Ifan found King Ulthien quite fast, he was standing out amongst the noble guests with his royal apparel. He stood tall among the Elves, a strong aura emanating from him. The King seemed to be in some kind of heated argument with his uncle. Some royal officers and scholars were with them, taking part in it. His father turned his golden gaze towards Ifan as he saw him approaching the group. His father’s expression was unreadable in appearance, but Ifan knew he was hiding the scold to show on his face.

“Ah! Ifanthien. I think we need your advice on this matter.” Elodan said as he motioned his hand to invite him into their circle of discussion.

“How may I be of any help, uncle?” Ifan asked curiously, taking place next to his father.

“As you well know, we are at war with the Deadlands, but also with the Harsh,” His uncle began and Ifan replied with a slight nod. “Well, your father here thinks we should send more troops in The Harsh that are far away from our kingdom instead of in the Deadlands, located literally next to us.” He explained as he glared accusingly at his King. “Don’t you think we should protect our people instead of wasting our soldiers’ lives in a war that does not concern us in any way?”

“Eloden, do not involve him in this kind of grim subject,” Ulthien said, looking stern and not reacting to his younger brother’s remark.

“Now, now, your majesty. Wouldn’t you think it would be a good opportunity for you to see if he learned his lessons? Let’s see what he has to say.” His uncle retorted. “Besides, he will be king one day, you can’t keep him away from war matters indefinitely.” He added, grabbing a glass of dark purple wine as a servant passed by.

Ifan stayed quiet for a moment. He wasn’t well informed on the war matters. The Scholars barely taught him about the military and his knowledge of it was very restrained. His father would rather see him learn about economics and politics. Sometimes, he wondered if he was learning to be a King or a simple emissary. However, he found his uncle’s question interesting. Only him would allow Ifan to get involved in war matters while his father would toss it away saying he’s not yet ready for that. It was absurd, the Elf Prince might be in his early hundred years, he was not a child anymore. All he knew about the wars was what he had read in the many books of the castle’s library. Of course, the books weren’t as detailed and most of them only had long notes of battle reports. Still, he only knew roughly what was happening in the world.

As everyone was eagerly looking at him, waiting for his answer, Ifan took a sip of the grape and berry wine. He wanted to think a little more so he would have a proper answer to offer. After all, this had always been a delicate subject between his father and his uncle. “There is truth in what you say, uncle,” Ifan began as he noticed his father’s gaze narrowing at him. “Although we are not involved like you said with The Harsh, I still believe we should help the people.” This time, it was his uncle that threw narrow eyes at him. “The Emperor must be stopped before he gets too powerful.”

“You say before he gets too powerful, but you forgot about the Assassins, my nephew.” His uncle stated. “One of them is worth a hundred men alone.”

The Assassins. Ifan only read briefly about them. It was said they were redoubtable warriors, born and raised in war to become the perfect obedient weapon. It was also said that they were no ordinary living beings. Some passages in the books he read referred to them as monsters devoid of emotions that would kill for pleasure. They were almost impossible to kill let alone capture as they were magically gifted. Ifan vaguely heard rumors and scary stories about them, but since he never left the castle, he had so little information about the Assassins. He simply knew they were extremely dangerous and entire troops had been annihilated by a small handful of them. When he knew little about the Harsh in general, he knew way more about what was happening in the Deadlands since it was the territory right next to Sitrinn.

“Yet again, uncle, you are right.” Ifan agreed. “I have heard the Assassins were quite a threat. But the people of the Harsh do not deserve to suffer for the action of an unworthy ruler. If not to send troops to stop the Emperor, we should at least help those who cannot fight.” Ifan calmly said.

He heard his uncle let out a sharp Tsk as he swallowed the entirety of his glass. His father, on the other hand, seemed proud.

“However,” Ifan continued, which had all the faces staring at him again. “I also believe that we should focus most of our troops near the borders of the Deadlands. The safety of our people is as important as the lives in the Harsh. The Kahorns are as dangerous as the Assassins. They are redoubtable fighters; it is also said.” He stated. He saw a slight smile appearing on his uncle’s lips. “But I am no expert on war matters, and I will let our King decides on what the best course of action should be.” Ifan humbly added.  

