Alexander

Harold and I manage to succeed in tilling the majority of the fields before Silas is visible again, weaving in and out of homes as he is steered closer to the back wall of the kingdom. We have our backs propped against the stone of the wall, sitting beneath the shade of it and looking out at the freshly turned soil of his plot of land. 

My old friend falls quiet once Illius and his Vann-Hest are close enough for him to notice, and makes an effort to pull himself to his feet. I reach to touch his arm and offer a soothing smile. 

"It's alright," I convince him to stay seated beside me with the tone of my voice and a hand on his shoulder. It is in his nature to resume business when in the presence of someone higher ranking than himself, but he trusts enough in my words to remain with me, against his better judgment. "This is just my friend. He is bringing us lunch." 

Illius pulls Silas to a halt yards away from us, aware of how nervous he makes Harold. He carries a covered basket in his hand and dismounts, holding it up as he walks towards us as if waving a flag of peace for the old man to see. 

"Hello again," He greets, pausing to set the basket beside me. "I have to tie this beast up, but I will be right back." He goes to do as promised before Silas breaks the silent command given to him and he makes a break towards the middle of the city, where many women and children go about their day unsuspectingly. 

As if on cue, the gigantic Vann-Hest lets loose a less than pleased growl, raising his front hooves in a rear. White mane ripples against his neck as he tosses his head and pins his ears at Illius as he nears, hands outstretched in attempts to soothe him. 

A scene suddenly plays before my eyes that makes me start. The Vann-Hest, looking as angry as the Devil himself, lunges forward and sinks sharpened teeth into the arm of my Captain. He effortlessly swings him back and forth like a doll as Illius' scream pierces the air.

 The vision ends as quickly as it had come, leaving my heart pounding violently inside of my chest. 

As if somehow sensing my distress, Illius lowers his hands and steps backward from the animal, suddenly infinitely more cautious about his approach. He doesn't take his watchful eyes from Silas, but I feel his attention on me. In my panic, I must have sent him a message of warning, and it seems as though he has received it well.

Silas rears again, throwing his reins askew as another enraged sound resonates from his flared nostrils. He looks ready to charge his Rider the very moment that his hooves touch the ground again, despite Illius' obvious strain to keep him under control. There is a twinge of unease from my Captain as he realizes that his coaxing has no effect and that he has lost authority over his steed. 

I waste no more time, sensing the impending disaster. It takes me a beat to find the string that leads to Silas' thoughts, but the pure rage is easy to discern from that of Sage and Wilhelmina, who are calm and content. I stare directly into the Vann-Hest's black eyes, focusing my intent only on him. I imagine my hands gripping onto the string of his consciousness like a rope, and grab on to it with the strength of a vice. Pushing past the brightness of his anger, I force a message past it for him to hear, louder than the waves crashing in his ears.

Be still.

The command hits its mark like an expertly released arrow, taking the beast off guard. Silas side steps, the whites of his eyes showing in fear at the foreign voice inside of his head. The raging waters of his emotions smooth over in the next moment in his confusion, and his ivory ears flick forward once more as he stills. He shakes his head in bewilderment but remains in place.

Illius promptly fetches the reins with steady hands and leads him to a nearby tree. He finds the sturdiest branch within reach and ties a secure knot to anchor his unpredictable beast, pulling it tightly for reassurance.

Harold speaks up beside me, reminding me that he is there, as I had forgotten for a moment. "That's why I don't trust those beasts. No Rider has total control over the savages. They're too dangerous." His voice is soft and disapproving as he looks over at the pair. 

  Seeing that my Captain is now safe, I begin to go through the basket of food in silence. My rummaging reveals a humble amount of bread and cheese, as well as a small bundle of smoked meat. After wiping my hands clean on the cloth that protected the food from flies, I break the loaf of bread and offer half of it to Harold, who looks in amazement at the gift. 

