The Hidden Prince

“YOU'RE DEAD AGAIN.”

James pulled the blow at the last second; his practice sword tapped my neck, while mine sailed in a breath too late to save my life. I knocked his blade out of the way, and we reset.

“You seem to have the duties of a bodyguard all mixed up.” I struck first this time, aiming for his head. He parried and slashed, forcing me to sidestep out of his reach. We filled the practice room with the clack of metal on metal, both of us waiting for the other to drop his guard and leave an opening to exploit. “At the rate you're killing me, I don't know how anyone will be persuaded to give you the
very
important job of guarding my life.”

“I should think,” James huffed, “you'd want an accomplished swordsman as your bodyguard. He
should
be better than you.”

“You're not better—”

James killed me again, this time gutting me. The blunt tip of his blade dragged at my shirt. “I'll say something nice at your memorial.”

“You are the worst friend I've ever had.” I swiped my forearm over my face, mopping sweat. Damp hair clung to my scalp. Even this early in the morning, summer's heat and humidity flooded my family's practice quarters. By the door and along the mirrored wall, my guards stood at attention, uncomfortable but unmoving.

“I'm your only friend.” James lifted his sword again. The blade flashed silver in one of the giant mirrors.

“That isn't true.” It was a little true. While there were certainly many benefits to being the heir to the Indigo Kingdom, having a large circle of close and trusted friends wasn't one of them.

I readied my sword again and attacked. He blocked, and we traded blow after blow, neither of us lowering our guard. I pressed forward, feinted an attack to his groin, and sliced at his flank instead. The dull edge of my blade cut across his side, harmless but to his pride.

James growled and let his sword swing toward the ground. “Cut in half! Is there any more humiliating way to die?”

“I'm certain there are a hundred.” With a grin, I sheathed my sword just as the Hawksbill clock tower chimed eight. “Time for breakfast. Want to join me?”

He shook his head. “It's with the Chuter family this morning, right? I'm afraid I'm busy preparing for the party this evening.”

“That's eleven hours from now.”

“Yes, well, I hear the crown prince is very spoiled and makes
ridiculous demands of his party hosts.”

I whapped him with my sheathed sword as we strode toward the door, my guards moving into position behind us. “Speaking of how spoiled I am, I'm going to make ridiculous demands of Father today.”

“Make demands? About attending the Academy? That's big talk.” James shot a sideways glance and smirk. “Seems more likely you'll start with begging and escalate to cowering.”

“Cowering?” I pressed my hand to my chest. “You wound me. I'm the crown prince of the Indigo Kingdom! I do not cower.”

“Remind me of the last time you left the Hawksbill district.”

“Being sheltered isn't the same as cowering. One is forced upon me. The other would be a choice.”

“Fine. Remind me of the last time you
tried
to leave Hawksbill.”

“I—” I couldn't remember the last time I'd asked Father's permission to go anywhere. And then there was the fact that at sixteen years old, I was
asking
to go places.

James had a point. Skyvale was a huge city—the capital of the Indigo Kingdom—and I hadn't set foot beyond the walled-off district for the local nobility in . . . years, probably.

We stepped outside and he said, “That's what I thought. Don't get your hopes up.”

“The school is in Hawksbill.” I straightened my back, like I was facing Father right now. “If he feels it's unsafe, then everywhere else in Hawksbill and the King's Seat is unsafe, too. Including the palace.” I glanced at my home, a huge structure rising in the north. Its front face was stern and regal, covered with balconies. Lights flicked on in a few rooms. Mirrors on the
western faces gleamed darkly with morning at their backs.

James wiped away a trickle of sweat. “Just don't give King Terrell ideas about locking you away in a tower without doors.”

I shuddered. With the Indigo Order Cadet trials next week, hopefully my bodyguard situation would begin to change for the better.

“Well, good luck.” James's tone left no question as to what he expected my father's response to be. “And now I must be off. You have a breakfast. I have a party.”

“When you're my bodyguard, you won't be able to avoid boring social calls so easily. You should consider building up a tolerance for them.”

“I already have. There's this prince, you see—” He let out an
oof
when I whapped him again. “Well! Someone is bitter about losing ninety percent of today's fights.”

“You'd better watch yourself tomorrow morning. I won't go easy on you anymore.”

James laughed and lifted a hand. “See you later, Tobiah.” He turned down the main avenue of Hawksbill, leaving me alone with my well-armed shadows. In spite of the deadly fire at his house a couple of weeks ago, James didn't have guards. He didn't need them.

I didn't need them, either.

A vague sense of loneliness chased me up the grand staircase toward the palace, but I shook it off. I'd never indulged it before, and I wouldn't start now. Instead, I let today's schedule run in the back of my mind. Breakfast with the Chuter family—ugh, but they were wealthy and Father insisted—lessons on history and government and official documentation, and lunch. After
that, I was being granted some rare free time because, in honor of my sixteenth birthday, Father had canceled afternoon court.

