Someone had come into Alex’s room whilst he was taking his bath, lighting the lamps and turning down his bed. The heavy curtains across the two huge windows were now drawn closed and, according to the timepiece on the mantel, it was close to sunset.

Taking clean underwear and stockings from his pack, Alex noticed the obvious laundry basket in the corner of the closet and deposited his dirty clothing inside. It was, after all, reasonable to assume that there would be someone to do the laundry and it’d be nice to take advantage before the long journey begins.

Alex had barely finished dressing, standing to push into his boots, before there was a knock on the door and Peta was calling to him. “Alex, are you ready to come down for dinner?”

Taking the few steps across the room to open the door, Alex stepped back for a moment to grab a different ribbon from his pack, tying his hair back once again into a ponytail. With a quick glance at his sword, on the table beside the door, he decides to leave it behind with a grin. If he’s not safe here, then nowhere. “Yes, Peta. I’m good. Lead the way.”

“How are you finding your room,” Peta asks as they begin to walk slowly back towards the great staircase.

“I’m worried that I might get used to such luxuries.”

“Well, we don’t have such luxury in the guard’s quarters as you do here, but there is piped water and sanitation, even there.”

“I have heard of such things, but even the finest inns in Meribor or Eloria are lacking compared to this. It seems extravagant, even for a King’s castle.”

“As I understand it, it is one of the King’s personal projects. It was his original reason for asking Catheon to stay with him here in Taneria. I believe that the plan is to eventually have fresh water piped to every house in the city. The King is having a great dam built on the river, away in the mountains to the north-east, to provide enough water.”

“What about all the mechanical timekeepers?” Alex asks. “I’ve seen one or two before, they are a favourite talking point for the richest of merchants, but here there seems to be one in every room.”

“Again, the King. He has an interest in all manner of engineering – from the grand civil projects down to the finest mechanisms.”

“He is not quite what I was expecting.”

“The King? No, I think most people who meet him in person reach the same conclusion. He strives to appear strong for the country, but he is really a dedicated scholar and administrator, determined to keep the peace.”

They continue in silence, down the grand staircase and back into more familiar surroundings, in the direction of the drawing room where Alex waited earlier and spoke with the queen.

With the drapes closed and the elegant lamps lit, the room feels both more formal and more homely at the same time. Now, however, it is crowded as the royal family gather before dinner. Alex is delighted to see that everyone is dressed informally, even the King.

“Ah, Alex,” the King calls as they enter. “Welcome. Let me introduce you to the others.” The king is wearing a less formal tunic, still exquisitely made and has dispensed with his gold circlet. His appearance remains regal, however, his greying hair and perfectly trimmed beard lending a degree of gravitas that few can muster.

“My wife tells me that the two of you are already acquainted.”

“Yes, Sire. We spoke for a few moments earlier.” Alex turns to the queen and acknowledges her with a formal bow. “My Lady.”

“Right. That’s enough formality for the evening. We don’t do much of that once the sun sets,” The King tells him with mock solemnity.

“This is Damien, my elder son and his betrothed, Lady Tabitha. The wedding is planned for the autumn.” Damien is almost a physical copy of his father, features slightly softened by the beauty of his mother and his fewer years. Tabitha is short, slender and what can only be described as stunningly beautiful. Her blonde hair and piercing blue eyes are bright with happiness.

Alex nods to them both, but all are careful to allow the King to finish his introductions.

“This is Jamethon, my younger son and, finally, Catheon, the engineer. Everyone, this is Alexion Varga. He is to command our expedition to the west.” Jamethon is slightly shorter than his brother and clearly takes more after his mother. His features are finely drawn, yet relaxed and soft. He’s wearing his hair cut very short, leaving a slender and smooth neck visible that almost belies his solidly athletic frame. Whatever Alex found appealing in the servant earlier is magnified and multiplied here. Jamethon is gorgeous.

“Your exploits as a guard leader are well known,” Damien suggests after a moment, snapping Alex’s thoughts back to reality. “All know of your skill and your apparent honesty.”

“Thank you, Highness. My work may be disliked by many, but, until the whole world is at peace and the law is enforced across the kingdoms and states of the entire continent, my work is, sadly necessary. I risk my life for my employers and their goods and I think I’m right to expect to be paid for that risk.”

“Well, said!” the King cries. “Damien, there really isn’t any doubt about Alex’s honesty, so perhaps don’t try and suggest that there is?”

Damien looks suitably chagrined, but there’s clearly an underlying current running through the conversation that Alex isn’t party to. Politics is a difficult field to play in and he really doesn’t want any part of it. Throw in the fact that it’s inter-family politics and the desire to remain uninvolved is even stronger.

Luckily, the conversation is terminated by the arrival of a liveried servant who opens the double doors that directly lead into a large dining room. He announces that dinner is ready and, along with another servant, proceeds to seat all the guests, Alex included. He finds himself sat opposite Jamethon at the very end of the table, with Catheon beside him and Peta beside Jamethon.

Thankfully, Alex has eaten enough times with the rich to have at least some knowledge of formal dining and the necessary etiquette. Enough to know which fork to use, at least. The food is, as might be expected, excellent and the conversation much lighter.

“I understand that you’ve travelled widely, young man,” Catheon asks in a voice that is much softer than his large frame might suggest. “It has been many years since I came to Taneria. I’m sure the world is very different now.”

