It was sunset when Smalls next saw Kyle. It was later after his conversation with Evan, and he had been at the Standing Stones and was just beginning to head back to his room for another sleepless night when Kyle came up suddenly.
“I know who you are.” Smalls’ first reaction to Kyle’s proclamation was skepticism. He doubted that Kyle knew anything, and was more than ready to spin a crazy story out of whatever crazy conspiracy theory he was about to hear about himself. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it. Why Kyle had chosen to confront him in the first place was an utter mystery to him. “You’re one of Jupiter’s sons.” Never mind. Kyle knew much more than Smalls had thought. “That’s true, isn’t it?”
“What if it is?” Smalls said at last.
“Then I’d want to know why you’ve been lying about it.”
“I haven’t lied, necessarily.”
“You haven’t told the truth.”
Smalls eyed Kyle warily. He trusted the buck about as much as he liked him. “What will you do?”
Kyle’s eyes flitted around. “Nothing. I can keep a secret.”
Smalls didn’t doubt it. “Then why ask?”
“I’m curious. Like I said before.”
“You don’t know me.”
Kyle shrugged. “Does that stop me from being curious?”
“You can be curious, but that doesn’t mean you’ll receive answers.” Smalls said, and he turned to leave. Kyle grabbed his arm.
Smalls tensed, guard slamming up. “You aren’t the heir, are you?” Kyle asked, his voice dropping to a low volume. Smalls shook his hand off.
“No. I’m not that son.” And he turned, and walked away.
More weeks passed. Spring went by and the early touches of summer sprang into full sway, muddying the air with humidity and setting the temperature higher and higher. Smalls began to talk with Kyle more. Not necessarily because he wanted to, but because the buck didn’t give him much of a choice. Kyle seemed to know much more than he should, and Smalls was suspicious and wary. Evan told him he was being paranoid. Maybe Kyle had been in another citadel before where Smalls hadn’t been hiding so extensively who he was, and when Kyle admitted he’d been raised in Kingston, Smalls relaxed a bit. They’d known he was a prince there. Maybe that was all it was. Smalls decided to give Kyle the benefit of the doubt. Not everyone is out to get you, He reminded himself. But something about Kyle still bothered him.
“You just don’t like him because he talks to Heather.” Evan deduced. “He’s harmless.” It wasn’t that. Okay, maybe it was a little bit of that, but there was more. Kyle was lying about something. And Smalls didn’t like it. Something was wrong, off, about this rabbit. Smalls just couldn’t figure out what.
“Is everything okay?” Smalls jumped at the sound of Heather’s voice. They were in the library. Heather had somehow managed to figured out every single one of his hiding places. Smalls couldn’t decide whether he liked that or not yet. “I saw you over here.” Heather gestured vaguely around. “I thought that maybe I’d come and say hello. May I sit down?”
“Of course.” There was quiet for a long time. Smalls enjoyed it. While avoiding Heather did, certainly, put him on edge, once he was actually around her, he relaxed. Her presence had a calming effect. He didn’t want to spoil it by saying the wrong thing.
“Is something bothering you?” Heather asked tentatively. Smalls tensed again, because there certainly was something bothering him, but he couldn’t explain to Heather what that was.
“No.” He said. But lying to her felt wrong. A minute later he corrected. “Yes.” He slumped.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Heather offered.
“I-” He looked down. “I can’t.”
Heather didn’t protest, she only nodded, a bit sad but not angry. “Would it be easier to not talk?”
Smalls fiddled with the pommel of his sword. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell Heather, in fact, he wanted to tell her desperately, but he couldn’t. It would endanger her and endanger him, and neither of those things sounded nice. But it brought him pain to lie, even if it was necessary.
“She’s endangered just by being around you.” The cynical voice whispered. “You know that.”
“Yes.” He said, finally responding to her question. She nodded.
I’ll tell her the truth someday, He promised himself, gazing at her a moment while she turned a page in a book. Soon. And it’ll be soon. Maybe then he’d have enough courage to-No. Don’t go there. Not yet. So, he just enjoyed being with her. That was enough. That would have to be enough.
Smalls did not appreciate being woken at two A.M. He mumbled a not-so-nice word in the person’s general direction, and turned over, still being half-asleep.
