The man fixed the boy with a gaze full of theatrical flair. His options were dwindling, a fact he was acutely aware of, causing him to groan and fumble for a bag hanging from his waist. He extended it tentatively, his lips contorting into a clumsy, lopsided smile aimed at the weathered and rough sailors.
“Ah, let us not indulge in such theatrics, shall we? How about we calm ourselves first? My boy… I mean, the little lad, he simply lost his temper, that’s all. No need to be on edge. Here’s an offering as a token of my apology.” He chuckled nervously, emitting a belch as he extended his hand.
The sailors, their faces etched with grim and haunting expressions, suddenly brightened at the sound of coins jingling within the bulky bag. One sailor swiftly seized the bag from the man’s grasp.
“Aye, I concur. Let us settle this like true men,” declared one of the sailors. “You ought to teach that lad discipline, my friend, else he’ll meet an untimely demise.”
“Ha-ha, indeed…” the man chuckled apprehensively.
The sailor glanced at his companions over his shoulder, seeking their agreement.
“We’re not angry, are we?” he inquired.
“No, not at all! I was merely pondering whether the lad had lost his wits,” replied another sailor. “All is well. We’re good here.”
The rest nodded vigorously in agreement. At some point, someone suggested they retire to the tavern for a drink, and so they did, ultimately succumbing to the intoxicating allure of spirits.
Only the man and the boy remained on the desolate dock.
The man wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and observed the boy, who gazed pensively at the vast expanse of the azure sea. “Your Majesty, pray tell, what is transpiring? I am as bewildered as a bee without nectar! Shed light upon this enigma, Your Majesty.”
A few days prior, at the break of dawn, the young king had burst through the man’s door, demanding that he dress hastily and prepare for a swift departure. Without explanation, they mounted their horses and galloped due south, leaving no time for questions.
They had been traveling for days without rest or sustenance, and the man’s hunger gnawed at him fiercely. He beseeched the young king for a brief respite, noting that their steeds required rest, lest they perish from overexertion.
The young king nodded in agreement, and at long last, they took a momentary pause.
The man sighed with relief, a smile playing on his lips.
Thereafter, they entered a nearby inn, hurriedly partaking in a meal while eavesdropping on the conversation between two commoners.
“Hey, have you heard what’s transpiring in the nobleman’s estate?”
“Are you referring to Count Alessin?”
“Yes, precisely.”
“Indeed. I heard his wife recently passed away. Rumor has it he left the funeral early, without even witnessing the burial. And it seems he had an illegitimate child from an extramarital affair. As soon as his wife died, he brought the child into his home, but his legitimate daughter cast them both out as if it were nothing.”
“Hmm, how did that come to pass?”
“The legal daughter did not wish to have a child from another woman residing in the family mansion.”
“But how is that possible? Why would the Count, with his title and all, be ousted from his own house by his own daughter?”
“I heard the late Countess hailed from noble royal lineage. Her properties were bestowed as her dowry. In the marriage contract, it was stipulated that should she pass away, her designated heir would be her own child. Thus, the Count had no claim to his wife’s possessions.”
“God, to be expelled by his own daughter. What a disgrace!”
“However, the Count has a determined daughter. He need not worry about her future.”
“Indeed, that’s precisely why I cannot fathom having a daughter. God, I can only imagine the challenges one would face. But if I were to have a daughter, she would unquestioningly obey. I cannot abide a child running amok.”
The innkeeper’s wife busied herself stirring a pot as the two men reveled in the latest scandal.
“What is wrong with you?” she snapped irritably. “What kind of father brings home a child from another woman as soon as his wife dies? It speaks volumes about his character!”
“What load of rubbish are you spouting, you ignorant woman! If the Countess had fulfilled her wifely duties properly, he would not have needed to seek solace elsewhere!”
“What? So this is the woman’s fault? Ugh, you do not deserve my food. Spit it all out, you damn rascals!”
Ladles clattered and plates soared through the air, turning the inn into a boisterous scene. Meanwhile, in a corner, a boy and a man sat silently, indulging in their meal.
“You best keep a vigilant eye on your nether regions, lest you find yourself bereft of manhood!” a woman exclaimed, her anger palpable.
“Aye, curse you, woman!” one man retorted, swiftly shielding his lower region.
“The young lady is preparing to depart from the estate and embark on the ship to Crichton,” the woman informed them. “What say you join me? We shall personally inform the young lady of how you dishonor her mother’s grave!”
