For four days, Isiah watched over the Prince. It wasn’t the worst arrangement, but it wasn’t the one he’d expected to have. The Prince, for the most part, was kind and patient with him while he learned the ins and outs of the castle. Whenever they had a spare moment, Nerin would show him around and get him to guide them back the way they came.

Isiah had an awful memory, something he hadn’t learned until he arrived at the castle almost a week ago. He barely remembered anyone’s names unless he spent more than a few minutes with them. Directions were even worse, but slowly but surely, he was learning.

Four days in and he knew how to get from his rooms in the servants quarters to Nerin’s rooms to the classrooms, church, and dining hall. Sometimes he got lost, but he was getting better. Nerin didn’t seem to mind. Any extra time taken seemed to be good for him. From what Isiah had seen during prayer and dinners, the brothers hadn’t talked much.

He saw Princess Sharina sometimes, mostly when he took Nerin to pray at the church. She didn’t say a word to him, but sometimes she gave him a little smile. They hadn’t talked much on the way to Ishmar, but the company had still been nice.

Whenever he got the chance, Nerin would attempt to talk to Princess Sharina. Most of the time, he would get a few words in before Harudan came along with something for him to do. But there were times where they were able to have a decent conversation. Nerin almost seemed desperate to talk to her.

It reminded Isiah when he was Nerin’s age and he had felt infatuation for the first time. It had been one of the apprentice monks teaching him at the time. There’d been a male and a female and most of the boys had swooned over the woman, but Isiah had been different. He told no one about his feelings for the man, especially considering they were friends. He’d tried not to feel too heartbroken when he married someone else.

Watching Nerin talk to the Princess reminded him of that time. It had been easier then, despite his confusing feelings. He hadn’t had feelings for anyone since and had never really bothered with figuring out who exactly it was he tended to be attracted to.

While Nerin’s attempts at talking to the Princess were the most entertaining parts of his new job, there were some bad parts to it. The irritated looks he occasionally got from Harudan whenever Nerin arrived late or was caught sneaking around weren’t so bad. In fact, the worst part about his job was something he hadn’t expected to be upset about.

It was standing around while Nerin and the others prayed every morning and evening. It meant that he wasn’t able to pray except at midday and he had to ask permission from Nerin every time. And he had to stand around in a church of Gods he didn’t believe it. It felt wrong, as though he were an imposter. There was nothing he could about it unless he wanted to face the wrath of the King again.

The statues of Sol and Lune looked so much like the statues of his own Gods. Every time he saw them all he could think of was the conversation he had had with Nerin about the differences between their religions.

The Old Gods had been the first religion, the one that both Brenmar and Minisia had been built off. It felt wrong to forget them, but that was what people did. Something new came along and the thing they had believed in for so long was forgotten. With the new religion came a new language and the language of the Old Gods died. Only those who still believed learned the dead language.

Standing in the church of deities he didn’t believe in made him uncomfortable. Every single time he was there, he wanted to run, but he had to stay. The King made him stay. Nerin needed to be watched over, even during his silent prayers.

Whenever Isiah was alone, he thought back to the night King Harudan had told him to escort Prince Nerin. In his dreams, the King’s words ran around and around, repeating over and over. Isiah couldn’t figure out why.

“We will do what must be done,” the King had said. He’d been talking to Sir Jonin, who was a constant presence during prayers and meals. But Isiah couldn’t figure out what it meant.

The obvious answer was that it was about the treaty. There would be some people who would protest against it out of hatred for the Askari and Minisia. King Harudan would have to know that the treaty needed to go ahead, surely that had been what he was talking to Sir Jonin about.

But there was a part of him that doubted it. There was something about the anger in King Harudan’s face when he’d open the door, the rage in his voice and the glare in Sir Jonin’s eyes. There was something off and for the last four days, Isiah had been trying to figure out what it was.

