The False Prince (7 page)

M
ott escorted me back inside Farthenwood. It was clear that his orders were to see I was never left alone. He described to me in detail how the copy of Jaron’s sword had been forged only off a drawing Conner’s father once made from memory, since Jaron’s sword had been lost when his ship was attacked. I cared nothing about the story and didn’t even pretend to listen.

“I should probably go back to the dining room,” I mumbled.

“You’re sweaty now. A gentleman would never enter a dining room smelling as you and I do.”

“Then where?”

“Back to your room. Roden and Tobias will join you before too long.”

“There’s nothing to do in my room.”

“Get some sleep. Tomorrow begins your training for Conner’s plan, and I assure you it will be exhausting.”

“Are you going to chain yourself to me again?”

He smiled. “Of course not. But your room will be guarded. If you try to escape, the vigil will catch you and then notify me. Please believe me when I say you don’t want to disturb my sleep for a second night in a row.”

“Are you one of Conner’s servants too?” I asked Mott. “Does he own you?”

“I serve him, but he doesn’t own me. My father worked for his father, so it was natural I should work for the son. I believe in him, Sage. I hope in time you’ll believe in him too.”

“He killed Latamer. After telling him he was free to go, he killed him.”

“To be technical, Cregan killed Latamer, although it was on Conner’s orders.” Mott was silent for a moment, then said, “Master Conner is not aspiring to be a priest and asks for no hero worship. But he is a patriot, Sage, doing what he believes is best for Carthya. Latamer never should’ve been chosen to come with us. It was better that he die than fail in the challenges over these next two weeks.”

“I think Conner wanted us to see him kill Latamer. Then we’d know how serious he is about this plan.”

“Perhaps,” Mott said. “And if that was his idea, then it certainly worked.”

I stopped walking for a moment, forcing Mott to stop and look at me. In a soft voice, I said, “The two boys who don’t get chosen for his plan — is he going to kill them too?”

Mott put his hand on my shoulder and pressed me forward again. “He has to protect the secrecy of his plan. See that you get chosen, Sage.”

Errol was waiting on a bench near my room when we arrived. Mott asked him to take me into my room and assist me with dressing for bed.

“I don’t need help dressing,” I said to them both. “I solved the mystery of how to button a shirt long ago.”

“Help him,” Mott repeated.

Errol looked at me, silently pleading with me to accept the order so he wouldn’t have to face Mott. I sighed loudly enough for Mott to take notice of my annoyance, and then nodded my head at Errol. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Mott waited outside. Errol shut the door and began rummaging through the drawers of my wardrobe while I explored the room. Mrs. Turbeldy could have crammed every boy at the orphanage into a room of this size, and it seemed like a waste of space to have only three beds in here. In sharp contrast to anything I ever experienced at the orphanage, the mattresses on these beds were deep and the blankets thick. Each bed had a small wardrobe beside it, and a desk was near the center of the room, facing a fireplace. The thought that I might never again have to live like I had at the orphanage filled my mind. If only that new life wouldn’t come at such a high price.

“Which is my bed?” I asked.

Errol pointed to one at the far end of the room. “That one.”

“I want this one, near the window.”

“That was meant for Master Roden.”

“
Master
Roden?”

Errol missed the sarcasm. “Yes, sir.”

“Well,
Master
Roden can have my bed. I’m taking this one next to the window.”

“Master Roden has already been informed that this is his bed.”

I pulled the covers apart and then spit on the pillow. “Tell him what I’ve done. If he still wants it, he’ll be sleeping with my spit.”

Errol smiled. “Yes, sir. Are you ready to dress?”

I held out my arms and let Errol do the work. He worked quickly and quietly, which only made me feel more ridiculous.

“Errol, while we ate, there was a server girl. About my age, dark hair, dark eyes.”

“Her name is Imogen, sir. She came to us a year ago.”

“How?”

“Conner raised the rent on her family’s home. They fell further and further into debt. Conner made an offer for Imogen to come work the debt off, though with the high rates on her family’s home, she never will.”

“Why her?”

“Most of us think it’s revenge. Imogen’s mother is widowed. Conner proposed marriage to her years ago, but she refused. Some believe he wanted Imogen here so he could marry her instead when she became of age, but he quickly lost interest and assigned her to the kitchen.”

“Why?”

“She’s a mute, sir. Not particularly bright, either. She performs her duties but will never be anything more than a kitchen servant. There, you’re dressed.”

I laughed as I looked down at my nightclothes. Maybe I was too accustomed to sleeping in my clothes, but I felt overdressed.

