My father has been quiet recently. During dinner last night, he didn’t speak at all except to tell a servant that his soup was cold. She was so embarrassed. I tried to hide my bowl. “Young Master, is your soup also cold? I am sorry!” She bowed her head and clasped her hands together. “No, no, no. Thank you, Victoria. My soup is fine.” It was a little cold, but it usually is and I’m not bothered. It is strange though. From my bedroom window, I can see an orange glow in the nights and when all the staff goes to bed, I can hear the buzzing of voices past the wall. It is the early morning. I am nearly blinded by the glint of sunlight as I finish my calligraphy. My final period looks like an apostrophe. “Miss Dawkin, I’ve finished. May I be excused?” “Yes, prince Lenier. Remember, you have a two foot parchment due by Tuesday.” “Yes, Miss Dawkin, I will. Thank you.” On the walk from the East Wing to the West Wing for political science, I look up. Recently, all of my robes have become to small for me. The seamstresses have been very busy. I’m almost at tall as my father actually. Still quite a bit shorter than my mother. But when I gaze up at the white arches of the castle corridors, I feel like a child once more. I quickly glance over my shoulder. “Hellooo!” The hall answers, “hello, hello, hello...” “Hello, Young Master. Do you need something.” An old man comes from around a corner. I didn’t know there was anybody around and scramble over my words. “Oh... Umm... no, thank you. Sorry. I was just....” I gesture to the arched ceilings. “Please don’t be sorry, master. Just call if you need anything.” I hate that I am never alone this castle. The professor for Political Science is a retired general from my father’s army. He is quite rude, but it is almost refreshing. He is the only person in my life who doesn’t talk to me like a child. Even my parents tell me to leave the room anytime a soldier comes to give a report or an advisors needs to speak to my father. General Haft is different. Today, we are discussing civil unrest, which is odd since the topic of the last two months of courses has been agriculture. “Now, Lenier, what should a king do if his subjects grow restless due to food supplies being used abroad for soldiers in combat?” “Well of this is the case, the King should probably remove some of his troops from the front lines so that more supplies can be spread amongst the people until the next season’s crops are ready for distribution.” “Wrong.” “Excuse me?” “A king should never cave into the whims of peasants. Is shows weakness.” “But if the citizenry is starving, how are they to work.” “They will work because the king demands it. Any form of compromise tells them you are easily pressured. The king is a symbol. If you change your mind, you are human. And humans make mistakes.” “But-“ “And the King never makes mistakes.” I could see there was no point arguing further. The discussion with General Haft left bitter taste in my mouth. Assuming Haft was merely being obtuse, I march to my father’s throne room to discuss the topics we spoke of in class. I absentmindedly push the gold and crimson doors open to see my mother and father encircled by advisors speaking in strained hushed voices. Everyone turns to face me. “Sorry, father. In now not a good time?” “No, Lenier, now is a fine time. Everything is fine.” He looks at his advisors and points to the doors I had just entered through. They all leave, some grumbling or shaking nervously. “What is it my boy?” “Today, General Haft seemed rather on edge. I don’t mean to speak ill of anyone, but he was extremely apathetic to the wellness of our kingdom’s constituency.” “Well, son, you know General Haft is a greatly respect Veteran of my army.” “Yes, father, I know.” “Then I think it best for you to listen to the General. He is smart man and for the record, he’s saved my life on more than one occasion.” He smiles, looking me in the eyes. “Yes, father! I know. But still, is it not the job of a ruler to take care of-“ Wait... I smell smoke.