The Crown Affair - 4. Chapter 4 - A Friendship is Born

Sixth day of the eleventh lumin (Kask-Lumin) 2025 of the modern calendar:

Josh woke the next morning to find Max already in his bedchamber.

“Good morning, Your Highness.” Max pulled back the purple velvet curtains and the early morning sun shone through the window. Even though temperature-wise, snow season had arrived in Salania in the middle of the previous lumin, the page boy was surprised that there still had not been the snowflurries that were indicative of the time of year.

Josh yawned and stretched out. “Good morning, Max.” Max turned to face the prince. As soon as Josh realised what he had just said, he corrected himself. “I’m sorry Page.”

Max steeled himself for the prince’s reaction, but decided to give the whole friendship thing a go. “Your Highness, if I may be so bold. You may feel free to call me ‘Max’, if you so wish.”

Although Josh was still half-asleep, he was more than awake enough for the offer to surprise him. However, he decided not to make a sarcastic crack about ‘familiarity between master and servant’; after all, he hoped to befriend Max.

“Thank you, Max.” He wondered what had precipitated the page’s offer, but he wasn’t about to question it.

Josh went into his bathroom and began his morning routine, leaving Max to his duties. Max rooted around in the wardrobe and pulled out the clothes for Josh to wear. He quickly tidied around and noted that he would need to get one of the chamber maids to give the rooms a thorough going over.

Max surprised himself when he realised that he had actually liked it when the prince had called him ‘Max’ instead of ‘Page’; at least, when the prince had called him ‘Max’ on purpose, instead of accidentally. Max knew that Josh calling him by his proper name was a necessary first step towards becoming friends with the prince, but found that he liked the dropping of the formalities between them; more accurately, asking Josh to drop the formalities of addressing him.

Max had originally thought that he would dread the idea of trying to befriend the prince, after all, he was only supposed to be doing this as a favour to Mr Flowers, and, indirectly, King Kenneth, but now he was actually looking forward to the possibility. The only thing he was unsure of, was how he would react if the prince ever dared to ask to be called ‘Josh’; Max decided that he would spend the next few days thinking on how to deal with that eventuality, if and when, it ever happened.

Max had worked in the palace since he was ten cycles old, and as his parents were prominent members of the palace staff, he was well versed in the protocols of serving the royal family. He knew exactly how unusual the request that had been made of him to befriend the prince was; even allowing the prince to call him ‘Max’ was considered a serious breach of protocol and discipline.

Josh came out of his bathroom and saw that Max had already laid his clothes out for him, a casual shirt and a pair of jeans. Josh knew and accepted that this was part of Max’s duties, but just the thought of someone else deciding what he would wear at the age of fourteen cycles seemed ludicrous, he’d been picking his own clothes out since he was six; then he thought about the even more ludicrous idea of Faxon deciding what his father would wear.

Max was shocked that the prince had emerged from the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist and with his hair still dripping wet. Although he only looked at the prince for a second, the page boy felt his cheeks blush. Although he tried, there was no way he could summon the courage to inform the prince that it was highly inappropriate for him to be in such a condition in front of the staff. Max knew that he could not be in the prince’s presence like this, so he quickly bowed to Josh and then excused himself.

Josh, completely oblivious to the page’s discomfort, dressed and readied himself for his first full day at the palace. He checked the clock on his bedside table and saw that it was five minutes shy of the ninth hour. He hurried down to the breakfast room, passing several of the palace staff on his way.

Josh greeted each with a cheery ‘Fair Day’, and his greeting was returned with a slightly more formal and rigid ’Good morning, Your Highness’.

‘Seems as though a morning greeting from the prince is not being overly familiar’ Josh thought, though he took note that perhaps he should use ‘Good Morning’ in the future. He was right in his assumption about acknowledging the staff though; after all, there was a difference between maintaining a formal relationship with them and simply being rude. Still, Josh struggled with trying to get his head around what was, and what wasn’t, being overly familiar with the staff.

He entered the breakfast room and unconsciously sat down next to his aunt.

“Good morning Aunt Mildrea. Good morning Mum and Dad.”

“Good morning, Josh,” said his aunt.

“Good morning, son,” said his parents in near unison. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by either of his parents that Josh had taken the seat closest to his aunt, and that he had greeted her first.

