Looking around the dull room, a single pallet bed jammed in the corner and not much else, Liam Fulton longed for something more. This wasn’t the life for him—he wanted more than being a tenant farmer’s son, working on the country’s most prosperous vineyard. The monotony of his days wore at him as a pumice; surely, if he stayed any longer, he would disappear into nothingness. He wanted a chance to go adventuring—to travel Aratia and find out what the continent could offer—and freedom from the cage of fear his mother had trapped him in.
With his haversack packed, Liam made his way into the kitchen, where his mother was. He had already spoken to his father at length about his decision, and they both thought it would be best to not tell his mother until the time came for him to leave. She had her back to him, stirring the contents of the cast-iron pot hanging over the flames. She fanned herself with a rag, pushing damp hair away from her face. He set his bag in the doorway, taking the time to memorize the moment. It was one he had seen so often, but today would not end the same as it always had.
“Mother?”
She turned, spoon in hand, a smile lighting her pale face. “Liam, darling, what are you doing home so early?”
Liam went to her side, his own smile wavering. “Mother—”
She stepped back from him, holding a hand up to pause his speech. “What’s wrong?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because there’s something wrong.” Her eyes started to widen. “What’s happening?”
His jaw clenched, muscles quivering. He could do this. He had to tell her. He couldn’t just disappear without a word. She would never recover if he did. “Mother, I’m leaving.”
Her eyes narrowed, the wrinkles deepening in the corners. “Leaving? Why are you leaving? Where are you going?”
Shifting on his feet, Liam looked away from her. He had to stay firm. If he looked at her, he didn’t know if he could bring himself to leave. “To Jalmar.”
“Jalmar?” Her claw-like hands gripped his arm. Her voice quavered as she asked, “What business do you have in the capital?”
“It’s where I’ll be trained.”
“Trained?” Her brows furrowed. “What’s going on, Liam?”
“Yes, trained—to join the Anatalian military. I’m going to be a soldier, Mother.” Clearing his throat, Liam extracted his arm from her grip and stepped back. He hated the broken look on her face. He had to stay strong. “I’ve already spoken to Father—”
His mother touched her cheek, her eyes wide, as though Liam had slapped her. Her voice small, she asked, “He agreed to this?”
Looking at the ground, Liam regretted not leaving her a letter and disappearing in the night. He hadn’t thought she’d take it this badly. “Yes…he thought it was a good idea for me. He said he was proud.”
Why was this so difficult for her? It should have been as simple as talking to his father, telling him he was going, and basking in the pride of wanting to serve his country.
Finally shaking free of her stupor, his mother cried, “I forbid it!”
“Mother, you can’t stop me. I’m a grown man.”
She let out a wail, grabbing his arm again. “It isn’t safe for you to leave! You can’t go, Liam. I don’t allow it!”
“You don’t have a choice.” He couldn’t let his resolve slip, no matter how upset she got—no matter how much it hurt to upset her. No matter how much she ignored how he already had his father’s permission. He was leaving, and that was final. Liam couldn’t live in her bubble of fear until one of them died. “I’m leaving today, and I wanted to say goodbye.”
His mother stumbled back, eyes shining with unshed tears. “You can’t go, Liam. It’s not safe.”
Liam straightened his shoulders, steeling himself. He couldn’t allow her to rob him of his life. “I can’t stay in this house forever, Mother. I’m not your little boy anymore.”
“You are my little boy—you’ll always be my little boy!” She wiped the tears from her reddened eyes. “You’re only eighteen. Aren’t you too young?”
“Most join when they’re fifteen, Mother,” Liam informed her. “I’ll be the oldest recruit there.”
“Then don’t go! Stay here, follow in your father’s footsteps. Stay here with us where it’s safe.”
Liam fought his rising disappointment. So much for a fond farewell. Nowhere was ever safe for her—would ever be safe for her. Liam gently took her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “I’m going to leave now, Mother. I’ll say goodbye to Father on my way out.”
Another sob escaped her lips. She put her hands on his arms, gripping them tightly. “Please, Liam. Please.”
His mouth turned downward, heaviness settling behind his eyes. He had to leave now, or he wouldn’t leave ever. Liam pulled her in close once more and kissed her on her hairline before letting go of her. “Goodbye, Mother. I’ll send word once I get there.”
“No!” She launched herself at him, grabbing onto anything that she could.
His shirt stretched in her hands as he walked away. Liam stole it from her fists, hesitating when she collapsed in a heap. Steeling himself, he took his bag from the floor. “I love you,” he called over her sobs.
His father waited for him at the end of the property, hand stuffed in his pockets. “I could hear her all the way from here.”