He spares a hesitant glance at Illius, who finishes securing the hulking creature, before taking the food that is presented to him. "Where did he get this?" He mumbles suspiciously, nibbling on the crust in his dirty hands.

I offer him a small chunk of cheese to accompany it. "Illius is good friends with the Prince. Do not worry, he has permission from him to give this to us. He is happy to share."

"The Prince...?" Harold frowns in confusion but doesn't continue his sentence as Illius returns. Does he believe my mother to still be a Princess at this time? With the glimpse into my old friend's mind, I begin to better understand his perception of the world around him. If he still believes my Grandfather to be the King, his unease towards Noblemen would be understandable and quite justified. They were not always as fair as they are now, under my parent's rule.

My Captain remains standing, but leans onto the wall beside me, reading my expression with a grateful, ghost of a smile. He is one of the few people alive who is aware of my ability to reach animals other than my own, so he is fully aware of the way that I took command of the situation a moment ago. His fingers dust against the curls at the back of my head, discretely acknowledging the act and thanking me. He retracts his hand and folds his arms before Harold notices. He diverts his eyes out at the fields and the dirt path beyond them, remaining always vigilant beside me. "You're filthy." He comments, sparing me an exasperated look. 

I snort in response, biting into my portion of bread. I toss the cheese to Sage, who lays at my feet, watching the two men on either side of me with an intense interest that neither of them notices, the same way she had monitored the incident with Silas. Unlike with Illius' Vann-hest, she knows that they are no threat, though she still carefully observes their body language with her acute senses, in case either of their intents suddenly change. She gobbles up the food and lays her head on my boot. 

Seeing my rejection of the food, Illius comments, "There is honey butter in the basket for you." He must have foreseen me giving my bit of cheese to Sage to have packed it in advance. The large loaf of bread that he had packed also suggests that he knew that I would split the meal with Harold. He is as clever as a fox.

I can't help but smile a little as I slather a bit of sweetened butter onto my roll, pleased at how well my friend knows me. I always preferred honey to cheese, though it is a delicacy, especially in these times. Knowing this, I offer some of the spread to Harold, to share in the delight. 

The old man doesn't seem to recognize the gold tinted substance, so he shakes his head and sticks to eating the cheese with his bread, happy to have the basics to fill his stomach. Of course he wouldn't  realize what my beloved butter is. He's likely never seen it, or even heard of it, in his life. 

It is sometimes easy for me to forget that not all of my people had a similar upbringing as me. The thought brings a new wave of guilt. Though I am aware that I have no hand in the game that Fate orchestrates, I cannot help but think of my people, who were raised on far less than myself. If I think the growling of my stomach is uncomfortable, I try to imagine how many pangs of hunger they must feel a day.

I glance over at my old friend. He is clearly very thin and malnourished, with prominent bones in his face and hands. Even his shoulders seem too thin and impossibly frail, like the wings of a bird. I cannot help but wonder if he has always been this way, struggling to eat and breaking his back so that I can enjoy my meals.

With a heavy heart, I hand Harold the entire strip of dried beef from the bottom of the basket.

Surprised by the gesture, he reaches for it, hesitating. "You won't have any?" 

I shake my head, firmly placing the meat into his hand. "I've eaten plenty. Take it, you have been working hard." 

Harold furrows his bushy, white brows, and sets the remaining piece of bread in his lap, while popping the rest of his cheese into his mouth. Illius watches us quietly as the old man tears the beef in a nearly even half, and hands one of them to me. "So have you," He reasons, pressing the portion of food into my palm. "You have also worked well, Son. You need your strength." 

I smile at his kindness, touched that he is so concerned over me, despite his condition. I accept it gratefully, though discreetly wipe the soil from the food before eating it, not wanting to offend my friend. "Thank you." I hope that he can hear the sincerity in my voice.

Illius is quiet for the remainder of our lunch, but Harold continues to give him uneasy looks from the corner of his milky eyes. When he's eaten the rest of his food, he clears his throat and drinks some water from a very worn, goatskin canteen. He offers some of its contents to me as he wipes a dribble from his chin.

