Chapter Ten: The Distance

For Cedoric, the morning didn’t actually start until he could smell the hay from the stables. The sun was just about to break the barrier of earth and sky, but there was already movement in the royal stables. The stable hands were already at work when he got there. His friend Ben had greeted him with a bucket and brush in hand as he made his way to Ash’s stable. His horse didn’t have one of the royal suites that Walric’s or Orther’s had, Ash’s was normal size, with aging wood all around and a basic feed and a water trough. Even the blanket that covered his back was a common brown wool. Cedoric had been able to sew a patch of his family’s crest in it a few years ago, which made it more special to him, but that was really what made the love of his horse even more significant. Nobody saw Ash for what he actually was. He wasn’t a war horse, he wasn’t going to win any beauty contests, but he was gentle and patient and he listened. And for the ninth child of a busy ruler, that was immensely appreciated. 

“Good morning my friend.” Cedoric told Ash as he walked in with breakfast and a pot of fresh water. As he entered the stable Ash sleepily walked towards him and nudged his face as he placed the food. Cedoric gave him a good scratch behind his ears before he got to work on cleaning his friend. 

“There’s a lot going on in the castle today. The Qartholi are making it right at home for them. They’re going to stay for the next year while father makes alliance negotiations. The servants are having a heyday trying to figure out how to accommodate people who come from somewhere very different.” Cedoric told his horse as he brushed him. “I wonder if Elora had the same issues when she was in Veeque.” he said out loud, but then became quiet thinking about his older sister and how different she now was. Anytime he got with her since she returned felt more like sending her a letter and waiting months to get a reply. He had hoped that with more time back at home she would become more herself, but if he was honest with himself, it was only getting worse. 

“I’m not doing much today,” Cedoric continued, trying to shake off the thoughts about Elora. “There’s a lot of talk about Walric getting another tournament. There was talk about a prize being a new title for some land in Tharvess. Everyone seems excited for that.” Ash nudged him for a treat and Cedoric gave it willingly. “Rylla got caught in the servants quarters hiding behind a bin, obviously trying to hear something she wasn’t supposed to hear. Mother was not happy with her.” 

Cedoric gave a big sigh as he looked over his gray and white speckled friend. “Everyone is pretty busy doing their own things, but after lunch Orther promised to do a sparring lesson with me. I’m excited to show him how much I’ve improved.”

“Hey Ced.” Came a friendly voice. Cedoric looked over the stable gate to see his friend Tom, a kitchen boy whom he became quick friends with a half a decade ago. As big as his family was he had felt incredibly lonely until Tom entered his life. Most days Tom would meet him in the stables and bring him breakfast he would eat on the way back to the castle with him. Today was no different, Cedoric finished with Ash, gave him a few more pets and treats and then left with Tom. 

The two boys joked and laughed and allowed themselves the small amount of time before responsibilities took them, to be twelve year old boys. As the kitchens called Tom, lessons called Cedoric and they both went their separate ways once they were in the castle. Cedoric listened to lectures and wrote formal letters and solved algorithms and learned the difference between a bow to a matron and a bow to a maiden. 

As lunch was announced Cedoric ran to the dining room and inhaled the food before he ran out again, excited to find Orther. The castle halls were busy, servants rushing around and courtiers whispering in alcoves. As Cedoric rushed around, trying to not get in people’s way, his smile grew wider. He loved being a part of so much going on around him. He got a thrill of pride with how well everything and everyone thrived in his home, like a well oiled machine. 

Orther, as usual, was extremely hard to find. He began in his brother’s receiving chamber to no avail, then in the gardens outside with nothing. He began to circle around to the dining room again when he passed a chamber door that was slightly ajar. Though he doubted Orther would purposely be in one of those without an order, he felt it necessary to look everywhere he could. 

As soon as he got close enough to hear his father’s voice, he froze. High King Malrik was always busy with important things, and Cedoric knew quite well that his desire to spar with his older brother was not on his father’s list. He started backing up until he heard his sister’s name, “Princess Elora.” He paused, fighting the urge to go, everyone had been talking about his sister, but to hear what his father had to say about her was too tempting to walk away from. He found his feet tiptoeing closer to the door for a better look. 