“Aw now, that isn’t language you’re supposed to use.” Evan said, grinning. “C’mon. Rake’s calling a meeting in half an hour.” Smalls sat up and shot a glare at his brother. Childish, sure, but based on the clock he’d gotten only about an hour of sleep. Sigh. “Wilfred’ll tell you to fix your attitude if you don’t fix it now.”
“I’m not in the mood, Evan.”
“I can tell.” Evan said, sliding out the door. “Half an hour. Be glad I woke you.” Smalls shut the door in his face.
“I hate night meetings.” Smalls muttered.
“They’re not fun.” Evan mumbled in agreement, yawning. “But, well, you get why they do them. I mean, they’re necessary at this point.”
“Yes.” Smalls admitted reluctantly. He really did understand, but he still wished they didn’t have to happen. Sometimes, however, privacy was essential, and the level of confidentiality needed could only be achieved at night long after everyone else was asleep. “When was this scheduled?”
Evan shrugged. “Wilfred woke me and told me to wake you. That’s about all I know.” They walked on for a while.
“We’re not going to Rake’s gathering room.” Smalls remarked.
“No. We’re headed for the Votaries’ quarters, apparently even Rake’s own daughter isn’t allowed to be in on this. Well, his ward. Whatever you want to call her.” He glanced down, brow furrowed. “Yes, before you ask, yes. And no, I didn’t know before you. Wilfred told me last night.” He looked up and grinned. “Turns out my baby brother isn’t the baby anymore.”
“By a year-” Smalls began, offended.
“Ah. I thought that that was you two I heard.” Wilfred said, voice much too pleasant for two-thirty in the morning. “Nice to know you’re awake and well.”
“He’s grumpy.” Evan said, jabbing a thumb at Smalls.
“I’m not.” Smalls assured Wilfred.
Wilfred shook his head. “Don’t act like savages. Please. They know I raised you.” Evan gave Wilfred a smirk that was not at all reassuring. Smalls shot him a look. “Oh, how you remind me of him.” Wilfred muttered, rubbing his face. Evan and Smalls exchanged looks. Evan shrugged, mouthing Jupiter at Smalls. Smalls wished that name didn't haunt him.
Wilfred pushed open the door to the Votaries’ main meeting hall. It was large, and filled with long benches. At the front stood a platform with a speaker’s podium. They held services two days every week, but that was only the bare minimum. In the First Warren, there were services every night.
Usually, the services pointed forward to the day when rabbitkind and, truthfully, the whole world would be freed from evil. They used texts like Fay’s book and other seer’s visionary writings to instill hope in that day and remind the people that even if they didn’t win now, they would someday.
Smalls couldn’t predict or understand how all of the foulness would be gotten rid of, only that it would happen sometime soon. It was hard to accept and be patient sometimes, but they all managed.
Worrying about tomorrow would not ease the burden of today.
Speaking of today…... Smalls turned into a room off of the main chamber, and discovered Rake, Pacer, Blackstar, and a few other lords. They all looked exhausted.
“Ah. Now we can begin.” Rake said, holding up a hand to silence the talking, which hadn’t been much to begin with.
Smalls sensed eyes on him.
He didn’t like it. But he didn’t show that, either.
“Why are they here?” Blackstar said warily.
“That will be explained.” Rake replied. Blackstar nodded, brow furrowed, and sat down. He didn’t look particularly hostile, just…..on edge. Like everyone else. “This, as I’m sure you all know, is Wilfred Longtreader.”
“What about the two kids?” A captain Smalls didn’t know asked. Frye was not there, nor was Halfwind’s lord. Rake gave the captain a cool look.
“That is Smalden and Evander Joveson, king Jupiter’s youngest sons.”
“Perfect.” The captain muttered. “That’s what we need. More teenage petty royals.” Smalls could sense Evan bristling behind him, and shook his head subtly. This was a bad time to get angry.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss.” Rake said. He glanced at Wilfred, as if waiting. Smalls stepped forward and sat down, Evan close to follow.
“Smalden,” Blackstar said, as if trying to recall where he had heard that name before, “You visited Kingston once, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” Smalls replied. “About four years ago.” Blackstar nodded, a look of recognition appearing on his face.
