~*~
The prince fidgeted or sat at the end of his bed quietly thinking most of the night, so Kwestor remained awake, too. He did not do so out of sympathy, precisely. He could not console Donald, although he fully understood the young man’s disappointment. Eventually, the prince would have to learn that the real world and the one in his head were not the same place. It could be a hard lesson, but not learning it would be even worse for him in the long run. Of that, Kwestor was certain.
The next morning, they gathered for an early breakfast. When they got to the buffet, Kwestor got himself a bowl of porridge. The prince sparsely populated his plate with a couple sausages and some pancakes. Muce piled up a big plate of sausages, fried potatoes, and more sausages.
“Have you given any more thought to going to Dolphin Point, Your Highness?” Muce asked hopefully as they settled to attend to their meals.
“Well, since we know the Warden isn’t a threat, I suppose…” He stopped in mid sentence. “Hold on! We know it’s not a threat, but my father doesn’t! He’s probably still preparing for war, and if the Gotroxians find out about that, well, we might really have one! We need to get back to Greatbridge to tell him.”
“I don’t think that’s n…” Kwestor began but quickly reconsidered. “Actually, that is probably a good idea.”
The king could be a reasonably calm and rational man where matters of state were concerned, but Kwestor suspected his political staff included hotheads and self-serving parasites who were far more typical of humanity in general. Some of them would not hesitate to try to influence him through misinformation and outright lies for personal gain or to further their own agendas, and this whole thing smelled as though something along those lines might be going on. Perhaps the prince could defuse a potentially explosive situation by talking to his father.
In the long run, of course, it would make little difference. People would always find excuses to kill one another, but, as futile as it might be, Kwestor felt a certain obligation to prevent such things from happening near him, if he could.
“It is?” asked the prince in apparent surprise at the ranger’s comment.
“Yes.”
“Well, then. Let’s get back to Greatbridge. We should leave right away.”
A fresh glimmer appeared in the prince’s eye, and Kwestor feared the young man was substituting a new fantasy for the one about the Warden, which circumstances and experience no longer allowed him to entertain. At least he would finally be going back to the capital.
“Come on, we have a war to stop!” Donald said, rising from the table.
“I’ll be up after I’m done eating,” Kwestor said.
“All right, but don’t be long.”
An eager smile remained on the prince’s lips as he marched up the stairs to his room to pack.
Muce also lingered in the dining room and waved to the young waitress to get her attention.
“What can I get for you?” she asked politely.
“I’d like to get a sack of those sausages to bring along when we go.”
“Sure. They made extra today because of what your friend said yesterday. How many would you like?”
“How many do you have?”
Chapter Fifteen