“Please, Elantro!” I begged my cousin and future King, giving him the biggest set of puppy dog eyes I could muster.

After saying goodbye to Vargas, I’d immediately requested an audience. I was fairly certain that he knew what I wanted before I told him, given that he was the source of the decree. Naturally, he forbade me from volunteering.

Then again, he'd also forbidden me from joining the knights going to train, and we all know how that turned out. I didn't give up then, and I wasn't going to give up now.

After nearly a full movement of pleading my case, I could see it; his resolve was wavering. It was only a matter of time before he gave in. Elantro always gave in to my whims.

“Evan, it’s not that simple,” he insisted with a sigh. “It’s not that I don’t want to let you go. I truly wish I could give you the freedom you're asking for. But, whether you like it or not, you’re still a mentionable relation of the King.”

My face twisted into an ugly expression when he said that. I hated those words: Mentionable relation. No matter how I thought about it, they were the root of all my problems.

It wasn’t the term itself that bothered me. A mentionable relation was someone you were related to within three generations. Usually, it was just the marker for who you could and couldn’t couple with. The problem for me was the rest of his statement. The “of the King” part. That was the part that made things really unbearable.

Because I was the mentionable relation of a King who begot another King, I was considered valuable breeding stock. In other words, someone who was more likely to produce the next King.

“That’s the problem!” I exploded, my frustration overflowing at the mere mention of that stupid term, “I don’t want to be! My only value here is my ability to breed your heir. Even after joining the Palace knights, I couldn’t escape it. I want more, Elantro, more than what being a Royal can offer me. I want to be a person. I want to see the world outside this Gods forsaken golden city. I’m sick of being limited by my birth, and I’m tired of being treated like Gods damned livestock!”

Now, perhaps shouting at one’s future King might sound like a foolish move, but Elantro didn’t expect me to treat him like the future King when we were in private. In truth, we were barely mentionable relations, second cousins once removed, but despite that, Elantro had always been like a brother and a father all rolled into one. He genuinely cared about me, and even if I didn’t tell him everything, he knew enough to understand just how badly I wanted out.

I took a deep breath and continued in a calm voice, “I’m barely mentionable, really, and I’m clearly not all that fertile, considering how many women I’ve failed to impregnate. As breeding stock, I'm a total failure. There’s no reason to keep me here. Plus, don’t you think Marquis Julien should have someone he’s comfortable with by his side? He’s been through enough already and I doubt he’d accept a stranger.”

Elantro was silent for a moment. I took his silence as a good sign. At least he was considering it.

“He probably won't accept you either," he said at last, "Even if I'm willing to risk the King's wrath and allow this, there’s no guarantee that the Marquis won’t refuse the gesture entirely. In fact, I expect him to. This entire conversation is likely in vain.”

“He’ll accept,” I stated with certainty, “If it’s me, he will. I’m certain of it. It might take some convincing, but he won’t say no.”

I didn't think Elantro was wrong in his assessment of Marquis Julien. Vargas had expressed almost the exact same thing, that he would have no interest in taking on a Palace knight.

However, I’d seen how the Marquis looked at my Royal kin when we were out in the city, how he’d looked at me, sitting among them. Vargas had also said that if it was me, he might consider it. He’d likely only accept me out of pity, but I wasn’t nearly proud enough to not take advantage of that.

“I don’t know how you are so certain of that, but…” Elantro sighed, “Dammit Evan, how do you always manage to do this? My father will have my head for agreeing to this.”

With those words, I knew I’d won. A wide grin spread across my face.

“Thank you, Elantro!” I cried, jumping on my future King to give him a bone crushing hug.

Once I’d released him from my embrace, Elantro sighed in resignation and added, “The former Marquis prefers to be addressed as Falyn, by the way. Just Falyn. He doesn’t appreciate being called Julien.”

“Julien, Falyn, my Lord and savior. I’ll call him whatever he wants if he’ll get me out of this city,” I informed my cousin with a joyful laugh.

In a worst case scenario, should the former Marquis decline, maybe I could ask Vargas to say something on my behalf. But somehow, I had a feeling that wouldn't be necessary. I was becoming more and more confident that Falyn would realize I had no intention of actually guarding him.

As the realization that I might actually be free washed over me, my thoughts drifted to Carsyn. As I recalled our conversation, a wave of self-reproach came crashing down on me. I would be free, but neither she nor Sera would be. Now that I was aware of their situation, I felt like I was abandoning them.

They weren’t my responsibility, not really, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty for leaving them behind when they'd asked for my help. I didn’t feel bad for most of my kin, who found fulfillment in their Gods given roles, but my heart felt uncomfortable when I thought of what Carsyn and Sera's futures would entail; secrets, hiding, and the constant fear of being discovered. Being forced to accept men they didn't want. Seeing the one they loved wedded to another. It was a heartbreaking future for both. 

There was no way to take them with me, that much I knew. Women were less valued than men, but they were still too valuable to simply let go. As I wondered if there was anything I could do, an idea formed in my mind.

“Elantro, I have one more favor to ask you,” I impulsively added, realizing that there actually was something I could do, “It’s not a favor for me, but I think it would benefit all parties involved.”

“And what is that?” Elantro asked with a raised eyebrow, clearly curious about what else I might want from him.

“If I recall correctly, His Majesty, the King, has been adamant about you creating a harem? Well, I happen to know two young ladies who would love to join the harem of someone who doesn’t actually want a harem…”