Once again, the picture above is important to the chapter and is my original work <3

I run my hands over my brand-new desk, smiling. I still cannot believe Mother and Father have allowed me such an opportunity. I had come into their room expecting a lecture and left with a chance to prove myself worthy of being king. I am practically shaking with excitement, which is the opposite of how I usually feel when I am seated at a desk. But, for once, the work I am doing is something I chose to do, not something imposed upon me by authority figures. 

The door swings open and in walks my father. I stand to greet him, fixing my tie and smiling from ear to ear. “Thank you again for such an amazing opportunity, Father. I am simply ecstatic to begin my work. What case shall I be looking at first? A bank robbery? Severe hacking? A murder?”

“Woah there, son,” My father says, chuckling slightly and shaking his head. I put my hands down, realizing they must have started to creep up to gesticulate as a Right would. That simply will not do. I must be able to articulate with words rather than resorting to miming. “You do realize that you are not to be placed as the head of Major Crimes? That occupation is still in my possession.” 

“Oh,” I say, looking back over at my desk, where “Prince Alexander” was written on a plaque. “I suppose that decision is more than logical. My running of a criminal justice division is supposed to be a trial run after all. It would be detrimental to Carris to place a naivety like myself as head of law enforcement.” 

“Precisely, I knew you would interpret the settlement correctly.”

“So,” I ask, looking back at my father and squaring my shoulders again, “What division have you in mind for me?”

“One that has caused us many troubles as of late: The Juvenile Authority. You will guard our kingdom against those raucous teenagers that feel the need to vandalize, shoplift, and start riots in the streets. These kinds of crimes rarely warrant a court case, so you will act as both jury and judge, assigning community service or penitentiary hours as punishment.” He smiles, clearly delighted at the idea that I will be head of that division. That small, petty division. But I am not about to turn down my first chance to prove to Carris that I will make a great king one day.

“Alright, Father, your verdict has been made clear. I will begin to formulate a plan of action for the next call that comes in.” I look towards my desk again, still clear of any case files, and likely to stay as such for a long time. I turn back to him and ask him the next logical question. “And who shall I be reporting to?” 

“Why, son, you are the head of the department. You report to no one.” My smile begins to come back, and I can feel myself getting excited again. “But,” he continues, “that is not to say that you are allowed free reign at this current juncture.” He presses a button on his lapel that I know to be a microphone to send reports and commands to those in the castle. I briefly wonder if I am to soon be bestowed with one. “You can come in now.”

At that moment, a young lady pushes the door open. She holds a tablet close to her chest, and her hair is pulled back neatly into a low bun. I do not even dare guess her age because she seems like the type of woman who would be a lot younger than she lets on, but also wise beyond her years. I walk towards her to shake her hand.

“This,” My father says, as my hand embraces hers, “is Hypatia. She has been employed to watch over you in this new endeavor.” I stop shaking her hand quite suddenly and retract my grasp, forgetting my manners for a second as I feel my temper rise. 

I turn to look at my father and tilt my head inquisitively, choosing my words carefully, putting on a smile that I hope will convey to him how little I want to smile at this news. “Is that so? I must admit that I was taken in unawares that I needed ‘watching over’ in this new endeavor, especially after just being told that I was the division’s head.” 

My father returns my tight-lipped smile, letting me know that I do not have much say in this matter. “Why, of course, you do, Alexander. Did you truly determine another conclusion? Your newly found managerial position of the wayward youth was troublesome enough to your mother. I was able to convince her that, with Hypatia as your advisor, you will produce grandiose outcomes.” I feel slightly deflated as if the joy I was feeling just seconds ago for knowing my parents trusted me leaked out when she opened the door. 

Father must have noticed my dejectedness because his smile becomes much warmer, and he clarifies, “Now, Hypatia is simply an advisor, not your superior. Neither is she your subordinate. She has spent years working in the juvenile authority unit and has developed many skills, skills that you need to learn. If all goes according to your mother and I’s plans, you shall no longer require her services in a few months from now.”

I take a deep, cleansing breath, then turn towards Hypatia. “I look forward to working with you, Hypatia.”

She sighs and shakes her head, almost condescendingly. “You must have predicted, Prince Alexander, after learning of my years of service to the juvenile authority, that I have become quite adept at realizing when a teenager is lying.”

Her accusation makes me falter, and my father laughs. “I can already tell this partnership will do you well, Alexander.”

