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“A drought? In Mogochislenia? You must be jesting, Cora. Not only are you numb from being ignored by the prince, but are you also deaf?” asked Razuku incredulously.
“So, they are leaving their continent, not because of persecution? They are leaving because of drought? But what of its forests? There is no way the continent could dry up so quickly,” I wondered.
“They are afraid; they said,” whispered Cora. “One of them told me that a witch burned his hand.”
I could not help it. I chuckled at the thought. Witches used to flee Mogochislenia because of persecution. Now, humans were heading our way because they feared a witch?
“One witch, they say?” I asked.
“One witch. A princess.”
My father knew of Queenspell. He was ecstatic when a queen took over the domain. Could it be her, gone mad and evil? No, Cora said it was a princess. It could be one of her daughters. But how could the apple fall so far from the tree? Even though I did not look or act like my father, we shared the same goals for our people.
I dropped the hoe with which I was tilling the soil and headed towards the new arrivals.
“Good morrow to you, and welcome to Prozeus. How may we help you?”
One of the women looked at me. I saw her nose flare in disgust, but her lips curled with desire. It was the strangest thing. She might have merely been reacting to my bare chest, sweating from the sun and the labor.
“Good morrow. Can you take us to the king?” she asked, her voice trembling with fear and something else. I was not a vain man, but I believed she was slightly appalled with herself for being attracted to me.
She wore a beautiful but faded velvet dress. The rest of the people beside her wore clothes almost in tatters, except for the old man huffing at the back. He wore an expensive tunic and breeches.
“I can take you to the king. I gather that is your father?”
“Yes, that is my father. You shall address him as his lordship. He is a count from Queenspell.”
I tried to hide a smile. I remembered how fixated Mogochislenians were on their royal hierarchies. They would be in for a shock in Arrowspear.
“Come, my lady. I will bring you to the palace. Your father, his lordship, will get some refreshments over there.”
I heard a smothered laugh disguised as a cough coming from Razuku. I wanted to join him in his mirth, but I wanted to play the long game. Moreover, I also wanted to play the benevolent, welcoming host.
Welcome to my kingdom, Mogochislenians, my mind thought. I suspected that the next few days would be amusing. I was like my mother in that way. I could feel when something was about to change. It was like witchcraft, but not really. My mother was not a witch, but she was something else. She was a medium. Spirits could pass through her and speak their truths. She said I had her gift, but I had not seen its full extent yet.
I walked towards our palace with the surefootedness of someone who had lived there all my life. Razuku and Cora walked inches behind me. I could sense the bewilderment of our guests. They were probably wondering how these heathens could simply walk into the palace like they owned it.
I exchanged glances with both of my friends. Their mouths were drawn in thin lines, trying to be serious, but their eyes were dancing. We had been friends all our lives, and we did not have to say anything but still understood each other keenly. It was only Cora’s desire to seduce me that I could never understand.
The servants started bowing before me as soon as we entered the front door. It was not my idea. These were old-fashioned habits that had not yet been eradicated.
“Where is my father?” I asked.
“Your Highness, he is in the throne room.”
“Follow me, lords and ladies. My father, King Doro, will receive you.”
I saw a deep blush on the young lady’s face. I could not help but feel a little shame for my behavior and some satisfaction at letting the Mogochislenians know that the people of Arrowspear were different. We could not abide vanity.
