Yuki tapped his pen repetitively on his wooden desk, resting his face on his fist. His father had assigned him to a meaningless stack of paperwork once again. It was yet another way that the king avoided Yuki’s plea to be involved in the political affairs of the kingdom. Yuki wondered if he was the only crown prince to receive such treatment but shifted his focus before the hooks of self-pity dug too deep.

“Successor,” Yuki said to himself, causing Albert to look up from across the study.

“Does Your Highness need something?” Albert asked.

With a shake of his head, Yuki’s pen resumed its rhythmic clacking—much to Albert’s chagrin. Yuki was the uncontested successor for the crown, and as such, it was customary for him to be included in all business regarding the kingdom, from economic to budgetary to international affairs.

Every confrontation with the king only resulted in greater hostility toward him. This spurred him to develop his own network of followers across Falworth, gaining intel from those loyal to him, be it palace staff or traveling merchants. This chain allowed him to learn more about the people and the problems across Falworth, but he still fell short of the first-hand involvement he had hungered for. Chief among this alliance was Albert.

“Most respectfully, Your Highness, I am confiscating this,” Albert swiftly removed the pen from Yuki’s grasp and heaved a great sigh of relief.

“What?” he looked up at Albert and the pen as if just realizing what had occurred. “Oh, apologies.”

Always one to find the fun, Albert expected him to kick up a good-natured fuss or swipe it back. Taking a step closer, Albert examined Yuki’s pale complexion. His signature sapphire eyes held no twinkle but were red from exhaustion.

No, this won’t do.

Albert pulled the heavy chair from the side of the room and sat down to investigate Yuki’s condition better. Without noticing it, Albert started rat-a-tat-tatting on the desk with the pen.

“Did you finish the report I asked of you?” Yuki stretched and shook his head like a puppy, then rested his head on his desk, closing his eyes for just a momentary rest.

“Indeed. I was hoping to fill in a gap or two first, but it’s mostly ready.” He shimmied his hand into his inner coat pocket and retrieved the report in question.

After they exchanged the paper, Yuki dismissed him for the rest of the day. After all, Albert had many things to accomplish in addition to being Yuki’s aid—most notably, gaining intel. Before turning to go, Albert paused in the doorway, looking at Yuki, who had held his report in one hand while supporting his head with the other.

As Yuki read the report, he felt another weight latch onto him.

What type of chaos would a gem shortage bring to the people of Falworth?

He felt as though he was an entertainer in a circus, carefully stacking his roles and responsibilities like books atop his head while walking along a narrow passage. He was always fixated on what was ahead while taking care not to lose his balance, lest it all come crashing down.

Most days, he wore his stack of burdens elegantly, like a magnificent crown. But Albert knew all too well that the weight was crippling, and he was sure his intel had only added to it.

Prince.

Son.

Brother.

Friend.

Philanthropist.

Advisor.

Warrior.

Peacemaker.

Each added their own weight atop his silver hair, but Albert knew that with a little polishing, Yuki would rise to find each facet shining like a gem in the crown that would one day be his.

But today, he could rest. Today, he could be free from the burdens—if only Albert knew how to help him. Perhaps all he could offer was a gesture.

“I’ll have some tea sent up for you,” Albert said from the door as Yuki refolded his report.

“You’re always so reliable, Albert,” he replied with a tinge of humor in his sapphire eyes. After Yuki thanked him, Albert nodded goodbye and shuffled out the door, his brow furrowed.

* * *

“For the last time, this is the current price of the gems you requested. Take it or kindly leave the Craftsman Guild,” the 30-something-year-old lady said dryly behind the oak counter.

Miss Rubelia was never one to be tread on, but this treatment – and the price – was beyond Emmy’s belief. Turrin tapped on Emmy’s shoulder and nodded toward the door. Before leaving, Emmy assured Rubelia of her return before Turrin all but dragged her outside.

Falworth wasn’t a large player among the surrounding nations due to its unimpressive size and history of neutrality. However, Falworth did have one boast that the many other kingdoms couldn’t claim—its wealth of natural gems.