That was the excuse, anyway. The truth was that everyone would be busy preparing for the ball, so there wasn't a point.

The ball would run late, eating through my evening practice with James, and in the morning I'd get up and do it all over again. Only, tomorrow would have more lessons as well as afternoon court, and more engagements with palace society.

I climbed the last two steps and paused.

“Your Highness?” My guard Geoff checked the area for a threat, but of course there was nothing. Just a fountain spraying nearby, a cool mist wafting over the front gardens, and nobility walking and gossiping; a few offered birthday wishes as they noticed my presence. I smiled and thanked them.

They passed by quickly, busy with their own schedules, though I did hear one remark to another, “What a nice boy that prince is.” I turned from the palace, taking in the spread of Hawksbill before me.

Elegant mansions rose between the meticulously maintained trees. Mirrors shimmered on the rooftops. Maids and footmen crowded the winding streets between homes, and delivery carts trundled over the cobblestones.

The clock tower loomed in the center of Hawksbill, while in the east, the spires of the Cathedral of the Solemn Hour pierced the deep blue sky. In the west, there was only a hint of the white rooftop of the Bome Boys' Academy. Most boys I knew studied there, stayed in the dorms—at least some of the time—and learned how to rule their lands from the finest teachers in the Indigo Kingdom.

A privilege that had always been denied to me, no matter how spoiled anyone claimed I was.

This was my world. This space. From the Hawksbill wall to the palace, this was the area in which I existed.

Beyond the wall, there was the rest of Skyvale, and hundreds of thousands of people. There were refugee camps and forests and mountains and other cities and other kingdoms. There was wraith and hunger and hope, an entire world just begging to be explored.

But if my father had his way, I'd never stretch my legs away from the King's Seat and Hawksbill, these two small districts of the city where he felt I was safe. But not safe enough to go to school without my countless guards.

Geoff cleared his throat. “Your Highness? You'll be late for breakfast.”

“Right. Thank you.” I turned on my heel and strode toward the palace. There was no sense in wishing for something I'd never have.

BREAKFAST WAS AWKWARD.

“Sit up straight, Chey.” Lady Ebony Chuter's attempt to whisper was more like an angry hiss. She was a sharp, narrow woman, with one dominating facial expression: disapproval. “And don't slurp your tea.”

Chey was a softer version of her mother, though her brown hair was pulled up in an equally severe bun that tugged at her skin. She winced and nodded, but she couldn't draw herself up any straighter, and I hadn't heard even a hint of noise when she sipped the hot, spicy tea, though as she lowered the cup, the porcelain rattled against the saucer.

Lady Ebony looked like she wanted to murder her daughter.

I wanted to speak up that Chey was fifteen and didn't need to be treated like a child anymore, but that would just make the situation worse. Chey would have to find her own spine.

Meanwhile, her older siblings were in even sorrier condition.
Her older brother Sean was snoring in his seat at the far end of the table, a patchy beard covering his chin. His clothes stretched tight with every deep inhale. Then there was Gail, who muttered to the cat curled on her lap. “It's all right,” she cooed, and tucked a ringlet of dark hair behind her ear. “Mother's not snapping at
you
.”

I'd been wrong about breakfast being dull. The family was only getting started.

“What do you know about hunting hounds, Your Highness?” Count Louis Chuter ignored his family, leaning closer to me as though we shared a secret. His face was dark from time in the sun, and though his beard and mustache were well kept, they looked at odds with the rest of his rough—for a noble—exterior. Clearly his wife was trying, and failing, to keep him looking his rank. “I've been dying to talk to you about hunting hounds.”

“He doesn't want to hear about hounds, Louis.” Clint Chuter, a captain in the Indigo Order, attempted to wave off his brother's topic, but it was too late.

“Nonsense. Every boy is interested in hunting hounds.” Louis turned back to me. “I'm expecting a litter of puppies soon. Pointers. They're going to be quite the noses. With a pedigree like theirs, I really should spend more time breeding and training. It's a shame I've so many responsibilities in Two Rivers City.”

“Ah, the burden of a noble title.” Mine was a sarcastic comment, but Louis didn't notice.

“Indeed. Responsible for so many. It's as though no one else could possibly make decisions without my presence. I have no idea how they cope when I'm gone.” He shook his head sadly.
On the other side of him, Clint made a face somewhere between disgust and amusement.

“How
are
your holdings in Two Rivers City? I'd love to hear about your home there.” Or anything that wasn't chasing down the local wildlife, really. But if I couldn't go to the city, then hearing about it—even from him—was the next best thing.

“Oh, you know. The city is the same as ever.”

“Still in the fork between two rivers, huh?” That was a terrible quip. I wished I could punch myself. Even Clint winced.

Louis gave a loud chuckle. “Indeed, Your Highness. It still sits where the North and South Bow Rivers merge into one, as always. The odor of fish is delightful.”

Oh, he did know sarcasm. That was something.