I decline politely, taking a similar, cleaner container from Illius, who had handed his own water supply to me only a second before. Judging from the coolness of the water on my parched throat, he had filed it recently with fresh water before coming back here. He knew how thirsty I would be after working outside in the sun. His intricate planning has never left me anything but pleased.

Harold says nothing and puts the cork stopper back in place, setting his water aside. "Since your friend is waiting for you, you may as well go." He grunts as he makes to stand and is faulty knee proves difficult to use, no doubt because he has been sitting for so long without moving it.

I  grab on to the old man's arm, scrambling to help him up. "No, it is alright." I protest, waiting for Harold to appear steady enough for me to release him.

He touches my hand that holds him, and I let go. My friend smiles, revealing several missing teeth, and pats my arm again with his soil encrusted hand. "Son, there isn't much work left to be done. I can handle the rest within the hour."

"Are you certain?" I ask, glancing down to his knee in concern. Will he be able to manage it now that his old injury has been irritated? 

Harold laughs, a hoarse sound, and pats his thigh firmly. "This leg of mine has lasted this long already. The work is good for it. Go on, now, but come back tomorrow, ya hear?" 

If it weren't so late in the afternoon, I wouldn't even consider letting him continue the work alone, but I cannot forget about the council that I asked to be gathered soon. I nod, embracing his forearm in parting. "Yes, of course. Take care." 

Illius gathers together the basket and the cloth as I watch Harold hobble back towards the last field to finish tilling the earth by himself, not looking back. He is a proud man, for certain, and would not ask for help, even if he needed it. The fact that he accepted my offer to work with him today further proves my speculations about him. He is getting too old and weak to manage this land by himself.

"Must you let him touch you? Look at the state of your tunic." Illius tsks, looking down at the sleeves of my shirt. He reaches for my left hand and faces it skyward to expose my palm. 

"What are you doing?" I ask, watching my Captain search the surface of my skin, as intently as a fox watches a mouse. 

"Ah, there," He remarks as he discovers what he was looking for, and blows in an attempt to clear the dirt from the blister on my hand to see it more clearly. "I wish you wouldn't subject yourself to this sort of treatment. Your body is not used to it."  

I sigh, pulling my hand away before he tries to clean it with water from his canteen. "Someone has to help him. Leave it be, I will bathe before meeting the council."

With a heavy sigh, Illius complies. "As you wish..." There is a moment of silence before he continues, his eyes dropping to his boots. "Thank you, for earlier. I can't imagine what got into that wicked beast."

I motion for Wilhelmina from beneath the shade of the wall, and she glides over in silence. I reach to fix one of the straps on her bridle, unafraid of the teeth the grind against the bit at my elbow. "You cannot?" I question, patting the shimmering skin of my Vann-Hest. From a slight distance, Mina's crimson coat may seem similar to that of a land horse. When seen up close, however, the eye can make out the tiny, overlapping scales that smooth over one another, just like that of a fish. 

Illius watches the interaction, his steel eyes shining with some emotion that I can't decipher. "No, Sir. I cannot." He says, voice gentle as he admits his lack of understanding. It is almost as if he is watching Wilhelmina and I for the first time, though he has seen the interaction a countless number of times before. 

I turn to my Captain, expression serious. "There are two factors, at least, that contribute to Silas' outburst. The sun is very bright on his skin today, drying it out. There are also many people in the city this morning, and you have kept him out in the crowds since dawn. Wouldn't you be irritated?" 

Illius' eyes widen with realization, as my words sink in. "So, that is why... I apologize, I am foolish for not realizing it sooner." 

I sigh, shaking my head. "Illius, you have to exercise more vigilance with him, especially around my people. I know that you are always so focused on me and my well-being, and for that, I am eternally grateful. However, what if I hadn't been with you, today? What will happen if you lose your composure and control over Silas when I am not around?"