“I spit on yer’ mother’s grave!” the man fired back.
The boy froze, his fork slipping from his grasp. He sprang to his feet and approached the rowdy table.
“What did you say? The young lady, she’s leaving Arundell?” the boy questioned anxiously.
The man and woman appeared somewhat puzzled by the boy’s sudden appearance, yet they shared what they knew.
“Kid, I heard it from a relative working in the mansion,” the man disclosed.
“The young lady sold off some properties and land, then secured a ticket from Salerno Port to Crichton. They departed this afternoon…” the woman added.
Before they could finish, the boy dashed out of the inn. The man, the boy’s servant, choked on his meal, left with no choice but to follow the boy’s lead.
“Your Majesty, wh… where are we headed?”
No matter how many times he asked, the boy offered no response. The sudden change in the boy’s demeanor perplexed him as well. He had always been stubborn and possessed a touch of a volatile temper, but never before had he treated his subordinates with such coldness…
The man truly found himself at his wit’s end.
By the time they arrived at the port, the ship had long departed from the dock. The boy dismounted his horse and demanded that the sailors bring the ship back to port. Naturally, the sailors paid no heed to a tantrum-throwing child.
And who would take orders from a boy?
The boy grew sour and frustrated, resorting to threats to compel compliance.
Yet, a boy was still just a boy, and his tender age could only carry him so far.
The rough sailors became incensed, and the man had to step in to protect the young king.
And so, their actions led them to their present predicament—alone in the port, just the man and the boy.
The man sighed, running his fingers through his disheveled hair. They, or rather the young king, had departed from the palace without a single word of warning. He was certain that the royal palace was in complete turmoil. The sudden disappearance of the young king would surely prompt the Queen to mobilize troops, believing her son had been abducted.
Yet, as the man recalled her fierce nature, a blush crept across his face.
He was certain that the Queen would sever his head with a single blow. No, in fact, that would be an honorable death. To be dismembered and fed to swine would be a shameful demise.
“Your Majesty, we must contact the royal palace or make our way back to the capital immediately. And… when you meet the Queen, you must speak highly of me, lest I meet my demise!”
Despite the man’s heartfelt plea, he was ignored. The boy stood silently, gazing out at the sea.
“Your… Your Majesty, are you listening? Why do you treat me as inconsequential as a pebble rolling along the street? Oh… I am a dead man. The Queen shall have my head…” the man thought despondently, his sorrow flowing freely as tears welled in his eyes.
“Basil,” the boy spoke.
The man, Basil, quickly looked up, his heart brimming with joy. The young king had finally come to his senses.
“Yes! Your Majesty, are we returning to the palace?” Basil beamed, his smile reaching his ears.
“Are you out of your mind?” Igor clicked his tongue. “Why don’t you go back alone?”
“But… Your Majesty…”
Basil’s heart was stabbed, his suggestion outright ignored. However, he could not defy the young king’s command. He was ordered to leave. Basil turned on his heel and walked away from Igor.
With Basil dismissed, Igor gazed at the ship, now a mere speck on the horizon. The dark blue waves swelled and erased any trace of the vessel. Igor saw nothing but the expanse of endless blue sea and the white canvas of the sky.
Gently pressing his lips together, Igor let out a sigh.
“Haaah…” He exhaled with a touch of lament, as several birds soared overhead. Before he knew it, the sky painted itself with hues of orange and gold, stretching far and wide.
Igor observed the sea, lost in the rhythmic melody of waves crashing against the port. His eyes remained fixed on the horizon, his face bathed in the final rays of orange before twilight summoned the stars.
As the darkness gradually subsided, a mournful melody filled the air—the song of a woman yearning for her lover who had set sail.
Igor extended his hand toward the heavens, his gaze fixed on the dense clouds and the birds freely traversing the sky. They fluttered through the ever-changing tapestry of dawn, as if their wings were delicate quills, tracing vibrant hues. The aerial dance transformed the wings into the colors of dreams.
Igor examined his hand, which held a gleaming golden feather.
Ever since awakening from a deep slumber a few days prior, thoughts and emotions about finding this feather had incessantly consumed his mind. He did not understand why.
His thumb caressed the feather’s crimson hue, his purple eyes glistening in the fading sunlight. And then, his countenance assumed a resolute determination.
The young king turned around and shouted loudly, “Basil, let us return to the palace!”