He didn’t know what he was going to do if he did figure something out. There was no way he would be able to talk to Princess Sharina without someone like King Harudan or Nerin overhearing him. It would be treason, wouldn’t it? To spread rumours about the King to the Princess. Especially so close to the treaty.

He should just let it happen. It needed to happen. There should be peace. He wasn’t going to stand in the way of it just because of a gut feeling. It wouldn’t be worth it, not at all. He wasn’t going to jeopardise the treaty, his place at the palace and probably even his life for something meaningless, something he was just being paranoid about.

But it continued to run through his head during the nights and the few hours he spent down in the kitchens. As he cooked and cleaned, he debated the real meaning of the words. He wanted it to be about any protests the people might have, but he couldn’t push the doubt from his mind, no matter how hard he tried.

He dropped a stack of dirty plates in the washbasin with a frown. The other servants didn’t talk to him unless it was to give him orders. He kept to himself, for the most part, lost in his thoughts.

As he scrubbed the plates, his mind drifted back to his confrontation with the King again. Nerin had been there before him. He had been listening at the door. He’d told Isiah that he was curious, that he liked to sneak around. The big question was: how much of that meeting had the young Prince heard?

If anyone knew what had really been said in that meeting, it was Nerin. How hadn’t he figured it out earlier? Somehow, he’d forgotten how long Nerin had been there. And he hadn’t said anything to him about something being wrong, so maybe what he’d heard was about protests towards the treaty.

He would have to ask the Prince when he picked him up from his lessons. That was if Nerin even decided to tell him. He might not. He as a Prince, after all, he didn’t have to tell an apprentice monk anything if he didn’t want to.

Time crawled by at a snail’s pace. Isiah scrubbed plates and chopped food as the hands on the clock moved agonisingly slow. His eyes flicked to the clock every few seconds, waiting for the hours to pass so he could question Nerin.

He had to know that he was wrong. He needed to believe that the treaty would go ahead. The Mother had warned him that it might not go the way everyone expected. She had to be wrong. There would be peace, there needed to be peace. A war would ruin Vishera. And if he was wrong, it meant he wouldn’t have to do anything to stop it.

Eventually, the time came to pick up Nerin from his lessons. Isiah gave the cook a polite bow and bolted from the kitchens. He could feel the eyes of the servants and the cook on him as he ran, but he paid it no mind. Taking the stairs two at a time, Isiah was panting by the time he made it to the floor Nerin was on.

The Prince eyed him in concern when he pounded on the door. “Have you been running, Isiah?” he asked with a frown.

“I need-” Isiah broke out with a loud pant, suddenly realising what he had just done. He straightened and bowed. “Apologies, Nerin, I need to speak with you.”

Nerin opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, giving a sharp look to his tutor, who wasn’t paying any attention to them. “Come, we will go to my rooms,” he said and strode down the hall. “This had better be important.”

“I believe it is,” Isiah replied.

It didn’t take them long to reach Nerin’s room and when they did the boy ushered him inside quickly, shutting the door behind him. The room wasn’t as clean as Isiah had expected it to be. The boy had papers strewn about the room from his studies and books piled up on his desk. The only clean part was his bed, which he allowed the servants to make every morning. Isiah had learned quickly that they weren’t allowed to touch the rest of the room.

Nerin pulled out the chair from the desk and gestured for Isiah to sit. “We have plenty of time before I go to dinner,” he said as he sat on the edge of the four-poster bed. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

It was strange, having a conversation about such important matters with a child, but there was no one else he could go to. “The day I was meant to have a meeting with the King and I caught you outside his office, do you remember?” he asked.

“Of course,” Nerin replied, his hands clasped together in his lap.

Isiah took a deep breath. Anxiety swirled in his gut and he wrung his hands together nervously. “I heard the King and Sir Jonin talking. And- And it didn’t sound all that good. I remembered that you were listening in and I wanted to know what you heard.”

Nerin raised his eyebrows at him. “You want to know about the private conversations between the King and the head of his Guard?” he asked and let out a scoff.

