The Last Stand (The Eleven Years War: Book One)
Chapter Twenty-One

Kael stared at himself in the mirror,hardly able to recognize himself. He was in a tailor’s shop with GeneralPolain, quickly being fitted for his royal wardrobe. After their visit withIlsa, Polain had sent Silas and Eza to the castle to prepare for a war meeting,while he helped Kael by getting a suit appropriate for the occasion. The one hewore then was made of soft, lightweight, white cloth, sewn in a Jotiese stylewith its high collar, gold buttons going down the front, golden epaulettes,well-fitting pants; though he’d known for years that this was what he wasdestined for – a life in the lap of luxury – he still couldn’t help but feeluncomfortable in the suit. He’d spent eleven years living like a peasant:sleeping on scratchy mattresses, sewing his own clothes, pretending to besubmissive to those who thought they were above him. Having people call him “mylord” and “your grace” just felt so strange.

“Youseem uncomfortable, Kael,” Polain commented. The tailor, an older Jotiese manwho was busy seeing what alterations needed to be made, looked up from hiswork. He looked crestfallen, devastated to hear that his newest customer mightnot be pleased with his work.

“Youno like suit?” he asked. The more he looked at his face, the more Kael wasreminded of a kicked puppy.

“Thesuit is excellent,” Kael said, hoping that it would be enough to keep thetailor from feeling that his work was sub-par. He’d only worked with Jotiesepeople a few times while he was in the Gisken army, but every one he knewoverreacted when someone said they didn’t do something right, or if somethingwasn’t good enough. “I’m afraid that I’m simply unused to wearing fine clothes,is all.” The tailor nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer, and continuedto work on the suit.

Polaingave him a slight nod, as well. It seemed that he handled the situation well inhis eyes.

“Iknow that I’m already asking a lot with this suit, but would you be so kind asto make something a little less formal, as well?” Polain asked the tailor as hecontinued pinning the suit. “It certainly doesn’t have to be done too soon, butwe would like some travelling and training clothes for when we need them.” Thetailor nodded.

“Ofcourse, General Polain,” he said with a bow. “It would be honor.” He finishedputting the pins into the suit coat and had Kael carefully take it off so hecould sew it. “Would my lord like anything else?”

Kael looked over atPolain, hoping that he would have an answer for him. In his mind, a pair ofslacks, a shirt and some boots was all he needed; he knew that that wouldn’t beenough, now that he was a noble.

“Ithink that will be all, for now,” Polain said as the tailor sewed, his handsskillfully making his alterations permanent. Kael found himself staring at theneedle as it found its way through the sea of white fabric, wondering how longit had taken the tailor to become so skilled as to be able to maneuver theneedle so quickly and with such accuracy. “I would certainly keep his sizesclose, though; we’ll likely be back soon.”

Thetailor nodded as he finished up sewing the jacket. “Of course, General Polain.”He handed Kael the jacket and got the pants in return. “Will my lord befrequent customer?”

Polainnodded. “Of course; you are the besttailor in the city.” The tailor grinned a smile stained by years of chewingpoppy and finished hemming the pants. He handed them to Kael.

“Seehow fit,” he said. Kael pulled the pants on and looked in the mirror. By far,it was the most well fitting set of clothing he’d worn in years.

Therestill seemed to be something missing,though, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Polainhanded him his father’s sword. When he put it on, he realized that it was whathad been missing from that moment; with his father’s sword at his side, hetruly felt like Prince Kael Althaus, heir to the Gisken throne.

Hetook a deep breath and sighed. He’d waited eleven years for this day to come,but now that it was here… it was just so hard to believe that it was reallyhappening.

Polainstood up and put his hand on his sword, his gaze never leaving the mirror.“Once again, you’ve managed to work a miracle.”

Thetailor smiled and bowed. “Thank you; it was pleasure.” Polain pulled three goldpieces out from his sash and offered them to the tailor, whose eyes grew widewhen he saw them.

“Polain,I no accept,” he said, shaking his head frantically. “It too much!”

“Nonsense,”he said, dismissing the thought with a wave of his hands. “Three gold pieces isthe least I can pay for a miracle.” The two stayed silent for a few seconds,then the tailor sighed.

“Ican accept,” he said as he took the coins. “You no pay for travelling clothes.”Polain nodded.

“I’llagree to that,” he said. He looked over at Kael. “Let’s leave, my lord.” Withthat, the two walked outside.

