The Royal Thief

Chapter Twenty: Guardian and Heir

I know I normally do author's notes at the end, but this time it's at the beginning, because it has come to my attention that some of you don't know how to pronounce the character's names!!!! And by some of you, I mean my sister. But still, she brought up a good point. So I'm going to add a pronunciation guide in the index for characters whose names could be pronounced the wrong way. Okay? Okay. (#Accidental TFIOS Reference #Is it too late for those)

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We stared at each other for a few moments and then she seemed to suddenly notice her soaked skirts. "Oh!" She squeaked, and stood up quickly. The ink pot fell off her lap and shattered on the floor. "Oh," She repeated. Caer hardly seemed to notice her.

"Morane! How good of you to join us! I do hope you will stay and have your morning lesson?"

I raised an eyebrow. Since when did he talk like some dainty-tongued noble? How good of you to join us! I do hope you will stay!

Eyes wide, the princess looked back and forth between us like a mouse caught between two cats. "Caer?" She whispered.

"Yes, my lady?" He asked courteously.

"I... I need to... change." She stuttered, and fled past me.

I stood by to let her pass, and then turned back to Caer. "What the hell was that?"

"Excuse your language, that was Princess Magali."

Rolling my eyes, I helped myself to an armchair. "No kidding. I meant what is she doing here? What were you doing with her? Do you--"

"Oh, jealous are we?"

I snorted and the smug look fell off his face. "Yeah, I'm jealous that she gets to have you fill her head with useless facts everyday. That is what you were doing, isn't it? You're her history tutor?"

He sat down on a desk opposite me and stretched out his long legs. "Yes, I am the princess's tutor."

"Right. So that still leaves me with the question of what the hell?"

"As I said before-- Excuse you. Didn't your mother ever teach you not to use foul language?"

"I haven't seen my mother since I was eight."

There was a long pause as he opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say.

"Oh. Oh, I'm very sorry to hear that. I didn't realize. I--"

"She's not dead. At least I don't think she is. I just haven't seen her."

He blinked his bright blue eyes. "Well, that changes things! Shame on you, not visiting your--"

"Caer. Answer. The question."

"What question?"

"Ugh!" I buried my head in my hands. "You infuriating idiot, I want to know why she--"

"I'm back!" She shouted breathlessly, throwing open the doors. They crashed into the walls, and from the sound of it, rebounded backwards, hitting her on the head and eliciting a loud yelp. I snorted into my hands and could almost feel Caer's glare burning into my head. Then there was the scuffling of feet-- and the sound of said feet tripping over two chairs-- and the soft thump of the princess sitting down, with an extra swish of silk. There was an awkward silence, Caer apparently waiting for the princess to say something, which she didn't.

"Well. Shall we continue?"

"Yes, please," I heard her say quietly.

"Morane, would be so kind as to lift up your head and participate in the lesson? Thank you."

Lazily, I lifted my head and settled myself further into the cushions of the chair. The princess had chosen a different high-backed wooden chair to pull up to the desk, her original seat still puddled with ink, and her dress was now pale green silk with a long train. I smirked a little to myself, thinking of her two stumbles just trying to walk across the room.

Lifting her eyes from her paper she shot a side-long look at me and fidgeted with her long, lace-trimmed sleeves. I refused to look away, which I suspected is what I should have done. I was the Guardian, after all, and she was my princess. My princess who had never even deemed to glance at me before, yet still I was expected to be demure, respectful, eager to serve. Anger boiled in my chest and I opened my mouth to say something, which was the cue for Caer to begin to explain where he and the princess had left off. My sudden anger condensed into a hard rock, glowing red-hot, in the pit of my stomach.

"We're quite a bit farther along than you, of course, but I'm sure you don't mind skipping a few hundred years of history, do you?"

"No, I don't mind at all," I said through gritted teeth. The princess gave me another wide-eyed stare but looked away before I could snap at her.

And Caer began the lesson. As could be expected, it involved a lot of squeaking on the princess's part and mostly silent glares on mine. The more time I spent in her presence the more she annoyed me. Her high-pitched voice, her constant furtive glances, the way she twisted her fingers nervously. What was she nervous about? Wasn't she the princess? Wasn't everything always taken care of for her? Didn't she have the assurance of two Guardians existing simply to pick up after her?

My anger bubbled and boiled and welled up like lava ready to pour out of a volcano. Caer must have noticed steam coming out my ears because he pronounced the lesson finished in just half an hour. I hadn't heard a word of it.

Once the princess had scurried out, he rounded on me.

"What have you got against her?"

"What haven't I?" I challenged.

"What on earth is that supposed to mean?"

"Why do you answer all of my questions with more questions?"

"Why do you do the same to me?"

I scowled and stood up. "Do you have any idea what it's like knowing I'm supposed to serve her my entire life?"

"Oh, come on." His voice was disgusted as he swept his books into his arms and picked up his leather bag. "I know you. You couldn't care less about what you're supposed to do. The princess isn't some shadow following you around all the time reminding you of your duties, or whatever you think she is. Don't try to tell me I don't know what it's like, because you don't know what it's like either. You've just decided, for whatever reason, not to like her."

I pressed my lips together and decided not to answer. Instead I spun around and marched out the door-- and found the princess standing just outside, listening to every word we said. She met my eyes and her face paled. Stumbling a little, she backed up a few feet, then turned and ran, hiking up her skirts and slipping on the polished floor. 

I scowled after her and leaned against the wall. Caer was wrong. Fine, so the princess hadn't always hung over me like a cloud of doom, I hadn't always felt a deep abiding hatred knowing I was meant to serve her. But the moment I walked into that room, it all came crashing down. She was the heir. And I was the Guardian. And there was nothing I could do about it.

Yes, Lord yes, I hated her.