Christopher saw Adam’s retreat and followed after him so he could not escape. “Just, please, Adam, answer my question, will you? It would mean a lot to me,” Christopher said, giving Adam his best pouty face, the one he knew the man could not deny.
His assistant stopped and sighed again, then looked down at him. “Well, my Prince, let me just make the comment that I think the royal treasury gets quite a bit larger each year, despite the fact that we have so many banquets. I will not judge any more than that, though.”
Christopher let out a slight snicker as a smile crept upon his lips. “Tell me then, Adam, do you think a seven-percent tax rate would be enough to run everything, especially if there were fewer banquets?” He stuck with ‘fewer’ instead of ‘no more’ for fear of Adam fainting at the idea of no more banquets ever. Baby steps and all.
“Well, Sire-”
“Please, Adam, we’ve known each other since I was six, we’ve been best friends the whole time. Just because you’re my advisor doesn’t mean we still have to be formal. Please, don’t call me ‘Sire’ or ‘Lord’ or ‘my Prince.’ Just call me Chris.”
“Of course, my Prince, how silly of me. I shall try to be less formal in the future, if you wish,” Adam said with another bow.
Christopher shook his head and Adam stopped halfway through the bow and shot back up.
“Yes, well, I think the transition would be a hard one to make, but I think a lower rate might be possible, yes. Maybe even a rate that low.” Adam bit his hip. “And the peasants would be happier.”
“Thank you for your help, Adam, you have helped me figure out an important part of my policy for when I am king – may it be years away, of course. That is all I will be needing for now. Thank you again for being patient with me. I have to get ready for this banquet in my honor tonight, so you may leave.” He dismissed the man with a wave of a hand.
“You are very welcome, my Prince. I have something I must attend to as well, so I will be seeing you later. Goodbye, Sire!” Adam yelled out as he ran down the hall quickly and disappeared around the next corner.
“Don’t you be calling me ‘Sire!’” Christopher shouted back, knowing Adam would not hear, and even if he did would not heed the words anyway.
He sighed, wishing he could have real friends who called him by name, but knowing that would not happen for some time since he was ‘royalty,’ while they were just ‘commoners.’ Christopher cursed his royalty and the banquet as he continued on towards his room. He soon remembered Adam’s words about his mother and took back the curse words. He told himself to have more resolve, but quickly forgot the matter, having other things on his mind.
Ah, now where might my personal bodyguard, Talon, be? Christopher thought as he neared his bedroom, which was, incidentally, right next to his father’s bedroom. He thought briefly of how his father loved him at least enough to give him his own personal bodyguard, who just happened to be the best fighter around, even if he himself thought such things to be unnecessary. No one had attacked a Coontan royal in over a hundred years, even outside the castle.
Let me think, Christopher continued, his mind back on Talon’s whereabouts, could he be right outside my door where he always waits while I talk with Dad? I bet he is. Man, it seems there’s nothing I can do without Talon being right there beside me these days, except talk to Dad, which usually doesn’t end up too well, anyway. I just hope nothing disastrous happens to someone in the castle, or I won’t be able to go to the bathroom anymore. Talon will start doing it for me in case 'the latrine is poisoned' or something. I can just see it now.
He shuddered at his own mental image. I need to find a way to get rid of him and get out of here.
Christopher thought no more of it for the moment, knowing that Talon would come looking for him soon if he didn’t ‘report in.’ Of course, the worst part of that was that Talon would surely find him. The big man had an amazing ability to track people.
“Talon, would you kindly come here and talk to me a while?” Christopher asked from the corner right in front of his room. He always liked to get the first word in with Talon, and he found this a good way to do so.
“What is it that you require, my liege?” Talon asked with a little too much excitement as he made his presence known. Christopher looked up at the big man in awe in spite of himself. He’d seen his bodyguard on several occasions, but the sight was no less striking. At a height of seven feet, Talon towered over other men, and he was broad and well-muscled to boot. He wore a beard, which was unusual for guardsmen, and his hair was barely starting to gray at the temples.
Christopher smiled at him. He figured Talon found this bodyguarding thing a little boring as well. He was known as the Shadow-Warrior of Coontan for a reason, and it wasn’t because of his prowess as a babysitter.
From the stories the soldiers at the barracks told him while they thought no one was listening, Talon had been a top-notch warrior and general back in the day. It was said he once took on an entire enemy army alone and lived to tell about it. Christopher figured that last story was an exaggeration, but there must have been some truth to it.
I hate it when people call me ‘my liege’ almost more than ‘sire’ or ‘lord!’
Talon, like Adam, had known him for many years, and he hated for people who
