On The Edge of a Blade

Chapter 9.2

Despair hadn't been quite the same since the Attack. His leg was almost completely healed, but he wasn't the tame, trusting beast he had once been. He refused to let anyone but James handle him, excluding even Maddox from his circle of faith. That revocation of trust puzzled the prince, but he had never before spoken to his elder about it.

Now, however, he chose to bring it up. "Maddox, what's wrong with Despair?" James stroked his horse's velvet nose, unable to restrain a smile as the horse blew warm air onto his hand. "He's been acting off for a while. Nobody's been mistreating him, correct?" A response didn't come immediately, neither to confirm nor deny. "Maddox?"

"Don't worry, James. No one has done anything to him." Reassuring words, but Maddox's voice was, for some reason, devoid of a reassuring tone.

James frowned, and stared into the deep, soulful eyes of his horse. Despair gazed back at him, quiet and gentle. Out of everyone whom he interacted with, James found himself relating to the beasts of the land alone. As a kid, he had had multiple pets, including cats and even a fennec fox, all of which became better companions for him than other children of notable birth. Even now, after so many years, nothing had really changed; Despair--a mere horse--was his best friend. Humankind might control language, but only animals were steadfast in their ability to communicate.

How could it be that the horses in James's life were more human than the men and women he knew?

"Are you coming, James?" Maddox didn't want to be the strict antagonist in this situation, but it was impossible to conceal his impatience. This change in normal attitude was odd, since he typically loved to join James in greeting Despair; either something had happened to change that tendency, or else he was feeling some second hand anxiety for James's coming meeting with his father.

"Yeah." James stroked Despair for a final time before returning to Maddox.

"Why don't you ever interact with other people the way you do with Despair?" Maddox inquired as they headed into the castle, equally as quizzical as he was frustrated.

In response, James simply smiled wryly. "I just like animals better than people. They aren't nearly as petty as humans," he said, gracefully ignoring the fact that he was more petty than most everyone put together. "Plus they don't freak out when you break their agendas."

To that comment, Maddox grunted. "Don't get passive aggressive with me, kid. You're too sane to become a hermit and build a city of animals. You're also too far up the social ladder to throw away your responsibilities."

"I don't create complicated schedules; everyone else does that to me. I can complain all I want because I'm innocent."

"Good luck reaching a solution with that strategy," Maddox chuckled grimly. "Now stop screwing around. Less talk, more walk. Save your smart ass conversational skills for later."

Not like James would do much talking once he was with the king. Nonetheless, he complied, zipping his lips and tossing away the key indefinitely.

-----

James had forgotten how much he hated it when his father called for him. He loathed walking through those massive wooden doors into the throne room, and abhorred traveling up the endless path leading to the throne. The echoes of his footsteps rang out mockingly, reverberating off of each and every stone used to craft the walls of the throne room; every pair of eyes present stared straight through his skin into the marrow of his bones.

As his soul was ripped to shreds by sharp, judgmental gazes, James felt more like a prisoner coming to receive his sentence, not a prince beckoned forward by his father. Bones, he might as well be a criminal! The only times in which his own flesh and blood deemed it necessary to interact with him was when he happened to be in trouble. Because of that, never in his life had Father and Son actually carried on a proper civilized conversation together.