CASSEN

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cassen sat at his desk, opening, signing, and sealing his accords. Tiresome as the task was, it was far better than hauling around pots of piss—a thing he reminded himself of when calling for the boy who fetched his chamber pot.

He heard the sound of approaching footsteps, the precursor to the familiar rap at the door.

I must get out of this room, he thought. Perhaps whatever lady this is will get to take a stroll with her mother in the gardens.

“His Majesty the Prince to see you, Duchess,” called the boy servant from behind the door.

“Send him in.” Cassen turned in his seat to face his guest. As intriguing as a visit from Alther was, it deterred his plans of enjoying some dawnlight. The thought of walking together with Alther, arm in arm, through a forest of flowers, put an honest smile on Cassen’s face. But the man that entered was not the prince Cassen had anticipated.

“My young prince, what a pleasant surprise.” The unexpectedness of the visit caused Cassen a momentary lapse in concentration, and he forgot to address Stephon by an appropriately inflated title.

Did his mother put him up to this? An envoy to beg a refund of her deposit perhaps? The coinage received from Crella’s messenger yet remained under his bed. Its value to him had doubled when Cassen heard whispers of the king’s command for Alther and his family to move to Westport. Still, he would have gladly given it all back to have seen Crella’s reaction upon hearing the news herself.

“Please, have a seat wherever you like.” Cassen motioned toward the small sofa and chaise longue, both upholstered to look as though they might have been pilfered from a princess’s suite. His furniture was specifically designed to make his male visitors uncomfortable and less inclined to judicious thought. It often had the same effect on women as well.

“I…” The prince glanced around the room. “I believe I will stand.”

“Very well. How can I be of service to His Majesty?” Cassen inquired.

“Please. You may dispense with formalities when speaking with me.”

“As you wish, Prince Stephon.”

“Stephon will do.”

“Yes, I suppose it will.”

The prince shot him an incredulous look but quickly replaced it with one of faux pleasantness. My sardonic tongue will get me in to trouble some day, Cassen chided himself.

“You must be wondering what has brought me here,” the prince said, attempting to look dispassionate.

“I am.” It was perhaps the first truth Cassen had spoken all day.

“As you may or may not be aware, His Grace the King has ordered my family to take up residence in Westport.”

“Oh, I had not heard… When will you be leaving?”

“I do not intend to.” The prince lifted his chin slightly in demonstration of his defiance.

“Ah, I see. Have you made your wishes known to your parents?” Cassen still could not see where this was headed.

“I am not a child, Duchess Cassen.” The prince struggled with Cassen’s title. “…In no way am I a child.” He then flashed what he must have thought to be a charming smile—the type of audacious smirk an overconfident prince might show a lady he hoped to bed. He couldn’t possibly…

Cassen was well practiced at suppressing laughter, but this was too much even for him. He quickly moved his hand to his face and tried to turn what would have been an unbridled guffaw into an embarrassed-looking giggle. Cassen was quite sure that the prince only had interest in the fairer sex and that these advances, if that is indeed what they were, were only a ploy. To what end exactly he could not guess, but he could certainly attempt to determine the authenticity of the prince’s forwardness. A little test perhaps.

Cassen floated in his silks from the desk to the curved sofa, sat down on one side and patted the seat beside him, smiling coquettishly. The flash of horror on the prince’s face lasted only a moment, but it revealed what Cassen had already surmised.

Stephon had the presence of mind to blush and feign bashfulness to delay and let his mind process the situation. He reluctantly acquiesced and sat across from Cassen, though leaning somewhat farther away than an actual suitor might have. You pompous little ass. Now to make him think he has accomplished the task.

“Prin— …Stephon, you most certainly are no child, and I apologize for the implication. I want you to know that I think of you as an…ally.” Cassen reached out and touched the prince’s hands with his. To his credit the prince did not pull back in revulsion, though it probably took every fiber in his being to avoid so. “But how can I assist you in staying in Eastport? Surely you have some plan?”

“Everyone is aware that you have my grandfather’s ear.” Stephon spoke quickly. “Perhaps if you told him it was necessary for me to remain in Eastport for some reason.”

Cassen mulled it over. “As an apprentice of mine perhaps.” As Cassen said the words he shot a flirtatious smile at the prince. I should be careful not to push him too far. All men have their limits. I of all should know.

“Yes, perhaps. I suppose it would be good for me to learn the ways of successful city management.” Cassen saw no fakery in the boy’s jab at his father.

“You will make a fine apprentice, I think,” said Cassen warmly. You shall indeed.