“You were there during that attack. You’ve grown.”
“Not much.” Evan mumbled under his breath. Smalls resisted the urge to kick him under the table. Blackstar turned to examine Evan.
“You I haven’t met. Repeat your name?”
“Evan Joveson, Lieutenant under lord Ronan. I was at Kingston too, sir. Smalls and I pranked Heyna that one time.” He replied promptly. Blackstar scrutinized him for a minute.
Smalls felt like banging his head against the table.
“Just how old are you, princeling?” Blackstar asked, a long-suffering look appearing in his eyes as he clearly remembered the incident Evan was speaking of.
“I turned seventeen last March, lord.”
“And you?” Blackstar asked again, directing the question, this time, at Smalls.
Smalls shifted slightly, and then answered, “I was sixteen last month.” Blackstar’s eyebrows raised, but he made no complaint. There was dead silence for a long moment. Okay. I get it. I don’t look like I’m sixteen. Can we move on now? Rake cleared his throat.
“We have three things to attend to tonight; all of you here were part of the committee that organized the hiding of the old king’s children after his death.” There was a nod and a general consensus from everyone except Smalls and Evan, who had been the ones hidden at the time and had little to no memory of the incident whatsoever. “But myself and Wilfred are the only two who knew where the heir was specifically hidden.”
Evan let out a snort of laughter that quickly was turned into a cough.
Wilfred shot him a look.
“And finally, the congress.”
More nods and mutters of agreement.
“What about king Jupiter’s children has suddenly become so important?” Blackstar said. “Unless you’re planning on revealing who the heir is tonight, this won’t help anything. Half the citadels are at war with each other and, to be frank, don’t appear keen on stopping anytime soon.”
Rake looked down a minute. “We…..” He paused, and glanced again at Wilfred, who shrugged.
“I told you about my opinion on this before.”
Smalls was beginning to grow slightly irritated. It was him they were talking about, even if only half the room knew it. He should have the right to have some say in it.
“Will not be revealing the heir tonight.” Rake said at last. “It is still crucial, that, for safety, he remains hidden for the time being. Perhaps after the Citadel congress, we can discuss more.”
“Does he even have the Green Ember?” The captain from before asked skeptically.
“He does, and that is all I will say, Brafficks. Where is Hews?”
“Dead.” Brafficks said gruffly. “I was sent here in his son’s place.”
Silence followed.
“Send our condolences.” Rake said after a minute. “And wish Hewson good luck.”
Brafficks nodded.
“There’s always Winslow.” Blackstar said at last. Evan’s eyes narrowed into a glare, and Smalls’ fists clenched under the table. “You don’t like that.” Blackstar said, glancing around. “But it is an option. And an option many are willing to follow. It is, after all, tradition.”
“Tradition is not always followed.” Smalls said. “Winslow is half-mad. He’s been over the edge for years. I wouldn’t trust him by himself, let alone ruling.”
“He’s right.” Evan agreed. “He does anything Daggler tells him, torture, violence, war. He’s a corrupt puppet and a fool. I would die before seeing him on my father’s throne.” Rake, Brafficks, and Blackstar exchanged looks.
“He isn’t wrong.” Wilfred said after a pause. “Winslow is controlled by Daggler, who in extension is controlled by Falcowit. He’s dangerous and unpredictable. He would not be a good leader.”
“Then who?” Blackstar asked, frustration permeating his voice. “It’s been thirteen years, Wilfred. Thirteen. I’m beginning to give up hope. How can we have faith in anything anymore? Either our kings or the Mended Wood?” He shook his head. “I am not the only one who feels this way.” He gestured around the room. “We are told to have hope in things greater than us-but where is that now? Jupiter is dead, he’s a faded fantasy, and an exaggerated one at that.”
“I understand, Victor, I do. But-”
“But despite that,” Blackstar continued, “He was our friend. Wilfred, you should know that better than any of us! You were closest with him-one of his longest standing friends, known since childhood. How can you just stand by and watch as his legacy is laid to ruin?”
Silence.
