That night was a difficult one for Caspian. Feeling stuck between his desire to make Iris happy and his need to be a good leader to the people of Aspiria, he tossed and turned for most of the hours before morning came, unable to calm down enough to get much sleep. What little rest he did get was plagued with stress-induced nightmares in which he was tormented by worst-case-scenarios of his imminent reign as king. Sometimes he was faced with situations he couldn’t handle, sometimes he was asked questions by dignitaries that he couldn’t answer and sometimes the Aspirian people turned against him and demanded that he step down from the throne. Once, he even dreamed briefly that the rebellion stormed the palace to kill him.
By the time a knock sounded on his door, followed by a masculine voice begging entrance, he was groggy and a little disoriented. He opened his eyes and mumbled a half-swallowed ‘come in’ to the visitor at his door before he dragged his duvet over his head to try to get more rest. Unfortunately, the visitor wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
“Your Highness,” one of the male servants bowed in the doorway before tentatively making his way further into the prince’s room. Along with his soft footfalls, Caspian could hear the shuffling of a few more pairs of feet. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but you should get up soon… Your coronation is in three hours, and we were sent here to help you prepare for it.”
“How early do I need to start?” Cas grumbled into his pillow. Three hours seemed like a long time, and he preferred to spend it catching up on the sleep he was sorely lacking. He wondered idly to himself why his bed was always the most warm and comfortable when someone wanted him to climb out of it.
The servant hesitated for half a second before he answered, “Right away if possible, my lord.”
‘My lord.’ That was a new one. Cas reluctantly pulled his covers down from his hairline to the bridge of his nose, so he could see the servants bustling around his room. The palace staff had always called his father by titles like that, but they’d never referred to him as anything other than ‘my prince’ or ‘your highness.’ It felt strange to be called by something that he’d only heard used in reference to Atlas, but he supposed he was going to have to start getting used to the change. After all, he was going to be king in three hours.
“Alright, I’ll get up, but only if one of you brings me a big mug of coffee,” he compromised, peeling himself off his mattress to sit upright and rub his eyes. Even that amount of effort was borderline exhausting, and he marveled that anyone thought he was going to make it to the end of the day without passing out. He felt like he was being weighed down by bags of sand. “Make it an espresso, please,” he added as an afterthought. “I didn’t get much sleep, so if you want me to be ready in time, I’m gonna need an energy boost.”
“Right away, your highness,” the same servant bowed and flagged down one of the maids to retrieve the coffee their future king requested. “Whenever you’re ready, we can begin.”
Cas nodded, bringing one hand up to his mouth to smother a yawn. It was going to be a long and stressful day, and he wasn’t sure what was going to happen on the other side of it. He just hoped he would be ready when the time came for him to step up and accept the crown that had once adorned his father’s head because at that moment, he still felt like an unprepared kid. I guess I’ll find out soon enough, he though with an uneasy exhale, tossing aside his sheets and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
By the time a knock sounded on his door, followed by a masculine voice begging entrance, he was groggy and a little disoriented. He opened his eyes and mumbled a half-swallowed ‘come in’ to the visitor at his door before he dragged his duvet over his head to try to get more rest. Unfortunately, the visitor wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
“Your Highness,” one of the male servants bowed in the doorway before tentatively making his way further into the prince’s room. Along with his soft footfalls, Caspian could hear the shuffling of a few more pairs of feet. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but you should get up soon… Your coronation is in three hours, and we were sent here to help you prepare for it.”
“How early do I need to start?” Cas grumbled into his pillow. Three hours seemed like a long time, and he preferred to spend it catching up on the sleep he was sorely lacking. He wondered idly to himself why his bed was always the most warm and comfortable when someone wanted him to climb out of it.
The servant hesitated for half a second before he answered, “Right away if possible, my lord.”
‘My lord.’ That was a new one. Cas reluctantly pulled his covers down from his hairline to the bridge of his nose, so he could see the servants bustling around his room. The palace staff had always called his father by titles like that, but they’d never referred to him as anything other than ‘my prince’ or ‘your highness.’ It felt strange to be called by something that he’d only heard used in reference to Atlas, but he supposed he was going to have to start getting used to the change. After all, he was going to be king in three hours.
“Alright, I’ll get up, but only if one of you brings me a big mug of coffee,” he compromised, peeling himself off his mattress to sit upright and rub his eyes. Even that amount of effort was borderline exhausting, and he marveled that anyone thought he was going to make it to the end of the day without passing out. He felt like he was being weighed down by bags of sand. “Make it an espresso, please,” he added as an afterthought. “I didn’t get much sleep, so if you want me to be ready in time, I’m gonna need an energy boost.”
“Right away, your highness,” the same servant bowed and flagged down one of the maids to retrieve the coffee their future king requested. “Whenever you’re ready, we can begin.”
Cas nodded, bringing one hand up to his mouth to smother a yawn. It was going to be a long and stressful day, and he wasn’t sure what was going to happen on the other side of it. He just hoped he would be ready when the time came for him to step up and accept the crown that had once adorned his father’s head because at that moment, he still felt like an unprepared kid. I guess I’ll find out soon enough, he though with an uneasy exhale, tossing aside his sheets and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.