(Prince Darian - Narrator)
The game was simple: try to catch me. Pity that was too hard a task for most friends.
“Young sire, don’t run in the halls,” my minders yelled as I whizzed past them. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
Nonsense. At nearly fifteen, I was invincible, quick, cunning, fearless. They presumed I was careless, but hesitation also had its dangers. I might not have had the best control over my growing body in those days, but I would heal from any wound that running into the walls might give me. It was all worth it to win.
I frequented with a small group of boys my same age in school, but less noble folk made better company over their stuffy attitudes. Father hoped they’d rub off on me, though. Same for my cousin Bertram. I found playing with all of them somewhat boring, because any time the minders yelled for us to stop, they always did.
Cowards.
Forced to seek entertainment elsewhere, I found a raggedy girl in the courtyard behind the chapel. She talked about books that seemed too old for her, and I often caught her sneaking around the palace grounds, probably for scraps or clothes or…anything.
I liked her immediately.
We collected loose stones and played draughts instead of chasing. Her presence fed a different part of my mind, and I trusted her simply because she trusted no one else. It was easy to laugh with her and tease the other boys. She didn’t expect me to be anything special. Father admonished me openly for associating with her—an urchin, he said—which only made me want to see her more, especially because she never asked for anything from me. He misplaced a worry that she only wanted my attention so she might steal something precious and disappear. I knew better. She was harmless, just dirty, and a smudge of soot wasn’t a crime.
While I was mostly satisfied with the girl’s company, at the end of that summer, a soldier brought a new boy to the fortress. Penniless, orphaned, and barely older than me, no one knew where he came from. Father made him a servant, which felt somewhat cruel, yet I couldn’t object to any of Father’s actions. The boy had no real privilege, so he earned meals and a place to sleep.
His nature was meek and quiet, but fearless. He didn’t shake when Father gave orders, which was a skill even I hadn’t yet mastered. He attempted every task given to him without complaint and picked up skills quickly. For a common boy, he had annoyingly perfect posture. That bit bothered me the most. After all, he was alone. Why put on the performance of a straight-standing young gentleman if he had no one to impress? More than that—why did he have such an effortless way about him, while I had bruises on my hands from being thwapped daily by maid minders who corrected my stance?
For all that my schoolmates thought he was odd, I found him fascinating. I had to know more. So, I did what any young man might do when attempting to make a new friend, and I bothered him. He worked with the palace steeds and spent quiet breaks beside the animals, which made him easy to disturb.
“Psst,” I whispered, peeking my head around the barn door. The old man who normally cared for the horses had his back to me while raking a mess at the far end inside. The boy sat on the ground against the hay pile and barely paused his scribbling to look over the top of his journal.
I waved him closer. “Come on. Come here.”
He furrowed his brow and shook his head, then went back to writing.
I grumbled. Think you can ignore me, hmm? Never one to give up, I crept inside and made sure the old man paid me no mind. “What are you doing?”
The boy exhaled harshly, puffing like one of the horses to get me to go away.
The unspoken game was irresistible. I snatched his book and bolted from the barn.
“Hey!” He already had a deep voice when he yelled after me, which was something else that I didn’t yet have. “You give that back.” Predictably, he chased me around the corner, stretching his long legs and easily matching my stride.
I powered ahead and laughed, overjoyed that someone might give me a real challenge. It took ten minutes for him to run out of breath and stand alone in the courtyard with his hands on his knees to fill his lungs again. He stood tall and brushed the black curls and sweat from his brow, scoping the area for any other signs of me.
“Giving up already?” I stepped out from behind the rosebushes under my bedroom window and waved his book above my head.
He marched toward me with his eyes low.
“Ah, ah—” I pinched the corner of the journal and primed to throw it. “Agree to meet me again tomorrow.”
“For what?” he asked, wisely keeping his position steady.
“Something else to pass the time. I’m bored.”
His hesitance was familiar. He reeked of thinking too much.
