“I can’t believe you made me do this.” Cynas mutters to his companion as he tries to get the attention of a waiter. One arrives and refills their glasses.

“You could have refused.” Linden retorts as he eyes the waiter suspiciously. The waiter doesn’t notice and walks to another table. Linden scratches at the false mustache under his nose.

Cynas raises an eyebrow at his friend. “You would not have given up if I refused.”

“I would have given up on you.” Linden raises his glass as if in a toast to the room. “I would have no problem finding someone with an invitation.” He tosses back the drink, shaking his golden hair. He resets the glass on the table and glares at the room with brooding dark eyes.

“But someone else would not have had my discretion.” Cynas winces at the taste of the wine, not noticing Linden smiling smugly to himself. “I do not believe this gets better with each taste. Ah, look, the girls are ready.”

Together, they walk to join the crowd gathering around the stage. Linden turns his gaze impatiently over the people, watching them gather. His eyes focus on a dark-haired woman and young girl standing in the doorway. Instead of the finery of lace and silk the other women adorn, the woman is in a somber grey with a thick scarlet sash around her thin waist.

“The stage is that way.” Cynas says impatiently as he pulls on Linden’s arm. They could be brothers, if opposites could be brothers. Cynas has a short crop of brown hair and a widow’s peak that made his face seem more oval than round. Linden has a square jaw line he often holds between his thumb and forefinger to appear as if he is in deep contemplation. One could roll a marble of both of the men’s straight noses. Linden’s false mustache covers his upper lip, giving him a pouting expression.

“Who is that woman?” Linden exclaims. “She shouldn’t be so discourteous with her attire.”

“You’ll just have to forgive her, Your Majesty.” Cynas says with a small mock bow. “She’s one of the teachers in the Young Magicians School. Very talented with children and spells, but a bit too work oriented to care for fashion.”

“She should crawl back into whatever cave she crawled out of.” Linden says, turning his head away roughly.

Cynas turns Linden to face him and meets him in the eye, dark blue for brown. “She is one of my close friends. Do not insult her, especially in my presence.”

Linden does not have the time to reply. Cries of “Follow me!” sound directly before the girl and woman crash into the two men.

“Dear girl,” Cynas says as he meets Linden’s gaze for a moment before turning to the child. “You must watch where you are leading your poor teacher.”

“The words from my mouth, Cynas!” The woman replies as she steadies herself. Only now does Linden realize that her right hand is clutching a cane. It is unpolished pale wood and, while it is mostly straight, the wood at the top encircles her forearm loosely enough for her to slip her hand out when necessary. As his eyes travel up the cane to her face, he finds her dark eyes locked on his. Startled, he looks away abruptly.

“You must be proud, Claire. I heard three of your students are coming out this season.”

“Yes, my first batch.” Claire places her left hand over her heart. A silver ring catches the light of the lamps, revealing an intricate design of knots. “I wonder if a proud parent feels like this.”

“Claire!” The girl whines loudly with a pout.

“Yes, right, of course.” Claire bows her head to Cynas. “Duty calls. I will speak to you afterwards.” She leaves without turning her eyes to Linden again.

Linden narrows his eyes to her receding figure.

“Ha! It is a miracle.” Cynas teases. “You did not speak one word in her presence. Usually, I can’t stop you from talking when a lady’s around.” After seeing that Linden’s facial expression has not changed, he adds mercilessly, “You look like a boy who has been passed up for a treat.”

“She simply dismissed me. Did not ask to be introduced, not a word!”

“Oh, be a man. She may be icy at first, but eventually, she may allow you to speak to her again.”

Linden opens his mouth to reply but the lights dim and ambient music begins to play from the band backstage. He shuts his mouth and glares at the stage. The season opens with a couple bangs, some singed hairs and hems, and one animal transformation that received an encore from the audience. Unfortunately, the flutter of wings from the birds the second time raises the girl’s skirt to a scandalous height. Later on, that girl would receive a record amount of callers.

For now, the season opens and the curtain falls. The guests return to their tables for a heavy dinner to keep the performers from fainting in exhaustion.

“Why does she have a cane? She doesn’t seem older than us.”

“She isn’t. A year or two younger at most. She has a lame leg, probably since birth.”

“‘Probably’? How can one not be sure? Couldn’t we ask her parents?”

Cynas glowers at Linden for a moment as he blindly slathers his bread with butter. “I should just have you ask her, then your kingdom would have such a tragedy trying to find a replacement heir.”

“I will if you don’t tell me.” Linden puts down his knife and bread, and places his palms against the table as if to stand.