The council room was one of the smaller ones, usually only used for internal conflicts, and thus the seven very familiar people in the room made sense to Cedoric. Both his father and mother were present. The others he knew just by being a prince in the castle and seeing them often enough. The High Chancellor Valroth Deymar and the Grand Marshal Torvane Harlund stood beside his father looking as serious as ever. If they had another facial expression Cedoric was unaware of it. The High Seeress Calyra of the Veins and the Mistress of Secrets, Lady Veyla stood on both sides of his mother looking anxious and worried. The farthest away from his parents was the High Treasurer Selvin Arwyth. 

Varoth Deymar folded his hands atop the council table. “The matter of Qarthos remains unresolved.” The quiet side conversations ceased. Malrik sat at the head of the table, his expression was unreadable. Queen Lioraen’s gaze remained fixed on the window overlooking Korvethis below. Valroth continued. “Princess Elora was originally intended to secure the alliance. Since the intervention of Veeque, that arrangement is no longer practical.”

Cedoric saw his mother’s posture move as her jaw twitched, no one commented on it and went on with the conversation continued by Selvin Arwyth as he cleared his throat. “Qarthos controls three of the southern trade passages. We cannot afford to leave the matter unsettled.” 

Grand Marshal Torvane grunted. “We could.” 

Selvin rolled his eyes. “We could also stop collecting taxes and hope goodwill feeds the kingdom.” 

Torvane shrugged. “That sounds simpler.” 

The argument died before it began. Valroth opened the ledger and spoke loudly. “The alliance requires a royal marriage.” There was a pause as Valroth looked towards Malrik. “Princess Elmara remains the most obvious alternative.” 

“No.” The word came immediately from Queen Lioraen. No hesitation, no consideration, just a simple no. 

Valroth glanced toward her. “Your Majesty,”

“No.” The Queen folded her hands. “You will not send both of my daughters beyond our borders.” 

Silence followed. Even Varoth knew better than to challenge that directly. After a moment he inclined his head. “As you wish.” He made a note and continued. “Princess Rylla.” 

Lady Veyla laughed softly. The sound somehow felt dangerous. “Absolutely not.” 

Torvane smirked. “Agreed.” 

Varoth arched an eyebrow. “You’re reasoning?” 

Veyla smiled. “Within a year she would know every secret in Qarthos.” 

“That seems beneficial.” Valroth sounded confused. 

“For us.” The spymaster leaned back in her seat. “For them it would be catastrophic.” A few quiet chuckles circled the room, even Malrik’s mouth twitched. “Besides,” Veyla continued, “the princess has an unfortunate tendency to investigate things she should not.” 

Torvane barked a laugh. “She takes after her mother.” 

Lioraen gave him a look. Torvane wisely stopped speaking. 

Varoth sighed. “Very well. Princess Rylla is unsuitable.” His pen scratched across parchment. The room grew quiet again. One option after another crossed away. 

Selvin drummed his fingers. “If not Princess Elmara and not Princess Rylla, who remains?” Silence settled over the table, long enough to feel heavy. 

The Varoth spoke. “Prince Cedoric.” The words landed softly, almost casually. No one reacted, no objections, no protests, just consideration. 

Cedoric felt a chill run down his spine as he waited, he waited to hear his mother’s voice object, waited even for his father to remind everyone he was a prince of Korvethis, that his place was here. 

Selvin nodded first. “The arrangement would satisfy the agreement.” 

Torvane grunted. “The boy would manage.”

Varoth looked up. “You believe so?” 

“He adapts.” Torvane shrugged. “Always has.” 

Lady Veyla tilted her head. “He is likable.” 

Another mark beside his name. 

Selvin nodded. “Qarthos would find that useful.” 

Useful. 

Varoth made another note. “The prince is young enough to be shaped by their customs.” 

Another note. 

“The bloodline remains secure.” 

Another. 

“The alliance would hold.” 

Another. 

Queen Lioraen remained silent. King Malrik remained silent. 

At the far end of the table, High Seeress Calyra slowly turned her blind eyes toward nothing at all. Ink-dark markings crawled across her skin like roots beneath water. “The youngest branch bends furthest from the tree.” 