“She didn’t take it well, as you can tell.” Guilt rattled in his chest. He’d never seen his mother that upset before, much less been the one to cause it. “She wouldn’t even listen when I said you’d already approved.”
“No, I didn’t think that she would.” His father sighed. “So you’re leaving now?”
Liam nodded, bottom lip trembling for only a moment. “Yes…I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
His father pulled a small pouch from his pocket, handing it to Liam. “This is for your travels.”
The coins weighed heavily in his hand. “You didn’t need—”
“I did. I want you to be able to stay somewhere when you get to the capital.”
Liam rolled his bottom lip between his teeth, unsure of what to say next. He stuffed the pouch in his own pocket. “So this is goodbye.”
“I suspect it is.”
He squared his shoulders, shaking his hands out. He inhaled deeply to keep his burning eyes dry. “I’ll miss you and Mother.”
Clapping Liam on the shoulder, his father said, “We’ll miss you as well, but you’ll do great things for Anatalia. I know you will.”
Liam mustered a smile. “Thank you.”
“Go on now,” his father urged, waving toward the road. “You don’t want to waste the day.”
Nodding, Liam adjusted his pack. “Goodbye, Father.”
“Goodbye, Son.”
The day had finally come—Liam had finished his training and would swear his oath to the king and queen before he could formally join the Anatalian army. He ran his hand through his hair to straighten the fresh cut. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed it was just the way he liked. He and all of his fellow recruits had been pampered by servants to make sure they were presentable for royalty. It was the first time he’d ever been dressed by anyone who wasn’t family.
He couldn’t say he hated it.
When the servant returned with Liam’s ceremonial gloves, Liam lifted one of the unearned decorations, raising his brow at it. “This shouldn’t be here.”
“It’s for show, sir.” The servant took it from his hand and laid it flat, smoothing out the ribbon holding it in place. “They will not be included in your uniform upon departure.”
At last, Liam was the only soldier in the room. He would finally be presented to the king to swear his fealty. Liam loosed a yawn, covering his mouth with his fist. If he was tired, Liam imagined that the king must also be. He would keep his oath short. They were not given a script to follow but told to swear their oaths from the heart. Some of the men’s hearts must have been full, as Liam had been waiting three hours.
The herald returned for him, only nodding in his direction. There was no need for names—he was the only one left. There would be no mistakes as to whom he meant. Liam stood, smoothing out his wrinkled clothing. At this point, he doubted the king would even care he was wearing clothes. He, like Liam, probably just wanted to be done with the whole thing.
Liam followed the herald down a gilded hallway to the throne room. The floor looked to be solid marble; he could find no seams as he traveled. Chairs lined the corridor for nobles to rest in while they waited for petitions, their plush cushions overstuffed with cotton. The corner of Liam’s mouth pulled up. Why could they not have waited there instead?
The door at the end of the corridor opened when they approached, two guards pulling at the heavy oaken sections. Light poured through the open space, revealing a glittering throne room. There was more gold in the chandeliers alone than Liam had ever seen in his life. If he had been told to pick a single word to describe the throne room, it would have been gold. It extended from the chandeliers to the walls to the floors. It filled almost every corner, light bouncing off it, giving the room a slight glow.
Liam saw that both the king and Queen of Anatalia sat upon their thrones, simple circlets resting on their brows. The king’s brown hair hung to his shoulders, beard shot with white, framing his hard blue eyes. Liam had expected to see them in their full regalia and was almost underwhelmed by their plain dress.
He waited until he stood before them to bow deeply at the waist, remaining there until he was told to rise. Liam stood straight, shoulders back. “Your Majesties, I am humbled to be in your presence.”
“You may pledge your oath to me, soldier.” The king waved his hand, sounding bored.
Pulling his sword from its sheath, Liam knelt on one knee. “To His Majesty, I pledge my loyalty and fealty, endeavoring to only serve you and the realm as you deem fit.” Liam looked between the king and queen before continuing, “And to Her Majesty, I pledge my sword in protection if ever it need be used.” Upon finishing his oaths, Liam kissed the blade of his sword to seal his commitment.
King Sorren rose. He motioned for Liam to stand, and after doing so, raised the blade to his own mouth. “We accept your humble oaths and wish to see only your success. You may leave with our blessing.”
A thrill raced through Liam, his stomach tightening as he bowed his way out of the room. Once the doors were closed, he realized he had not even put away his sword. He let out a short laugh, returning it to its place.
With nowhere else to go, Liam returned to the training barracks. His things had already been packed for him and rested on top of his made bed. A note was pinned to the front of his satchel.
Report to your new barracks on the east side of campus. Sergeant Edwin will assign you a posting to serve.
Liam smiled, pulling his satchel on to his shoulder.