Maria hoped that she was just overanalysing the situation; Josh would understandably be closer to her sister for now, given that Mildrea had raised the boy and showered him with a mother’s love and affection, even more so since she didn’t have children of her own.

During her own childhood, Maria had been raised by her aunt and uncle (her mother’s youngest brother and his wife), but since they had three children of their own, Maria was never overly close to them; they were certainly no closer than any other aunt, uncle, and niece. When she finally did move into the palace after her Coming of Age, she just naturally gravitated to her parents. It took her a while to get over her resentment of growing up without contact from them, but by the time she was invested as the Crowned Princess of Salania, she had not only forgiven her parents, but it was as though they had always been a part of her life. She hoped that she would one day truly receive her son’s forgiveness.

The serving girls brought out the breakfast, and Josh managed to contain himself to simply saying, “Good morning, Sally.”

“Good morning, Your Highness.” She placed his plate in front of him on the table and then she hurried off to collect a pitcher of fruit juice. She poured him a large glass of sickly-sweet forest plum juice and disappeared into the kitchens.

Josh sighed deeply as he watched her scurry away. He doubted that he would ever get used to treating a girl younger than he was in such a cold and formal manner. Just because Sally had been raised to expect to be treated in such a manner, and he had been told that was simply the way the master and servant relationship worked, did not make it right in his eyes.

Josh also thought about how he was going to address the issue of being served what was probably his most hated drink on the planet without reducing his serving girl to tears. He decided he’d simply mention to the kitchen staff his dislike of forest plum juice and request an alternative. He certainly didn’t want to make something out of such an insignificant thing as what he was served for breakfast; though he did find it more than a little strange that the royal family were not given a choice in their breakfast beverage.

Maria pondered on her son’s actions. She saw him watch the vivacious young serving girl as she hurried about her morning duties, and she heard the sigh.

‘Seems as though my boy has a crush’ Maria thought.

She knew from the numerous conversations that she had had with her sister over the cycles that Josh had never had a girlfriend. Actually, as far as Mildrea knew, there had never even been a girl who had as much as caught Josh’s eye. Maria had never been worried about it, constantly reminding her younger sister that she had never really looked at boys until after her Coming of Age. Maria was also well aware that Josh was far more interested in hanging out with his friend Nate. Though she had been no different at that age herself - friends came first, family came second, and her boyfriend hunting came in a very paltry third.

‘Sally’s a sweet girl, and a nice choice for a first crush, at least my boy has good taste. Just a shame there is no way that anything could ever come of it. Protocol can be a bloody nuisance at times.’ Maria just prayed that her son would be able to control himself and not allow this crush of his to overwhelm the poor serving girl.

She had heard of similar, or worse, things happening in other kingdoms. She, along with several other monarchs, had heard the disturbing rumours that the King and Queen of the Kingdom of Shering had apparently paid off four serving girls whom their son had gotten in the family way during the six lumins prior to his coronation, four cycles ago. What was even more terrifying was that apparently two of those impregnations had occurred unwillingly.

Shering was a remote, and lately, an increasingly secretive Kingdom, with very little influence, or interest, outside of its own four walls. Shering had gone into total lockdown just over three cycles ago, so nobody really knew whether the rumours were true, or if they were fabricated.

If the rumours were accurate, and the monarchs of the other kingdoms all hoped that they were not, nobody knew if any sanctions had ever been levied against their Crowned Prince or not. The reasons for the lockdown have never been explained, and nobody has ever tried to ask. Technically, it was the responsibility of the Grand Kingdom of Haraxi to demand an answer from them, but it was common knowledge in diplomatic circles that Shering had long since withdrawn its emissary from Haraxi.

Each of the kingdoms of Relan was technically subordinate to one of the four Grand Kingdoms. Relan was, and still is, divided into the four ancient Hegemonies: the Northern Hegemony, the Southern Hegemony, the Eastern Hegemony, and the Western Hegemony.

The division had occurred long before the modern calendar, during the time of the Great Conflict of The Age; a terrible war that had ravaged the entire realm and had lasted for nearly five hundred cycles. It had claimed the lives of nearly one third of the armies and just over two percent of the general population.