“Tomorrow, here, this same time. That’s an order from the Prince of Rhodantha.” I tipped my head, then tossed his property back.
He scrambled to catch it and quickly stood straight again. I’d earned his full attention—even if it was through dishonest means—and he knew better than to disobey me when he answered directly to Father, King Jacob.
So, I had a new friend. I knew bothering him would work.
Our preferred game from that time forth was simple hide and seek, kept fresh by increasingly dangerous locations. We didn’t talk much, and we didn’t need to—it was more fun to guess what the other was thinking and learn one another’s expressions and tells. He was clever, suggesting I climb to my chamber via the lattice outside to avoid my minders. So long as I didn’t make it obvious that I had a new way to get in, they weren’t likely to check my room again after loudly searching it for me every morning. I enjoyed his company the most out of my few friends, even the girl, though she was a close second.
Our infrequent encounters bordered on routine after a few weeks. Well-matched as we were, I needed a new thrill. It was his turn to find me that afternoon; to test if he was truly fearless, I had to pretend I had no fear at all.
No challenge better than choosing a spot even more risky than usual. I knew just where to go.
“You swear it’s still in the fortress?” he asked with his face buried in his arm while leaning against the palace wall. “I can’t be late for my evening duties.”
“Relax. Either you win, and it’s over, or I win, and you’ll wish you guessed better. You can give up if you think it’s taking too long.”
“All right.” He sighed and counted my minute head start out loud.
I didn’t waste time. My nerves wouldn’t let me. The plan wasn’t perfect; if the old man was working, I’d have to change course. But the barn was empty except for the horses. It gave me a few moments to steady my breathing before taking the ladder to the loft above the animals.
Tools and blankets were piled against the wall at the top, and it was only a guess that there would be enough room to hide somewhere within the supplies. I shook with every step. Determination alone kept me going, and after the halfway point, fear of looking down did the same. Up, up, up, I went, and I finally sucked in a new breath after crawling onto the open, dusty space at the center. It was dizzying from the new viewpoint, but a swell of pride made me more comfortable.
All I had left to do was wait.
The horses below swished their tails against the stable walls in a soothing yet unpredictable pattern. I still worried about falling, yet they were nice to look down on. Powerful creatures, and some of them scared me, but I saw why the boy liked working in here. Animals were easier to please than people. They couldn’t judge a person’s status at first glance. We were all equal in their eyes. Wasn’t that admirable?
I didn’t covered my tracks very well, since the boy cracked open the barn doors and slipped in no more than ten minutes after I did. There wasn’t much good light inside, though it didn’t seem to matter. He took a few steps, clearly matching my footprints, and gripped the ladder strongly with both hands.
I backed up slowly and pushed against the bare bit of wall while trying not to breathe too loud. Almost here.
I’d underestimated him. He didn’t linger on the first few rungs with worry like I did; he raced up the ladder and peered across the top, then smiled brightly when he found me. “I knew it,” he said.
“Stars. You win again.” I laughed with him and bumped our shoulders when he sat at my side. “How’d you find me this time?”
“A good guess,” he said, bouncing his brows playfully.
“Liar, You cheated, didn’t you? Watched me run to the barn when you should’ve kept your eyes closed.”
“I did no such thing,” he insisted, not dropping his grin at all.
“Admit it,” I said, nudging him more firmly this time. “Admit it!”
He answered by tangling with me in the loft, rolling one way and another while we laughed and wrestled. I wouldn’t let go of his obvious cheat, and he wouldn’t give me the satisfaction. But I no longer cared about winning or losing; we’d stumbled into rousing new territory. We knocked over blankets and hit each other with the soft bundles, battling through the sweet smell of dusty hay before he tackled me again. Each time his weight pinned me, I surrendered a little bit more. I became hyperaware of my own body—what I looked like, every touch, if my clothes moved, or where my bare skin met the loft’s wood floor. The details muddied.
Where were we, again?
