Prince Richard’s orders had seen Narius running all over the kingdom, and it was with great exhaustion that he finally returned to the castle, his duties done. He was given a room in the eastern wing that Richard had prepared for him, and Narius quickly collapsed onto a most lavish bed.
As a commoner, such sumptuous furniture was usually beyond Narius, and he quickly felt his consciousness fading into the land of dreams. But as he began to doze, he heard excited shouts, stirring him from sleep.
The voices belonged to the kingdom’s civil servants, who were busy confirming and tallying all the tax money that was coming in from throughout the kingdom. Richard’s reforms had proven extremely successful, and there was a great deal for the civil servants to work through. It was more than they had ever known in previous years, in fact.
The war is over, change is sweeping the lands, and the economy is on the up.
Narius rolled over and closed his eyes, the excited voices just another part of life in the castle. Some were rushed, others were shouting at subordinates to hurry up, but all rang clearly of joy. The civil servants were nothing if not buoyed by the work they were doing.
Taxes had risen, but it was not this that excited the civil servants. Rather, it was the fact that they did not have to worry about their budgets any longer, which meant they could funnel money into areas that, at least until now, did not get the attention or help they needed. The civil servants knew that with the money they now had at their disposal, they could improve much across the entire nation.
This was what civil servants longed to do, but they had been denied it throughout the entirety of the war. It was no wonder they were happy, and no wonder that their excitement echoed through the halls. Narius felt himself drifting once more into sleep, comfortable among such excitement.
“Narius! There’s a job for you!”
The voice that called out belonged to Sild, the elderly knight always by the prince’s side. Narius lifted himself up, shook his head, and wiped at his eyes. But even then, when he got up and left his room, he felt traces of the slumber he so craved trying futilely to drag him back to bed.
✦ ✦ ✦
The prince’s reforms were reshaping the country, and the excitement could be felt down every hall and in every room. Meanwhile, the king was now little more than a king in name and name alone.
Until now it had been domestic governance where the king had done his best work, but it had been conservative and based on past principles. He had achieved nothing so revolutionary as Prince Richard, and while one could still say it was the king who had seen Sanserife to where it now was, the gap between father and son was obvious for all to see.
The king tried to explain that the prince’s reforms only worked because the nation was in a time of peace, and that it never could have succeeded during the war, but his words fell on deaf ears. The king had succeeded in domestic governance but little else, and many called upon him to name his heir and retire. So many, in fact, that the voices had become deafening.
How can I name an heir now, with my children split into factions, each of them wielding their own power? Richard and his people may be the right choice, but none of the others will accept the decision. Any declaration of an official heir will rock the entire nation and might even break it apart. The whole reason there are factions in the first place is because of Richard’s own errors during the war... Had such errors never come to pass, we would not be where we are now.
The king slumped into the chair by his bed and put a hand to the lavish book by his side. He found himself wondering what his son might do with him. Their relationship as father and son had long since deteriorated—an unfortunate but seemingly inevitable schism. The king felt certain that Prince Richard would not show him any mercy.
Which left what? A merciless killing? Exile and confinement to distant lands? Regardless, the king did not want to accept any such end, and his face scrunched with discomfort at the very thought. He reached under his pillow and brought out a slip of fabric, feeling the texture between his fingers.
It was baar wool fabric, and a specialty of the western frontier. It was soft to the touch, and its gentle texture brought healing to the king’s battered heart. He wondered just what sort of creature this fabric came from. What did it eat? What life did it lead?
The king had heard much from the western frontier. It was all unfathomable to him. The salt plain, the border stations—each report left the king’s imagination racing as he pictured Baarbadal and what it might look like.
Ah, to relinquish the throne and live out the rest of my days in the peace and quiet of a far-off land.
The king’s position would never allow it, of course, but even then the idea had a charm that he simply could not let go of. He knew that logically he could never make that decision, and yet more and more his heart yearned for that distant dream.
So deep was his desire that money and even a boat had been prepared for that eventuality. His loyal retainers—dwindled to just a handful now—had felt the king’s intent and made preparations on his behalf, though he had never uttered a word about it to any of them. All that was left now was for the king to make the decision and then be off.
With winter on its way in, it was no time to be making voyages by sea. And yet, the king had heard that the southern lands were warm even during the winter and that the winds blew steady over the colder seasons.
Perhaps winter was, in fact, not a bad time to leave at all. And perhaps it would even be easier to escape, as nobody would expect the king to leave during winter. Then again, even leaving in spring or summer would no doubt take people by surprise.
The king told himself he was just indulging in fantasies, but all the while his heart inched closer to something like resolve. He knew that he would have to make a decision in the not so distant future.
That moment was creeping up on him, faster and faster. And so, while he still had moments to spare, he let his mind wander through the grassy plains he saw in his imagination.