“Maybe. But possibly less changed than you might expect. You came from Eboria, I understand?”

“Indeed, I was born in Eridan. It seems so long ago now. I remember the towers of the city and the busy harbour, but little else. I left family and friends behind for a different life.”

“Well, the towers remain – indeed I understand there are more now than in your time there. The merchants and rich businessmen all seem to compete to build the tallest. The harbour is just as busy as it ever was. Probably because the roads beyond the influence of the country are terrible.”

“Now, that, I remember well. I was glad that I decided to travel on horseback. We saw people trying to go by carriage and it looked decidedly painful. I recall working on designs for better carriage springs along the way because of their discomfort.”

“Ever the engineer, Master.” Jamethon tells him with a smile. “He has taught me to see every problem as a test for a solution,” he tells Alex by way of explanation.

“Well, it was no better with wagons loaded with cargo. I’ve only been that far west twice. Many of the roads are absolutely terrible. Elsewhere, the state of them varies from country to country. Clearly some spend more on their transport than others. I suppose every ruler needs to have priorities.”

“It’s quite often a matter of necessity, Alex,” The King tells him. Alex had been unaware that their conversation was being listened to. “Eboria prioritizes their trade by sea, as that is where they make the most profit. The desolation of the desert to their east is somewhat of a barrier to overland trade. We, on the other hand, have no sea ports and no truly navigable rivers. Our roads are our lifelines and we must spend lavishly to maintain them.”

“I see, Sire. That you spend so much on your infrastructure is to be commended then. As we shall see, when we cross the border into Benteria, some think very differently.”

“Bad?” Jamethon asks.

“Terrible. And not just the state of the roads. It’s a seemingly hopeless place. I fear that the king spends on little beyond his own pleasures.”

“I’m not one to be seen to speak ill of my neighbours,” the King suggests quietly, “Yet, King Haran is a wastrel. I liked his late father well enough – at least he was honest, but the young man has no manners and no skill at administration. He has surrounded himself with sycophantic cronies and listens to nothing but their constant praise.”

“His attitude reflects in his people. They don’t appear to be happy, even to see merchants with goods to trade. There are far too many bandits for my liking, but we must travel that way. Perhaps the general disinterest of the population will extend to us.” Alex stops himself from ranting, lifting his glass of wine and sipping appreciatively.

“Don’t worry, Alex,” the King suggests. “I know only too well what Benteria is like these days. I’m sure you will understand that I have an extensive network of, shall we say information gatherers.”

“Of course, Sire.” Alex smiles in understanding. It would be a very unwise King indeed who didn’t have a few spies in the courts of his neighbours.

“Yet, Father, you send my brother into this danger?” Damien asks, his temper clearly rising as the conversation unfolds. He has been sitting and clearly getting more agitated as the conversation goes on. At least this time it is directed to protect his younger brother. Perhaps this is the undercurrent that Alex cannot see. Damien is worried for his little brother.

“I do what I must,” the King suggests.

“I can take care of myself,” Jamethon says loudly at the same time.

“No you can’t,” Damien responds, just as loudly. “I’ve seen you practicing the sword and the bow. You’re useless.”

Alex, opposite Jamethon is the first – or possibly the only one – to see the sudden, if almost imperceptible, orange-red glow in his eyes, a tightening of his brow and a tensing of his shoulders. “There is more to protecting oneself than physical weapons,” he mutters in a tone that sounds like a warning. “I can take care of myself.”

Glancing around, Alex can see that only he and the queen can feel the rising power that is emanating from the young prince. He’s always been aware of his ability to sense magic, but this is on a level of power that he has never felt before. Catheon is looking at his student with a worried expression, most likely because, although he cannot feel the build-up of power, he knows his young student and friend very well. He holds up a hand slightly in an attempt to suggest calm.

“That is enough, both of you!” the Queen tells them in a commanding tone. “I grow weary of this constant bickering.” This has an immediate effect. The sense of thickening in the air that Alex had felt so strongly vanishes, along with the glow in the eyes of Jamethon.

“Alex, please forgive my family,” the Queen says after a few moments of silence. “All families have disagreements, I’m sure. At the table, with guests, is not the place, however. I apologise on their behalf.” Alex turns to her at the head of the table and bows formally in acceptance.

“No, my lady, the fault is at least partly mine. I should not have spoken so casually of the dangers we might face. It is not a conversation for the table.”

“Well, said,” the King adds with some finality. “Still on the subject of the journey, what are your plans? I was hoping you could leave in just a couple of days from now. Do you think that will be possible, Alex?”

“I’ll need to go over the details of the arrangements with Captain Alta,” Alex nods in the direction of the captain who is sitting almost opposite him, but nearer to the King. “Perhaps in the morning?”

“Yes, Alex. I am at your disposal from now on,” Peta tells him.

“Good. I’d also like to take some time to speak with all of the members of the expedition. Peta and I will meet with the guards in the morning, although we already seem to have much in common, but if I could have an hour or so with the two of you in the afternoon tomorrow, that would be sufficient.” He looks from Catheon to Jamethon in turn, receiving barely perceptible nods from both of them.

“Anything else, Alex?” the King asks.

“No, Sire. If everything is in order, we can leave the next day.”