Each of the Grand Kingdoms was, in theory at least, in overall control of the Hegemony that it was in, with Salania being in charge of the Northern Hegemony. As the cycles, centuries and millennia have passed, there had been more and more relaxing of the old caste system, and in modern times a Grand Kingdom was really a Grand Kingdom in name only.

In the old days, each kingdom used to have to pay tribute every lumin, and the eldest daughter of each of the royal families was sent as a bride for the Crowned Prince upon their Coming of Age, meaning that the Crowned Prince of the Grand Kingdom had himself quite a little harem.

All land in the Hegemony belonged to the Grand Kingdom, and their army was in overall command of the armed forces of all of their subordinate kingdoms.

An emissary from each royal palace was also positioned at the Grand Kingdom, who acted as a liaison, and it was through this envoy that orders were passed, tribute was calculated, complaints were raised, and matters of law addressed.

That was in the old days, but now with the caste system all but dead, each kingdom was pretty much left to its own devices, and they answered to nobody, some did not even answer to their own consciences. Many of the envoys were still in place, but their role had essentially become a ceremonial one, and the post was often awarded to a public official who was a few cycles away from retiring. Every kingdom now had complete autonomy and possession of its lands and armies.

Queen Maria shrugged off her daydream, just as Sally returned.

“Your toast, Your Highness.” She placed the toast next to him, along with a selection of preserves, and disappeared again before Josh could as much as blink.

Josh only picked at his breakfast and he politely sipped at the stomachchurningly vile fruit juice. He was not really even listening to the conversation that was taking place between the adults at the table.

Queen Maria was right on one score; her son was indeed deep in the throes of calf love, but just not with the serving girl. The thought of the day when he would have to reveal the truth about him being a samer to his parents, and then tell them that he was in love with Nate, terrified him beyond description.

He was the heir to the throne, and it was his responsibility, whether he lived to become king or not, to continue the Tierney bloodline. He’d heard about the new experiments that the doctors were doing; growing babies in a lab, getting women pregnant without them having sex, and the such. Although the ideas were unsettling to him for reasons he did not know or fully understand, Josh realised that something like that may well be the only way he’d ever be able to have a child of his own, unless he adopted a child. Except, of course, under the law as it stood, adopted children were not permitted to inherit the throne.

‘I’m only fourteen cycles of age, I’ll worry about having kids when I’m older,’ he thought, little realising that he would be expected to choose his future queen within the next cycle or two.

After finishing his breakfast and leaving his fruit juice barely touched, Josh excused himself from the table and returned to his bedroom. He picked up his most treasured of books, ‘The Odyssey of the Soul’, that he had been reading for the umpteenth time and which he was currently about halfway through reading. He poured himself a glass of cloudfruit juice and took a few sips. Unlike most of his family and friends, Josh loved the tartness of the cloudfruit, so he didn’t like to mix it with other sweeter juices.

Josh licked his lips and sighed, as the very dry, very sour, yet very flavourful juice ran down his throat. “Now this is what you call fruit juice.” The prince was, of course, unaware that he had actually spoken those word aloud.

Josh had always been a big reader, even before Mildrea had given him his own copy of the book ‘The Odyssey of the Soul’ for his seventh birthday; she hadn’t given him just any old copy either, it was a near mint condition, first edition, signed by all of the original authors.

‘The Odyssey of the Soul’ was a collection of seventy different stories written by sixteen different authors, with each story set in Relan’s distant past. The stories contained tales about treasure, quests, demons, giants, magic, and folklore; some stories, such as ‘The Boy and his Cordax’ and ‘The Queen’s Dinner’ were humourous, whilst others, such as ‘The Tale of the Dark Rose’ and ‘A Daughter for a Demon’ were considered to be amongst the scariest stories in Relanist literature.

‘The Odyssey of the Soul’ was a very popular book amongst all of Relan’s children. It was read in nearly every single school, in all forty kingdoms, to children from the age of five cycles up to the age of sixteen cycles; though with some of the scarier stories, such as ‘The Tale of the Dark Rose’ and ‘The Heart of the Rock’, being omitted until the kids were older. Even though it had been written nearly nine hundred cycles ago, it had easily stood the test of time, and now practically every child in Relan could recite at least one of the seventy stories from memory; Josh just happened to be one of the very few who could probably recite all seventy from memory.