“Victor,” Wilfred began, and his tone was clipped in a way that Smalls recognized as checked anger. “We all have gone through the last thirteen years. I have no right to speak for the heir. He is old enough to decide for himself; that is why we keep this secret still. Imagine if one of your own children was in this circumstance, what would you do?”
“I would give them the choice.” Blackstar replied reluctantly. “Within reason.”
“Why not allow the same privilege?”
“Because we need the heir now. Or soon, at least. Sometimes sacrifices need to be made, sentiment put aside, and unless you have a genius idea to unite the citadels, we will all die.”
He’d said the quiet part out loud, and a heavy tension descended as a result.
“The minute we give up hope is when we are doomed.” Smalls replied quietly. “No one here-aside from Wilfred, Evan, and myself-has been in the old Capital since it’s fall. If you want to see real hopelessness, real death, then go there. It won’t disappoint.”
“Don’t presume to tell me what death is, boy,” Blackstar spat, anger sparking in his eyes. “I fought in wars that happened before you were born!”
The room erupts into dismay, and Evan is on his feet, temper flashing. “Don’t speak to my brother that way-”
“Sit down! Everyone sit down!” Wilfred roared.
“Calm your temper, princeling, before it bests you!” Blackstar snapped.
“I’d rather not, thank you.” Evan retorted.
He glanced at Smalls, and Smalls sensed the words even before Evan said them.
“He’s the heir to our father’s throne and I won’t listen to disrespect!”
Wilfred’s going to kill us.
The entire room froze, all eyes on Smalls, waiting for his reaction. Evan’s fist slammed onto the table as he sat back down. Smalls looked at him, and Evan shrugged, snatching at the cup in front of him and downing the water.
Wilfred swore.
“Are you going to prove it or not?” Evan asked, ignoring Wilfred.
Smalls resisted the urge to smack him. He sighed and glanced around the room, now full of expectant gazes. Inhaling, he reached for the chain around his neck. From the end of it dangled the green ember, in full sight.
Blackstar let out a tired chuckle, collapsing back into his chair. “Longtreaders and Jovesons,” He muttered, “Are going to be the death of me.”
“You wanted to know.” Smalls pointed out.
“You said you were, how old? Sixteen?”
Frustration flared. “What would be enough for you?”
“A miracle.” Blackstar replied dryly.
“Enough.” Rake interrupted. “Victor, you need to cool your head. Infighting, as we have already established, solves no problems.”
“You knew.” Blackstar sighed.
“I was in the capital when Jupiter named his heir, you were fighting hawks at Kingston. It was a simple matter of who was and wasn’t able to be there. However,” Rake paused, looking directly at Evan and Smalls. Evan shifted. “I was not expecting Evander to be so forthright.”
“Nor was I.” Wilfred muttered, glaring at Evan.
“But the larger problem we now have is what to do about it. The congress begins tomorrow, and this could set the whole of Natalia on it’s head. '
“I agree.” Blackstar nodded. “Which is why I think, now, we should wait. This is delicate.”
“Was I not just saying that?” Wilfred wondered, voice just loud enough that Rake could shoot a glare at him.
“What do you think, Smalden?” Rake asked. “Most directly, this affects you.”
“We ought to wait.” Smalls replied. “I’ve seen the kind of hostility there is towards Wilfred and the other Longtreaders, and the Congress has everyone on high alert. Tensions are too high right now. Already, there are citadels that support my older brother and others who would do away with the monarchy altogether, but have no plans of what to replace it with. Upsetting the tension anymore than it has already been upset could be devastating.”
Rake nodded. “Then that is what we will do. Evander,”
Evan looked up, clearly having already clocked out of the conversation.
“I would advise learning to keep your impulsivity in check.”
Evan nodded, but quite obviously did not take it to heart.
Dustine, when does chapter 19 come out?
This has got to be my favorite chapter now lol
And here I was expecting this to be the chapter where Wilfred finds out about Charity...
Nice use of Captain Brafficks and a reference to Lord Hews! That's one thing I love about reading/writing stories like this: being able to weave concepts that were introduced later in the series into earlier events. You definitely have a unique take on Lord Victor, too. I feel like the actual books rarely show him losing his composure, no matter what pressures he's under or what difficulties he confronts. Of course, that might be because of how Joel Clarkson reads him in the audiobooks.