“Don't tell him about the disgusting parts of the city.” Chey placed her cup on its saucer, but her hand trembled under her mother's close scrutiny, making tea slosh over the rim. Her jaw clenched at Ebony's sharp glare, but her voice was steady when she spoke again. “Two Rivers has grown so much over the last decade. Much of the ground won't support taller buildings, so growth must spread outward, even if that means building right onto the rivers. Everything in the water district is bright and cheerful, even if the houses and shops tend to sway with the current. The buildings are painted every color, and the wind in the area means the flags and banners are constantly flying.”

I smiled. “That sounds beautiful.”

Chey nodded and ducked her face. “If you decide to come and visit, I'd be happy to show you the sights.”

Lady Chuter shot a stern frown Chey's way. A muffled
thump
under the table hinted that
someone
was displeased with
the level of forwardness in that invitation.

“I'd like that.” As if I'd ever be permitted to leave Hawksbill, let alone Skyvale. Regardless, the affirmation made Lady Ebony glow with satisfaction. Chey relaxed a little. “I don't suppose you've heard from your friend in Liadia, my lady?”

Her face fell. “I have not. The last letter I received from her was two months ago. I've written back several times, hoping, but there's been no reply.” Her voice cracked with anguish, shooting guilt straight into me. “Perhaps the west is not as well as we all hoped.”

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked.” Liadia was under martial law, thanks to the wraith approaching its western border. Wraith Alliance reports indicated the Liadian king had found a way to block the wraith from entering the kingdom—that trials had gone well—but there was no word on whether it was truly holding up against the toxic cloud and wraith beasts.

“There's no reason to be sorry, Your Highness.” Chey glanced at her mother and added, “I'm pleased you remembered.”

“That's enough dreary talk for now.” Louis reached across the table for the sugar bowl. “You wouldn't happen to be looking for a reliable pointer, would you, Your Highness?”

Lady Chuter and Chey winced. Clint closed his eyes in undisguised frustration. Sean continued snoring at his end of the table, while Gail whispered to the sleeping cat that no dogs were allowed here.

Not for the first time, I wished James and I could switch places. He wouldn't like this either, but he'd be so much better at taking this all in stride. “The moment I wish to purchase a
hound,” I said, “I shall call on you.”

Louis's eyes lit and he turned to Clint. “What sort of attributes in a hound do you think would be appropriate for His Highness? It'd be his first. . . .”

Clint pushed his plate forward and groaned. “I think His Highness would be more interested in a companion animal. The Pierce family has never been much for hunting.”

“What's the point in a
companion
animal?” Lord Chuter gestured toward his daughter and her cat. “A good hound can sniff out wraith beasts, even shine—”

“That may be true, but what are your pointers going to do against the Nightmare gang? Or those who manufacture and sell shine?” Clint rolled his eyes, offering me a look like we were united in this strange conversation.

“Glowmen are becoming more and more common in the Flags.” Lord Chuter inclined his head toward Sean, who was still sleeping. “My son is making a study of the effect of shine on the human body. He has pages and pages of observations.”

“That sounds very impressive,” I said.

Lord Chuter smiled proudly, but kept his tone serious. “Something must be done about shine. It might as well be my dogs that help make the breakthrough, and if I happen to make another fortune thanks to the demand—well.”

“That's quite the selfish way to look at the problem.” Chey glanced up from a speared strawberry. “Father, lives are being lost to this, and you're thinking about the family treasury. How embarrassing.” Her gaze flitted to me, and then back to her plate.

“Hush, Chey. This isn't a discussion for you.” Lady Chuter
scowled and motioned for her younger daughter to sit up straight.

“With that new variation of shine on the streets, it's more important than ever to think about alternative ways of halting the problem before it grows worse. The Flags are tearing themselves apart. Unfortunately, policing the city isn't free. We train the officers who patrol the streets; they're paid, as are their commanders. Like it or not, protection of the kingdom is a business, as is everything else.” He turned back to me. “If you want to speak to your father about the possibility of training dogs for shine raids, I'm more than willing to discuss it. I'll soon be testing a few of the better noses in Two Rivers City. . . .”

For a heartbeat, I wished someone would save me from this. Louis and Ebony were unforgivably rude to Chey, but they were also among the most elite of Indigo Kingdom nobility. As much as it pained me to ignore their attitude toward Chey, I couldn't speak my mind without risking my own father's ire. Besides, training hounds to hunt shine wasn't a
terrible
idea, only his attitude about it.

“As you've said, this is a business transaction. I'm sure my father will want to hear your ideas, but not until you've proven the worth of your dogs in our efforts against shine.” From the corner of my eye, I caught Chey's faint smile. “Please do test them in Two Rivers. It is, after all, your city to manage, burden though it is.”

Lord Chuter only nodded, and his eldest two offspring went on with their oblivious activities, but Clint and Ebony caught my tone. One smirked. One frowned. Meanwhile, Chey sat there, miserably enduring her mother's pokes and prods, but even the most patient of creatures would eventually strike back.

The chime of the clock tower signaled the end of breakfast, rescuing me from the Chuter family and their charms.