Chapter 135: Term of Twenty

At the hour of night, darkness had fallen over the courthouse grounds and the day’s chatter had turned quiet. Most of the men had already departed, their footsteps long faded and only a handful lingered to complete the last of their duties. The wind had grown restless as the hours went on, rushing through the trees and making them tremble, along with the flames in the iron fire pits.

Right now, behind one of the tall windows on the ground floor stood two men at the back of the building who had only recently been admitted into service.

“I cannot believe that after all the examinations I endured, I have been assigned to guard duty,” one of them muttered, clicking his tongue in quiet displeasure. “To stand here like a watchman, in case he storms out and strikes Minister Griswold again. It seems His Highness is rather powerless on his own. Pity.”

He turned to the window where the glass had fogged slightly due to the cold weather, blurring the view of the room behind it.

The other minister, who stood beside him with a cigar held between his fingers, let out a quiet breath before speaking.

“It would be wise not to judge by appearances,” he said calmly, the ember at the tip of his cigar glowing as he took another slow drag. “And wiser still not to say such things aloud lest you find yourself on the prince’s execution list. The moment Prince Edward reaches the age of twenty, he will be able to resist the First Elder Minister’s commands. And when that day comes, he will not forget who spoke carelessly while he was unable to answer back.”

The first minister fell silent at that, his earlier irritation turning to unease. He murmured, “That is rather odd. I don’t think I heard it before.”

“It is an old rule,” the second minister continued. “Which is precisely why the First Elder ordered the prince to remain here tonight. To reflect, as he called it.”

The first minister gave a small scoff, though it lacked the confidence it had before. He said, “We have been standing here for hours. I am certain Prince Edward has had more than enough time to reflect by now.”

But the truth was far from it.

Inside the room, Prince Edward lay sprawled across the couch in a most undignified manner with one arm hanging loosely toward the floor while his legs extended far beyond it. the other end. One would have assumed by the look alone that the prince had been grinding through his time in Sexton.

But it was Hermes who was running on lack of sleep. The attendant wore a slight look of bewildered expression, listening to the prince snore now.

When the prince’s attendant heard the distant footsteps echoing out in the corridor, approaching their room, he straightened immediately to have the prince in a presentable state.

“Your Highness,” Hermes called in a low voice, attempting to wake the prince up before the person approaching arrived. “It seems we may soon be permitted to return to Sexton. Your Highness?”

“Mm,” Edward responded without opening his eyes. He stretched like a languid cat, entirely untroubled before slowly pushing himself upright just as the doorknob on the other side of the door began to turn. Still half-asleep, he muttered, “The first person I shall have beheaded once I come of age will be you.”

“Your High—” Hermes began carefully.

“Do not worry. I know you will faithfully assist in my plans, Hermes. You always do,” Edward gave a solemn nod with a pleased expression while he tried to let the sleepiness slip out of him.

“Conspiring to murder the king will land you in the dungeon, boy, no matter how good the plan is,” came a slightly gruff male voice from the doorway as it opened. “That is even if the king in question happens to be your father.”

Edward’s eyes snapped fully open and for a brief moment, he froze like a boy caught stealing sweets.

“Father!” Edward exclaimed, far too loudly with a smile. “What a pleasant surprise. Truly. A delight. A rare and unexpected joy.”

He laughed once, then twice which was far more than the situation required, before slowly turning his head to glare at Hermes with sharp accusation in his eyes for failing to warn him sooner.

Hermes, who had served him long enough to understand this look, lowered his gaze respectfully and wondered if he should faint. He couldn’t read the king’s and what to expect right now.

Edward cleared his throat and straightened his posture at once, attempting to gather what remained of his dignity.

“I was merely resting after all the studying I did in Sexton,” he said as though it was him who had locked himself in the room for hours. “One reflects better after sleep. It clears the mind.”

“Surprising indeed,” King Septimus answered, his voice calm, though the weight in it was unmistakable. “Especially when I was informed that you had engaged in a physical altercation with a minister… over a woman.”

The humour Edward had worn moments ago faded almost instantly. There were very few people in the world who could silence him. His father was one of them.

The rule of the twentieth year had not been written without reason. In his earlier years, Edward’s temper had been swift and his authority unquestioned, and more than several unfortunate souls had lost their heads.

When the king stepped inside the room, his guards stood out in the corridor but someone else followed inside. It was Minister Maverick Griswold, whose one side of face was swollen and red.

“You…” Edward’s eyes narrowed instantly at the sight of the man. “I am going to turn you into a pulp today.”

“Edward,” King Septimus uttered, and the prince’s hands turned into fists. “The minister says he was at no fault and was attacked by you in broad daylight which several other ministers bore witness to.”

Edward pressed his lips before raising his chin in insistence. “I was minding my own business when the minister insulted me yesterday.”