Most children, Patrician and Plebeian alike, had their own copy of the book, since it had been a traditional birthday gift to give before a child reached the age of ten cycles, for the past twenty generations; just not very many people owned a first edition, as it was extremely expensive, even by Patrician standards. It had cost Mildrea over seven lumins of her income, almost enough to purchase a small cottage in the Salanian countryside, but as far as she was concerned, it was a small price to pay for her nephew’s happiness.

Josh had started reading ‘The Odyssey of the Soul’ in school, from a very old and very tatty school copy that had long since seen better days; pages were dog-eared, the front cover was hanging off, and some of the binding along the spine had come loose. Josh, however, was mesmerised by the stories and his class would often act out some of them, so he had asked his aunt if she would buy him a copy of his own. At the time, he knew he was younger than children usually were when they received their first copy of the book, but he could read as well as, or better than, most children who were ten cycles old , and he often devoured four hundred page books in as little as a day.

In spite of the fact that he was only going to be seven cycles old on his next birthday he just knew that his aunt would buy him it. However, he had only ever expected one of the modern prints of the book that most children, even Patrician children, owned. Even at the age of six cycles, Josh knew that although his aunt was extremely wealthy and very generous with her money, however she wasn’t known to make extravagant purchases. About as extravagant as she ever got, was the prime boar steak they had once a lumin and the occasional piece of Velvet Darkwood chocolate from the Kingdom of Syrash.

When his birthday finally came around, and Josh opened his present and saw that it was a first edition of the book, he cried a river of tears and hugged his aunt. Although he had only turned seven, he had more than a vague idea of just how much first edition books cost, and never thought for one minute that she would spend that kind of money on a gift for him. That was the day that Josh came to realise just how much his aunt truly loved him, and that was also the day that he promised himself that he would never do anything to disappoint her, or to make her ashamed of him.

Josh laid down on his bed with ‘The Tale of the Dark Rose’, his personal favourite of the entire ‘The Odyssey of the Soul’ (with the story of ‘The Boy and his Cordax’ coming a very close second), and found where he had finished reading up to.

The two boys slowly approached the Dark Rose.

The gemstone that was supposed to be myth.

The gemstone that the most learned scholars in the realm had called fantasy.

The gemstone that was said cannot possibly exist as it defied the laws of Nature and the laws of The Goddess.

The giant black flecked blood red gemstone sat on a rock altar in the middle of the cavern. Light from the nearby torches and candles danced off it. Draped over the altar was a cloth as black as a starless night, with paled writing on it in the Ancient Language, which, at least according to legend, had been written in the blood of a sacrificial twelve cycle old virgin.

The boys looked at the cloth and nodded to each other. The very presence of the cloth served to confirm in their minds that they were truly looking upon the Dark Rose of myth and legend.

The cloth itself was supposed to have powers over life and death. It was just one more reason why Mira and Cetus had risked life and limb to find these most prized of treasures.

The walls of the cavern were decorated in strips of black cloth that depended from the ceiling. Each strip was decorated with the symbols and runes of long lost, and long forgotten, evil magics.

Looking upon the gem for the first time, they both knew instantly why this stone had garnered such a reputation over the millennia.

There were stories about the power of the stone, which had led archaeologists, fortune hunters, the power hungry, and even those from the insensible lunatic fringe element to hunt for it.

Josh rolled over onto his belly and curled up around the book. He absentmindedly ran a hand over the nape of his neck to calm the rising hairs, and his heart sped up as a macabre sort of anticipation swept over him, as he knew full well what was to happen next. For as many times as Josh had read ‘The Tale of the Dark Rose’, and in spite of the fact that he knew it word for word, he never failed to get caught up in the emotions and the magics of the tale. Once he had gotten himself comfortable again, Josh resumed reading.

Throughout history, whosoever had possessed the Dark Rose had become a ruthless and insuperable conqueror. The evil of the stone had quickly filled their hearts and it completely supplanted any good they felt, but they had also garnered wealth that was far beyond the imagination of mere mortal men.

It was that fascination of acquiring such wealth, which had led to the Dark Rose being hunted by all and sundry. Myth or not, legend or not, the lure was more than strong enough to override even the most sane and educated of minds.

