An old man, his face lined and wrinkled, leaning on a cane and grinning toothlessly, slowly waving a gnarled hand ….
Four giggling girls crowding in a doorway, all pushing and peering around each other, craning their necks for a glimpse of the prince ….
A young mother, clutching a wailing baby and gazing anxiously into the faces of the soldiers behind him ….
A tall, gray-haired man, likely a retired soldier, standing at attention and saluting as Jaymin and the troops passed ….
A husband and wife, holding hands and each waving their free hand, beaming and shouting something he couldn’t hear ….
A boy of about his own age, twisting a brown hat in his hands, looking awe-struck and a little envious as he watched Jaymin ride by ….
A tired-looking, middle-aged woman with a weary smile, holding a basket under one arm and waving a blue scarf ….
Where always before Jaymin had seen just a blur of faces and waving hands, now he saw individuals, each with a life full of hopes and joys and struggles, each looking to him to guide their kingdom along paths of peace and prosperity and freedom.
The journey back through Almar seemed to take forever as he turned from side to side in his saddle, waving and smiling and waving some more. His arms, still sore from the battle two days ago, felt almost as tired as they had after the fighting. But the excitement of the crowd was contagious, and Jaymin found that he didn’t mind. He tried to make eye contact with as many people as possible, and even called an occasional greeting to some who seemed especially thrilled to see him.
At last the road rounded a corner between buildings, and Jaymin drank in the welcome sight of his palace, rising high above the city. Its marble walls gleamed as white as the snow up on the hillsides, and its turrets and spires and battlements stretched gracefully into the sky. Bright blue and scarlet banners snapped welcomingly in the breeze. The sight of it brought a lump into Jaymin’s throat. At last he was returning home.
The next few days were so busy they seemed to pass in a blur. Countless details had to be taken care of before his coronation ceremony as Jaymin worked to repair the damage Regent Rampus had done to Alasia. True to his word, Korram saw to it that every last Malornian invader was sent back to Malorn, and the Alasian traitors were seized and locked in the dungeon to await trial. A few troublemakers, however, could not be found – Dannel the double agent, for example, had completely disappeared; and no wonder, with the governments of two kingdoms eager to punish him for his treachery.
One of the most enjoyable tasks that claimed Jaymin’s attention after his return was that of rewarding the various people who had helped him. He sent messengers to deliver personal notes of thanks and explanation to Miss Arrin, Cella, the tailor, Lornsby – even the woman whose yard Jaymin and Erik had jumped into while fleeing from the soldiers in Drall. Jaymin didn’t want to forget anyone who deserved his gratitude.
With Erik’s help, he made a list of every student who had been in their class and ordered invitations to his coronation sent to all of them, along with arrangements for carriages to pick them up from school for this special field trip. It made him smile to think of the shock they would feel when they learned that the Prince of Alasia had been their classmate for the last few weeks. No doubt Tark would be especially thrilled at the chance to visit Almar and see the palace. If he had a chance, perhaps Jaymin would show him around and answer his questions – honestly this time.
For Hilltop School itself, Jaymin planned a large wagonload of books, maps, blank parchment, and other school supplies. Lornsby and his friends at the inn were each sent six gold pieces: double what they would have received for turning Jaymin over to the Malornians. He also ordered an ornamental but sturdy door to make up for Lornsby’s old one that the soldiers had broken. To the tailor he sent several bolts of fine fabric as well as a case of silk thread in dozens of colors. Then there was a brand new water pump on a sturdy platform to replace the old leaky, rusty one in Ana’s neighborhood.
As an afterthought, Jaymin added Ana’s name to the list of those to reward – after all, she had provided a roof over his head when he had needed one. He debated with Erik what kind of gift would be appropriate. There was no point in sending money, as she would only spend it on alcohol. After some deliberation, they decided to order two sturdy beds with extra blankets and pillows: one for her own use downstairs, and one for her attic, in case she decided to rent it out again.
Sir Edmend would not accept any reward for saving Jaymin’s life and for the role he had played in helping Alasia over the past weeks. He declared that he had always wanted a chance to do more for his kingdom than sit on a council, and his only regret was that he couldn’t have saved more lives. Erik, who also owed Sir Edmend his life, suggested that Jaymin have a public monument built in his honor outside the palace. Jaymin seized eagerly on this idea, and decided to have a second one placed in the town square in Drall as well.
Jaymin didn’t bother asking Erik what reward he would like. He knew his friend would only laugh and say he had just been doing his job. Jaymin couldn’t keep track of how many times Erik had saved his life, and he wished he could repay him or honor him somehow. But he knew all Erik wanted was to remain the silent shadow behind him, unnoticed by almost everyone, anonymously doing the job no one else saw. Calling attention to him would only make that more difficult.
To Jaymin’s sorrow, one of the people he most wanted to reward could not be found. The young guard who had made it possible for him to escape the palace on the fateful night of the Invasion had apparently not escaped himself. He must have sacrificed his life to save the prince, and though Jaymin wasn’t surprised when he heard the news, he mourned to hear that yet another life had been lost for his sake.
