I beg you to reconsider. It would only be a temporary measure. A mining specialist from the Bovine region has developed a new tool to dig deeper into the mines. By next summer, we'll be able to trade high-quality silver again.

On his way back to his chambers, Sebastian ignored the guards escorting him as much as possible. Glancing away from the loaded bow in front of him, he rubbed his eyes, all sticky and sore. If real men didn't cry, his tears were proof that he wasn't ready to be a man; let alone a King.

In complete silence he marched on, every step bringing him closer to the comfort of his pillow fortress. There, on his windowsill, he could hide from judging eyes deeming him the most pathetic Crown Prince in the history of The Greenlands.

When he, at last, dragged himself into his room, he found the sill empty; all the pillows and blankets had been returned to the bed. He stared at it with an open mouth, unable to utter even the smallest of grumbles.

"Lieutenant Stephen went to fetch Lady Viviane, My Lord. She'll be here shortly. Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?" The guard's gaze was cast to the ground, his shoulders hunched.

"No." His answer came out with a giant sob. All he wanted was to be left alone; the sooner that guard would leave, the better. He clearly didn't want to be here either.

"I will take my leave then. Good night, My Lord."

"Night."

With the little willpower he had left in him, he stripped the blanket off the bed and grabbed the biggest of the pillows to throw them onto the sill. Placing his hands on the cold stone, he pushed himself onto his spot where he dropped down and huddled one of the feather-filled bags.

Seconds lasted minutes, minutes hours as he waited for sleep that never came. In a half-conscious state, he lay there, drowning in a pool of tears and doubts; every shudder more agonising than the one before, as though his uncle's broadsword had pierced his skull and split his soul into two instead of killing that magician.

Fox would have to stay in Silvermark forever. He could never return. If he did, he would have to kill him. How could he ever do that to his best friend?

The fading sunlight peeping right above the horizon brought the concerned voice of Lady Viviane. "My Lord? I heard you're not well. Shall I prepare you for the night?"

"No."

He buried his head deeper into the pillow to muffle his crying, yet even with his eyes closed, he sensed her shadow looming over him.

"My Lord, you can't stay on the sill."

Tough luck. Neither could he erase all of his memories or start his life all over. How blissful it would be to never have to think again, not of Fox, not of Laneby, nor that dreadful execution.

He trembled as he recalled the bone-cracking sound of the sword tearing through human flesh. Not Fox. Never Fox.

"My Lord, are you sure you are alright?"

As her hand brushed his foot, he curled his legs closer to his body. "Yes."

"Poor thing, you don't look well at all." So fussy, just like Mother used to be when he was ill, but she wasn't her. If only she was her. "Shall I get you a healer, or perhaps, your aunt?"

"Just leave me alone!" His voice screeched as the tears took over again. He tapped the sill, looking for the blanket, and pulled it over his head. The only people he wished to see were Mother, Father, and Fox. Even though that was impossible, she still had to leave.

"As you wish, My Lord."

He held his breath until he could no longer feel her presence, and with that exhale came a fresh wave of tears that shook the pillow below his body. Part of him regretted sending her away. He still couldn't fathom that people like Lady Viviane had to obey his orders, even when they made absolutely no sense.

Life in Laneby had been so much better. He had been happy with Mother, Father, his sisters, and his friends. Now nothing would ever be the same again, and there was nothing that anyone could do to change that. Not even the Gods could cure a heartache this painful.

He yanked his belt off to remove his dagger and pressed the sheathed weapon against his cheek. Maybe he was losing his mind, or maybe he desperately wanted it to be true, but if he concentrated hard, the leather still smelled faintly of the woodsmoke of the stove at home.

Squeezed between the wall and some pillows, he stayed beneath the blanket, away from the world and its responsibilities. Tonight it was only him and his dagger; the closest thing to a hug from his parents.

Nobody was allowed to disturb him. Nobody but...

Whispers in the hallway.