Illius, the typically happy and smiling man, lowers his gaze in shame. He knows that my words are true, and his lips do not move in an attempt to interject, further attesting to how badly he feels about his mistake.

Seeing how akin he looks to a kicked puppy, I cannot help but feel guilty for scolding him. However, it is my duty to be certain that he understands the weight of his responsibility. He is not only tasked with my protection but with the well-being of my people, as well. A Rider is a difficult position to be had, undoubtedly, and particularly straining on the minds of those who ride the more ill-tempered animals of the sea. If Fate has paired them together, though, there is no doubt that Illius is equipt enough to handle Silas. 

I reach for my Captain's shoulder and ask him to look at me. "I do not mean to scold you. Practice with Silas more. Become as aware of his emotions and needs as you are of mine. Keep him content, and he will be much easier to sooth and more likely to obey your commands," I pause, recalling the vision that I had of what could have been, had I not intervened. 

A muscle is my jaw jumps at the recall. I decide to ask him. "Did you see? You stopped so suddenly, that I assume you must have..." I ask, referring to the vision. Regardless of me not having shouted for him, Illius was able to realize that something was terribly wrong with the situation.

Illius turns his eyes into mine and gives a slight nod, barely moving his head. His gaze then slips over my shoulder, to Harold as he works hundreds of yards away from us. Despite the impossibly of the hearing impaired man catching wind of the conversation, my Captain lowers his voice. "Yes. You showed me what you saw."

My mother told me about how she and my Uncle Lance are connected, similarly to how a Rider is to his Vann-Hest. If you are bonded tightly enough to someone, she told me, that the mind-melding is possible with anyone, even outside of your bloodlines. Though Illius and I have been very close since childhood, I had never been able to establish that particular bond with him, much to my dismay. I have never been closer to another human in my life. It seems as though that the high stress of the situation was able to lay down the grounds for such a thing.

"I'm sorry," I apologize, releasing his shoulder. "That must have startled you."

To my surprise, Illius smiles and touches my forearm, despite having mentioned how dirty I am. His steel colored orbs stare directly into mine, exposing so much honesty in them that my heart softens. "It certainly did, and it may have saved my life. I am honored to be bound to you, Sandy. I am the one who should apologize. I never intended to put you through such worry. I will not let it happen again, I swear to you."

I nod firmly, having no doubt in his words. "I know. I believe in you."

The corners of my Captain's eyes crinkle, and he tousles my sweat dampened curls. "Thank you. Shall we be going? It would be a shame to miss your own meeting." 

I glance up to the sky, shielding my eyes with a hand. "Blast, you're right. Let us go, then."

After weaving through the crowd of city folk who do their best to stay out of Silas' way, we manage to make it to the stables. I don't have the time, but I still untack and groom Wilhelmina well myself, making certain that her water is cool and full, and that her meat bin has a shank or two in it. Satisfied with my mare's comfort in the cool shade of her stall, I head towards the castle with Sage by my side.

Illius will follow shortly after since he must attend to his Vann-Hest himself. No stable hand will dare venture close enough to Silas, afraid to even feed and water the beast. He must even rival my mother's famed water horse, Lasreal, for his temper, and he once took a man's hand off. 

Upon entering the castle, two of my Guardsmen join me, appearing from doorways on either side of me to flank me as we continue striding towards my chambers. Neither men say anything as their the sound of their boots on the stone floor accompanies mine. My Guard knows well enough that I am not particularly fond of unnecessary conversation, so if they have nothing to report to me, they do not initiate it. 

Sage doesn't turn to look back at either of the men, but her quick ears turn behind us, and she falls back to walk beside me rather than in front, placing herself between them and myself. I trust my men wholeheartedly, but Sage does not place such faith in any man or woman. The only ones that she trusts are me, and herself. Perhaps she is not so wrong to think that way. In times of war, even the closest companions can be turned against you.

