CHAPTER 2 - LONG LIVE THE KING

“THE coronation shall take place a moon’s turn from now, my Prince.” Elder Gieronymus, a formidable man of sixty, gray-haired and sharp-eyed, announced at the council table. The King’s funeral procession took place two days prior. “As per your wishes, the preparations for your crowning were set aside to make way for the funeral of the late King Alaric. The lords from the faraway territories who arrived for the funeral have opted to stay and wait for the coronation, while those whose castles are nearby have returned to their lands, and shall be back in time for the big event. We have sent word to our allied kingdoms, and they shall be present, as well.”

Elder Hildegarde spoke. “Your marriage to Lady Cecily is another matter of concern, my Lord. My family thinks it may be wise for it to take place the same time as the coronation. What better time than when the whole kingdom is present?”

Prince Archer was looking at the window as he quietly listened to the voices of his companions, his mind remembering the funeral procession that was dedicated to his departed father. He got what he wanted: a memorial fit for a King as good as Alaric was. All the lords and ladies of the great houses of the kingdom were there to witness the wise and just King laid to rest.

After a few moments of silence, Archer looked thoughtfully at the members of the council. “My wise lords and ladies, you have served my father the King ably and faithfully for decades. You knew him as well as anyone ever had, perhaps more than I ever did. He was a good King, was he not?”

A chorus of approval answered.

“He was a great King, my Lord,” quipped Elder Athelstan, tall and wiry in his dark blue robes. “He was the reason we were not defeated by the Kingdom of Galvanith, despite their fervent attempts to do so. He was feared by his enemies, and loved by his people.”

“And a good father, as well,” Archer responded. “He was always kind to me, and my sisters. It could not have been easy, running a kingdom and raising three children as unruly as we have been. Think of Agatha!”

At this, fond laughter ensued. The second born princess was as mischievous as she was lovely, and the council was forever exasperated yet enamored with her, perhaps in equal measure.

“We loved him dearly,” the prince continued. “And he loved us. He loved the kingdom. And yet at times, I felt like he was as unhappy as anyone could be, like something was amiss, like he was still searching for contentment.

I used to think that it was because of my queen mother’s death; that he was still mourning her. I, as well as my dear sisters, had assumed that he would remarry, and he would finally find happiness. But I do not believe that anymore. He never tried to find another wife, it is true, but not out of love for my mother, I think.”

“My Lord,” Lord Anselm interjected, “surely you are not suggesting that King Alaric did not cherish the beautiful Queen Amarantha? He did, my Prince. He was ever faithful to her.”

“Yes, yes, I agree,” Archer replied. “He was faithful, and respectful towards her, for that was who he was. But their marriage was of an alliance in nature and not of love, was it not, my Lord Anselm?”

“It was, Prince Archer,” the elder admitted.

“What I am trying to say, my wise council, is that he was lonely man. A good king, and a lonely man. Is that what being a ruler means? Was there ever a king who was happy?” he asked, his voice a low pitch.

The lords and ladies of the council looked at each other. It was Elder Theodosia, a wizened woman of regal bearing, who answered. “I am afraid not, my dear prince. Being a king is not for the faint of heart. It is a true sacrifice, one so noble it can leave one bare. It requires all that you have: your time, your love, your sorrows, and your happiness.”

Archer smiled sadly. “My father King Alaric taught me as much, my lady. I know what awaits me.”

He turned to look at the window of the council hall, viewing the luscious mountains in the distance. “How old was my father when he became King, my lords and ladies?”

Elder Ermentrude, whose traces of great beauty can still be seen through the marks of age, answered. “Eight and ten, my Lord.”

“Yes, eight-and-ten. Only a year older than Madeleine is now.”

“Quite so, my Lord,” responded Elder Anselm. “His father, King Roderick, was slain in a battle between the forces of Vrasambail and Galvanith, at only nine-and-thirty. He was immediately crowned as the King after. Your father was, begging your pardons, a wild youth. He was courageous and brave and vagrant by heart, wanting to explore every corner of the land with any chance he had.”

