“Ever’body’s askin’ that. ‘What we comin’ to?’ Seems to me we don’t never come to nothin’. Always on the way.” — John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath

  ???

  The scent of aged whiskey hung in the air, with the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across the walls of Hamilton’s study. The head of House Nightray sat in his chair, nursing a glass of amber ale in one hand, whilst the other held a silver-framed photograph.

  His gaze was distant, with his silver eyes tracing the photo. An immortalised moment of simpler days, back when his beloved wife was still alive, during one of those days when Hamilton had the day free from work, and his wife had coaxed him to go on a picnic. Yulia would have been about a year old at that time, and still trying to get used to walking on her own.

  It would have been one of her last memories of her mother if Yulia still had memories from then, considering how young she had been. Not long after, Hamilton’s beloved wife had passed away bravely defending villagers from bandits, buying enough time for Hamilton and his forces to arrive.

  Hamilton sighed, tracing the face of his wife with his fingertips. “It feels like an eternity since you’ve left us, Selene,” he murmured. “I miss you every single day. And now, trouble seems to be coming for us once more…”

  He placed the photo frame back on his desk at its usual spot, just mere moments before there was a knock on the door, and Gareth stepped in.

  “Gareth,” Hamilton greeted. “Yulia asleep?”

  “Yes, my lord.” Gareth nodded. “So are the twin princes. In separate rooms, though I wouldn’t be surprised if we find Prince Lucien curled up on the floor beside the young miss’s bed come morning.” He looked amused, carrying the air of a man who was long used to watching over children not his own, and refereeing their antics.

  With the amount of teenage drama that occurred in House Nightray on a weekly basis from their members, Gareth had more than enough experience dealing with adolescents and children by now.

  Hamilton gave a small chuckle.

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  “It’s still innocent at this age,” Gareth remarked. “But maybe someone should explain to the prince that a gentleman does not sneak into a lady’s bedchambers, even if she’s the only one that treats him like he matters.” He added. “It’s not only his own reputation that he risks, but also hers.”

  “Knowing my daughter, she would probably cut his hand off if he ever tried anything,” Hamilton muttered with amusement.

  Just the other day, one of the female House members had taken it upon herself to teach Yulia how to defend herself against a man, if necessary. And Hamilton had a feeling that he’s probably better off not knowing the full details of what those ‘lessons’ include.

  Gareth only grinned with amusement. Hamilton chuckled in response, before his tone then turned serious, fixating Gareth with a solemn stare. “I want your honest opinion,” he said at last. “It’s been two months since you became the tutor and arms instructor of the twin princes. What do you make of them?”

  Gareth straightened, the soldier in him responding instinctively. He hesitated for a moment before he sighed. “With your permission, my lord, I would like to speak frankly.” Hamilton nodded. “Prince Lucien had a mind for strategy and tactics, much like the young miss. He is sharp. Dangerous, in the way that good commanders are. Even at this age, he’s not afraid to make the hard calls. But I’ve also seen him choose to protect the weak and helpless over securing victory in mock scenarios when the opportunity allows it. In several ways, he reminds me of the young miss. Calculated. But also ruthless when necessary.”

  Hamilton chuckled. ‘I’ll say that he’s been spending too much time with Yulia.”

  Gareth chuckled. “Indeed,” he agreed. “And it shows. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that he had Nightray blood. Strategy comes to him as naturally as breathing.”

  Hamilton nodded. “And… Prince Rem?” He wanted to know.

  Gareth hesitated. Hamilton can almost see the wheels turning in his retainer’s head, before Gareth sighed. “He’s…soft. Too kind. Gentle. Empathetic,” he said at last. “He will always pick the peaceful route, even in situations where combat is the only viable solution. He’ll try to talk down the enemy, rather than engage in battle. Or surrender territory in the hopes of ending conflict quickly. He would never be a warrior. Or a soldier. Not a good one.”

  Hamilton nodded, letting Gareth continue.

  “Wanting peace isn’t wrong,” Gareth said slowly. “He’s kind, yes. His traits would be admirable in most people. But in a prince, that’s asking for trouble. It’s a recipe for disaster. There’s wisdom in peace, yes. But there’s also weakness in blindness. And right now, Prince Rem had yet to know the difference between the two. He still has no idea how to weigh justice with kindness.”

  Hamilton nodded. He already knew this about both princes even before Gareth had spoken a word, and this only cements it. Rem isn’t a bad person. He’s a good boy. A kind one. But in a member of the royal family, that kindness will be his undoing.

  “If war ever comes to Alathia, it would be Prince Lucien who would be the one standing tall at the end of the day,” Gareth concluded. “Prince Rem would still be trying to negotiate while his men all bled and die around him.” He met Hamilton’s gaze. “Forgive me, my lord. But even at this age, I already know which of the two would make the better general and leader, and the better king. And my vote isn’t with Prince Rem.”

  The retainer sighed. “If…” He swallowed, “If the king makes Prince Rem the Crown Prince, which we both know is only a matter of time, it’ll be a miracle if the kingdom survives. Unlike Prince Lucien, he will not be able to make the hard calls, even with the young miss next to him. House Nightray can only guide and advise him. Ultimately, it’ll be him who has to make the decisions, and I fear that Prince Rem will be unable to make the hard decisions that would be required of him as prince. Let alone as king.” Gareth sighed. “And the people of Alathia, my lord, especially the Ten Great Houses and the soldiers… They won’t follow a king who refuses to protect his own people.”