Chapter Text
It was already mid day when the Dersite procession finally reached the gates of the Citadel of Kingswood, heart of the Kingdom of Prospit. The sun hung above your head, bright and harsh, as it had ever since you had exited the forest this morning, to cover the last stretch of your journey through the King’s golden fields.
The last few days had been long and exhausting. For five days now, you had traveled from sunrise to sundown to catch up with delays. First, it had been an ox that died. Then, several consecutive days of rain—unusual, this time of year. Then, a blocked segment of the road had forced you to backtrack and take a long detour.
The journey, in optimal conditions, took twenty days. You had been travelling for a month. It was not unusual for a procession like this to lose a few days due to unforeseen circumstances, but this had been an especially unfortunate journey.
You were sweaty and sunburnt, and could barely feel your legs anymore, due to the long riding hours. Eventually, you chose to walk part of the day, for it both spared you and Obama, your trusty stallion. Even if Brother had given you a disdainful glare, as he himself much preferred being mounted on his high horse at every opportunity. That said, he did not order you to ride at all times, only through the populated areas, where you needed to embody the glory of Derse for all to see.
You understood why it was so important to make it in time. The Twelve days of the Council could simply not proceed without the prince, and you barely made it in time. Unfortunately, if the journey had been exhausting for you, you could hardly imagine what it had been like for your retinue, who, on top of walking the entire time, also had to set up and dismount camp in the dark. Sunrise to sunset was no short ride either, this time of year, with the summer solstice only a few days away.
The important part was that, at the very least, you did make it.
The bells of Kingswood rang upon your arrival. A handful of impressed peasants had already stopped to greet you along the way, but within the city, passersby gathered into a crowd, cheering and whistling. Despite your fatigue, you tried your best to wave politely. The main streets of the citadel were too wide to cast shade effectively, and you found yourself consistently blinded by glares coming from all directions, including your own forehead where laid a silver circlet. With one hand guiding Obama, your other had to alternate between waving to the crowd and shielding your eyes. Your mind was mostly occupied with the thought of your painful buttocks, which unfortunately lacked much of a natural cushion.
Somehow, you made it through the crown and into the inner bailey of the Castle, where you eagerly dismounted your steed. Just as you set foot on the ground, you found yourself assaulted by a swift flurry of dark hair who very nearly knocked you down.
“Dave!” the attacked exclaimed. “I thought you wouldn’t make it!”
The little Prospitian princess buried her face in your midriff. You patted her head. She was growing fast, you thought. Last year, her face was exactly at the level of your crotch, which was a little awkward at times. With her enthusiasm, it was hard to hold back a smile, no matter how tired you might have been.
“Of course, we made it,” you answered her. “What did you think? That we would just give up and turn around? Not on my watch.”
She mumbled something incomprehensible into the folds of your velvet tabard. Meanwhile, Brother had finally deigned to dismount his steed and lower himself to the task of greeting a King. The two monarchs shook forearms and kissed cheeks.
“So, what held you back so long?” the King asked him.
“An Unfortunate detour, essentially,” Brother answered, stoic as ever. “You should examine your roads more attentively; the eastern pass is completely obstructed by a landslide.”
King Jake tilted his head, embarrassed.
“Oh, yes, that!” he said. “I’ve been meaning to send workers there, although, with the Council coming up, it was not worth sending them up there just yet. Although, I did send you a letter on that subject, if I remember correctly.”
“Well, it did not reach me on time.” Brother said without missing a beat. “Which should not come as a surprise, given that the eastern pass is obstructed.”
The king shrugged, hands behind his back like a guilty child.
“Oh well, I cannot think of everything. The important thing is that you are here, safe, sound, and just in time! Isn’t it?” he said, regaining enough enthusiasm to give Brother a pat on the shoulder.
John, the King’s heir, interjected with his usual gusto: “This year was really a close call, though! Some of the roasts are already done being cooked!”
“Absolutely not,” the Queen exclaimed, offended. “I would never forgive myself if I were to serve anything but fresh roast to my guests.”
You noticed that John, who, if your math was correct, had just turned thirteen, was now taller than his mother, and roughly the same size as Rose, his fiancée and your twin sister.
Speaking of Rose, she looked impeccable with her cloth of gold gown worn over her dark purple kirtle, even though the distinctly Dersite style of her garments made her stand out. Despite having lived roughly half her life in the Citadel of Kingswood, she had never abandoned parts of her original identity. If anything, her stunning and intimidating beauty seemed to have influenced prospitean fashions more than the other way round. Eighteen, going on nineteen, she was already carrying herself like a queen, despite not even being married yet, and much less sitting on the throne. Despite the wedding inching closer and closer, with King Jake’s Iron health, becoming queen could easily take a while.
“It’s good to see you, Dave,” she smiled. “And Brother,” she added, bowing to the ruler of Derse with poorly disguised contempt.