Mira and Cetus closed in on the altar. They could already feel the evil coming off of the Dark Rose in waves and they were terrified by it, and of it. The two boys had been friends for as long as they could remember, and they had pledged to equally share the wealth that the Dark Rose would grant them.

Cetus fell a few steps behind his childhood friend. The voices spoke to him again.

‘Mira will betray you’.

‘Mira cannot be trusted’.

‘Mira will kill you as soon as you have outlived your usefulness’.

Josh’s neck hairs bristled again. It was almost as if he were feeling what Cetus was feeling. It was almost as if he were hearing the voices that Cetus was hearing. By now, Josh was completely caught up in the narrative; he was no longer reading the story, he was living the story. His heart began to beat faster in response to a sudden release of adrenaline into his system

Although Cetus tried to ignore those voices, although Cetus tried to refuse to believe any of that about his childhood friend, he couldn’t deny the truth about Mira.

It was Mira who had always been their de facto leader.

It was Mira who was the one who craved power.

It was Mira who was the one who craved wealth.

Just how far could Mira be trusted?

The voices persisted. ‘You must do unto Mira before he can do unto you’.

Cetus gave into those voices. He felt into the back of his belt and pulled out a ten inch serrated dagger. As the boys approached the Dark Rose, the voices that Cetus alone could hear increased in volume and speed.

‘Mira will betray you’.

‘Mira cannot be trusted’.

‘Mira will betray you’.

‘Mira cannot be trusted’.

Cetus crept up slowly on Mira.

He could feel a cold settle into his heart.

He could feel the cold of the metal hilt in his hand.

He was about to kill his childhood friend, his only true friend.

He was within striking distance.

Cetus was no longer the boy Mira knew and trusted; he was now a clinical and calculating assassin.

As always happened at this point, Josh desperately wanted to scream out to Cetus to stop listening to those voices, he desperately wanted to yell out to Cetus that Mira was his friend. Josh, who in his whole life had never as much as killed a forestfly, wondered how Cetus could be yielding to the voices, how Cetus could be preparing to extinguish the life of his childhood friend.

‘Mira will betray you’, ‘Mira cannot be trusted’.

‘Mira will betray you’, ‘Mira cannot be trusted’.

‘You must kill him now’

‘You must kill him NOW’.

Cetus grabbed Mira by the neck and plunged the dagger into his back as far as it would go. The blade pierced one of Mira’s lungs on the way through, and the first couple of inches of the blade appeared though the front of his jumper.

As dark red blood flowed over Cetus’ hands, Mira’s screams echoed -

“Arrrrggggghhhh!” Josh screamed. His heart was pounding triple time and he was breathing even faster. Josh had felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around, and saw it was Max. “By the fucking Great Serpent, Max! What the fuck are you doing! Trying to kill me?”

Max dropped to his knees, cowed on the floor and trembled before the angry prince. “Y-Y-Your High-High-Highness. M-M-My a-a-apologies.”

Josh put a hand on his thumping heart and took a few deep breaths. Once he had his heart beating normally again and had regained control of his emotions, he saw that Max was cowering on the floor. Josh gently took him by the arm to help up, and that was when Josh saw the younger boy was pale and crying, his heart broke at the sight.

“Max, I’m so, so, sorry.” Josh wrapped his arms around Max and thought ‘Protocol be damned’. He just held Max and whispered over and over how sorry he was until Max finally stopped crying.

Max couldn’t deny he felt so comfortable in the prince’s arms, perhaps a little too comfortable, but he still struggled to free himself. ‘Protocol always come first’ Max thought.

Josh freed the wriggling page boy, and that was when Max noticed that Josh’s blue eyes were sparkling with unshed tears of his own. Max turned to flee from the room, but Josh took him by the arm.

“Max, I am really sorry. I had absolutely no right to speak to you like that.” Max still looked deathly pale, and Josh thought the page boy was a hair away from vomiting.

“Your-” That was as far as Max got, before he put his hand over his mouth and ran into Josh’s bathroom as quickly as his feet could carry him. Josh heard Max being sick, so he went into the bathroom and found Max hunched over the toilet wiping his mouth with a piece of tissue.

Josh felt even worse than he already did. Max had gone from being the overly protocol driven yet affable page boy who only that morning had told Josh that he could break protocol and call him ‘Max’, to being a cowering petrified boy throwing up in Josh’s toilet; all because Josh had been surprised by his entrance and spoke before he thought.

