Father

  was more irritated and short tempered today than usual, which was

  often hard to top. He had barely made it through to breakfast being

  served without someone being sent to the dungeons. He had appeared in

  the door, dressed, but eyes shot with a lack of sleep, the circles

  beneath his eyes darker than ever.

  He

  had always looked like an old man in my eyes, but since mother's

  death he had seemed to age weeks to everyone else's days. He had

  perked up a bit with the arrangement for a new bride, but the

  troubles related to her arrival had set him back into bouts of anger

  and frustration that lead him to look older than ever. He hadn't told

  me exactly what the troubles were, but apparently the woman must have

  had a change of heart as she was supposed to have arrived over a

  month ago.

  "Florin,"

  my father grumbled, "do you have combat training today?"

  He

  had been moodily clanking his dish and slamming his cup around all

  breakfast like he had wanted to yell at someone but no one had given

  him a proper reason to yet.

  "Yes

  father," I answered.

  He

  had taken a keen interest in my training lately, particularly when it

  came to combat. It seemed absurd given that my future was as the

  king, not some lowly soldier to be sent to the slaughter. Kings were

  not expected to be on the battle lines with the fodder, that was an

  old practice long relegated to history. Times were much more

  civilized and monarchs valued for their wisdom and guidance, not

  their swordplay.

  He

  gave a grunt and returned his attention to scowling at his plate.

  "Good, it will be useful in the future."

  I

  sorely wanted to ask him why, but it was foolish to prod a grumpy

  bear. If he wanted me to know, he would continue explaining only when

  he was ready. Otherwise, I knew the wisest course of action was to

  only speak to him when spoken to. Many of the servants seemed to have

  learned the same skill, everyone generally left him be unless there

  was something important that he needed to tend to. Even then,

  everyone was sure to tread very lightly.

  "I

  will be leaving later today," he said suddenly, slamming his cup

  once again on the table, "I will not be back for at least a few

  days." A scowl grew on his lips and he looked at me sternly. "I

  want to hear that you've been studious and attentive to your teachers

  while I'm gone."

  I

  nodded in understanding, confused about what connection him leaving

  for business had anything to do with my studies or training. I highly

  doubted that what he was going to do had much to do with me, I was no

  where near ready to take the throne yet, I was barely coming into

  age, yet to even get a whisper of coarse hair on my chin.

  With

  another grunt that I assumed was meant to be a farewell, father stood

  and marched out of the room, servants scurrying behind him to clean

  up his dishes and attend to his needs. My nursemaid appeared in the

  doorway, lips drawn tight, deep in thought. She had always doted on

  me, and often sought me out to ensure I was well and had all that I

  desired.

  My

  mother and her had always seemed to have a tense relationship with

  the maid acting more as the mother in many instances, her being the

  one I would run to when injured or upset. It wasn't that my mother

  was cold or unfriendly, she just always seemed sad when I came into

  view, a smile diminishing or laughter cut off prematurely. It left me

  wondering and asking why, but mother would just gently reach out and

  pat my shoulder, telling me that what was wrong was no fault of my

  own, then she would lapse into a long, sad silence.

  "Florin,

  my child," the nursemaid said in her matronly voice, "It is

  time to get you ready for the day, your father wants you to take your

  studies and training seriously."

  "I

  know," I said, rising from the table.

  "Then

  you should already be hustling. Come, let me run a comb through your

  hair, it is still all a mess."

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  I

  complied, standing dutifully before her as she pulled a bone comb

  from the many pockets in her dress and carefully pulling it through

  my shoulder length locks. With her own children she was rough and

  unapologetic, but with me she was gentle and took the time to

  painstakingly untangle each knot before pulling the teeth through.

  The difference always put a smile on my face, reminded me just how

  important to the kingdom I was.

  "Where

  is father going?" I asked.

  She

  was silent a long moment. It was strange for her, usually she was

  more than happy to engage in rapid fire conversation. It was typical

  for her to talk for hours on end if there was nothing to interrupt

  her.

  "I

  am not sure it is my place if he has not already told you," she

  answered.

  "Your

  place is to serve me and my father, is it not?" I questioned. I

  tried to keep my tone fairly light, I did not particularly like

  enforcing my power at every turn like father, but it was important

  for her to remember where her loyalties lay. "I believe that

  means you cannot have secrets from me when I ask for information."

  "Of

  course," she said, stammering slightly. I didn't have to turn

  around and look to know that her face had reddened. "He is off

  to collect his betrothed now that he knows where she is being kept."

  I

  raised my eyebrows in surprise, I hadn't known her location had been

  a mystery. It had been talked about like it was a political or

  personal disagreement, not a kidnapping.