The prince was not, in fact, your brother, but rather your father. However, being a member of the Divine council, he had acquired a power to “embrother” any living creature, making it his familiar. Traditionally, only animals, political prisoners and occasionally loyal servants were embrothered, but the prince was not one to embrace tradition, and personally found it appropriate to bound his own children to him. He did, however, insist that they call him brother, as was typical of most familiars. Those who could speak that is.
Rose had always hated him for this. Even though she had consented to it, it had been a cruel manipulation of a nine year old. After your mother had left, he had promised to train the both of you in the art of politics. He had effectively trained you, although it had often been a brutal exercise. Rose, on the other hand, only got stripped of her magical powers and sent off to Kingswood.
Every interaction which they had had since then was understandably pregnant with bitterness and resentment.
This time, however, Brother decided to ignore her attitude. Though he did his best to conceal it, you imagined that he was just as tired as the rest of your delegation.
“Won’t you join us upstairs, while your chamber is being readied?” The Queen offered. “I am sure you could use some refreshing drinks after such a long journey.”
“We would be honored,” Brother answered without gratitude.
The party headed indoors.
Kingwoods’ castle’s solar was a spacious and welcoming room, painted in bright colors and equipped with large arched windows, that gave a lovely view of the bailey and inundated the place with light. During the last few years, renovations had given the old fortress a more modern appearance, at the cost of certain tactical advantages. Once again, a feature of Dersite influences.
You were offered sweet wine and fresh fruits. While the Monarchs were busy finishing their travel preparations, you played card games with Rose, John, and Jade. It was good to relax for a while, even though you would have readily crashed asleep already. Before long, however, the sun began to lower in the sky, signaling that the festivities were about to begin.
The Twelve days of the council were the most important holiday of the realm. It was the end of the year, the moment when the monarchs of Derse and Prospit would journey into the veil to meet with the Grand Lord Overseer, the one who knows all, and who would give them instructions on how to rule the people.
For everyone else, however, the twelve days were a fanfare of excess, sloth, and debauchery. When the cat’s away…
For you, the twelve days mostly meant a chance to spend time with John, Jade and your sister, and a well-deserved respite from Brother’s despotism, and the political intrigue of Derse.
The first night of the festivities, was a banquet held in honor of the Monarchs of the Council, who only left on the second day, to the tune of a great parade filled with dancers, jugglers, and musicians. It was alright, but after the trip you had, just the thought of it exhausted you.
You sat down in the great Hall, your thoughts already filled with the tantalizing image of the nice, cozy bed of fur and feathers that was waiting for you in the old keep.
“Correct me if I am wrong, but I am under the impression you would rather be anywhere but here,” Rose snarked at your yawning face.
“I will not confirm nor deny anything,” you answered, leaning on the board in front of you, “but only because I know you already know the answer to that.”
Even though she could not practice magic, your sister still explored her abilities through some light clairvoyance, which was technically allowed since she did not need to cast any spell. As a result, her perceptivity was always impeccable.
“My faith in my own intuition is justifiably unequivocal,” Rose mused. “I have never been wrong in my entire life.”
“I know this, and I love you,” you answered, closing your eyes for a brief moment of respite.
This moment was short lived, as Brother’s voice compelled you.
“Dave, I will not let you fall asleep at the table on a day like this. Now, get up and socialize with the guests before the feast begins. And don’t put your elbows on the table again.”
Your reaction was immediate. You had no choice but to obey.
Although your legs were sore, you jolted from your chair and, half heartedly, trotted through the hall in order to find some conversational partners. Guests of various degrees of prestige were scattered throughout the room, In the informal manner typical of Prospitian events. The Chamberlain stood by the door, curtly greeting newly arriving nobles, encouraging them to take a moment to give homage to their monarchs. At one end of the room, the King and Queen sat upon their sculpted chairs, with Bec, their dog and familiar, resting at their feet while people lined up to bow before them, and exchange a few pleasantries. Your Brother stood besides them, occasionally whispering into the King’s ear. Meanwhile, young pages wandered through a sea of legs, carefully balancing platters and offering refreshments to the guests. Many of them were regional lords with their families, who camped out in the outer bailey for a few days every year during the festivities. Others were Prominent men of Kingswood; the Mayor, the Sheriff, prestigious Guild masters and religious figureheads.
Once they had bowed for the King, they were left to mingle and discuss. For many, this was a prime opportunity to network for their political interests, although these stakes were usually too local to involve you in any way. Every once in a while, a Lord or Lady intercepted you, usually to present to you their daughter in the ambitious hope that she might catch your eye. You often humored them, playing up your fine charisma to entertain the young ladies—who could be anywhere from twelve to their early twenties—knowing full well that in the end, the one who would get your hand in marriage would be the one Brother chose for you.