He stumbled and fell at my side. We both panted through our chuckling, lying on our backs with our faces toward each other. Staring. Speaking without words because they made no difference.
My heart—which pounded from the moment I entered the barn—quickened even after we stopped moving. Something blossomed in the pit of my stomach that sent tingles all through me. My teeth felt fuzzy, too. It was scary. It was exciting. Perhaps both? What was the difference? I’d forever crave the same nervousness. I thought he nudged closer. Just his face. Just a bit. I hadn’t moved and was unsure how. He was pleasant to look at, and he didn’t ask me not to stare, so I helped myself. I studied his dark brows and the shape of his nose, the light tint of his lips, the thick coils of his hair. The barn was too dark to register the color of his eyes, though I tried, all the while wondering if he admired me the same way.
I didn’t question for a moment whether it was right or wrong. The many signals flooding through me battled for attention. What are you thinking? What am I thinking? The laughter vanished and my nose lightly tapped his—
He shut his eyes and closed the gap between us.
I gasped and held the inhale. He was warmer than I was, though blood rushed to the top of my head as my hair stood up. His soft lower lip gently pressed over mine. As brave as I thought I was, he triumphed in choosing his prize, stealing contact like I stole his book.
He startled and shot up to his knees. “Sorry. I’m s-sorry.”
“What?” I jolted too and glanced over the edge of the loft for any witnesses, though we remained alone.
“It was an accident. Forgive me.” He stood quickly and stepped over me to the ladder, descending as fast as he came up.
Watching him run away made my stomach sink. An accident? The excitement fizzled, leaving me unsatisfied, disappointed, and confused. I curled my knees to my chest and pressed my lips together, trying to remember exactly how he felt.
It was too brief to keep.
That night, sleep was impossible. I replayed the moment when my eyes were closed. I replayed it anew once my eyes were open. I kissed my own hand, but it wasn’t the same, and I already missed the flurry of nerves in the middle of my chest before it happened—a true thrill unmatched by any of my mischief. Even if he really didn’t mean to do it, I had to feel it again.
One last time. Only once.
The next morning, the boy didn’t meet me as we’d done of late. He was missing from all the usual places. While I searched, my heart jumped to my throat—for what? Worry? I tried to swallow it away, but another empty hiding spot where he’d normally be waiting for me made it race all over again.
Just before sunset, his unmistakable silhouette walked by the stables with something bulky on his shoulders. I didn’t care if he’d legitimately left the fortress for an errand; I hurried down the lattice outside my window to intercept any attempt to avoid me.
He caught my eye and quickly looked away, flooding me with cold dread. He adjusted the bundle on his shoulders as he walked.
“Where are you going?” I asked, rushing to keep up with him.
“Putting the grain away.”
“And after that?”
He lost his usual clear diction and half-swallowed his words. “I don’t know.” We reached the grain stores without saying more. He cleanly dropped the weight and filled one of the barrels to the brim, still adamant about hiding his face until the chore was over.
I itched to get started and ignored his obvious apprehension. “I spent most of the day looking for you, you know,” I said.
“Sorry.” He scratched the back of his neck and kicked at the ground to have something else to focus on instead of me.
My bitter disappointment threatened to turn into anger. I couldn’t give up yet. “You know what I think?” I folded my arms and looked at him sideways. “I think you’re embarrassed.”
He met my eyes but kept his face low. “You do?”
“Yes. Because you cheated yesterday.”
He blinked quickly. The longer he looked at me, the more his face went slightly pink. His lips were closed, but he smiled just enough to notice. “Did I?” he asked, raising a brow.
“Yes. And if I beat you to the front gates, you have to admit it. Deal?” I crouched for a starting position.
Matching my stance, he looked straight toward the gates. “Deal.”
We bolted. Initially, I overtook him, but he had an advantage with his longer legs and passed me. He weaved among the people in our path, including the old man who ran the stables.
That meant they were empty. An opportunity.