Josh knelt down on the floor next to Max and wrapped an arm around him. ‘Are you OK, Max?”

Max just weakly nodded his head and tried to get to his feet, but was unsteady enough that Josh had to support him. Josh sat Max down at the alvanwood table that stood in the middle of his chambers and poured the page boy a glass of water.

“Here Max, drink this.”

After Max had drunk the glass of water, he said, “Thank you, Your Highness.” Max’s shy smile was more than Josh could bear. He blinked a couple of times, and a single tear ran down his cheek.

“Max, I really am sorry.” Josh realised he was repeating himself, but he felt that he needed to convince Max of his sincerity. “I was so engrossed in reading my book that I just didn’t hear you come in, and you scared the shit out of me. But that doesn’t for one second excuse the way I spoke to you.”

“You have no need to apologise to me.”

“Max, yes I do. By the Great Serpent, I do.”

“Your Highness, I am your servant, and you are within your rights to–”

“All right Max, stop right there.” Josh kept his voice quiet and calm, and whether appropriate or not, he put an arm around Max’s shoulders and held him. “Yes, I am the Prince of Salania, and yes, you have been assigned to me as a personal aide—” Josh just couldn’t bring himself to use the word he hated above all others ‘servant’, “—but that does not give me, or anyone else, the right to speak to you the way I just did. I’m sure there are princes and princesses, and kings and queens, out there who speak to their staff with nothing but distain, but that’s not who I am. By the grace of The Great Serpent, I never will be.”

Max quietly thought over what Josh had just said. It was true, that the palace staff in Salania were treated fairly and were always spoken to with respect, and Max had never known the king or queen to ever raise their voice, even when chastising one of the staff. He also knew the horror stories of other kingdoms, where even page boys as young he were often beaten for the tiniest of perceived infractions until they started bleeding, or they simply passed out from the pain. The younger staff were also treated no better than diseased vermin, or they were housed six page boys to a room, usually in a room that was half the size of his own private room.

Max was beginning to realise just how unfairly he had originally judged Joshua; after all, how many princes would not only apologise for losing their temper at one of the staff, but to even console and comfort them afterwards?

Max’s mother had died during childbirth, no man had ever come forward to claim the boy as his son, and in spite of an exhaustive search, no living relatives were ever found. Max was therefore taken in by Rasunal’s ‘Orphanage of the Goddess’; the largest of the three orphanages in Salania.

At the age of sixteen lumins, he was entered into the foster care of a couple who worked in the royal palace, Janice and Antony Flowers, who at the time were senior chamber maid and second footman respectively. At the age of six cycles, Max was formally adopted by the couple, but Max decided to keep his mother’s family name of Jacobs; he felt that he wanted to do something to make sure that he never forgot her, a gesture which the Flowers’ agreed with wholeheartedly.

Antony Flowers was now the number two butler (subservient only to Senior Butler Jeremy Baxter), and his wife was now Mistress of the Queen’s Bedchambers (her joviality, the perfect counterpoint to Buckland Faxon’s rigid formality). Max had been raised around the palace, and when he reached the age of ten, his father, for Max had always thought of Mr Flowers as his father and never as his adopted father, arranged for him to be employed as a page boy in the palace. At least it had the advantage of keeping him out of the fields, and the pay was considerably better.

“Thank you for everything you have said and done for me this morning, Your Highness.”

“And my apology, Max?” Josh smiled at the page boy, to let him know he was not upset.

“Is of course accepted.”

“Good. Now perhaps you would care to join me for a glass of cloudfruit juice.”

“Your Highness—”

“Max, I know it’s not strictly adhering to protocol, but I would like you to join me so we can get to know each other a little. I am not ordering you to, I am merely extending an invitation.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. I would like that very much.”

Josh poured a large glass of the crystal clear liquid for each of them, and the look on Max’s face when he took the first sip was utterly priceless. It looked to Josh as though he was having an orgasm. Max’s eyes had rolled into the back of his head and he let out a low moan of pleasure.

Josh giggled. “I take it that you like cloudfruit juice, Max?”

Max blushed. “Forgive me. It’s just that it is so rare that I get the chance to drink pure cloudfruit juice. The kitchen staff have usually already mixed it with something sweeter by the time I get down to the kitchens. I didn’t realise anyone else liked the pure juice?”