“I swear I don’t remember talking to Your Highness!” Minister Maverick quickly informed. “It is true that I approached him three nights ago during Winter’s Ball, but all we did was exchange pleasantries.”

“He dishonoured Ruelle, Father,” Edward wore a look of displeasure.

“I did not! I didn’t even know that was her name. The woman I met during the ball was a vampiress. Alanna Beckett, you can verify it with her,” Minister Maverick explained, wanting to clear his name. “I was hit for no reason, my king.”

Edward frowned and pointed accusingly. He said, “That man is the reason I am here. If he had simply not offended me, I would currently be in Sexton studying like a very responsible prince.”

And with Ruelle next to him, thought Edward to himself. A day not spent with her was a day lost! Thought the prince.

Minister Maverick’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “My King, I should be compensated for the wrong done to me. Forgive me, Your Highness, but this is all a misunderstanding.”

On the other hand, Hermes’ eyebrows had furrowed deeply in question. The minister was with Miss Beckett? But then Miss Ruelle had agreed that the minister had come for her last noon. Was the minister lying to save himself? But what if the minister wasn’t lying? Who had actually bitten the young woman?

Minister Maverick was dismissed from the room with a wave from the king. “Hermes,” King Septimus called, while jerking his head in the direction of the minister and the attendant quickly bowed before stepping out of the room with the minister.

“Is this the same woman whom you wrote to me about wanting as your mistress?” the king questioned in curiosity.

Edward did not answer immediately.

King Septimus walked closer until he stood directly before his son. He lifted his hand and took hold of Edward’s chin, turning his face slightly to the side, inspecting for bruises or injuries.

“You must learn to choose your battles wisely, Edward. A prince does not fight every man who offends him. He decides which battles are worth the war that follows,” The king’s gaze hardened slightly as he continued to speak. “You were sent to Sexton to complete your education and your understanding of this world, not to create spectacles that ministers must write reports about to me.”

He turned away slightly, his voice lowering, “If this woman is the cause of such disturbances then perhaps I should simply remove the disturbance from your path—”

“You will not harm her, Father! I will not allow it!” Edward’s voice cut through the room before the king had even finished speaking. He hoped his father was joking… “She is better than any princess raised in royal courts. She has never treated me differently. She has been patient with me… even when I did not deserve it. And she has never once judged me. I care for her more deeply than you can realise.”

King Septimus regarded his son in silence, and though his expression revealed little, there was a faint shift in his thoughts.

Edward being the youngest of the princes, he had never shown interest in anyone before his time at Sexton.

If anything, the prince had always been a young man thoroughly occupied with his own existence. Edward admired Edward. He agreed with Edward and rarely found company more agreeable than himself.

“It would seem this woman holds great importance to you,” King Septimus remarked, watching his son look agitated.

“That is correct,” Edward said with a soft huff. “I would not trouble myself over a man so insignificant were the matter not important.”

“And what is your opinion, Hermes?” the king asked the attendant, who stood a short distance away with his eyes respectfully lowered to the floor.

“M–Me, Your Majesty?” Hermes asked, momentarily startled. He hesitated only a second before answering carefully, “Miss Ruelle is a very fine young woman. And… if I may be so bold, she seems to bring out the best in His Highness. The prince has been very disciplined of late. He studies even at night now.”

Edward’s chin rose higher than before as if to emphasise the truth.

The king’s eyes moved between the two of them, observing far more than either of them said aloud. After a moment, he gave a thoughtful nod. He said at last,

“Very well. If she is the one you desire, I will have arrangements made. The girl will be purchased and brought to the castle as your mis—”

“NO!” The word came out of Edward before the king had even finished speaking.

King Septimus raised one eyebrow slightly in surprise.

Edward rarely refused anything offered to him. The prince spoke this time quietly, “Do not buy her…”

Edward could already imagine the look Ruelle would give him if she ever discovered such a thing she would look at him with disappointment.

“If I am not mistaken,” the king said at last as if recollecting something, “Sexton will be holding a bidding soon. The establishment expects the humans to be sold. They are not released out of mercy. Not even by my word.”

Edward’s eyebrows furrowed at what his father was getting at.

“If the girl is as exceptional as you believe,” the king continued calmly, “then it is very likely she will be purchased when the bidding takes place and it isn’t far.”

Edward’s jaw clenched. He said, “Then give me the authority, Father. Anyone who bids for her will lose his head.”

For a brief moment, silence filled the room.

The prince heard his father chuckle out of amusement. His father patted his back and said,

“Let us return to the castle and then talk about it. You can head back to Sexton tomorrow.” And they stepped out of the room, walking through the quiet corridor, when he heard, “The royal family possesses more wealth than the rest of the court combined. When the time comes, there will be no reason for you to lose the bid.

—

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