“What’s this?” I asked, tugging at the outer garment.

“A robe. You’ll remove this before actually getting into the bed.”

“But I’m right here. I’m three steps from my bed.”

Errol smiled again. Something about me frequently amused him. “Would you like me to remove the robe for you?”

“No. I’ll do it myself.”

“Can I do anything else for you tonight?”

“Where are my clothes I came here with?”

“I saved them for you, sir. They’re being washed.”

“They didn’t need to be washed.”

Errol coughed. “I assure you they did, but I’ll keep them just as they were otherwise.” He busied himself with folding my clothes from the afternoon. “When they’re returned to your drawer, will I have anything in return?”

If he was hoping for a reward now, he’d be disappointed. I nodded curtly at him. “When they’re in my drawer, you will. You can go now, Errol. Tell the others to come in quietly because I’ll be asleep.”

Errol closed the doors of my wardrobe. I saw Mott peek in at me while the doors were opened, but when they closed I was finally alone.

I opened the window, intending to climb out, but stopped as the cool evening breeze brushed against my face. Now the emotions washed over me like a tide. Conner’s plan was worse than I’d anticipated, and no matter what Mott had said, I knew I wasn’t up to the challenge. I looked out into the dark night and wondered how long it would take me to run the length of Conner’s property. Beyond that was a river that would mask my escape. I could walk all night and for as long as it took until I got to Avenia, to freedom.

But I couldn’t do it. Now that I knew his secret, Conner would never stop hunting me down. I was trapped here. And my choice was clear. Become the prince, or he’d kill me.

T
he next morning, my eyes opened before the servants came to wake us. The soft pastel light of morning seeped through the window at a low angle, so it must have been very early. I lay in bed for several seconds, orienting myself to the unfamiliar feelings of warmth and comfort. Then I remembered where I was and the strange game I was caught up in. The reality was stark and cold. I sat up in bed to have a better look outside.

“You awake too?” Roden asked quietly.

“Couldn’t sleep any longer.”

“I hardly slept at all.” There was silence for a moment, then Roden asked, “What do you think happens to those boys Conner doesn’t choose?”

Neither of us lingered too long on the convenience of speaking of “those boys,” as if they were strangers. After a slow exhale, I said, “You know the answer.”

Roden sighed as if he had hoped I’d have something better to offer. “The saddest thing is there won’t be anyone to miss us when we’re gone. No family, no friends, no one waiting at home.”

“It’s better that way,” I said. “It’ll be easier for me, knowing my death doesn’t add to anyone’s pain.”

“If you can’t give anyone pain, then you can’t give them joy either.” Roden clasped his hands behind his head and stared up at the plaster ceiling. “We’re nobodies, Sage. I should’ve left the orphanage months ago, but I couldn’t do it. With no education or skills, there was nothing for me on the outside. How would I have earned my keep?”

“Tobias would be fine on his own,” I said. “He could work in a trade or open a shop. He’d probably have been pretty successful.”

“What were your plans?” Roden asked.

I shrugged. “Everything for me was just staying alive for another week.” The irony struck me as funny. “Now I just have to live out the next two weeks.”

“Conner has to choose me,” Roden said. “It’s not about becoming king or anything — we all know it’s Conner who’ll have the power. But for me, it might be my only chance in life. I know that sounds harsh because of what it means for you and Tobias, but that’s just how I feel. You know the other day when you nearly got away from us in the wagon?”

“Yeah.”

“I wish you’d have made it. And if you have the chance to run sometime in the next two weeks, I think you should take it.”

“Good to know, Roden.” He’d like things to be that easy.

“Why don’t you two talk a little louder and maybe you can wake the entire estate?” Tobias said with a groan.

“Hush,” I said. “Soon as they know we’re awake, we’ll get people in here.”

Tobias sat up on one arm. “You and Roden have been chatting like old friends all this time and now you tell me to hush?”

“Hush,” Roden said.

Tobias lay back down. “I wonder what Conner has planned for us today.”

“We have two weeks to learn everything Prince Jaron would know,” Roden said. “I think this might be the last moment of quiet we’ll have until then.”

“It’s really not a bad plan,” Tobias said. “Conner’s right. This might be the only way to save Carthya.”

“It’s an insult to the real prince,” I said. “When this is discovered — and we all know that one day it will be — what we are doing here will be worse than treason. For a nobody orphan to pretend to be a prince? Who do we think we are?”

“Calm down,” Tobias said. “Who says it will be discovered one day? Conner will be there at every step to guide us. He has to, because he’ll hang, too, if we’re found out.”