“I always have done, ever since I was little. My aunt can’t stand it, but she does use it a lot in baking bread, and my friends always mix it with something else.”

“Your aunt, the lady Mildrea, bakes bread?” Max couldn’t understand why a Patrician, especially one who was the sister of the queen, would bake bread. He thought that she would have a servant to do it for her.

“My aunt does many things for herself. She usually bakes half a dozen loaves of fresh bread every day, and she always manages to get flour everywhere. She also sows, knits, and does her own gardening.”

“Why? I mean, she must have servants to do that for her?”

Josh shook his head. “She has two servants; she has one butler and one house maid. She always insists on doing her own cooking and likes to keep herself busy. The house maid is really only just an extra pair of hands to have around. One of my aunt’s favourite idioms has always been ‘He who has lazy hands’—”

“‘Does not know what do with his time’,” Max unintentionally finished in near-perfect synchronicity with the prince.

Both boys couldn’t help but laugh, though Max wondered just where in the Ten Hells that sudden impulse to finish Josh’s sentence had come from. Was it not enough that he was complicit in the destruction of protocol by allowing Josh to use his proper name, now he was engaging in activities of friendship with the prince!

‘Just one more slight to my conscience I must bear if I am to be the prince’s friend’ Max thought. ‘Though, it is a slight that I would willingly put up with . . . for the chance to have a friend of my own.’

Just as protocol prohibited the royal family from being friends with the staff, it also prevented lower ranking staff from being friends with higher ranking staff; and Max’s position as Prime Page Boy, meant that he was one of the three highest ranking staff members amongst the children. The other two senior positions amongst the children were Lead Kitchen Boy, held by a fifteen cycle old rough oik called Jonas Bates, and Lady of the Maids, held by a sixteen cycle old girl of rather questionable morals by the name of Tiffany Munson; neither of whom liked Max, and the feeling was more than mutual. The reason Max was so disliked largely arose from two unarguable facts: the first was that it was generally felt that he was far too young to be holding such a position, and the second was his strict adherence to protocol.

“May I ask, what book were you reading when I came in?”

“It was ‘The Tale of the Dark Rose’ from ‘The Odyssey of the Soul’. I’d just gotten to the part where Cetus had killed Mira.”

Max nodded. “That explains why you were so startled, Your Highness. I love ‘Odyssey’, but I’ve never liked ‘The Tale of the Dark Rose’, it’s just too scary for me. I’m more a fan of ‘The Long Way’ and ‘To Sell a Daughter’.”

“I agree with you Max, they are good stories from the book, but I find that they are a little dry. There’s no humour or action in them; they’re just far too philosophical for my taste.”

What Josh had intentionally left unstated for fear of embarrassing Max, was that he was deeply impressed that two of the page’s favourite stories were so abstract, and required such a keen intellect to grasp the finer idiosyncrasies and nuances; it was something Josh thought would have been far beyond the abilities of someone who was not yet thirteen. Josh himself still struggled to wrap his head around ‘To Sell a Daughter’, and although he knew the story word for word, knowing the words and understanding the words were two entirely different concepts.

“May I have a look at your copy of the book please, Your Highness?”

“Sure.” Josh handed Max the book and he nearly dropped it in terror.

“This-This-This . . . This can’t be?” Max’s eyes were as wide as saucers, and his heart rate sped up.

“What is it Max?”

Max pointed at the book, looked around as though someone was planning to rob him if he dared to speak too loudly, and whispered, “First edition?”

Josh shrugged. “Yeah, it’s a first edition. My aunt got it me for my seventh birthday.”

“Wow. Do you have any idea how much this is worth?” Max knew that it certainly cost more than he would likely earn over the next twenty cycles. Surprisingly, he didn’t react negatively to the extravagance of the book; he knew that the lady Mildrea had to be one of the wealthiest Patricians in the entire Kingdom, and naturally, she’d buy an expensive gift for her nephew. Max had a far more traditional print copy of the book, but it meant more to him than all of the money, in all of the forty kingdoms of Relan, all combined. The book had belonged to his mother, his birth mother, and it was the only thing that he had of hers.