The man fixed the boy with a gaze full of theatrical flair. His options were dwindling, a fact he was acutely aware of, causing him to groan and fumble for a bag hanging from his waist. He extended it tentatively, his lips contorting into a clumsy, lopsided smile aimed at the weathered and rough sailors.
“Ah, let us not indulge in such theatrics, shall we? How about we calm ourselves first? My boy… I mean, the little lad, he simply lost his temper, that’s all. No need to be on edge. Here’s an offering as a token of my apology.” He chuckled nervously, emitting a belch as he extended his hand.
The sailors, their faces etched with grim and haunting expressions, suddenly brightened at the sound of coins jingling within the bulky bag. One sailor swiftly seized the bag from the man’s grasp.
“Aye, I concur. Let us settle this like true men,” declared one of the sailors. “You ought to teach that lad discipline, my friend, else he’ll meet an untimely demise.”
“Ha-ha, indeed…” the man chuckled apprehensively.
The sailor glanced at his companions over his shoulder, seeking their agreement.
“We’re not angry, are we?” he inquired.
“No, not at all! I was merely pondering whether the lad had lost his wits,” replied another sailor. “All is well. We’re good here.”
The rest nodded vigorously in agreement. At some point, someone suggested they retire to the tavern for a drink, and so they did, ultimately succumbing to the intoxicating allure of spirits.
Only the man and the boy remained on the desolate dock.
The man wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and observed the boy, who gazed pensively at the vast expanse of the azure sea. “Your Majesty, pray tell, what is transpiring? I am as bewildered as a bee without nectar! Shed light upon this enigma, Your Majesty.”
A few days prior, at the break of dawn, the young king had burst through the man’s door, demanding that he dress hastily and prepare for a swift departure. Without explanation, they mounted their horses and galloped due south, leaving no time for questions.
They had been traveling for days without rest or sustenance, and the man’s hunger gnawed at him fiercely. He beseeched the young king for a brief respite, noting that their steeds required rest, lest they perish from overexertion.
The young king nodded in agreement, and at long last, they took a momentary pause.
The man sighed with relief, a smile playing on his lips.
Thereafter, they entered a nearby inn, hurriedly partaking in a meal while eavesdropping on the conversation between two commoners.
“Hey, have you heard what’s transpiring in the nobleman’s estate?”
“Are you referring to Count Alessin?”
“Yes, precisely.”
“Indeed. I heard his wife recently passed away. Rumor has it he left the funeral early, without even witnessing the burial. And it seems he had an illegitimate child from an extramarital affair. As soon as his wife died, he brought the child into his home, but his legitimate daughter cast them both out as if it were nothing.”
“Hmm, how did that come to pass?”
“The legal daughter did not wish to have a child from another woman residing in the family mansion.”
“But how is that possible? Why would the Count, with his title and all, be ousted from his own house by his own daughter?”
“I heard the late Countess hailed from noble royal lineage. Her properties were bestowed as her dowry. In the marriage contract, it was stipulated that should she pass away, her designated heir would be her own child. Thus, the Count had no claim to his wife’s possessions.”
“God, to be expelled by his own daughter. What a disgrace!”
“However, the Count has a determined daughter. He need not worry about her future.”
“Indeed, that’s precisely why I cannot fathom having a daughter. God, I can only imagine the challenges one would face. But if I were to have a daughter, she would unquestioningly obey. I cannot abide a child running amok.”
The innkeeper’s wife busied herself stirring a pot as the two men reveled in the latest scandal.
“What is wrong with you?” she snapped irritably. “What kind of father brings home a child from another woman as soon as his wife dies? It speaks volumes about his character!”
“What load of rubbish are you spouting, you ignorant woman! If the Countess had fulfilled her wifely duties properly, he would not have needed to seek solace elsewhere!”
“What? So this is the woman’s fault? Ugh, you do not deserve my food. Spit it all out, you damn rascals!”
Ladles clattered and plates soared through the air, turning the inn into a boisterous scene. Meanwhile, in a corner, a boy and a man sat silently, indulging in their meal.
“You best keep a vigilant eye on your nether regions, lest you find yourself bereft of manhood!” a woman exclaimed, her anger palpable.
“Aye, curse you, woman!” one man retorted, swiftly shielding his lower region.
“The young lady is preparing to depart from the estate and embark on the ship to Crichton,” the woman informed them. “What say you join me? We shall personally inform the young lady of how you dishonor her mother’s grave!”