  "Somebody

  had been holding her?" I questioned.

  "Yes,"

  she said, then went quiet.

  Her

  obvious reluctance to say anymore began to grate on my nerves. I was

  not some ignorant child, I could easily tell when she was withholding

  information. I let out a grumbling sigh and the comb stopped, then

  she let out a short sigh of her own.

  "The

  princess is being held by your aunt." It sounded like she had to

  spit out the last word to force it between her lips. "A nasty

  woman. Your mother was the only respectable member of her family."

  I

  turned around in surprise. "You know about my mother's family?"

  The maid had always acted ignorant of my lineage from my mother,

  quick to change subject and claim she didn't know. Mother had always

  been tight lipped on the matter as well, prone to silence and staring

  off into the distance when asked about it.

  "A

  bit," she admitted, her face showing she had been finally

  caught. "Nothing you should concern yourself with though, they

  are a nasty bunch."

  "They

  are still my blood and I deserve to know," I argued, raising my

  chin into a regal pose.

  "I

  suppose so," she sighed. "I can tell you what you want to

  know after your training today."

  "No,

  now," I commanded. It was the voice I used when I wanted no

  argument, only respect for my power.

  Flustered,

  she took a seat at the table and let out a long, pained sigh. "Your

  mother came from..." She trailed off and looked at me seriously,

  worry in her eyes. "... a dark family." She looked to me

  expectantly, but I did not flinch and motioned with my hand for her

  to continue. "They are called the House Yser, and they fancy

  themselves some kind of dark witches."

  "Witches?"

  I echoed. "They surely then are just mad. Witchcraft is only

  believed by foolish peasants with too much time on their hands."

  "I

  do not believe it at all my child," she said quickly, "but

  it is what they say. I saw your nasty aunt threaten your mother with

  her evil powers."

  "Here,

  in the castle?"

  "Yes,

  we were sitting right here the morning after you were born." The

  nursemaid's teeth clamped together like she regretted the words

  escaping her mouth, but she was too caught now not to continue. "She

  had heard that your mother was having a child."

  "You

  make it sound like she was not there to congratulate."

  "No,

  she was not." She licked her lips and leaned in close to me. "I

  beg you not to tell your father that I have told you this next part."

  There was a pause where she waited for me to agree, but she found no

  agreement and begrudgingly continued. "Your aunt was there to

  take your sister with her."

  My

  brow furrowed in confusion. I couldn't have possibly have heard

  correctly, I had never heard of any siblings, always having been told

  I was the only child.

  "Your

  father thought it best that you never know," she sighed. "It

  is probably all for the best really, she was an ill-tempered and

  spoiled little girl. Had it in her head that she still deserved to be

  heir even though you were born a prince. Perhaps it is all for the

  better that she was taken by that aunt so that you could be raised

  and doted on without a dark, angry cloud floating around you."

  "I

  have a sister." My lips felt dry and my head spun. I was the

  heir to the kingdom and yet people had been keeping secrets from me

  my entire life. I understood that my father had the final say as

  king, but surely something as important as my own kin should be in my

  rights to know.

  "What

  was her name?" she whispered, eyes scanning the table before her

  like it was potentially written in the wood. "Ah, yes, it was

  Toria. Spoiled rotten, head in the clouds and arrogant, even as a

  little girl. I don't know what had gotten into her head that she

  should be heir even with a boy child born. She certainly did not get

  it from me and I don't recall your mother filling her head with that

  nonsense either. Some children are just born rotten." The maid

  nodded her head in agreement with herself. "She should be just

  past teenager now, and I'm sure she's been spoiled against any

  goodness she may have been capable of with their ideas of witchcraft

  and magic."

  "I

  want to meet her," I said with a nod of my head. "Even if

  turned, siblings should know each other."

  "I

  do not think your father would approve of that," she said. "He

  has known about her whereabouts this entire time and has never

  visited, demanded her return, or inquired about her welfare as far as

  I've heard. She is lost to your family and that is how it should

  stay."

  “He

  may forbid me now, but he will not be king forever,” I replied.

  “When it is my turn to reign I will not care to listen to the

  reasons why I should not know her. I want to know her, we share

  blood.”

  The

  nursemaid let out a long, pained sigh and stood again. “You are

  still young and not wise to all of the world. Hopefully you will come

  to understand that some things are best left forgotten in the past.”

  She

  motioned for me to turn back around so she could continue preparing

  me for my training. I complied, but my mind still swirled from the

  knowledge that I had a sister. I wondered if she looked like me and

  if our connection would be immediate and we would recognize each

  other as kin.