The group of men gathered in a circle stayed silent for a moment. Were they judging him for what he had said? Was it the right thing to say? Ifan slightly grew anxious but did not let it show in any way. His father finally broke the silence. “My son speaks truly. The safety of our people is what matters the most. However, people of the Harsh are also people. They do not deserve to fend for themselves for something they are not responsible for.” The King calmly said.

“Sending more troops in the Harsh also means sending them to their death, Ulthien.” Eloden coldly retorted. “You are well aware that only a small group of Assassins can wipe an entire battalion of men. And even if we only focus on helping the people, the Assassins will still attack us because we are on the Emperor’s territory.” He then turned towards the Elf Prince. “Would you send the men that fight for you to their certain death?” his uncle asked him, a cold look was on his face.

The mood in the circle of conversation had drastically shifted. He could sense the unease of the other members of the group as they decided to let the royal family talk more privately and left, joining other groups scattered around the grand room.

"I..."Ifan was taken aback by his uncle's question. "I  would do what is necessary to help the people." he finally answered as his uncle stiffened. "This was forced onto them, they didn't choose this war."

“What about our people? What about their safety?” Eloden retorted, clearly irritated. “Our people are getting slaughtered near the borders of the Deadlands because we send most of our troops in the Harsh to die!” he almost yelled those last words. People that were standing around them went quiet before whispering lowly and dispersed farther away from the royal trio.

“Eloden.” The King firmly said. “I understand your concerns, my brother, I truly do. Do not believe I do not care about our people, about our soldiers. It pains me to see less come back than what left.” He said with sadness in his voice.

It was so rare to witness his father show emotions in public. Ifan truly felt his pain at that moment. But it didn’t seem to appease his uncle.

“The soldiers I send in the Deadlands are doing an excellent job and the Esterels are here to aid us in this battle.” He said more softly. “The Empire of the Harsh is a bigger threat for us and for all of the people of Mertenzie. The Emperor is gaining more and more power. If we ignore the problem now, it will soon become too late to deal with. We need to do our part in this war, because, sooner or later, the Emperor will be at our gates and I doubt he will spare our people.”

Eloden glared at his father, narrowing his eyes. Ifan had never seen his uncle like this. He knew they had heated arguments about the wars, but his uncle would always keep his composure and would never let this affect his mood too much. Now he wasn’t. Perhaps, he was tired from his journey. After all, he just came back from the Harsh and Ifan knew it was not easy to survive there.

“I give up,” Eloden said in a heavy sigh. “You are the King. You’ll do what you think is best.” He simply said. “But know, brother, that I don’t agree with it. Our people should be the top priority. Always.” His look was serious as he stared at his King.

“I always welcome your opinion, my brother, but my decision is made. and I will do as I can to help the Harsh as well as our people.” The King softly yet firmly said. “We shall send more troops to the Harsh. You will depart after the festivities.”

“So soon?” Eloden argued. “At least, give them some time to prepare and say what would surely be their final goodbyes to their families.” He retorted.

Ifan didn’t want the argument between them to rekindle. He spoke up before his father could say anything back. “Uncle is right, father. Give them at least a month. Besides, uncle just came back from the Harsh. He must be exhausted.” Ifan softly said.

His uncle stared at him but did not say a thing. He was clearly annoyed by all this and the Elf Prince understood him in a way. He was a soldier, the commander of the Soveryn’s army. He was expected to travel most of his time, but surely even his uncle would need some time to rest.

“You are right. I spoke without thinking.” The Elf King replied as he turned towards his brother and put a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Brother, I know I might be insisting on this. I do not mean to cause discord between us. Know that I am willing to talk more about this tomorrow, privately. The night will clear our minds and we shall talk away from curious ears. Your opinion does matter, even if I do not always show it.”

“I know, Ulthien.” Eloden replied calmly. “You better be ready, because I am certainly not done with that.” His uncle had recovered his usual warm attitude and grinned at his brother. “You should expect me at your chambers’ door very early tomorrow. I don’t care if you are asleep, I will barge in and we will talk.” He let out a hearty laugh before patting the King’s shoulder.