I laugh as well, quickly and nervously, darting my eyes between my father and Hypatia. I suppose I do have a lot to learn. But there is one thing that I still do not quite grasp, one that I knew my mother was hesitant for me to discover… but perhaps my father would be willing to tell me. 

“Before you leave, Father… King Leonardo,” I add, as he begins to make his path to the exit. At the use of his formal title, he stops suddenly and turns, looking quizzically at me. 

“Yes, Prince Alexander?” His voice lilts in a way that shows me he is still teasing me, still believes it is a joke. I roll back my shoulders and stand as tall as I can, trying my best to live up to my title. 

“I simply am pondering if there is to be a time that I am disclosed on what it was that caused the altercation between the Queen and yourself.” I hold my breath, waiting for his answer. 

He remains stoically in place, not a single shift in his facial features that could betray him. “Well as you are Alexander, your mother’s son, and I am Leonardo your mother’s husband, I do not think it wise to impart upon you the erudition you request as she has implicitly told me that she does not fancy you having knowledge of the event.” I try to reflect a bit of my father in myself, not allowing my true feelings, of hurt and of being untrusted, to show on my face. 

The light hair above his lip, always cleanly shaven, begins to slowly move to make way for his smirk. “However.” At his pause, I breathe in sharply but besides that, focus on not describing my sudden excitement on my face. “As you are Prince Alexander, head of the Juvenile Authority and I am King Leonardo, head of Major Crimes and overall law enforcement, I believe it is the duty of our kingdom that you must know… especially since the man we apprehended was only an exiguous amount of years away from being under your division.” 

I finally let out the breath I was holding and spare a glance at Hypatia, who did not seem surprised at all by this news. However, I am unsure if that is because she already knew or because she has developed such a good “poker face”, as they would say Before… probably both. 

I offer my father a seat across from my new desk and sit down behind it. I begin to grab a pen and tablet, intending to take extensive notes of what he finally imparts to me, when I suddenly remember how hard that could be for me. Not wanting to show my father my blunders in person, I set the tablet on the table between us and hit record as inconspicuously as possible, so I may look back on this later. 

My father adjusts himself in his seat and leans forward, commanding the room and demanding attention by that small action. He waits for me to make eye contact with him and Hypatia moves to stand behind me with her own tablet and pen at the ready. Once I look up at him, the King wastes no time in telling me exactly what I need to hear. 

“A Right extremist was discovered with a case of dynamite.” He pauses, perhaps waiting for a gasp or reaction out of me, but I am determined to see this through and prove to him that I deserve his trust in matters like this. However, by his word choice, he has definitely intrigued me. A Right extremist is one that believes that our current societal roles, with the Lefts in control of the government, should be rescinded to the Rights. They have been known to be an embarrassment to the more righteous and loyal Rights, but never have they acted so violently before. 

He continues. “We are not sure as of yet what diabolical scheme he had concocted that required such extensive explosive devices, but we are sure it was not going to be something even a Right would deem ‘fun’. When the policemen in his region caught him, he almost seemed to be awaiting him, just standing on top of the bridge between the sectors. He made no attempt to prevent the arrest, and the officer commented that he was quite calm and even slightly smiling. And, as if circumstances were not already approaching incredulity, he refused to talk without a lawyer present.” 

Finally, I break and sputter out an incomprehensible word of astonishment. I would have felt childish doing so, had I not heard Hypatia also react, albeit less violently, with a simple intake of breath. “A Right?” I question, “Demanding a lawyer? I did not know they even knew what a lawyer was, let alone that they were allowed one!” 

Father smiles at me, beaming with pride. “My ponderings exactly, son. It was far too calculated for a Right.” His eyes roll slightly and he frowns as he continues, “Your mother believes this to be a triumph as the explosives were never detonated, and thus no person or building was impaired. However, no lawyer will take his case as of yet, so we are at an impasse… and what is worse is he continues to smile.” My father glares ruefully at the ground. I can tell not knowing the whole situation is infuriating to him. If there was something, anything that I could offer him, I would… and then I remember. 

“Father…” I begin, pausing waiting for him to look me in the eyes as he had done to me earlier. He slowly etches his eyes to meet mine, though they truly are a replica of his own. I am my father’s son. And I am going to prove it. “Remember the report I gave you on the Righ- er… figures I witnessed yesterday? At the bridges between the Left and Right sectors?”

My father’s eyes began to fill with something, color returning to his face as he began to piece something together behind his head. “At the bridges… yes… YES! Alexander, how could I have not seen this before! Of course! I must go tell your mother, perhaps the two occurrences are connected after all!” He jumps up out of his chair and begins walking towards the door, the air around him sparking with excitement at this new lead he found. 