"Alex, are you sure we should do this? There's a guard over there. He may be asleep, but we're still trespassing, and His Majesty told us to go to bed."

"If you're going to chicken out about this, the army will be horrible, General Nicolas. Go if you must, but I can't go back to sleep knowing Seb isn't well."

"Alright... alright, but you take the blame if we get caught."

"Don't I always?"

Sebastian turned around and pressed his face against the wall. Though he didn't mind Alex and Nick coming into his room, they weren't allowed to mention as much as Abby's name. He wanted to forget she even existed. It was the only way not to get reminded of his failure to save her.

"Erm... are you sure we've entered the correct room? The bed's all empty, Nick."

"Very sure. Captain Jonathan said our chambers are right below Seb's. And look over there, by the window, the lump beneath the blanket. It can only be him."

The soft padding sound of their bare feet grew louder until it was replaced by Alex moaning as she pushed herself onto the sill. "Seb, it's us. Are you sleeping?"

Once more he held his breath to suppress his snivels, yet deep down he hoped they wouldn't give up as fast as Lady Viviane.

Nick yawned. "It might not be that easy. I once overheard Lady Karen telling Mother that Seb feigns sleep when he's in a bad mood."

Alex muffled a chuckle. "How come you always hear stuff like that?"

"Because nobody pays any attention to the boy lying on the floor, reading."

"I should have known it had something to do with books." Alex's chuckle was clearer now, heavenly even. "Did his mother, by any chance, mention how to get him to stop sulking?"

Sword fighting. Father always caught him in the act, then carried him out of the house—if needed blanket and all—and duelled with him until he was smiling again.

"No, but Lord Brandon always knew when Seb was bluffing. Something with his breathing being off, but I dunno."

Sebastian exhaled deeply. He had been holding his breath for too long.

He was a muttonhead to believe it would fool Alex. She lifted the blanket, her fingers grazing his cheek. "So, it's true. You're awake."

"I don't wanna talk."

"We don't need to talk." A series of moans and groans poured out of Nick's mouth. Something slammed into the wall, possibly his knee, or maybe a foot. It seemed he was climbing onto the sill as well.

"He's right. We're here for you." Alex caressed his arm, then pressed the palm of her hand against his forehead. "But you're very warm and sweaty, Seb. Take off your jacket."

He shrugged, not intending on moving an inch.

"Trust me. You'll feel better," she whispered. "Charlie used to feel feverish too after he'd thrown a tantrum."

"I'm not three years old." Reluctantly, he moved his fingers towards the two top buttons of his jacket and unbuttoned them. It didn't make any difference. His head was still woozy; his muscles still achy and his heart beating way too fast.

"I understand why you don't sleep in the bed." Nick patted a pillow. There was another yawn as he plopped down. "I love what you did to this sill. It's perfect for napping and late-night reading."

If Nick wanted, he could have the room, the title, and the throne for all he cared. He didn't want any of it. With his knowledge of the world, Nick would be a far better King too.

"Come on, Seb. Don't lie there like a washed-up fish." Alex pulled him towards her. "Show me those bright blue eyes of yours."

He shook his head. She couldn't see how much he had cried.

"Or perhaps we should go, Alex. I think he just wants to be left alone. He's not as easy to console as... you know... Fox."

"No! Stay!" He flung himself to Alex, burying his head in her lap and pressing his hands hard against his eyes. "Don't you leave me. Don't you dare leave me too! I can't take it anymore. You need to stay."

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him deep into her embrace. This way she could comfort him without having to see his pathetic face. "Hush, we're here, and we're not going anywhere."

"It's true. We both get to stay here. Alex is going to help the healers, and your uncle asked me if I wanted to become your future General. I said yes, mostly because it's the best way to get through all the books in the library without anybody saying that I should be doing something more useful. I guess I will be at the Academy all day so you won't see me that much, but during the evenings, when I'm not at Billy's, you could always help me with my homework... Oh, Seb, you should ask your uncle to join the army with me. Patrol Laneby, special Sunstone Castle operations, then we can—"

"Nicolas!" Alex grunted. "Shut your cake-hole, Puddingbrain."