“And yet he was not able to, for he had to rule,” the prince replied with a small smile. “He was crowned at eighteen, yet five years passed before he wed my mother. Why is that so?”

The members present all turned to look at Elder Hezekiah. He was a man over three-score in age; his once fierce stance now a slump, his once clear green eyes now tired and cloudy.

“My Prince Archer,” he began, “the King Alaric strongly opposed to any conversation regarding that matter.”

The prince pointedly looked at Hezekiah, his usually laughing eyes stern. “And here I thought you are here to serve me.”

Elder Hezekiah had sputtered in embarrassment. “Begging your pardon, my prince. You are right, we are to serve at your pleasure. Your father the King was once betrothed to my youngest daughter, Helena. “

Archer started. “I have never known that until now. What came of the betrothal, Elder Hezekiah?”

The old man’s eyes were pained as he spoke in a grim voice. “My beautiful Helena passed away, my prince. She was but seventeen. A sudden bout of illness took her life merely a moon’s turn before her wedding to King Alaric.”

The prince was quiet for a while. “I am sorry to hear that, my Lord. What was she like?”

Elder Hezekiah bowed his head. “I thank you, Prince Archer. She was beautiful, and full of mischief, not unlike the Princess Agatha. The King and I used to talk about her in private, my lord, before she wed your mother the Queen Amarantha. He loved her so. I mean no disrespect to the memories of the lovely queen, my lord. She was cherished by your father, and admired throughout the kingdom. But my Helena and the king were betrothed since they were little children running through the castle together.”

“Just like the Lady Cecily and I.”

“Quite so. Although he never explicitly expressed it, I knew that Helena was the reason he found it hard to wed anyone else, despite the pleadings of the council for him to produce an heir. Until came your mother, of course, who was as lovely as she was kind.”

The prince pondered this for a moment. “My lords and ladies. King Alaric was young when he became the ruler of this land. For a man with as adventurous a heart as he had, he must have had regrets not having done all the things he wanted to. My father was a good King, but he was not a happy one.

I intend to be as happy as I am good, my dear council.”

The room was quiet.

“I know my duties. I know my responsibilities, and I intend to take them all once I am king. But I am yet to be crowned, aren’t I?”

“But- my Lord, the coronation is but a moon’s turn away. Lady Cecily..”

“The time between now and the coronation shall be mine. I shall be gone to explore the Forest of Mysteries, my lords and ladies. Meet with the people, find joy before I take the weight of Vrasambail on my shoulders.”

The council looked horrified. “Surely you are jesting, my Prince,” Elder Hildegarde protested. “It would not be safe for you. You might be recognized by enemies.”

“I will not be recognized, my lady.”

“Prince Archer.” High Elder Anselm began in calm voice. “This is highly irregular. The Kingdom needs you.”

The prince smiled, looking boyish, and with a rare playful glint in the eyes that is usually only seen in the Princess Agatha’s, not in the prince’s or in younger Madeleine’s. “I am not leaving the kingdom in chaos, my Lord. I am leaving it in your hands, dear council of mine. I have trust in you. As for the Lady Cecily, I will speak to her myself.”

Words of protests followed from the council. The prince raised a palm, instantly quieting the room. “I understand your concerns. But you have to believe me when I say that this is exactly what I need. You are my subjects as well as my council, lords and ladies, and you are bound to obey my command. High Elder Anselm, you shall be the regent during my absence. None shall know of my whereabouts, except those who are in this room at this moment. Tell anyone who questions you that I asked for privacy to mourn my father, and that I am preparing for my wedding, as well.”

Prince Archer stood and looked at the protesting faces of the lords and ladies of the Elder of Council. “I shall return in time for my coronation. And I swear to all of you, I will return a better man.”