“No- No! Well, yes! But I think something’s wrong. It just- It sounded like the King was going to do something he shouldn’t!” Isiah said defensively. He should have realised to problems with talking to Nerin about it. “I know he’s your brother, but I haven’t been able to get this out of my head for days. I just need to know everything… That the treaty is alright.”

Across from him, Nerin frowned and stared down at the floor. “I thought I was the only one who had heard them,” he whispered, his knee bouncing up and down. He looked as though he was in pain. “You can’t say a word of this to anyone.”

“You’re the only person I talk to.”

“That’s a little sad.”

“Nerin.”

The Prince sighed. “I don’t know if they were talking about the treaty. I got there too late, but it sounded like it was,” he said, not meeting Isiah’s gaze. “Sir Jonin was saying that it was dangerous, but Harudan kept trying to convince him that it was the right thing to do.”

“What was the right thing to do?” Isiah asked.

“I don’t know!” Nerin cried and ran a hand down his face. “I don’t know, but I’m really worried. I didn’t know what to do about it. But the treaty is being signed tomorrow afternoon.”

“That soon?”

The young Prince shrugged. “They were able to come to an agreement faster than expected, I think.” He leaned forward and cradled his head in his hands. “Sir Jonin agreed with him, but he was just worried about how it would end for them, whatever it was.”

Isiah stood and paced the length of the room. His hope had flown from the room the second Nerin had opened his mouth. Something was seriously wrong. The Mother’s warning had a big chance of being right. “So, what do we do?”

Nerin’s head shot up, his eyes wide with fear. “What do you mean, what do we do?” he exclaimed. “We can’t do anything! My brother is the King! Going against him is treason!”

Isiah rubbed his eye with the heel of his palms. “So what? There’s something wrong going on here! We need to warn Princess Sharina.”

“And tell her what? Isiah, we have no proof of anything. I can’t say for certain that my brother and Jonin were talking about the treaty. We could be warning Princess Sharina for nothing, throwing the treaty up in the air and jeopardising everything,” Nerin explained, cool and collected, sounding so much older than thirteen. “And for what? A hunch?”

“But…” There had to be something they could do. Isiah knew, they both knew, that it was about the treaty. Something bad was going to happen. He may be a pacifist, but that didn’t mean that he was going to sit around and let bad things happen. He wasn’t going to let Princess Sharina walk into danger when there was something he could do about it.

Even if Nerin decided not to do anything, he would somehow give her a warning. He could be wrong, that was always a possibility, but he wasn’t going to let her go into the treaty without at least trying to let her know that something was seriously wrong in Ishmar.

He would figure out some way to talk to her once he left Nerin. His duties would have to come first, but that didn’t mean he would neglect what he’d found out. It was all a matter of getting to the Princess without King Harudan or her guard catching onto him.

As he thought the words, Nerin sighed. “You’re going to say something to her anyway, aren’t you?” he asked and Isiah gave him a stern nod. “Then I suppose I have to help you. It will be hard to talk to her without Harudan getting in the way, but we can do something.

“We may not have proof, but we can still voice our suspicions. I honestly don’t think she’s going to listen to us even if we do get her alone, but we can at least say we tried. How does that sound?”

Isiah let out a sigh of relief and tried to ignore the terror in Nerin’s eyes. He was right. What they were doing was treason, but they had to at least try. “Thank you, Nerin.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t done anything,” he replied and stood from the bed. “I’ll try and get her alone today, but I believe she is busy with Harudan all day. If not, then we have all day tomorrow to get word to her. By sunset, it will be too late. Just make sure my brother does not find out about this. Do you understand?”

“Of course,” Isiah replied. Nerin might get away with it. But he would be killed if anyone discovered what they were doing. He quite liked his life so far.

“Well, come on then,” Nerin said with a sigh. “I have a lunch to attend and treason to commit.”