Hadrian

"We will attack in the early hours of the morning."

Lord Dwennon leans on the table with both hands and looks around. His small eyes pause on me and his perpetual frown deepens. I meet his gaze calmly.

He averts his eyes and peers at the map spread before him.

"They will be sleepy, and the guards tired after the night watch. They will not expect us to attack before dawn."

He goes on speaking about the trebuchets and the archers and the arrangement of the troops, but my mind keeps drifting away. Warfare always sounded so boring to me.

I scan the faces around the table. Most are bearded, old, weathered men, who were friends with my father and took parts in his military adventures. Yet it's not just the memory of him that brings them here, but the desire to keep the status quo he maintained for the last few decades. He united them under his rule and did well in settling their quarrels. Now, the balance is fragile between these old fools, each of them thinking himself better than the others. There's no way they could choose one of their own to be the new king. The only person they could possibly rally around is me, given my clear right to the throne. It doesn't really matter what they think of my abilities to rule. They don't need a ruler. They need a symbol and a marionette.

"It's a good plan," I say when Dwennon finishes his explanations. "Old school at its best, I'd say."

Some of them smile politely at my flattery, but Dwennon only nods, and his thick short fingers begin to roll the map into a scroll. He doesn't like me. Never did. He's one of the few people that no amount of flirting could ever steer into liking me in any way. I was always as much a puzzle to him as I was to my father. But now that they need me, he puts up with me.

I wonder how much of the respect and the hand kissing and the kneeling I received today was sincere. I saw them bowing and flattering, but I also saw their sideway glances and heard their whispers as rumors spread around me like they always did.

It shouldn't bother me, and yet it does. These people are nothing but stones paving my way to my throne, yet it stings to know that I'll be surrounded by so much insincerity. Perhaps they will change their mind once I prove myself a capable ruler. Otherwise, I'll just become the puppet they want me to be, and the only people who will have real interest in me will be the ones wanting to worm their way into my bed.

Jasper sure wants that. His standing to the right from Dwennon, and glances at me every now and then. He could never stop looking at my face when we were together. He never made a move or anything, but his admiration was unmistakable. It warms my heart. Perhaps when the fighting is done, I could gradually surround myself with such people—those who love me. Whether sexual desire counts for love is still an open question, but that seems to be the only kind of love I ever inspire in people.

A servant circles the table with a plate of breads and cheese. Another one pours wine for the nobles discussing the attack. I reach out and pick a piece of bread from the tray, waving the wine away. I need to keep a clear head today, so drinking is out of question. As for the food, I can't get enough of it. I have been constantly nibbling on things all day.

The common discussion has broken into many little conversations, and I feel left out. Throughout the day every time I joined any military conversation people would just go quiet, listen politely, thank me and continue where they had stopped. They are all experienced men who can do their job, while my military knowledge is admittedly barely existent. I feel like a child trying to impress adults who are willing to humor me at best. This feeling has begun to get to me as the day progressed, and now that the sun is setting outside, and my fatigue is growing, I just wish to be anywhere but here, with anyone but these people.

I get up, and everybody look at me.

"My lords, I need fresh air and time to gather my thoughts," I say. "It's going to be a long and eventful night, so I beg you excuse me."

They bow, and I exit the tent, wondering what they'll say once I'm out of their earshot.

The sun is setting behind the trees and the sky is orange and purple. The evening colors play on the city walls in the distance. I can see tiny figures of the centuries moving there. The city is preparing, as do we.

Our camp is bustling with activity. The rows of tents spread as far as I can see, and among them people move around, carrying things, leading horses; there're shouts and sounds of metal hitting metal as solders practice with their swords somewhere out of my sight. It's annoying how little I have to do with any of that. Everybody's acting on someone else's orders, not mine.

Why should it bother me? Not every king must be a warrior. I might not know how to plan a siege or lead an attack but there are soldiers and generals for that. I can be above it. I just need to rule.

God, who am I fooling? I have not the slightest idea how to be a king.

I rub my shoulders in the evening chill and become aware of the slice of bread still in my hand. I bite on it, staring at the dying sunset. If anything, real food is wonderful. I should send some to Bruno. Or maybe not, that would look wrong. They surely fed him, anyway.

I shouldn't think about him. Something strange happened between us that shouldn't have. It stirred me a little, but now I'm back on my track. I'm a royal and he's a servant. It was a mistake to get too close to him, to let him know too much. What if he speaks? Yet what could he tell people that is worse than what they're already saying about me?

I shake my head. Once I'm a king, I'll just cut people's heads off for as much as a disrespectful look and cut their tongues out for spreading rumors.

I will be a king tomorrow. There's little doubt about that. The army behind me is strong and united, and the rebels have little experience and even less discipline. Tomorrow, everything I have dreamed of will become reality.

I look at the walls of the city, and all I can feel is dread.