Fora brief second, Kael forgot that he was in Caitha when they left the building.The street they found themselves on was in the predominately Jotiese part ofSemata’s international district, and it certainly looked a lot more like Jotaithan it did Caitha. Red, paper lanterns spanned the distance between thebuildings above them, shop owners stood outside their stores, grabbing randompeople from the street and pulling them into their stores, people walked by inrobes, booths sold sake and noodles to passer-by’s, street performers playedstrange instruments for some extra coin; it took hearing people speaking inCaithian to remind himself of where he was.

“Whatare we going to do, now?” Kael asked as they walked through the throngs ofpeople. He couldn’t help but notice how, now that he was wearing something fitfor a noble, people began parting for him as much as they could, with theirheads bowed respectfully. It felt really wrong to him after years of beingforced to walk in the gutters for other nobles, and if it weren’t for Polain,he probably would have ended up there out of habit

“We’llhead for the castle to get you situated,” Polain said. “There’s a guest bedroomthere that hardly gets used; you’ll be able to sleep there for the foreseeablefuture. If Marion isn’t busy, we’ll get you two introduced, or I’ll prepare youfor your first war meeting, if she’s busy with a suitor.”

“Warmeeting?” They left the international district and suddenly found themselvesback in the Semata that was purely Caithian. Polain nodded.

“Asa crown prince, you must prepare yourselves for not only your duties as adiplomat, but as a general,” he said. “I know for a fact that your parentshelped you with the diplomatic side of ruling, but judging by how things wentwith the training sword incident, I think that your military leadershipexperience is lacking.”

Kael nodded. Hismother had done everything she could to keep him away from the army. Though hisparents were certainly happy in their marriage to each other, whether or not heshould be exposed to the military was always a tense topic for them.

“That’sdefinitely true,” he said. “What do you do during a war meeting?”

“Weread reports about our armies and what they’re doing,” he said. “Then, we –being me, Silas, Eza Olrick, and the other military heads – make decisions onwhat to do. The other heads will think that you’re there simply to give areport on the Gisken army, but after today, you’ll be there because of yourrank.”

Areport? Kael tried to hide his discomfort. No matter how much she’d tried,Kael’s mother hadn’t been very successful in teaching him to be a good publicspeaker. It worried him that he would have to speak in front of the militaryheads of Caitha, without having much time to prepare for it.

“Howmuch experience do you have with public speaking?” Polain asked. Kael began torub the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Verylittle,” he admitted. “I was never very good at it, even when I had months toprepare.”

“That’snothing to be ashamed of,” Polain said. “I could spend an entire lifetimepracticing, and I still wouldn’t be a gifted orator.” For a few seconds,neither of them spoke as they passed through the crowded streets of Semata. Itcertainly wasn’t the biggest city he’d ever been in (by far, the Kurzhiancapital of Orovich took the cake, there) but it was definitely the mostdiverse; he’d never seen so many different kinds of people living in the samecity, before. He knew that he could probably be there for days and still replacehimself trying to resist gawking at the people who passed by.

“What’sMarion like?” Kael asked as Semata’s castle came into view. His father hadspoken of her after Polain’s visit a few weeks before the incident. Though hismemories of those conversations were a little fuzzy, he was fairly certain thatthey had something to do with a marriage pact of some sort.

Polainsighed. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about her.”

Kaelcould feel a pit beginning to grow in his stomach; this couldn’t be good.

“Whatis it?” he asked. The way Polain was acting, he was getting worried that shewas crippled or something awful like that. Polain began to rub the back of hisneck.

“Sheisn’t anything like your father may have described her,” he said delicately.“Do you know about the Lügenburg Massacre?” Kael racked his head in an effortto remember all the history lessons that had been drilled into his head, but itdidn’t sound familiar. He shook his head.

“Noneof my tutors ever mentioned it,” Kael said.

“That’sbecause it happened a year after the royal family died,” Polain said. “On theanniversary of their deaths, a peace conference was held in Lügenburg for theworld’s leaders to discuss what was happening in Gishk and Jotai and how theymight be able to remedy things. Every king who didn’t say they were willing togo along with Raul’s plans was killed, including Marion’s father.”

“Whyare you telling me this?” Kael asked.

“BecausePrincess Marion has changed because of it,” Polain said. “She’s become veryhostile and angry in the years since; I just want you to be prepared for whatshe might say to you. I would also try and avoid mentioning the marriage pactto her.”

Kaelfrowned, confused. “Why?”

“Becauseshe never knew that you two were to be married.”