Jaymin spent long hours conferring with his father’s Council of Advisors around the heavy oak table in the Council Room, discussing issues related to running Alasia. The first day he met the Council in there he had headed automatically for his usual seat at the foot of the table, but Sir Edmend had pulled out the king’s chair for him with a smile. After a startled pause, in which all the Councilors stood waiting awkwardly by their accustomed seats, Jaymin had walked slowly around the table to his father’s place at its head. This would take a lot of getting used to, he knew, and sitting in his father’s chair only served to remind him that he still didn’t feel ready to take his place.
The Council members, of course, were supportive and eager to help Jaymin as he prepared to lead the kingdom. But the more plans and decisions they made during those days, the more Jaymin thought about the weighty ones he would still have to make once he was king. That date was fast approaching, and already the palace was alive with the excitement of preparation. Though Jaymin was not entirely immune to the excitement, the primary emotion with which he began to look forward to his coronation was dread.
The memorial service for his parents took place ten days after Jaymin returned to the palace. It was a somber occasion, held in an outdoor amphitheater near the outskirts of Almar. Jaymin stood on the stage beside his father’s and mother’s closest friends and advisors, telling himself over and over that he must be strong. He would grieve in private later, as he had done plenty of times already. For now, in public, he must stand still and strong, putting on a calm and serious face for the crowds who filled the amphitheater and watched to see how their next king would act. And so he listened quietly and seriously while the speakers listed King Jaymin III’s accomplishments and spoke of Queen Esarelle’s character. They told of the great things the two of them had done for Alasia; but what nobody mentioned, Jaymin thought with a lump in his throat, was what wonderful parents they had been. Mother’s encouragement and ready smile; how Father joked with his son when no one else was around. The way the two of them had seemed to fill the palace with their presence so that it now seemed strangely large and empty. And the way their son now wondered how he would ever be able to fill his father’s shoes. As the court musicians struck up a
melancholy funeral dirge at the end of the service, Jaymin stepped slowly off the stage with the others, two thoughts filling his mind: I’m never going to see my parents again, and, only seven more days until I’m king.
The morning of his coronation came long before Jaymin felt ready for it. He and Erik sat in the little nook beside the room they had shared for most of their lives, eating a quiet breakfast together by lamplight. The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but today being Coronation Day, the palace was already astir. Jaymin himself had been awake for hours, too excited and anxious to get much sleep. Erik, who was a light sleeper, had finally grown tired of listening to him toss and turn, and had summoned a servant to have breakfast sent up.
So the two of them sat curled up on a velvet-cushioned sofa in their slippers with thick woolen blankets wrapped around their shoulders to keep out the chill of the winter morning. A little fire snapped merrily in the fireplace against the opposite wall, and on the low table before them sat plates of bacon and scrambled eggs and a small loaf of freshly baked bread with a dish of butter. Steaming mugs of spiced tea stood beside a platter of fresh fruit, available even in the winter, thanks to the gardeners’ skills in the greenhouse. And a tall stack of oatcakes towered over a pitcher of the sweet syrup that Lutian, the head cook, was famous for. Erik dug in with relish, but Jaymin picked restlessly at his food, too nervous to eat much.
“It’s just what we used to dream of back at Ana’s house,” Erik pointed out enthusiastically over a bunch of grapes, his favorite food. “Remember?”
“How could I forget?” Jaymin murmured absently, smearing a lump of butter back and forth across a slice of bread. “Can you believe we were there less than three weeks ago?”
“It seems like a lifetime away now.”
“I know.” Jaymin set down his knife and poked idly at his eggs with a silver fork. “And in a way, it was. I went from being royalty to a commoner. I’ll probably always look back on it as a whole separate life.”
Erik considered this over a bite of bacon. When he didn’t reply right away, Jaymin glanced over at him. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that you have an advantage your father never had – nor any other Alasian king either, as far as I know.” Erik sipped his tea thoughtfully, cradling the hot cup in both hands. “You have a completely different perspective on your kingdom now. You’ve lived with the poor, and you’ve seen what life is like for them. Now you can rule over them better. No one will be able to say that you’re not in touch with the lives of everyday citizens.”
“That’s true, I suppose.” Jaymin prodded the eggs aside and nibbled halfheartedly at a corner of his bread.
Erik gave him an admonishing frown. “You ought to be eating more than that. You know the physician said the other day that you should get more meat back on your bones.”
“I know.” Jaymin set the bread down and brushed the crumbs off his fingers with a linen napkin. “I’m just not hungry right now. I have too much on my mind.”
“You’ll have the weight of a crown to add to it in a few more hours,” Erik pointed out, grinning.
Jaymin sighed, twirling his fork idly. “I know. That’s just it. I’m not sure I feel ready for that yet.”
“A little late to be having doubts now, don’t you think?”
Jaymin gave a distracted chuckle. “I’m not exactly having doubts. I just – oh, I don’t know.” He laid the fork down again and pushed his plate away. “I just don’t feel like a king yet.”
