"Oh sir, you still have such wit even when your focus is elsewhere."
I shrugged. I'm glad he found that humorous since I fully believed it to be true. Dad, at least as a human, commanded attention. The subtle way he stood taller, straighter than the average man. The tranquilizing, yet demanding cadence in his voice that charmed anyone into bowing to his will. I clearly didn't inherit those skills.
Griswold laughed and shook his head. ”Your father was as nervous as a pig bound for slaughter as he stood outside this door. I think he may have even vomited a few times that morning as well. But in true Aldric fashion, he collected himself and dazzled the Council. Just as I'm sure you will." He fussed with my collar once more. "It's like looking into a mirror beyond time, seeing you stand here reminds me so much of that day. Like a painting. A moment captured in history.“
I tried to let his words sink in. Tried to take comfort in the sentiment, but the logical part of my brain wouldn’t let me. “Thank you, Griswold. I'm glad to have you here with me, as I'm sure my father was grateful for you as well."
The old man's wrinkled skin blossomed a pale pink. "Just doing my job, sir."
I stopped pacing and held the wall as I steadied myself against the dizzying sensation in limbs. ”How long have you worked at the castle exactly?"
His eyes rolled towards the ceiling as he tapped his index finger over his lips, contemplating the question. "It's been a very long time sir. Thirty-eight or forty years maybe?"
"So you were here the first time that my father…you know?”
"Yes. But that was a long time ago.” His posture stiffened and he inconspicuously slid back a step. “A dark time."
"But isn't it a dark time now too?”
He stared over my shoulder down the hall, refusing to meet my questioning stare or maybe reliving the past in his mind. "Fair point. But with each new year, we receive the opportunity to rewrite our own stories. This is now, and not then. We need to move forward and find a new solution. Besides, I’m afraid I don't have anything that will help with your father's curse. If I did I would be sure to share it with you and bring him home."
"I'm sure you would. But I wish I knew more about my father when he was younger, about what kind of leader he was, and even about how he met my mother."
"I am afraid I don't have much to tell." Griswold dropped his hands and stepped back again without trying to hide it this time. A chill infused the air between us. “And even then, it’s not my story. I suggest posing any questions to your mother first. If she would like me to discuss it further, that will be up to her."
"You have always been discreet, haven't you?"
"Of course, sir. It's all part of the job. Now if you will excuse me, I have other duties to attend to."
He turned on his heel, precise and sharp, then hurried back the direction he came.
"One more thing, Griswold,” He stopped and glanced over his shoulder, his blank expression clear that he didn't want to get involved with my line of questions.
"Have you ever heard of someone at the castle named Ed—"
The war room door thundered open and Mom slipped through the doorway, stepping in front of me. "Darling, you look wonderful."
I tilted my head around her, but Griswold had already disappeared. "Thanks."
"They’re ready to see you now." She tapped my shoulder then pulled the door open again guiding me through in front of her.
I walked into the center of the room, and took my place before the Council, my hands crossed politely behind my back and my shoulders rolled high to compensate for the weakness in my knees. Around the outer walls of the room hung luxurious red and gold tapestries that depicted battles won in times long past, and I chose to examine them, hoping it would be viewed as reverence and not just a stall to swallow down the dry bread-like lump in my throat. Mom strode around me to the far end of the long oak table that spread across the front of the room. Lord Covington, Lord Marchand, and Lord Anwar stood at attention as they adjusted their cuffs and engraved buttons on their jackets until my mother sat down and they could resume their seats.
"Your Majesty," Lord Anwar said. “It is a pleasure to finally see you in this context. I feel like it were mere moments ago that you were running through the castle halls brandishing a wooden sword in search of dragons."
The Council laughed, almost in unison. I gripped my right hand tighter with my left, still feeling ever the boy with the useless weapon.
He continued, “Let us first begin by assuring you that the Council operates to provide wisdom and guidance in the best interest of the crown and the kingdom. We will always be at your full disposal as king and—"
"I'm afraid you must have mistaken me for my father, the true king of Aboria."
The gentlemen looked quickly at each other, their wide stares flitting between the other faces at the table.
"Perhaps Lord Anwar misspoke, Prince Fallon,” Lord Marchand interjected from the middle of the table, his hands crossed politely on top of the oak. "As acting king, the Council will be at your full disposal with whatever you may need."
“Yes, exactly. Thank you.” Lord Anwar cleared his throat. "However, we must address the fact that the longer your father remains in his condition, the quicker we need to solidify your claim with a full coronation. The turbulent times at the castle are a call to any other parties who wish to seek the throne for themselves."
"What other parties? With my father still alive,
