Knights in Shining Armor (And Princes in Love)

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Veran had always loved the calmness he found in the little girl who was brought in by his Uncle after a particularly bad expedition all those years ago, claiming she had been separated from her family and Adras just couldn't find it in himself to leave her behind in all that bloodshed. She had been so frail back then, not skinny enough to warrant concern over an extreme lack of nutrition but there was a sharpness to her small figure, as if she only had enough food to survive. Her now shiny and well groomed hair was rough and in long tangles back then.

He wasn't surprised by this, even when he was quite young, having seen the difference between kids of nobility and those of commoners the few times he was allowed to step outside palace grounds with his mother when she was still alive. He was too young to truly acknowledge and understand such distinction back then but it stayed in his mind, making him wonder what could the useless ministers be doing instead of doing something that would be for the betterment of the subjects. It didn't take long for him to get the answers as he continued to witness several acts of corruption and greed among the nobles growing up.

"Mother," he remembered asking during one of their visits outside, "how come some people live in big houses but others don't? Fergo says it's because of their own doing."

His mother, Queen Relia Dazeriatt, had pushed a stray chunk of long hair from his face before she looked at the houses and people her son pointed towards.

"That is certainly not true for everyone, Ver. It's true that some people end up wasting away their wealth and assets through wrong means but a lot of people are unfortunately born into less than favorable circumstances. Some of them get the opportunity to change their situation while others continue to struggle."

The young prince had frowned then, puzzling over his mother's words for a moment, "Can the King help those people? The ones who don't manage to get enough chances to improve their lives?"

Judging by the knowing smile tugging at the Queen's face, Veran assumed he had asked something good.

"That is precisely what the duty of a ruler entails, Veran. As someone who is privileged enough to be in a position where they can create opportunities for others according to their needs, a good ruler makes use of such privilege and creates a nation that runs for the people, first and foremost."

"Is Father a good ruler then?"

At the young prince's curiously innocent question, there had been a dimness in the grey eyes of the Queen, the previously open smile turned tight at the corners.

"Well, he tries," she had responded after a brief pause, "But he's not perfect, your father. Power politics and corrupt advisors keep him too occupied. If you choose to succeed him, Ver, I wish for you to become the kind of King you want to be without worrying about what the others in the palace expect you to be. Be the ruler you would want to be ruled under, Veran."

Perhaps that's why his mother emphasized on his frequent visits to nearby towns, explaining to him the hard life some people lived and reminding him what he should be appreciative of. With young Cirthe's presence in his life, that fact got further cemented. The stories she recalled from her life lived before coming to the palace, the mundaness of it all and yet the simple joys her tales carried left a deep impression on Veran. He wanted to know everything about her. Perhaps that's where it started, her quiet happiness becoming a source of peace for him, something that was lacking quite a bit ever since his mother passed away.

And while he still remembered his mother's words and Cirthe's tales, Veran could not help but feel irked listening to the people he was meant to rule soon, speaking so bitterly about him. They had all the right to, but it still made him uneasy. So it really was a blessing that his attention was taken by the figure that approached him, before he said something in his restless state.