Dawn
Fingers of light reached out into the dark gloomy night, paving the way for the brand new day. The sun was taking a peek from the east behind the mountains. Dawn sat on her bed watching from the tall glass windows as the sky changed its hue while sipping hot tea that one of the servants served for her.
She ought to be tired from the long journey to the capital, but the woman had a restless night. It was not because her accommodations were not comfortable. On the contrary, Dawn had never before slept in a more luxurious room, not even when her father was still a high-ranking official. She was given a spacious room with a view of the city. The queen sized canopy bed resting atop a raised platform in the middle of the room was her favorite, second only was the soft carpet beneath the bed, which made her toes feel warm. She wiggled them and sighed.
Did Prince Jan mean what he said? Would he really pull some strings to get her to join the hunting party? There was no assurance that a man like him would be true to his word, and yet Dawn found herself expecting. She had her breakfast in her room early, dressed herself in a simple riding dress, and braided her hair to keep it out of her eyes. With all of these out of the way, she sat on her bed as the golden light of the sun crept from the mountain tops to the capital.
It wasn’t long before somebody knocked on her door. Expecting it to be a servant, she softly encouraged the person to come in.
A young man dressed as a servant stood at her door. “My lady,” he said, his voice lacked the confidence of those of a highborn boy. “His highness, Prince Jan Leon, requests for your presence in his private apartments,” the servant said.
Dawn raised a brow. She placed down the cup she was holding and sat on one of the upholstered chairs in the room to lace up her boots. “Did his highness tell you what he may need from me?”
The servant caught his breath. He was afraid of the prince, thoughts of death and the undead floated in his mind and reached his face. Dawn was in his head though, gently teasing out information that she may be able to use. Unfortunately, there was none. This man was not close to either the princes. What she was certain, though, was that he was afraid of Jan Leon and would not hesitate to resort to force if she declined his polite invitation. He did not want to offend or disappoint his prince.
“Alright, then,” Dawn said under her breath as she straightened up and walked to the door. The young man failed to give her an answer so she continued, “Lead me to your prince.”
“It will be my pleasure,” he answered, relief flooding his head.
Jan’s apartment was as she remembered it – tidy despite the number of trinkets and tools. The servant led her into the workshop and made her sit on a sofa while he called Jan Leon. Dawn, on the other hand, learned that the servant’s name was Jude and that he was not often called by the prince to help him in any way. The prince was capable of taking care of himself, unlike his brother who required assistance.
“Your highness,” he said as Jan strode into the room.
Dawn got to her feet and curtsied low. “Is there something that I can help you with today, your highness?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.
“I have also brought a change of clothes as you have required,” added the servant presenting the contents of the bag he carried. Dawn saw a servant’s tunic and vest and a pair of trousers. It was a smaller size than what Jude was wearing. Perhaps it belonged to a boy.
Sighart
Sighart was up before the sun. He had to finish reading reports that he missed the day before, because he expected to have very little time to read when he got back from the trip. These trips usually lasted until the afternoon, depending on the weather. Lunch would be served in a temporary camp that the servants had probably already set up in the woods. He always looked forward to the hunting season, but the crown prince was a bit less excited by the prospect of wasting time killing dangerous animals. There was real work to be done and very little precious time to have everything completed. For instance, the occurrence of crime had increased in the last few days. He attributed it to the temporary increase in the population in the city in anticipation of the coming festivities.
Being the heir was more than the popularity and the power. A huge amount of responsibility rested on his shoulder. He may not be the one making the decisions yet, but his opinion was expected and often criticized by the emperor. None that he did seemed sufficient for the old man. Sig was always lacking, always not the heir his father had always dreamed of. He wondered if his father secretly wished that the heir was Jan Leon instead of Sighart. Jan was a powerful mage, feared by many because of his exploits in Galorien.
A knock at the door of his study pulled him off of his musings. The prince raised his blonde head and called for the person to come in. “Your horse has already been prepared, sire,” said the servant.
“Thank you, Davion.” Sig placed the papers he was reading down on the table beside a plate of untouched breakfast. He got to his feet and prepared to leave the room. That morning, he chose to wear light clothing and leather armor over his chest, a pair of dark colored trousers tucked inside his boots. He was putting on leather gauntlets as he continued speaking to Davion. “Please do not touch anything on this table, except for my breakfast. Make sure to relay that to the others.”
The servant acknowledged the command, bowed and watched his prince walk out of the room in long strides. One hand was in the pocket of his pants. Inside was the bead that Risey gave Sig. He was toying with it the whole morning, thinking over his plan for the night.
He arrived at the courtyard before most of the lords and his father. Sighart always had to arrive before his father, because tardiness was another trait that the old man just couldn’t tolerate.
“Good morning, your highness,” greeted the stable boy guiding Sig’s horse. It was a battle horse bred for speed and stamina, given to him as a gift by the Emperor. He stroked its neck when the boy led the horse to a stop before the prince.
“Thank you,” Sig said. He scanned the area for his brother, worried that their father might notice that his second son was missing. It was still early, but the Emperor had a habit of arriving before the agreed time. He turned to the servant, whose name he cannot really remember. “Has Jan arrived yet?”
The servant shook his head. “I have not seen Prince Jan this morning, sire.”
He nodded thoughtfully. Did Jan drunk a lot the night before? Sig couldn’t quite recall his brother getting drunk on the wine served in the castle. It was among his least favorite wines in the kingdom. “Can you please see to it that my brother is already awake?”
“Certainly, sire.” The servant bowed low then turned on his heels towards the direction of Jan’s apartment.