"Sorry." Nick cleared his throat. "You know I always start rambling when I don't know what to say."

"Just go back to being quiet. It's what you do best." Alex pushed the blanket off Sebastian. "And you, Seb, take off your jacket. You're incredibly sweaty."

When he didn't move, she unbuttoned it for him. He even let her pull at the sleeves until it took no effort to drop the jacket to the ground.

Whether it was because of the jacket, or Alex holding him close and rubbing his back, the aches and tears disappeared gradually. By the time he opened his eyes, the sun had already sunk beneath the horizon yet the world seemed far less dark.

Nick held his book at various angles before the window. "The moon here isn't bright enough. I can barely read the pages." He squinted so much his tongue stuck out of his mouth.

His future General was definitely a muttonhead. What had Uncle Tom been thinking? As if Nick could ever command an entire army.

Alex let out a short snort, yet proceeded to rub his back until he felt her slumping against him. She had fallen asleep. Despite complaining, Nick managed to read quite a few pages before he dropped the book onto his lap and began to snore.

Though they had embraced the night, sleep didn't come for Sebastian. He unsheathed the dagger and stared at his tear-stained face. The boy who so desperately wanted to be a man; even surrounded by his friends he was still lonely.

The door screeched open, waking up Alex with a start. She instantly dove behind him, while Nick continued to saw wood as if nothing had happened. Sebastian pretended to be asleep too when he recognised the steady pace of the boots: Uncle Tom.

"Alex, there's no need to use Seb as a shield." There was a trace of amusement in his voice.

"I just had to see how he was doing." Alex let out a lengthy yawn, only covering her mouth when she was almost done." I'm sorry, Your Majesty."

"It's alright. I'm not angry nor surprised to find you two here." He tapped his fingers on the sill. "Please go to bed. It's my turn to look after Seb."

"Right. I'll wake up Nick, and then we'll go back to our rooms."

"Wait a second, Alex." Uncle Tom laid his hand on Sebastian's back. "I know you're awake, Seb. What do you think? Isn't it cruel to wake Nick up just to tell him to go to sleep again?"

Sebastian sat up, grumbling. He squinted as he looked straight into the light of the candle Uncle Tom was holding. After rubbing his eyes, he glanced at Nick, who lay all cosy against the window, clutching the book between his arms and belly.

He stretched his arm and poked his thigh. No reaction. "Let him stay. He's not gonna wake till morning."

"That's decided then." Uncle Tom shoved the candle aside before assisting a wobbly Alex off the sill. "Will you be able to find your way back to your chamber, My Lady?"

"Oh, don't worry about me, Your Majesty. If I get lost, I'll ask a guard, or sleep on the stairs. I'm not picky."

"Hmm... it would put my mind at ease if you asked Michael down the corridor. Wake him up. Tell him to take you to your chamber, on my orders. His shift should have ended hours ago, so after that, he can go home, to his own family."

"I shall." She bowed, which Seb found strange. Alex didn't seem like the kind of person to adapt to court life so fast. "Good night, Your Majesty." She glanced at him. "Night, Seb."

"Night."

"Good night, Lady Alex." Uncle Tom waited for her to disappear through the door, then grabbed the jug of water on the table and poured some into a cup. "Want something to drink, Seb?"

"No." He didn't know why he said that. His mouth was so dry he could drink the whole jug.

Uncle Tom crossed his arms on the sill, keeping the filled cup in his hand. "Let's go outside then. Get you some fresh air."

"I don't want to." Already missing Alex's warmth, he nestled back on the pillow and gazed at the wall. His lips were trembling, his eyes itching to release another flood of tears.

"Then what do you want?"