The room fell quiet. 

Varoth pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have no idea what that means.” 

“It means exactly what it means.” 

“Helpful as always.” 

Calyra smiled faintly. “The branch survives because it bends.” 

Torvance shifted uncomfortably, but no one responded. 

Varoth cleared his throat. “The possibility warrants consideration.” 

Selvin nodded. “A reasonable solution.”

Another nod. Another agreement. Another practical observation. Not a single voice raised in objection. Not one. 

Finally Malrik rose from his chair. The discussion was over. “We will revisit the matter after the delegation departs.” The council stood, chairs scraped stone and papers were gathered. The conversations shifted as the future of a prince had been discussed, measured, evaluated and set aside. Just another matter of state. 

Cedoric left before anyone could see he was there. He walked down the halls, avoiding servants rushing around him like he was insignificant. All those people trying to fit in, all of it seemed distant. 

He walked past the training grounds where he saw Walric and Orther sparring, but he walked on, unnoticed. He walked through the gardens to see Leonah talking and laughing with some courtiers and kept walking. He walked past the entrance to the castle where Wrena was greeting new visitors while the servants around them brought their suitcases. Again, he walked on. Everything continued like it was another day, nobody heard what he had just heard. 

He didn’t realize where he was going until he saw the stables in front of him. He watched his feet lead him to Ash’s stable. He only looked up as he locked the gate behind him and looked around at the mostly empty barn, all horses calm and relaxing in the afternoon light. Ash nudged him for treats. 

He brushed, he bathed, he fed, he watered. He stuck to the routine quietly, trying not to think about anything but the care of his horse. As he put on his wool blanket and patted the gelding’s neck, Ash turned his head and nudged him again, like he always did, but something caught in Cedoric’s throat this time. His hands began to shake uncontrollably and tears fell from his eyes. His face found his horse’s neck and he buried it and sobbed. 

After supper, a supper Cedoric did not attend, Elmara called out for him. “Cedoric? Are you out here?” she called. 

At first Cedoric didn’t want to answer, but he knew if he kept on hiding, it would cause more uproar than he wanted. “I’m here with Ash.” he called. 

His kind older sister walked out past the beautiful stallions and put her hands on the gate to Ash’s stable. She looked over her brother with concern. Cedoric had finished crying some time ago, but there was little to help with the red he felt around his eyes. 

“Orther and I were waiting for you. I was hoping to see your improvements.” Elmara told him before tilting her head. “Is something wrong?” 

“Nothing.” Cedoric said too quickly. 

Elmara didn’t say anything, just kept looking at her younger brother. 

At first Cedoric tried to look busy, too busy to talk, but as it grew harder and harder to keep fresh tears out he began to speak. “Do you think Father would send me away?” 

Elmara tilted her head the opposite way. “What makes you ask that question?” 

Cedoric spewed out the entire scene, who all was involved, what all was said. The more he said the more the tears ran and the more shocked Elmara looked. By the end of his explanation Elmara had moved into the stable and hugged her brother, holding him almost like she would a baby to her shoulder. 

She pulled away and gripped his shoulders. “Cedoric, you are their son, they love you. They wouldn’t send you away.” 

Cedoric looked for any fail in her belief and couldn’t find any. “Then why did they say no for you?” He asked, hoping for some kind of explanation, but none came from his sister’s tight lips. “Why did they say no for Rylla?” He gave his sister more seconds to explain, but again there was only silence. “Why didn’t they say no for me?” 

Elmara pulled her brother into a hug once again, because that’s all she could do. She had no answer, because there wasn’t one, because the one they both could feel they didn’t want to admit. As he embraced the hug from his sister he looked towards the Korvethis castle; the sun setting behind them on the cliff. It was beautiful and familiar and home, his home, but for the first time, it didn’t feel close. It didn’t feel certain, as if the castle could let him go, let him leave, and nothing for the castle or those inside of it, changed. He would change though, he knew, and he didn’t know if he could survive it. 

Cedoric felt Ash’s head lean on his shoulder and the warmth meshed with his sister’s embrace. Ash was steady and certain, more certain in that moment than anything inside the castle walls.