This enabled Falworth to have a notable advantage in trade with gem-barren countries, providing the country with greater riches than the larger kingdoms. To preserve Falworth’s trade agreements, the people of Falworth were forbidden from selling the gems across the border.

In exchange, the citizens were allowed to purchase gems for a wholesale price. Artisans who belonged in the Craftsmen Guild were given an even larger reduction, in an effort to support the arts and commerce.

Emmy busted out of the guild in exasperation, suddenly walking quite fast yet going nowhere in particular.

“What the jumping biscuits was that all about?”

She frequently conducted business with Miss Rubelia. In fact, they had done business for years without any problems. While she was always brisque, she was rarely so blunt or unobliging.

“Well,” Turrin said hesitantly, “I doubt she enjoys telling the guild members about the hike in cost of goods.”

Pausing her huffing and puffing, Emmy ruminated on her brother’s words. If this was the reality she was facing, she wasn’t facing it alone. Jewelers, artisans, and merchants alike would all suffer.

“I suppose…”

“Don’t worry, sis,” Turrin placed his hand on her shoulder, deflating her puffed sleeve in the process. “I’m sure things will go back to normal soon.”

While inflation came to every kingdom, she rarely felt the pinch of it. Such an increase in cost would be too much for her small business to endure. Emmy pinched the bridge of her nose as she considered the repercussions of the price increase. If necessary, she could always resort to the normal dye and reduce her costs—but a dip in quality would be a blow to her pride and her reputation.

As if reading her thoughts, Turrin gave her arm a gentle squeeze, “You always produce such lovely things. I’m sure you’ll be alright no matter what happens.”

A warm smile rose to her face despite herself. Though the younger sibling, he was always the cool-headed and kind one between them. Shouldn’t she be the one to comfort him?

“But what about you? Has anything occurred since—uhh,” she trailed off, unsure how to bring up his recent probation.

“Since my sister took up the pen as a sword on my behalf?” he asked with an easy smile.

Emmy only laughed nervously in response. Her interaction with the Royal Commander left her feeling uneasy for days. As a self-proclaimed good judge of character, Emmy was baffled by her inability to figure him out. She tentatively lifted her head to look at Turrin.

“My probation is suspended for the time being.”

“It is?” Emmy nearly leaped for joy. “Wait, what do you mean ‘for the time being?’”

“He enlisted my aid to discover the architect behind the incident. Of course, he’s continuing his own investigations, but he seems to be less suspicious of me.”

“Good!” A beat of silence fell between them as they moseyed in the adjacent park.

Looking up at her brother, Emmy saw the concern in his eyes. While she was grateful for his change of heart, she was still far from satisfied with Theo’s response.

“Don’t worry. If the Royal Commander himself can’t discover the truth, he can hardly expect you to. Without evidence, he can’t convict you.”

Emmy ground her teeth as she recalled the indictment. Theo rushed to a ridiculous conclusion, and her brother had to suffer the consequences of it. But she played her card already. The logical choice was to let it play out and trust that the truth would surface… but she wasn’t going to let that stop her.

“Emmy?” Turrin drawled in a reproachful tone, watching the wheels in her mind turn. “No scheming. Please, let it be.”

“Why do you have to know me so well?” she asked, placing a hand on her hip.

If I told her that her face is an open book, she’d get mad at me, Turrin smiled.

“It’s because we’re related, dummy,” he said, opting for the safe answer.

He didn’t want to admit it, but Emmy was gifted with the power of persuasion and perseverance. Knowing she was on his side, Turrin’s shoulders suddenly felt lighter. Perhaps this mess will get sorted after all, he thought as they continued their stroll.

Emmy charged ahead, admiring the plants and flowers with enthusiasm, nearly forgetting her bitter disposition from moments before. No matter how hard he tried, she always managed to be two steps in front of him.

“Gracious me!” Emmy gasped, nearly scaring Turrin out of his skin. “I know how I can quickly get the money for more gems!”

Grinning at Turrin’s baffled expression, she explained, “The royal commission!”