Mavril’s account last year, and he makes it a lot more interesting than Zage.”
“Zage understands the nuances of how Pendark relates to Vertigon—and how they make use of our Fire exports. Mavril is propaganda written for an adoring Pendarkan audience. Zage himself spent time in Pendark during his youth studying with the Watermight practitioners. You must listen to him.”
“I’ll work on it.” Siv started to stand, but his father stopped him with a word.
“Sivarrion.”
Siv sighed. “I know. Responsibility. Duty to the kingdom. Studies. I understand it’s important, but I have plenty of time.”
“You may think you do, but you need more experience, son. I want you to take a larger role in governance.”
“The kingdom is doing fine without me,” Siv said. “I know what I have to do eventually. Rule. Reproduce. Be wise and good and responsible. But it’ll be years yet before it matters.” The last thing he wanted to do was spend even more time studying matters of state. He read a lot. That should be enough for the next few years.
“Becoming wise takes longer than you think,” the king said. He popped a small plum into his mouth.
“Sure it does.” Siv reached for an apple from his father’s plate. “But I’ve got the perfect model. I’ll just become you when I’m old.”
The king raised an eyebrow. “Flattery won’t get you out of every scenario, you know.” His face softened. “You’ll find your own way, son. Every ruler does. I don’t rule like my father, and you won’t rule like yours.”
Siv didn’t think it would be bad at all to rule like his father. Sevren led Vertigon with an easy hand. He relied on people who were good at their jobs, like Zage the Fire Warden, Pavvoran the General, and his buddy Bandobar, the Captain of the Castle Guard. It was all about delegating tasks. There should be plenty of time left for dueling practice and sleeping in.
“So what was more important than both blue plums and Fireworkers?” the king asked.
Siv knew there was no point in lying now that he’d been caught. “I was playing cards with Bolden Rollendar.”
“Ah. Another important family. You must be wary of your friendship with him. The Rollendar family doesn’t always have the interests of the city at heart.”
“I know. Better to keep him close, don’t you think?” There was a chance Siv could still spin this his way.
“Perhaps.” The king frowned. “But be wary. And don’t skip lessons. You know how Zage gets when he’s offended.” The king and the Fire Warden had worked together since before Siv could walk. He was pretty sure his father would always take Zage’s side if the Fire Warden said he wasn’t studying hard enough.
“It won’t happen again,” Siv said.
“Excellent.” The king folded his arms. “And another thing: you still smell of liquor. That and sweat.”
Siv rolled his eyes. “Now you sound like Mother. It’s all part of the game. You don’t want me to stop drinking, do you?”
“Goodness, no. But you must be careful of leaving yourself vulnerable. A king can’t be seen to be out of control at any time.”
“I’m not out of control,” Siv said. “In fact, I’ve already had a healthy training session this morning.” He glanced at his father. “And I’m not a king.”
“The people’s memory of you will remain.”
“You’ll be king for another thirty years.” Siv knew he’d have to be responsible one day. And he would be. He loved Vertigon, the heady mountain slopes, the crisp lines of the bridges, the mist and magic of it. He’d take care of it. Eventually.
The king shook his head. “You know the saying: the people of Vertigon have memories as long as the mountain is tall. They can’t see you as an irresponsible young man.”
“I am a young man,” Siv said. He stood, planning to pace around the room, until his head gave a warning throb. He settled for leaning against the table. “I’ll have plenty of time to meet with
“Zage understands the nuances of how Pendark relates to Vertigon—and how they make use of our Fire exports. Mavril is propaganda written for an adoring Pendarkan audience. Zage himself spent time in Pendark during his youth studying with the Watermight practitioners. You must listen to him.”
“I’ll work on it.” Siv started to stand, but his father stopped him with a word.
“Sivarrion.”
Siv sighed. “I know. Responsibility. Duty to the kingdom. Studies. I understand it’s important, but I have plenty of time.”
“You may think you do, but you need more experience, son. I want you to take a larger role in governance.”
“The kingdom is doing fine without me,” Siv said. “I know what I have to do eventually. Rule. Reproduce. Be wise and good and responsible. But it’ll be years yet before it matters.” The last thing he wanted to do was spend even more time studying matters of state. He read a lot. That should be enough for the next few years.
“Becoming wise takes longer than you think,” the king said. He popped a small plum into his mouth.
“Sure it does.” Siv reached for an apple from his father’s plate. “But I’ve got the perfect model. I’ll just become you when I’m old.”
The king raised an eyebrow. “Flattery won’t get you out of every scenario, you know.” His face softened. “You’ll find your own way, son. Every ruler does. I don’t rule like my father, and you won’t rule like yours.”
Siv didn’t think it would be bad at all to rule like his father. Sevren led Vertigon with an easy hand. He relied on people who were good at their jobs, like Zage the Fire Warden, Pavvoran the General, and his buddy Bandobar, the Captain of the Castle Guard. It was all about delegating tasks. There should be plenty of time left for dueling practice and sleeping in.
“So what was more important than both blue plums and Fireworkers?” the king asked.
Siv knew there was no point in lying now that he’d been caught. “I was playing cards with Bolden Rollendar.”
“Ah. Another important family. You must be wary of your friendship with him. The Rollendar family doesn’t always have the interests of the city at heart.”
“I know. Better to keep him close, don’t you think?” There was a chance Siv could still spin this his way.
“Perhaps.” The king frowned. “But be wary. And don’t skip lessons. You know how Zage gets when he’s offended.” The king and the Fire Warden had worked together since before Siv could walk. He was pretty sure his father would always take Zage’s side if the Fire Warden said he wasn’t studying hard enough.
“It won’t happen again,” Siv said.
“Excellent.” The king folded his arms. “And another thing: you still smell of liquor. That and sweat.”
Siv rolled his eyes. “Now you sound like Mother. It’s all part of the game. You don’t want me to stop drinking, do you?”
“Goodness, no. But you must be careful of leaving yourself vulnerable. A king can’t be seen to be out of control at any time.”
“I’m not out of control,” Siv said. “In fact, I’ve already had a healthy training session this morning.” He glanced at his father. “And I’m not a king.”
“The people’s memory of you will remain.”
“You’ll be king for another thirty years.” Siv knew he’d have to be responsible one day. And he would be. He loved Vertigon, the heady mountain slopes, the crisp lines of the bridges, the mist and magic of it. He’d take care of it. Eventually.
The king shook his head. “You know the saying: the people of Vertigon have memories as long as the mountain is tall. They can’t see you as an irresponsible young man.”
“I am a young man,” Siv said. He stood, planning to pace around the room, until his head gave a warning throb. He settled for leaning against the table. “I’ll have plenty of time to meet with
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