Like my mother and father, I assembled my own protection by hand. If nothing else, I put faith in my deduction skills to discern who was the most trustworthy of all the other applicants to join my Guard. A serpent has never slithered past me before, and I have no doubt that my eyes remain as sharp as ever. Humans are easy enough to read, once you learn how. Their bodies and actions will always reveal their deepest intents and emotions if only you look hard enough. Mankind was built to betray itself.

My Guardsmen take position outside of my chamber doors, one in the hallway, and the other at the second door behind it. Sage follows me inside and remains beside me as a bath is drawn and I begin cleansing the sweat and dirt from my skin. 

There are two knocks, then a two-second pause before a third sounds at the inner door. Immediately recognizing the pattern, I call for Illius to enter. 

I've emerged from the washing basin and have a clean pair of trousers covering my waist. I am standing in front of my open wardrobe, deciding what I should wear when Illius finds me the bedroom.

Upon seeing me standing wet and half-naked, my friend sighs. "You'll catch your death like that. I'll light a fire." 

I hadn't registered the cool temperature in the room until he says this, and a chill runs up my exposed back. It seemed warm when I was moving about in the hot sun, but now that I've cooled off, I realize that the day is not as nice as I thought. The chill of winter still clings to the early spring air. 

Illius arranges fresh logs in the hearth of the fireplace and casts a glance to me to see what I am doing. "Wear something with long sleeves. Something thick, too." He suggests, turning back to strike the fire to life. 

I pull a thick tunic from the wardrobe and pull it over my head, lacing up the ties at the front. 

Illius motions me towards the fire, and I comply, feeling the gooseflesh rise on my arms. My Captain reaches to touch my hair with a frown. "You intend to leave it so wet? You will surely become ill." 

"I haven't the time to worry about that, I am already late," I argue, watching Illius as he leaves my side and disappears into the bathing quarters of the chamber, ignoring what I'm saying. 

He returns with a towel and takes it upon himself to use it to dry my head. "Of course you do. Your Council will wait for you. Better to be a moment late than bedridden with sickness. They would surely prefer it that way, as well."

 Once Illius is satisfied and I am warmed enough by the blaze in the hearth, we prepare to head towards the conference hall. As we make our way out, we pass by several people of my Court, who stop and bow as we pass. Many of them are friendly with one another, and accompany each other to their destinations. 

Compared to how they walk beside each other, Illius and I are close, even on a physical scale. We walk so near to each other, that our arms brush at nearly all times, though it is not strange to either of us or any who truly know our closeness. I would not allow another man to treat me with such familiarity, and all who see us are well aware of the fact. Illius would not allow it, either, and neither would the black beast who walks on the other side of me. If Illius and I were not brought up in each other's company, I wonder if we would still be so bonded. I strongly believe so, and that he would have become my Captain, regardless. Fate rarely changes its mind.

"For what reason did you call for this assembly, Sandy?" Illius asks, his voice like the rushing of a stream in the quiet hallway. "It is rare for you." 

I dip my head in a nod as we walk by a Duke and his wife, and they bow in return. They must be here to visit their son, who resides within my walls. Judging by their strained smiles and hardened eyes, it hadn't gone according to their plan. They cast a glare at my Captain before going on their way. I turn my eyes away and answer Illius' question. "Spending all of that time in the fields has given me time to think. I have a proposition for my parent's advisors." 

-

Author's Note

I intended to finish and post this chapter yesterday, but considering that it was a holiday, I decided to update it today, instead. I hope you all enjoyed your Halloween! I'd like to try and keep this story updated once a week if I can. It would be nice to try and keep some sort of consistency with Paragon Prince since Runaway Princess was so much the opposite. You lovely readers deserve at least that much.

As always, thank you so much for reading, voting and commenting on my works, it truly makes my day. Let me know of any spelling or grammar mistakes that may have escaped my attention, and I'd be happy to fix them. Thank you! 

Gratefully yours, 

-A.