“I spit on yer’ mother’s grave!” the man fired back.
The boy froze, his fork slipping from his grasp. He sprang to his feet and approached the rowdy table.
“What did you say? The young lady, she’s leaving Arundell?” the boy questioned anxiously.
The man and woman appeared somewhat puzzled by the boy’s sudden appearance, yet they shared what they knew.
“Kid, I heard it from a relative working in the mansion,” the man disclosed.
“The young lady sold off some properties and land, then secured a ticket from Salerno Port to Crichton. They departed this afternoon…” the woman added.
Before they could finish, the boy dashed out of the inn. The man, the boy’s servant, choked on his meal, left with no choice but to follow the boy’s lead.
“Your Majesty, wh… where are we headed?”
No matter how many times he asked, the boy offered no response. The sudden change in the boy’s demeanor perplexed him as well. He had always been stubborn and possessed a touch of a volatile temper, but never before had he treated his subordinates with such coldness…
The man truly found himself at his wit’s end.
By the time they arrived at the port, the ship had long departed from the dock. The boy dismounted his horse and demanded that the sailors bring the ship back to port. Naturally, the sailors paid no heed to a tantrum-throwing child.
And who would take orders from a boy?
The boy grew sour and frustrated, resorting to threats to compel compliance.
Yet, a boy was still just a boy, and his tender age could only carry him so far.
The rough sailors became incensed, and the man had to step in to protect the young king.
And so, their actions led them to their present predicament—alone in the port, just the man and the boy.
The man sighed, running his fingers through his disheveled hair. They, or rather the young king, had departed from the palace without a single word of warning. He was certain that the royal palace was in complete turmoil. The sudden disappearance of the young king would surely prompt the Queen to mobilize troops, believing her son had been abducted.
Yet, as the man recalled her fierce nature, a blush crept across his face.
He was certain that the Queen would sever his head with a single blow. No, in fact, that would be an honorable death. To be dismembered and fed to swine would be a shameful demise.
“Your Majesty, we must contact the royal palace or make our way back to the capital immediately. And… when you meet the Queen, you must speak highly of me, lest I meet my demise!”
Despite the man’s heartfelt plea, he was ignored. The boy stood silently, gazing out at the sea.
“Your… Your Majesty, are you listening? Why do you treat me as inconsequential as a pebble rolling along the street? Oh… I am a dead man. The Queen shall have my head…” the man thought despondently, his sorrow flowing freely as tears welled in his eyes.
“Basil,” the boy spoke.
The man, Basil, quickly looked up, his heart brimming with joy. The young king had finally come to his senses.
“Yes! Your Majesty, are we returning to the palace?” Basil beamed, his smile reaching his ears.
“Are you out of your mind?” Igor clicked his tongue. “Why don’t you go back alone?”
“But… Your Majesty…”
Basil’s heart was stabbed, his suggestion outright ignored. However, he could not defy the young king’s command. He was ordered to leave. Basil turned on his heel and walked away from Igor.
With Basil dismissed, Igor gazed at the ship, now a mere speck on the horizon. The dark blue waves swelled and erased any trace of the vessel. Igor saw nothing but the expanse of endless blue sea and the white canvas of the sky.
Gently pressing his lips together, Igor let out a sigh.
“Haaah…” He exhaled with a touch of lament, as several birds soared overhead. Before he knew it, the sky painted itself with hues of orange and gold, stretching far and wide.
Igor observed the sea, lost in the rhythmic melody of waves crashing against the port. His eyes remained fixed on the horizon, his face bathed in the final rays of orange before twilight summoned the stars.
As the darkness gradually subsided, a mournful melody filled the air—the song of a woman yearning for her lover who had set sail.
Igor extended his hand toward the heavens, his gaze fixed on the dense clouds and the birds freely traversing the sky. They fluttered through the ever-changing tapestry of dawn, as if their wings were delicate quills, tracing vibrant hues. The aerial dance transformed the wings into the colors of dreams.
Igor examined his hand, which held a gleaming golden feather.
Ever since awakening from a deep slumber a few days prior, thoughts and emotions about finding this feather had incessantly consumed his mind. He did not understand why.
His thumb caressed the feather’s crimson hue, his purple eyes glistening in the fading sunlight. And then, his countenance assumed a resolute determination.
The young king turned around and shouted loudly, “Basil, let us return to the palace!”