“When I first got it I didn’t. I mean I had a vague idea, but now I know its true value. I can’t believe that she spent that kind of money, I’d have been more than happy with a standard print of it.”

“Are you mad? I’d sell both of my parents to own something like this.” Max laughed, and after a few seconds Josh joined him.

Josh hoped that the book wasn’t going to interfere in Max’s evident thawing of protocol. Josh felt there was a growing chance that they could be friends; maybe not close friends, or even good friends, but for right there and then he’d settle for just friends.

The boys sat and drank their juice, and talked, and got to know each other a little better.

“Max, what do you do about attending school?”

“A teacher from one of the local schools comes in twice a week and teaches all of the palace kids together.”

“That must be awkward. Surely, you are all different ages and are at different levels?”

“It’s not a perfect system, but we get a sufficient education for our future. All of us will eventually become fully fledged members of the palace staff, so that cuts down on learning a lot of the curriculum.”

“Please don’t take this question the wrong the way Max, it’s just that I can’t think of a better way to phrase it. Don’t you want more for yourself than working here?”

Max initially flushed at the question, but he understood what the prince was trying to ask so he didn’t react. Keeping his voice steady he said, “There’s nothing wrong with working here at the palace, both of my parents do and they enjoy it, and so do I. I guess there is more out there, but for Plebeians it’s very limited. Working here pays far more than I could earn in almost any other job. As the senior butler, Mr Baxter has one of the highest paid Plebeian jobs in the kingdom. The best jobs that Plebeians can get are highly competitive, as there are quite often twenty or thirty people going for one job, and the salaries are only about ten or fifteen percent higher than working here.”

Max looked at the time, and saw it was approaching the twelfth hour, and he sighed. “Your Highness, I need to leave. I have a meeting that I have to attend with the rest of the staff.”

Joshua stood up and said, “I have enjoyed spending this time with you Max. Would you be able to return after lunch? I’d like to continue getting to know you.”

“I would like that, Your Highness. I will see you after lunch, and I’ll be sure to knock very loudly.”

Josh giggled and without forethought gave Max a hug. “You be sure to do that.”

Josh released Max, and the page boy hurried off to his meeting. Josh sat back down and thought over the events of the past couple of hours.

‘I know that I had hoped to befriend Max, but that seemed to go a little too easy. I wonder if he is lonely’.

The two boys spent as much time as they could together for the rest of the day and the whole of the next day just getting to know each other better. They traded stories about growing up, Max shared a few tidbits about palace life, and they shared their favourite stories from ‘The Odyssey of the Soul’. Josh told Max numerous stories about him and Nate, most of which Max actually thought sounded more like fiction than a prince’s childhood, and the two boys also drank pure cloudfruit juice as if it were going out of fashion.

Josh had actually issued his first order as prince shortly after Max had left him after sharing that first drink; well, Josh would have viewed it as a polite request, since he had not barked the order and had even inadvertently said ‘please’ at the end of his request. He had told the kitchen staff that he would like to have a large jug of fresh pure cloudfruit juice provided in his chambers on a daily basis.

The kitchen staff at first had argued that the pure juice was far too tart to be drunk unmixed, but as soon as Josh had suggested that if the kitchen staff would feel more comfortable if the request came direct from Queen Maria, he could arrange for his mother to talk to them, they quickly acquiesced.

Max continued to perform his duties without fail. He laid out Josh’s clothes in the morning and his pyjamas at bedtime, he started working with Mr Flowers at the dinner service (who felt that it was high time to begin Max’s education in the Silver Service, even though he had yet to turn thirteen), and he assisted the prince with anything and everything, as and when required. He also thoroughly chastised one of the young chamber maids over what, in his opinion, was a half-assed job she had done in cleaning the prince’s rooms.

During this time, Max also revealed to Josh that Mr Flowers was his father. Josh was a little taken aback at the revelation, given how formal the two always seemed to be towards each other. Then he saw an awful parallel in his own life; he would need to maintain that type of formality with his own parents when out in public. He at least took some comfort from the fact that Max told him that behind closed doors he and his father were as close as any parent and child.

Although Josh did not ask Max, he felt that having that kind of relationship, working under his father and being so formal, then at the end of the day playing happy families, must screw with Max and Mr Flower’s personal lives something rotten; again, Josh saw another awful similarity to his own future.