He swallowed a couple of times, blocking all memories of Laneby, and Father, and Fox, yet failed to be brave and strong. Again. "I want to stop feeling like this, Uncle Tom. I don't know how, but you have to make it stop. Please, Uncle Tom, I don't want to cry anymore. I want to be a real man."

"Here." Uncle Tom pushed the cup against his side. "Drink up. It won't solve everything, but it's a start."

He grabbed the cup with both hands and downed it in one gulp. Uncle Tom immediately gave him a refill, which he slugged down as well.

"Liar, I knew you were thirsty." He sniffed, toning down a snigger. "You also want to go outside, don't you?"

Nick was still snoring like a purring cat, and Sebastian felt the God of Envy taking over his mind. His friend had the skill to sleep anywhere at any time, even when the mightiest thunderstorms rumbled above his head. There was no doubt he would remain in a deep slumber until the first rays of sunlight announced a new day.

"Maybe..." His fingers twirled his dagger in his hand. "If you practice sword fighting with me."

"Sword fighting?" Uncle Tom pinched his lips. "I'd think you wouldn't enjoy that after tonight."

"But it's just play-fighting, Uncle Tom. It's not real, like in the throne room."

"Come on then, big boy."

Sebastian stood up and jumped off the sill, straight into his uncle's broad arms. He wrapped his legs around his waist. When he was a toddler, he used to bury himself in Father's embrace whenever he woke up in the middle of the night, screaming that the monsters in his dreams were after him.

He was no longer a toddler, and the monsters didn't just live in his dreams; they were grown men who were willing to commit the gravest of sins to get what wasn't theirs. No hug could change that, he knew that, but it still felt good to know he didn't have to fight his fears and sorrows on his own.

Uncle Tom put him back on the ground, then took him by the hand to guide him through a narrow and dark stair hall in between his and Lana's chambers that lead straight to the royal garden.

Lana had already shown him the garden, with its countless flower beds and tall trees that might as well have walked all the way from Laneby to here, but being there after dark was a whole other experience. The moonlight reflected brightly onto the pond's surface, the water shining as if covered by a million sapphires.

Uncle Tom took him beyond the trees, to an ivy-wrapped shed. He went in, returning not much later with dusty wooden swords and a battered shield that had so many cobwebs that it could have only belonged to him or Father when they were young.

"These should do to beat the living daylight out of your uncle." He smiled as he handed the sword and shield. "Nod when you're ready to receive the first hit."

"Oh no, I'm gonna get you first, Uncle Tom. Watch me." Sebastian held the sword even, levelling it with his nose just as Father had taught him, and nodded.

He lunged out right away, his uncle blocking the slash without moving his body to defend himself. With the next clash of wood, Sebastian nearly stumbled, then when he attacked again, it was too convenient that Uncle Tom dropped his sword.

"You're letting me win, Uncle Tom." He narrowed his eyes to send a harsh glare. "I can't learn anything when you do that."

He picked up his sword. "So you want me to fight for real?"

Before Sebastian had the time to answer, he jumped up to avoid a blow from below. Uncle Tom lashed out without giving him the chance to breathe. Sebastian raised his shield to his chest to protect himself, which was a fatal mistake when Uncle Tom forced his weight onto the shield, making Sebastian fall bottom first onto the grass.

"Urgh," he groaned. "Maybe not use your full strength either."

Uncle Tom pulled him back up, a large grin plastered on his face. "Now, you're just being difficult, Seb."

"Get used to that. Being difficult is my middle name."

"So was your father's."

He didn't bother with the shield anymore. For the rest of the evening, he focussed on spinning around his uncle, using his agility to step aside to avoid the attacks.

They had already crossed the entire royal garden, back to front, when Uncle Tom leapt in front of him and swung the sword towards his belly. Sebastian had no other option but to duck and dive into the pond.

Though he was soaking wet instantly, he considered it a victory. He swam a few strokes, the water not only wiping the last traces of his tears from his face but also dissolving most of his grief. Like this was all that he needed to be Seb again, instead of Lord Sebastian, the broken Crown Prince.