Just before he opens the door, he turns back to me, smiling once again. “Alexander, I am asking of you this simple request, not as your King, but as your Father: Watch the petty crimes of the Rights. Cross-reference and record them. Do not allow a pattern to emerge without you having stitched it together first. As I mentioned before, this man we apprehended… was not much older than you are now.” He nods over to Hypatia, who has been quiet, watching the exchange between us. “Use Hypatia as a colleague and for support. She holds much more knowledge and wisdom than you; Be humble enough to learn.”

He turns his head back to the door, looking down at his fist around the doorknob. “No matter what your mother says,” the King whispers, so much so that I must strain to hear, “I have no doubt in my mind that the Rights are planning something. We simply must plan quicker.”

With that last word, he opens the door, pulls himself through it, and closes it in one fluid motion. The atmosphere in the room has changed. Everything said in here was serious and confidential and I must remember that. For once, I have been let out of my sheltered cage. And for once… I question if I am ready for it. 

My thoughts are broken by a rapid beeping emanating from under my tablet. I pick it up and off the desk, turning off the recording device, and search for the source of the noise. Hypatia reaches over my shoulder and presses her finger to a corner of my desk. The desk scans her fingerprint, which allows a report to appear in front of us in a hologram. I nod my thanks at Hypatia and read the report. 

“It seems that something in my… in our jurisdiction has been called, Hypatia,” I say, turning towards the woman who somehow takes up all the space in the room while still remaining unnoticed. She truly was a woman of skills, skills that most likely took her years to perfect… I had a few meager months.

I shook those thoughts from my head as she smiled at my quick verbal correction. “Indeed it does. Shall we then?” And as she gestures for me to stand, I have already grabbed my overcoat and am heading out the door. After all, I am pretty excited about my first case. 

I sit in the driver’s seat and consider actively driving today since I am simply that enthusiastic to get started, but I know these few minutes alone are important for Hypatia and me to go over the report again before we get there so we do not stumble upon redundant clues. 

“Okay,” I say, reopening the report on the dash of the police car. Hypatia looks up from her own notes and gives me her full attention. Something about that makes me feel… seen. I square my shoulders and try my best to read the report and sum it up as quickly as possible so she will not notice anything. “So it seems that… there has been a report of… v...vandalism.” I keep my eyes on the report, feeling the blood rushing to my cheeks, embarrassment at my stutter coursing through my veins. But the harder I try to focus, the worst my vision seems to get, my brain unable to distinguish the letters from each other. 

I look out over the report to see if I am able to distinguish where the car is taking us. I breathe a sigh of relief, as I do happen to have a slight inkling of where we are going, and, now returning to the words, it is easier to figure it out. “Some delinquents, most likely adolescents, dressed in black were vandalizing a building near the border?” I inflect my voice slightly at the end and then hastily repeat myself, “...near the border.” I chance a glance over at Hypatia, hoping she did not take notice of my situation, though I would be far more surprised if she had not. 

However, instead of commenting on it, her eyes slide over the report with ease and deftness, pulling out of the jargon the words that matter much quicker than I ever could. “The act was done via spray paint, a staple of Rights, even more so since it was so near the border and they were not caught. It is more than likely that what we will see once we arrive at the scene is an arrow pointing to the right, as it is one of their calling cards if you will.”

The car pitters to a stop in front of the building in question, a group of cleaners waiting for our eyes to see the vandalism before scrubbing it away. I find that unfair, that these workers must strife over something that was not their fault. I make a mental note to discuss with Hypatia later what the punishment for vandalism is and if it can involve cleaning of the defacement oneself.

“How strange,” She says, looking at the base of the building where the arrow was drawn. I walk over to join her and look at the crime in question. Had Hypatia and this crowd not been standing there, I would have gasped. This was clearly Right work, though that was never in doubt: The beauty behind the colors, the lines, the intricacies of it all. But this was no defacement… this… this was a work of art. 

But as I pulled my eyes away from the vivid detail of the arrow, I came to look upon the full picture and realized why Hypatia had called it strange. Without her noticing, I began to sketch a replica as best I could for private study later, knowing I would never be able to capture the beauty with my untrained hand and only one color. What was peculiar about this piece was that it was not one arrow, but two, that met and then proceeded in the same direction. And as I drew on the tip, I did not draw it to the right or to the left. I drew it up.