“Alright, but don’t you dare tell her I told you.”

“At this rate, I doubt I would be able to tell her anything.”

“Fair point,” Cynas lowers his head and eyes the other guests. “She was abandoned at the school, probably because of that leg. Now drop this subject. Talk of the other girls.”

“The girl with the feathery dress sparked my uh—curiosity.”

After dinner, Linden and Cynas leave together. Linden wanders down the street, trying to find his carriage.

“Claire!” Cynas calls out as he sees her exit the hall. “Was that feather girl one of yours?”

Claire brings her hand up to her mouth to cover her laugh. “If one of my girls even thought about doing that, I would warn her to wear a heavier fabric underneath.”

“Don’t tell me you could foresee that!”

“Among other things! Like a protective absorbent shield around the stage instead of a reflective shield that forces the fires to reflect back and burn the girl. Speaking of girls, how is your youngest cousin? Isn’t she reaching school age?”

“Yes, but sadly she has not demonstrated a single magical ability.”

“That is nothing to grieve over. She can now pursue politics if she wishes. How are you getting back to your home in the country?”

“Taking a friend’s carriage. Here he is.”

Claire swivels on her good leg to see the carriage. The door opens and she sees Linden in the light of the streetlamps.

“Would you join us, Miss Claire?” Linden beams his best smile. “I have heard much about you.”

“I must decline.” She says as she takes a step away from the carriage. “Walking is good for my legs. Goodnight to you gentlemen.” She swiftly turns away and hobbles away from the carriage into the dark streets.

Linden grits his teeth to keep from voicing his opinion in Cynas’s presence. He slams the door shut and barks his directions to the driver. The carriage starts with a lurch.

“She isn’t being rude.” Cynas says calmly. “She may have only just now recognized you, or your carriage.”

“I have a fake mustache on and I covered all the insignias. She shouldn’t be able to tell that I or this carriage belong to the royal family.”

“No,” Cynas points to the inner stitching of the upholstery. “Your family crest is all over the fabric.”

Linden curses under his breath as he stares at the tiny crests covering the seats. “She wouldn’t tell anyone that I was at your magical ‘invitations only’ season opener,” he asks as he peels off the fake mustache. “Would she?”

“No, but if she truly dislikes you, she will avoid any event you may be present at.”

“We can’t have her avoiding the Prince and Heir Apparent of the kingdom.”

----

“Where have you been?” asks the Queen. Her once done up golden curls are now amassed on her shoulders under a nightcap.

“Out,” Linden says as he races up the stairs.

“I can found out that much!” She follows him with the determination of a hound. “I had Palit checking the pubs, the tournaments, even the hospitals to try to find you. The poor man must have covered more than fifteen miles on that horse tonight.”

“That’s what we pay him for isn’t it? Running after me as if I was still a toddler,” He enters the bathroom and sits while one of the servants begins to wash his face. The servant hesitates for a moment as he notices the redness under the Prince’s nose, but quickly recovers without sparking the Queen’s suspicions. “Really, Mother, you must learn that this house isn’t the only place I shall find a meal. Hell, I could walk into a commoner’s home in the middle of the night and I would still have a hot meal before me within the hour. That meal may not be more than potatoes and smoked ham, but it would be the best they could do. Thank you Dali.” Linden pats the servant boy on the back while pressing a penny into his palm. “Don’t spend it all on sweets. They’ll rot your teeth.” He proceeds through to his bedroom. The Queen does not falter, stepping on his shadow.

“I don’t mean about dinner. I mean about keeping to your responsibilities. What will they think of this family if all you do is escape without any sort of entourage, or guidance? You will be ruling them, and rulers shouldn’t be running around all hours of the night.”

“Alright, I will do something for the sake of the face of this family. I’ll—I’ll… I will find someone to grace with my endowment.” Linden nods to his own idea and spreads out his arms for the next servant to remove his clothes.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t be nasty Mother. I was talking about financial endowments. I heard of a school that may like our support and it will aid relations between the magicians.”

“Good! I’ll have the paperwork in the morning and you can set out with the financiers then.”

As she turns to leave, Linden quickly adds, “I will go without the men to make it a bit of a surprise when I decide where I will place the money. Don’t want to show someone all the men following me around. Would be disappointed if I passed them up, no?”

“True, brilliant thinking. I expect an update at the end of the week.” The door closes after her. Linden rolls his eyes and turns his attention to his servant.

“Is it cold for you, sir?” asks the servant as he fluffs the pillows.

“Yes, have a dark haired girl bring up some warm water.”

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