“None of us is a perfect fit to what the prince should look like now,” I continued. “Not to mention that two weeks isn’t nearly enough time to learn everything he would know, whether Conner’s there or not. If we three stick together, he can’t force us to do this.”

“But I want to do it.” Tobias sat up and swung his feet out of bed. “You two can lie around if you want, but I intend to start learning what I need to as soon as possible.”

He surprised the servants in the hallway, who insisted they had been waiting for us, though their sleepy eyes said otherwise. Errol dug into the drawers of my wardrobe, stifling a yawn.

“You can go back to bed if you want,” I told him. “I’m fine here.”

“You don’t give the orders,” Errol reminded me. “Conner does. Your clothes will be more casual today, to allow for the afternoon activities.”

Reluctantly, I rolled out of bed so I could get dressed and Errol could get lost. I made Errol stand there while I dressed myself, although he insisted on inspecting me when it was finished. “Not to offend you,” he said as I fumbled with a buckle, “but it’s obvious you’ve never dressed in clothes such as these.”

I smiled. “If I have my way, I won’t have to dress in them much longer.”

Mott was waiting for us as we left the bedroom. He informed Tobias that he’d be working with a tutor in the library while Roden and I were trained in the basics of reading and writing upstairs in a room that had long ago been converted from a nursery. Tobias smirked at us as his servant escorted him away. He probably figured that being more educated gave him an advantage with Conner, and he was probably right. Roden whispered to me that he wouldn’t want to study with Tobias anyway. I agreed.

Our tutor was a man who instructed us to call him Master Graves, an appropriate name since he looked more like a grave-digger than a teacher. He was tall and thin as a shovel with pale skin and limp black hair that he combed in a way to make it appear as though he had more hair than he really did. I immediately decided to dislike him. Roden, however, seemed to be keeping an open mind about whether he was in fact a member of the walking dead. At least, when I whispered this possibility to Roden, he smothered a grin and quickly told me to hush.

Master Graves directed Roden and me to sit in chairs that were clearly intended for small children and faced a chalkboard. He began to write the alphabet, and then said to me, “I told you to sit down and we’ll get started.”

Roden looked up. He was already seated with his knees halfway up his chest.

I folded my arms resolutely. “I’m not sitting in a chair meant for a five-year-old. Get me a real chair.”

Master Graves arched his head so that he could better look down on me. “You are Sage, obviously. I was warned about you. Young man, do not mistake me for one of Conner’s servants. I am a gentleman and a scholar, and I will have your respect. You will sit in the chair I have available.”

Since he was clearly still around to keep me from running away, I called for Mott to come in. When he ducked his head in the room, I said, “Master Graves thinks he’s not one of Conner’s servants. But you are. I need a chair.”

“You have one,” he said, nodding to the one beside Roden.

“It’s too small. I can’t learn that way.”

“Too bad. Sit down.”

“Okay, but when Roden and I don’t learn our letters, you can explain to Conner why.”

Mott sighed and left the room. He returned several minutes later with a larger chair in each hand. Master Graves was incensed and said, as punishment for my disruption, I would have to write my letters an extra ten times that day.

“Ten times the better I’ll know them, then,” I said. “How strange that you should punish me by ensuring I come out more educated than Roden, who has tried to obey you.”

Graves’s knuckles were nearly as white as the chalk when he began instructing us on the sounds of the letters. Roden actually seemed interested and tried hard to keep up with Graves. I fell asleep around the letter
M
.

Graves was gone when Mott shook me awake some time later. “He called you incorrigible,” Mott said. “Honestly, Sage, are you trying to fail?”

“I already told you I could read a little. This morning was a waste of my time.”

“I thought it was great.” Roden sounded happier than I’d ever heard him. “I never expected to be able to read, and Master Graves said he’ll have me in a children’s reader by tomorrow.”

“Great. Let me know what the children’s reader has to say about impersonating a prince.”

Earlier that morning, servants had brought us a small breakfast of hard-boiled eggs and milk to eat while we studied. With such a paltry beginning, it was no surprise that both Roden and I were already hungry again.

“You’ll eat after your next lessons,” Mott said.

“What lessons?” I asked.

“History of Carthya. Then a lunch. Then you’ll do sword fighting, horseback riding, dinner and etiquette with the master, and tonight you will study in preparation for your lessons tomorrow.”

Roden slapped me on the shoulder. “He’ll make gentlemen of us yet!”

I nodded but stayed silent. The thought of what Conner was making us into deserved no celebration.