As he climbed out of the pond, a frog jumped onto his head with a very noisy croak. He burst out into laughter, shaking his hair like a dog to get the creature to move, but it stayed there, all unimpressed. "Uncle Tom, help."

"Stay still, Seb. I'll get it." Uncle Tom scooped the frog into his hands and released it onto the grass where it hopped around before plunging back into the pond. "You do know what they say about frogs and princes, don't you?"

"Come back, froggy. Kiss me so I don't have to be a prince anymore." Sebastian sniggered, mostly for his uncle. He couldn't help but feel a knot forming in his stomach as the animal stuck out its tongue to catch an unfortunate fly passing by. Such a careless life it was leading. A life without tears or an aching heart. 

Suddenly, he felt bad for laughing, for having a good time with Uncle Tom. His family should have been here, his friends and their parents and siblings. The royal garden was big enough to fit everyone from Laneby.

"Seb." Uncle Tom patted the marble border around the pond. "Sit down for a while. It'll dry your clothes."

Sebastian shrugged. "Or you could ask the guards or the servants to carry me to my room so I don't step on the carpets with my wet shoes. You're the King. I bet they'll do it."

"They'll do it, indeed. But I won't let them suffer because of your stupid action. And it's still nice and warm outside. I spend too much time inside anyway."

"But I wanna go back inside," he murmured.

When his uncle shook his head, Seb sat down on the stone. He kicked out his boots and removed his soggy socks.

"Question for you," Uncle Tom scratched his ear. "When I asked you earlier, why did you decide to let Nick sleep on the sill. You could have woken him up, spare him the pain of a sore neck in the morning."

He wrung his shirt, but when that formed a pool of pond water between his shoes, he took off his shirt and laid it on the grass. "Well, I heard what you said, that it would be mean to wake him up and tell him to sleep somewhere else. I know Nick. It won't bother him to sleep like that, so it seemed like the best thing to do."

"Good." Uncle Tom wrapped his jacket around Sebastian like a towel. "Very good. Do you have any idea why I asked you that."

"No."

"I wanted to let you experience what it means to be King."

He cocked his head and frowned. "How do you mean?"

"I'm not going to lie, Seb. Everything that pertains to this kingdom is my responsibility, but that doesn't mean I know everything. I've surrounded myself with people who possess far more knowledge in their respective fields of expertise. I listen to them and value their opinion."

"And you would be a muttonhead if you didn't take their advice."

"Exactly." Uncle Tom booped Sebastian's nose. "In the end, my will needs to be obeyed, but I don't rule this country completely on my own."

"So... Captain Jonathan and General George help you?"

"Among others, yes." He put his arm around Sebastian. "What I'm trying to say is that your friends seem incredibly loyal to you. Both in their own way, but they are. That's why I asked Nick to join the army. I want him to be your General—the man you can say anything to. You and him are going to be the pairs of eyes that will have to guard the kingdom and protect it from potential war."

"Peace is better for a country than war. Less tears and more gold." Sebastian nodded. He had learnt that lesson. "And Alex? She was a great warrior in Laneby. Nobody shoots arrows the way she does. Can she join the army too?"

"No, Sundale isn't Laneby. And I'm not your father." Uncle Tom blinked a couple of times, rapidly. "But she cares deeply about you, that I can see. I don't think there's anything she won't do for you."

"Will you try to make sure she's happy here, Uncle Tom? I understand you can't do anything for Fox, but I don't want Alex to be sad. She's my friend too."

Uncle Tom ran his fingers over his black jewel. "I'll figure something out for her. I promise."

Sebastian thumped his legs against the marble border of the pond. Nick and Alex would live fine lives in this city, close to him. His stomach gnawed. Wherever Fox was, he hoped his friend was happy.

But not too happy. Fox sure had to miss him as much he missed him.