“Try to shade the tree like this.” Jru carefully colored one side of the sketch with light strokes of his pencil. “It adds depth. See?”
“I’m trying!” Esben groaned in frustration. “Mine never look as good as yours.”
Jru laughed. “I’ve been drawing a lot longer than you have.”
“So I’ll never catch up,” Esben said. “Cause you’re older than me.”
“Oh, you’ll catch up,” Jru told him, smiling. “Give yourself time. Soon you’ll be better than I am!”
“Maybe,” Esben said doubtfully. “But Artham won’t ever be as good as Aunt Illia.”
Both of them turned to look at where the young Throne Warden was struggling to hold his own against his aunt. She was laughing as she danced around him, her hair pulled into a messy bun. Artham’s eyes shone with excitement as he concentrated on blocking her whirlwind of strikes.
“I’d say he’s doing very well at the moment,” Jru commented, pride in his tone. “Illia will have a match soon enough. And so will I.”
“Do you think so?”
Jru set his hand on Esben’s shoulder. “I do.”
The castle door opened and Nala stepped onto the lawn, her arms loaded down with baskets.
“Lunch!” She called.
The swords clattered into their sheaths, sketchbooks were shoved into pockets, and everyone caming running to join her.
“Are we having a picnic, Mama?” Esben asked, giving her a fleeting hug, before relieving her of one of the baskets.
“Yes, we are!” She kissed the top of his head. “We’ll have a picnic right here. How does that sound?”
Esben grinned. “It’s perfect!”
“Hey. Wake up.”
A new voice cut into the mix, and Esben felt someone shaking his shoulder.
The dream melted away.
Groaning, Esben sat up in bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes to see Artham standing next to him. “What time is it?”
“Morning. The council is meeting in a few minutes.”
“Before breakfast?”
“. . . You slept through breakfast, Es. But I saved you a honeymuffin, and you know the servants will let you snack on some sugarberries later.”
“Thanks.” Esben rolled out of bed, snatching the muffin from his brother. “I’ll meet you in the council room in a minute.”
. . . .
“My question,” Lord Tobias said quietly. “Is how on Aerwiar a Wanderer of the Woes snuck onto Annieran soil in the first place. The Hollows is one thing, but here on the Shining Isle? Such a thing has never happened before!”
“They have been growing bolder over the past few years,” Bonifer said flatly. “Is it too much to assume the man was merely mercenary? There may be no conspiracy here in the least.”
“When the entire royal family and the Keeper of the Hollows was targeted, I think we can safely assume that if the man was a mercenary, whoever hired him is planning for war,” Lord Tobias replied grimly.
“What do you suggest should be done?” Lord Reven’s face was twisted with fear. “Do you think we are truly in danger of war?”
“My question is this: who would want to attack Anniera anyway,” Lord Petrov said darkly. “And why?”
“I’m sure we’ve made enemies.” Esben took a deep breath. “I’m sure there are people who envy our power.”
“My prince, you are the heir of the Shining Isle,” Lord Tobias said gently. “It is you who will become king. What do you think should be done?”
Esben didn’t say anything for a long moment. Panic threatened to swallow him. How could he rule a kingdom? He was only thirteen! But this was what he’d been training for. The kingdom was his to guide and his to guard. He could only do his best.
“We should send someone to Yorsha Doon to investigate. Bonifer travels there regularly to oversee shipments. Send some spies with him. We need to trace this assassin. Strengthen the garrisons in the seaside towns, and for the time being, we should assign our available ships to patrol the waters around the Isle. That way they can check on those who want to visit Anniera and make sure they don’t mean any harm.”
There was an impressed pause, then Lord Tobias nodded appreciatively. “Any objections?” When no one spoke, Lord Tobias smiled wearily. “I shall see to it at once.”
He rose to his feet and bowed to Esben. “A wonderful plan, my prince. It will be an honor to serve you as my king.”
Esben swallowed. “I hope I will be worthy.”
Beneath the table, Artham reached out and grabbed his hand. When the rest of the council lords and Bonifer began to leave, the boys stood and left the room together.
Good job! but Bonifer….. 😡