Secrets - Book 7 - The Frencolian Chronicles (complete)

Chapter 2

The youngest king who ever sat on the Frencolian throne, King Luke Chatelain, had turned seventeen several weeks ago while a captive in Baltic Castle.

Around him, in a semi-circle of comfortable chairs carried from the reception hall to this chamber, sat various royal people including the Supreme Monarch to the Kingdom of Proburg, Prince Gustovas. King Konrad sat beside his prince brother, Meyer.

It was most unusual that guests, even royal ones, were permitted to sit in this chamber, but when the king commanded such a thing, his command was obeyed without question.

Prince Meyer conversed earnestly with his young wife, Princess Ordella who refused to leave his side to be with the women as was custom. Meyer had also been a captive of the tyrannical Elliad and Ordella had not expected to see her husband alive again. Their young nephews—Gustav —now heir to the Proburg throne —Melvyn, Gunther, Guibert, and Conroy —all sat right on the marble-tiled floor, playing with a beautiful wooden ark. Prince Charles showed them pairs of tiny carved wooden animals, eight small people and various other carved pieces. Charles eloquently explained the story of Noah's ark, quoting verses from Genesis with accuracy, adding, "We all descend from Noah and his family."

His father, Crown Prince Dorai strode over and drew him aside, chiding him for monopolizing the boys' time, adding, "You will sit aside and finish sketching our guests who are here, Charles. It is a much more worthwhile pastime."

Charles moved nearer the wall, sketching his royal friends. The boys, in the meantime, played with the numerous animals, taking them in and out of the ark, two by two, recounting the story Charles had told.

Prince Dorai, tall, lean, and sun-tanned, his shiny brown hair spread carefully over his balding head like numerous harp strings, stood beside Lord Jarman whose thick hair stuck up like bristles on a porcupine, his body short and stomach large and rounded. They discussed the construction of this magnificent throne room.

Behind the seated royals stood their respective officials and trusted counselors. Royal visitors from Strasland had yet to arrive. As reported by fore-riders, they were half-an-hour behind schedule. Few Frencolian roads were suitable for carriages and those that were made the journey longer.

A young prince whispered ever so softly to his new friends that Charles' father looked like a narrow-toothed comb while a Reideaux lord looked like a fat hairbrush. Muffled giggles resounded in the perfect acoustics of the throne room as the children shared opposites like 'spoon and fork'. Adults thought the children had discovered something amusing about the toys. When Prince Guibert declared his grandfather to be 'a bucket' and his Uncle Meyer 'a spade,' the laughter erupted. Adults frowned at their respective boys but comparisons continued as did the merriment.

It was a happy occasion; they were passing time in friendly conversations, eager for the morning to roll to the glad hour of the betrothal ceremony. Everyone smiled; there was no thought of animosity or hint of intrigue.

The children drew closer to Charles, who, having sketched all the royal adults in the room, drew a scroll from inside his embroidered jacket and flattened it out. He'd decided to read before sketching more children. All the children gathered to listen as Charles read the words he'd copied so carefully from a German manuscript. The story was about the lost lamb.

As the sound of his son's voice permeated the chamber, such words being spoken in German, Prince Dorai strode across to his son, navigating his steps between the boys and snatching the scroll from Prince Charles' hands, shaking his head and saying, "Carry on sketching, Charles." Crunching the parchment in one hand, he undid a toggle with the other. Tucking the compacted page inside his jacket, he strode toward the dais.