His father let out a small groan. “Please, don’t do that. I don’t mind, but I doubt I will be able to restrain Arinuien from beating the hell out of you.” His father let out a small chuckle.

Eloden shivered. “You’re right. Your Soulmate is a terrifying woman. Did she force you to love her? Did your markings glow out of fear?” Eloden teased him.

“I don’t think that’s possible, brother. Though, I’m sure she would certainly be able to!” Ulthien laughed as well and that had Ifan surprised by that. Laughing in public? He had never done such a thing. Ifan was amused to see his father like this.

His uncle shook his head in disbelief, still chuckling a bit. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I will take my leave now. I might be royalty, I’m still the commander of the guards and those idiots always need to be reminded what their job is.” he said out of tease towards them. “Ifanthien, what you said earlier was true. You have a kind heart. Maybe too kind.” His uncle gently said as his gaze seemed to be lost in thoughts. “Well then, enjoy the evening. My Prince, your Majesty,” Eloden bowed low before leaving the father and son alone with themselves.

The King and the Elf Prince watched as the commander of the royal guards walked away. Ulthien then looked back at Ifan, his joyful smile from not a moment ago had already turned back to his usual stern look.

“You did well earlier, Ifanthien. Your answers were better than what I expected from you. It was well said.” He proudly said to his son, a small smile could be seen re-appearing on his lips.

Ifan stayed quiet, looking baffled at his father’s words. “What is this? First, you laugh in public, and now you’re complimenting me? What got into you today?” he said teasingly as he arched one eyebrow.

The King cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ifan. I have emotions too, you know.” He retorted, seeming insulted and amused. “However, even if what you said was true,” his father was now serious. “I only send more troops in the Harsh because I know we can afford it. Since the Esterels are aiding us at the borders of the Deadlands, I can spare some soldiers to help the people of the Harsh. But know that I would not do it if I knew I couldn’t. As a King, you should always be prepared to make choices, and some of those choices will be hard to make.” He calmly explained to his son as they walked towards the buffet.

“… I understand.” Ifan replied softly.

“You have to, Ifanthien. One day, you will be King, and one day, you will have to make those hard decisions.” His father added as he stared at him seriously. “Your people are what matters the most. You will be King, and they will all rely on you to protect them.”

“Yes, father, I do understand,” Ifan answered firmly this time.

He knew his father was only making sure he was well prepared to be King, but he also made him feel like a child. He understood what being the ruler of an entire kingdom was. It will not always go as he will intend it to be, and Ifan was already aware of that. His father had been training him since he was ten years old.

“By the way young man, don’t believe I forgot your misbehavior of today.” His father suddenly said as he paced in front of the fruits laying on the table and picked up some berries. Ifan stiffened. He would be lying if he said he had not forgotten about it. “You were late, and you made the guests and Lady Laeria wait. To top it all, you weren’t late because you were studying, but playing around the castle.” His father scolded him, his golden glare piercing through him.

“I’m sorry, father…” Ifan said, lowering his head, pouting as he played with his glass.

The King let out a small sigh as he ate one of the berries he had taken. “… But you are still young, my son.” His father said in a long breath. ”So, only for tonight, I will forgive your misconduct. Enjoy the party.” He added with a warm smile. “And try to not tease Kolthen too much. The last thing I want is this little monster running around the ballroom causing havoc with the guests.” He warned Ifan.

“Of course, father. I will do my best not to awaken the wrath of my beloved little brother.” Ifan humbly said as he faked an angelic face. The King narrowed his golden glare at him. Ifan chuckled lightly. “I won’t, I promise.”

“You better.” His father warned as he ate another berry and then grabbed a glass of white wine. “Now go enjoy the night. I bet Ilithya is waiting for her first dance.” He smiled.

Ifan joyfully smiled back at his father as he bowed his head down. His father left to join the Queen that was chatting with a group of noble Elves. The Elf Prince then put down his glass of wine on the buffet table and proceeded to go find his little sister that was waiting for him to dance. He will have some fun tonight. After all, he had his father’s permission to do so, so he will enjoy it plenty.