“I told you I didn’t cheat,” he taunted, still running.
“Is that what you wrote in your journal?”
His smile dropped, though he kept going. “What?”
I changed course and ran for the barn, certain he’d follow my empty threat. Even if I did find it, I wanted his presence, not his words. The loft ladder was in sight.
“Darian, wait!” His voice broke from yelling so hard.
“Is it up here?” I shouted back, rushing up the rungs faster than I dared the day before. Surely, he’d follow. My heart pounded again, thundering in my ears. The thrill of secrecy and curiosity blinded me.
I turned to see him running through the doors. The sun aged him from behind, showing only his height and good posture. He walked like a king and was truly beautiful, more than a friend, more than a boy—he ruled my mind unlike anyone else. His touch made me question destiny and who I was meant to become, opening my eyes to new possibilities.
In my distraction, I hesitated. Only for a moment. But the pause in momentum was more of a risk than my minders could know.
I lost my footing near the top of the ladder and fell. The rush wasn’t pleasant at all, and the ground was so far away. I smacked my left arm on the top of a horse stall door on my way down. I struggled to breathe at first and clutched my chest, gasping for air that couldn’t get in, which was somehow more frightening than the searing pain that radiated down my hand and up my shoulder.
“Darian?” My friend knelt at my side and hurriedly assessed how I was injured. Without a word from me, he ripped off his simple shirt and wrapped my arm to contain the bleed and cover its gruesome and unnatural bend. “Try to breathe.”
Finally, I calmed enough to choke in a little air. That certainly helped with the screaming. I curled into my arm and shook. For a few minutes, I flowed in and out of consciousness. People rushed to check me over and make sure I wasn’t hurt in other ways. Fortunately, my arm was the only casualty other than my pride.
I knew the minders wanted me to stay safe for my own welfare, but I hadn’t considered how my being injured would impact the welfare of everyone else. While I shut my eyes tight and grimaced through new pain as my arm was set, Father stormed into the barn. His bellows startled the horses just as much as the people.
“What happened to him?” Father shouted. “I want answers this instant.”
I opened my eyes and tried to speak, but I still felt too dizzy to think clearly.
Fearless as ever, only my friend answered. “He fell, sire.”
“From where, exactly?”
“Just below the loft. Darian—”
“Prince Darian.” Father stood in front of the boy and looked down, proving his power by height alone. “You will not disrespect my house with informality. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sire. Of course, sire. I meant no offense.” He bowed his head as low as it could go.
Father shook his head. “You’re unworthy company for him. I think you know it, too.”
Unworthy? I hissed in pain while my bandage was tightened, but the pang in my chest was much worse. It was one thing to dislike my chosen companions, but to purposely divide us?
My friend waited a beat, then nodded. He lost the fire of his courage from a minute before.
Father turned to me and sighed. “The barn is no place for games. It’s dangerous. This is exactly why I’ve urged you to be more careful, yet you continue to ignore me.”
I was too ashamed to refute him and silently cried.
“Of all the places in Aries, why here, Darian?” Father asked.
“Sire, the prince is innocent.” My friend stood as tall as he could and raised his right arm high above his head in another act of bravery—or stupidity. “I was responsible for his injury.”
I gaped at him while everyone else whispered in disapproval. Why are you taking the fall for me?
Father grumbled. As he looked at the boy, his brow furrowed; he homed in on something I couldn’t see. Without warning, he blurted, “Arms at your sides.”
The boy did as he was told, immediately changing position.
“That’s enough of this,” Father said, gesturing to the healer at my side. “Bring the prince to the palace immediately.”
“Father, wait—”
“All of you are dismissed. I’ve a lesson to teach to the stableboy, here. Go.” Father remained in the barn with his eyes on the boy while everyone else scrambled.
“On your feet, young sire,” the healer whispered, ushering me to move faster.
Father scolded my friend in a tone I’d never heard before, frightening me with the mere idea that he’d berate me the same way. “You’re not to associate with my son ever again. Is that clear?”
