The door squeaked open and another prince stepped in. “Sorry, I’m late.” He was breathing heavily.
Aizel, who had been standing supportively at Sol’s side, approached the man and took his hand. “Erich, this is Sol.”
Sol stood fully as she led the newcomer toward him.
Erich extended his hand in welcome.
Sol took in the man’s loud purple doublet, welcoming smile, and guileless eyes. He did not immediately accept the prince’s hand.
“The master diver who taught you how to swim before your skill grew greater than his?” Erich’s words were spoken to Aizel, but he still held his hand out in welcome.
Sol felt the ghost of a smile play across his lips. The prince managed to convey admiration for Aizel, humor for a welcome, and a knowledge of who Sol was in such a simple greeting.
Sol kept his face solemn, but extended his own hand to the prince. “That’s the way we are telling the story now?” Sol said, glancing quickly to Aizel, who shrugged.
“Welcome to Iseldis,” Erich responded. “I look forward to learning much from you.”
Sol nodded, unsure how to respond to such a greeting.
Erich had already turned back toward his father. “Where’s Mum?” he asked.
“Steward Daniel requested her presence quite urgently. She assured me she would join us as soon as she could.”
Spinning fully around, Erich took in the room and leaned back against the chest next to Sol, where Aizel had been a few moments before. She settled in next to him.
“Meena,” King Frederich turned to the daughter at his side. “Would you mind going to look for her?”
The princess crossed her arms. “Yes, in fact. I would mind.”
Shocked at her response, Sol glanced at the king.
“It was worth an attempt,” King Frederich muttered under his breath, seemingly unsurprised.
“You’ll have to try harder than that.” Meena pushed herself from her makeshift chair and came to stand on the other side of Sol.
Sol followed her movement, confused at the moment of family interaction he had just been witness to.
Glancing up at him as she settled herself beside him, Meena must have seen something in his face. “He was trying to get me out of the room before the discussion got too serious,” she whispered, but her voice was loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room.
Sol quickly forced his face back into a neutral expression. He did not have the luxury of showing his thoughts and he flexed his ankle, lightly nudging the chest behind him with the bottom of his foot. He should not have let his guard down. It would not happen again.
His eyes quickly scanned the rest of the room, ensuring no one else saw his earlier expression. It crossed his mind that the two other women in the room—Aizel and a dark-haired seamstress whose name he could not recall—had not been asked to leave the room. It was none of his concern, though. He could not blame the king for wanting to shield his daughter from the horrors of the world. Sol only wished he could shield every child on Istroya from the darkness they had faced at the hands of the Quotidian.
“I do not believe you are my enemy,” King Frederich said, bringing Sol’s attention back to him. “Nor do I clearly understand whom or what I am fighting against. Should you share the information you have knowledge of, I will do my best to aid you in service of the safety of ...” The king paused for a barely perceptible moment. “Our people.”
Sol glanced to his side, looking past Erich to Aizel. She was the only person in the room he trusted, but so many things about their circumstances had changed even that was shaky ground.
“We stand no chance, and neither do they,” she said quietly. “There is no secret you can share which would worsen our situation.”
Sol inhaled, she’d verbalized his thoughts. Before he looked back at the king, however, he found himself glancing to the other side, to the princess.
She looked back at him. Despite the tense turn of her lips, she looked so young, so untouched by the worries and pains which plagued every other person of his small community. He did not want to be the one who shattered her understanding of the world, but another small part of him reveled in the words he was about to say. Something angry tightened inside him. Anger that his sisters and his mother were never offered the same opportunity for a carefree childhood. That his father was sentenced to seasons of torment for trying to give them a better chance.
Sol finally turned his gaze back to the king. The thoughts swirled through his mind in barely a moment, though he felt them deeply. He inhaled, preparing to speak. If he’d had the ability to shield someone he loved from unnecessary pain, he would do anything to make that possible. Though he might shatter this girl’s world, he would not take pleasure in doing so.
“My people are skilled craftsmen. Under the cruel eye of the Quotidian taskers on Istroya, we have constructed several warships complete with magical additions and properties.”
King Frederich’s face remained passive, but Sol could see the way his eyelids rose slightly and his nostrils flared. “To what end?” he asked.