Of all the duties and political lessons that you were taught, charismatic stoicism was certainly among the most nuanced. To be an efficient ruler, it was imperative that at all times, you maintained composure and dissimulated your true intentions, while also making yourself likeable and approachable, so that people might reveal themselves to you. Usually, that was second nature for you, but your weariness made it difficult for you to stay alert and cheerful.
You ambled through the hall, trying to overhear a conversation that might be relevant to you in some way. Eventually, you passed near a group of youths, all congregated around John.
“hahaha, yeah, I guess,” the latter was saying as you joined the edge of the group. “I mean, I think she will be a good queen, right?. She feels sort of like a big sister to me.”
“Talking about Rose?” You asked.
A few gazes turned towards you, and the circle immediately parted to let you in.
“Oh, hey Dave!” John said. “Yeah, Sort of,” he shrugged, answering your question. “I just remembered how we are truly getting married next year, since I am turning fourteen. I have a little bit of trouble processing that information, but it should be fine, right? I mean she’s very pretty, and she’s intelligent, and she’s usually nice to me.”
“She’s so pretty!” one of the young girls from the circle added. “When I grow up, I want to look like her.”
“I think she looks a bit scary,” one boy added. “She’s like a witch.”
“Well, she definitely has her way of doing things,” John declared, “but there is no reason you should be scared of her! She’s not going to eat you. And I can prove it.”
He glanced towards Rose, who was sipping on a fancy glass of dark liquid. Everyone followed his stare.
“I see that the two of you are still caught in a prank war,” you commented.
“Yes, and I am winning,” John answered with a shit-eating grin.
“Maybe not for long,” you mused, enigmatic. “She told me earlier that she had something in the works that will really knot your garters tight.”
“Did she?” John asked.
She had not told you about a single thing on the subject, but it was always fun to get John worked up.
“Yes,” you answered. “Although she did not give me any details. You know I would have told you otherwise.”
“Well, it seems that I have no choice but to make a move of my own then,” John smiled. “I am going to need a handful of salt,” he declared, before heading for the kitchen.
The rest of the group had watched the exchange with awe and amusement.
“So,” you shrugged, as all the kids turned towards you expectantly. “What are you rascals planning in the next few days?”
“I’m going to eat so much cake that I explode!” one of the girls shouted.
“Hell yeah,” you nodded.
“I am going to dress as a wolf for Night Hallows! I made a mask with big scary teeth,” another very young one added.
“Oh shit. Are you going to scare people with that?”
“Yes! And I am going to curse everyone to get all of the presents the next morning!”
“Now, that’s just evil,” you said, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow.
John came back from the kitchen, with his left fist clenched tight.
“Dave, can you help me? I think it’ll be less suspicious if you’re with me,” he said. “Just make sure Rose isn’t paying attention to her wine.”
“Oh, I see so I am officially an accomplice now,” you said. “I knew I would become involved in your bullshit someday. Oh well. So be it. What are we waiting for?” you said, walking towards Rose’s table.
“Hello, sister. This is a lovely evening, is it not?”
“What do you want, Dave?” she said, not a complete idiot.
“Oh, you just know, just…socializing. You know.”
“Oh, I see. Very well if you must,” Rose answered.
Her expression darkened as she added, “I cannot believe that Brother uses branding in such petty ways. He treats us less like his children, and more like his slaves. If I could get rid of mine by just tearing off my skin, I think I would.”
Rose’s mark was located around her neck, while yours clasped your wrists like handcuffs. Because Rose had spent so much time away from Dirk, there were only a few things that her familiar mark prevented her from doing. Practicing magic, above all. Sometimes, Brother made her do some petty penitence in retaliation against her defiance, but otherwise tended to leave her alone. You, on the other hand, were a lot more accustomed to being ordered around and made to do whatever the prince thought that you should do.
“Well, I can’t say I would go that far,” you shrugged, as John approached the both of you.
Rose was still grasping at her cup of wine tightly.
“Hi!” he greeted cheerfully. “What are you two talking about?”
“Nothing” you and Rose answered at once.
“Wow, that really sounds fascinating,” John answered sarcastically. “I really wouldn’t want to bore you with all my stupid topics, then.”
“What kind of topics?” You asked.
“Oh, you know, plants. Animals. People. Games. By the way, Dave, I really like your new shoes,” he said, staring at your feet.
“Oh, you have new shoes. I did not notice,” Rose said, posing her glass to lean over the board and try to get a glimpse of your feet. John obviously took his chance and dropped his palm full of salt into her wine.
“No, this is an old pair. I am afraid you just fell for a good old John prank,” you told her, once the deed was done.
She scoffed and leaned back.
“John, I am sorry to say, but although I fell for it, this was weak.”
She took a smug sip of her wine, which immediately spat out. John laughed loudly, and you couldn’t help but quirk a little smile as well.