The Prince of Ilios

Ten

Nicola had finished breakfast. Eggs benedict, bacon, a glass of milk, and springfruit. The spicy sweet flavor of the blue fruit lingered in his mouth. The freshness had put him in an unexpectedly good mood. He stood, nodding to his attendant, who had arrived a day after him, "Jude, retrieve my coat. We must head out and set up a temporary leader for the troops. Perhaps I can be back in enough time to get married. In the meantime I will be in town. I've been meaning to gather supplies."

Jude nodded.

The Prince headed to the door. He flung them open, irritated that he had to do it himself instead of the doormen. When he looked up, he realized why. Instead of doormen, four guards were posted outside of his room. He grimaced, "Surely all this protection is unnecessary, we are in the middle of the Palace." He hoped beyond all hope that this was some sort of farce. He tried to step out and they crossed their spears in front of him.

The one to the left was brave enough to speak, "I'm sorry, Your Highness. You are not allowed to leave."

"What?" Nicola rubbed his temple, trying, not only to make his looming migraine disappear, but also the guards.

"Here is a letter from the King, explaining everything." The guard to the right handed him a piece of parchment with the King's seal on it.

Nicola skimmed through its contents, turned on his heel, and roared his disapproval as the doors closed behind him.

Jude returned with his coat, "Are we not going out today, Sir?"

"The King, in his great wisdom," Nicola's voice was dripping with rage and sarcasm, "Has decided that I will not leave the Palace until after my wedding. He would like my help to make the preparations, and until everyone begins arriving I am confined to my room until dinner each night!" He was on the verge of insanity. He stomped out to his balcony, hoping the fresh air would bring him some clarity.

"I will get you something to drink, my Prince."

The King was making it impossible for him to leave. Not only that, but no one in town did business after dinner, therefore he would not even be visiting town for supplies. He had effectively been imprisoned in his own room, by his own father. He looked about at the disgustingly ornate furnishings, his gilded cage. If he stepped out of line too much, his father would just serve up his sisters to Cyrus. Nicola's migraine was raging in his head now.

A moment later Jude appeared with a bottle of scotch and a crystal glass of ice.

"You read my mind." Nicola downed the first glass, hoping that the liquid would calm him enough to form coherent thoughts, instead of the string of profanity that was on parade in his mind. He nodded his thanks to Jude, "Leave the bottle nearby. I have to write a letter to Commander Tannin and then I will have more. A perfectly good morning, gone to rot!"

---

After a week of being confined, Nicola was loosing his mind. He even contemplated how many of his bones would actually break if he jumped from his balcony. He was still toying with the idea when Jude announce the arrival of his father, the King.

Nicola turned, facing the door. It was all the reverence that he could manage as the King arrived, his golden velvet cape billowing behind him. He was wearing his crisp white uniform, from his military days.

Offering him a seat at the tea table, the Prince eyed the King suspiciously, "Have you now come to send me to the dungeon in person?"

Jude produced a chess board, placing it down in front of the King.

The King motioned for Nicola to sit, "I thought we might play a short game."

"I am honored that the King would come to entertain me." He wasn't pulling any punches today. His tone was cold and sarcastic, prickly like thorns covered in ice.

"Oh, come now, Nicola. You have been in communication with Tannin. You know that all is going well in your absence."

"That is not the point, Majesty."

The King moved his piece first, he barely looked at the board as he placed it, as though he did not even care where the piece was, "Then, here is a challenge for some of your freedom. You may come and go as you choose, if you win."

Nicola's ears perked up, but his eyes narrowed. As desperate as he was to get his freedom, he knew he was walking on thin ice. There had to be more, "What else?"

"Some of your guests have been arriving. I was hoping that you might take them with you. You know, meet them, be a gentleman. Perhaps pick a favorite for winning?" King Henry's brow raised. His hand motioned to Nicola

"I see." Nicola sighed, "There are strings." He took his seat across from the King. The golden cushion offered no comfort to him. Nicola seemed to be on edge incessantly.

"Don't say it like that!" The King smiled, even though is words were razor sharp, "I just want you to be happy. I cannot have you meeting the future Queen of Ilios with this attitude. I am sure that Nadia and Noelle could put on a better face for Cyrus. The servants tell me that you have been frightening. We don't want you to scare the provinces away..."

"Fine!" Nicola interrupted him, moving a pawn into place.

The King stood and began to leave.

"Where are you going? I agreed to your silly game!" Nicola called. Nicola couldn't help the force that matched his rising temperature as his hands slammed down on the sides of the table.

"I believe I have already won, my son." The King dismissed the guards at the Prince's door and a set of doormen replaced them.

Nicola flipped the table, the pieces crashing to the floor. He glared down as one piece continued to stand. The white king, of course. He picked it up, clenching it in his fist, as though he could suffocate the King by doing so. He stomped to the balcony and threw it into the pond below. If it were possible, the stormy sky had become even darker.