“Six pounds of gold on your head might help.”
“I suppose. But I’m not sure I feel ready to be all that Alasia needs me to be. I know I’ll have the Council of Advisors to help, but still ….”
Jaymin uncurled himself from the sofa and climbed restlessly to his feet. The large arched window beckoned, so he wandered over, the blanket still draped round his shoulders, and unfastened the shutters. Pale daylight streamed in as he pulled them open, lighting up the shadowy corners of the room and banishing the dimness. He settled down on the wide stone window seat, drawing his knees up to his chin and re-wrapping the blanket around himself. Outside, he could see servants shoveling fresh snow from the courtyard, piling it in wheelbarrows to be dumped in the moat. Beyond the castle’s outer walls, the city was beginning to wake up. The night’s storm had passed, and it looked as though it would be another clear day.
“Do you think your father was a perfect king from the very moment he was crowned?” Erik queried from the sofa.
Jaymin inclined his head in acknowledgement but didn’t reply. His heart still ached. It was his father he had been thinking of most. His father, whom he had loved and admired so deeply. His father, who had done so much for Alasia. Following in his footsteps would be terribly hard. There was still so much about ruling a kingdom that Jaymin wished he could learn from him, and from his mother too.
Jaymin rested his forehead against the cold Wistran glass and gazed out at the pale morning sky. Father, Mother, I wish you were here. I’m not ready for this.
But his parents were not here. Jaymin felt a momentary flicker of envy for Korram, who at the moment was lodged in the finest guest suite downstairs, doubtless looking forward to watching today’s ceremony. True, Korram had his problems too – for example, Regent Rampus had escaped while being brought back to Malorn for trial and was still on the loose. But Korram had more time – until he was eighteen – to prepare to be king, and he had a mother to help him. Jaymin didn’t have either. There were no laws about regents in Alasia as there were in Malorn, though perhaps there should have been. Ready or not, the crown was almost his, and what he didn’t already know, he would have to figure out as he went along.
“Some things can only be learned through experience,” Erik said softly.
Yes. That was true. He had certainly learned a lot from the experiences of the last few weeks; things he would never have learned under other circumstances. He supposed that not even his father, who had ascended the throne at the age of seventeen, had known everything about being a good king right from the beginning. And Korram wouldn’t know everything even at eighteen.
Some things can only be learned through experience.
And then, unexpectedly, it hit him.
I may not be all that a king should be yet, but that’s all right, Jaymin realized. What matters is what I choose to do, what I become, after I’m king.
His eyes widened as the epiphany sank in. In a single flash of understanding, his whole outlook had changed completely.
Outside, a brilliant sliver of light appeared above the horizon to the east. Jaymin squinted as the fiery edge of the rising sun slowly emerged between two of the rolling hills that surrounded the city. He was suddenly aware of shadows streaking the courtyard below, of a patch of ice that reflected the light with dazzling brilliance.
After I’m king. It’s what I do after I’m king that counts.
He recalled what Korram had said to him the morning after they had met: “it’s our responsibility to become the kind of kings who deserve their people’s praise.”
Erik’s words in Drall came to mind as well. “You aren’t the prince because of anything you did to deserve it,” he had said as they stood in the road that snowy afternoon. “But Jaymin, you will deserve it …. This is something that has to be earned after the fact. It’s your responsibility to become the kind of king who deserves to rule Alasia.”
Why hadn’t it sunk in before? He didn’t have to know everything beforehand. What a freeing thought! He didn’t have to feel completely prepared. He just had to focus on learning through experience and becoming the best king he could possibly be. The kind of king Alasia needed.
The sun, still half-hidden behind the hills, had grown too bright to look at. Its burning splendor was setting fire to the snow, sending rivers of molten light down the streets and across the rooftops of Almar.
Behind him, Jaymin heard Erik pushing the table aside and getting to his feet. “It’s going to be a busy d
ay, Jaymin. If you’ve finished breakfast, we should start getting ready.”
Outside, the golden globe of the sun had finally floated free of the hills. The blue sky seemed to beckon it with wide open arms as it rose majestically to meet the morning.
With a new confidence stirring in his soul, Jaymin turned and rose to his feet.
“I am ready,” he said.
I hope you enjoyed Prince of Alasia!
If you did, please would you click here to leave a review on Amazon? Even one or two sentences would be a big help. Thank you!
Copyright
Prince of Alasia
Copyright © 2011 by Annie Douglass Lima
All Rights Reserved
About the Author
Annie Douglass Lima spent most of her childhood in Kenya and later graduated from Biola University in Southern California. She and her husband Floyd currently live in Taiwan, where she teaches fifth grade at Morrison Academy. She has been writing poetry, short stories, and novels since her childhood, and to date has published ten books (one YA action and adventure novel, four fantasies, a puppet script, and four anthologies of her students’ poetry). Besides writing, her hobbies include reading (especially fantasy and science fiction), scrapbooking, and international travel.
Discover Other Titles by Annie Douglass Lima:
Prince of Alasia (Annals of Alasia Book 1) Page 23
