As the crown prince’s fellow student, Austin paid regular visits to the royal palace. Today was no exception; he had come with his chamberlain. He sat through Mrs. Finch’s class, then accepted an invitation to Riley’s chambers. The boys relaxed over tea prepared by one of the maids, making use of a magical device that encased the entire room in a soundproof barrier.
“You’re almost at the end of your education as crown prince, right?” Austin asked, glancing out at the courtyard.
“Seems like it,” Riley answered, speaking as though it didn’t concern him.
Austin furrowed his brow, watching his friend out of the corner of his eye. “Is His Majesty not doing well?” he asked in a hushed voice, unable to think of another reason for the prince’s dejection.
Riley gave a slight nod. “Remember what you told me the other day? My father is hardly ever conscious at this point. During one of his brief moments of wakefulness, I sought his permission to discuss the matter with Mr. Bergson. I’ve asked the minister to investigate, but disease might be the only conceivable explanation.”
If, as Austin suspected, the king’s poor health was the result of a hex, they would need the help of a mage to remove it. But not just any mage. If the person attempting the dispelling lacked adequate training and knowledge, the hex would not only remain but could also have a harmful impact on everyone nearby. That was why Riley had sought the help of Nicholas Bergson, the Minister of Magic. He seemed the best candidate for the job, but that did little to ease the crown prince’s worries.
“As the next king,” Riley continued, “I’m expected to embody confidence no matter what—just as my grandfather did. I hate how terribly immature I feel.”
Austin bit his lip, lost for a response. Having occasionally mingled with commoners, he had friends and acquaintances among the lesser-ranked boys and girls his age. Compared to them, Riley seemed too mature, burdened with responsibility from the day he was born.
“State affairs have been stagnating ever since His Majesty became bedridden,” Riley explained. “Sure, the burden falls on the premier—but when the premier accumulates too much power, some nobles start to complain.”
The premier in question was Liliana’s father, Duke Clarke. He had already been one of the kingdom’s three most prominent dukes, but now he also served as the king’s representative, and many nobles took issue with the way he exercised his authority. Had they known about the countless notable policies he had enacted—or his political skill in general—since rising to prominence, they might not have complained; yet many voiced their disagreement nonetheless.
“I should do something, but I can’t risk adding to His Majesty’s burden,” Riley said. “He already has his condition to deal with.”
As much as it frustrated him, Riley was at an impasse, with no solution in sight. He may have received a crown prince’s education from a young age, but there was only so much he could do as a minor.
Though well aware of the shame gnawing at his friend, Austin could not pretend to understand how Riley felt. Their positions were already far enough apart. Still, the least he could do was stay by the prince’s side.
“You have a point,” Austin conceded with a nod. “No wonder you feel so low.”
“Indeed... It is what it is.”
Austin scratched his cheek. Being too considerate risked making him seem cold, but he wasn’t skilled enough to always maintain appearances. “Father said you’re one of the most talented crown princes this kingdom has ever seen—if not the most talented.”
“Really?” Riley asked, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Why would I lie?” Austin replied, forcing a sour look to hide his embarrassment. “I agree with that assessment, anyway.”
Riley’s cheeks flushed. He couldn’t hide his joy, no matter how hard he tried. Austin wanted to keep his friend in high spirits but lowered his voice to a whisper.
“Did you meet with Lady Liliana again today?”
“Yeah. She is the top candidate for my fiancée. Our meetings have felt a lot more frequent since she lost her voice.”
“Huh.” Austin paused, his expression serious. “And she’s still mute?”
“Indeed. Did you hear it from Mrs. Finch?” Liliana’s missing voice wasn’t public knowledge; Austin could only have learned about it from Riley or their teacher.
“You summoned her this time, didn’t you?” Austin asked, a glum look on his face as he dodged the question. “Why, if you know her voice hasn’t recovered yet?”
“I didn’t have much of a choice. It’s what His Majesty wants—to better guarantee her protection, he said. Not to mention...”
The remark about Liliana’s safety struck Austin as unusual, but he chose not to question it. “‘Not to mention’?” he repeated, encouraging his friend to continue.
“I feel there’s still much she can teach me.”
Austin groaned. He had known Riley long enough to tell that he was serious. The prince must have taken such a keen interest in Liliana because of the note she had written—the one echoing the teachings of Riley’s beloved grandfather. Even as Austin fought to suppress a sigh, his thoughts were plain to see; there were so many issues he wanted to raise that he didn’t know where to begin.
Riley only smiled awkwardly, showing no intention of backing down. “To be honest, I don’t understand His Majesty’s thinking either. If you assume I take him at face value, I can assure you I don’t—I just lack the power to question him. Not that I would abandon Liliana now that she’s lost her voice.”
There was an unmistakable fire in the prince’s eyes. He must have been torn between wanting to obey the king, who wasn’t the most politically astute, and searching for the actual best solution.