“Y-yes, sire.”
“I don’t want you speaking to anyone about this. In fact, I don’t want you speaking to anyone at all.” Father yelled for all the people in the barn and those watching outside, “Let it be known that from this point forth, all servants of House Thrace are to remain silent as a sign of respect.”
I cried all the way back to the palace and continued until long after nightfall. Word of my accident spread fast through the fortress, and the minders who were supposed to be keeping me in line received their own admonishment from Father. Guilt ripped through my heart for every angry accusation he threw at them, especially since I couldn’t exactly help them by admitting my own recklessness.
As I lay in bed, hoping to relive pleasant moments in my dreams instead of painful ones, a small part of me hoped Father’s temper would ease and tomorrow I’d resume the same routine with my friend. Play draughts in the courtyard with the girl. Heal quickly from my arm and learn to be a bit more careful.
Surely Father didn’t mean it…they can’t all be silent forever.
***
A strong hand slapped over my mouth. I screamed, but my broken arm made it too hard to fight them off. Another person grabbed my legs while a third assisted. Whatever their aim, it wasn’t to hurt me. It was to keep me still.
It wasn’t yet sunrise. There was movement all through my chambers as people packed my things: my clothes in the wardrobe against the wall, my books, my precious memories. All of the intruders wore dark masks, save one.
Father sat on my bed close to my shoulder while I struggled. “Shh…Darian, it’s all right.”
I pleaded with wide open eyes. What’s happening?
“I’m sending you to Narvis with Bertram. It’s a bit early for you, but I think it will do you some good to start your formal training now. You’ll be safer there. More time to prepare will ensure safety when you’re old enough to rule on your own, too.”
I surrendered to the people holding me and went limp. New tears came in earnest. “What?” I said, muffled but clearly enough that he understood me.
“You’ll return to Aries when you come of age.” Father wept, too—a side of him I’d never seen and wondered if it was even real. “You’re the man of the people, my son. I know that, now.”
They uncovered my mouth as a simple mercy. “But this is our home. Aries is the new capital, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But it’s not the heart of Rhodantha—not yet. You still need training in all the old ways. Need to see the eastern sea, learn about Vargar’s treaty, become keen with a sword and a horse. It’s better if you’re away from here.”
“Why?” I cried, crumbling from the inside out. “I’m sorry, Father. I’m so sorry. Whatever I did, I’ll make up for it. I promise.”
He pressed his bearded lips together. In the twilight of blue from outside, his red hair was nearly purple, making him less frightening. “Oh, Darian. I…I simply want to keep you safe.” After wiping his eyes and standing quickly, Father kept his back to me while standing in the doorway. “I’ll miss you, my son.”
“Wait, you’re not coming with me?”
He slowly shook his head, still facing away from me and addressing someone in the hall. “Take him down as soon as possible. Be out of Aries by sunrise.”
“But I need to say goodbye,” I screamed, struggling again while four people held me back this time. “Please let me say goodbye, Father. Please!”
The people he ordered were true to their word. Every servant and soldier Father recruited for my relocation ignored my tears and focused on their task instead. By the time we reached Einheim’s border, I ran out of energy to weep. The dusty main road to Narvis twisted over crops and arid space that seemed to stretch forever. While I wasn’t born in Aries, it was the only home I knew, and I prayed Father exaggerated when he said I would return only when I came of age. Ten years would be too long.
According to my cousin Bertram, Father made sure the boy from the stables would be kept under tight lock and key, yet I knew strength set him apart. One day, he’d surprise every noble in Aries, maybe all of Rhodantha. He’d prove his worthiness to fraternize with kings and queens. His selfless sacrifice was not in vain.
That last summer in Aries was the end of my childhood, but it was also a new beginning. The stableboy awakened a truth in my soul. Even if it was only in my dreams, someday we’d meet in the barn loft again and continue the kiss that I never forgot.
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