Honour or Reason - Book 1# in the Burning Prince Chronicles

Chapter Eight

Con was screaming. It seemed nightmares wished to plague him now. He had woken from a dream where he was drowning below the waves again, although hands pulled him down. King Allerick, Hanrick, Nathair, Aglaesha, Brilyn... they all pulled him down, down, down to his death. He awoke to find Jules beside him, wide eyed. The servant explained he had heard Con shrieking and feared someone was attacking him. When Jules entered, he saw only Conlaed thrashing in his bed. It was concluded the prince had a fever, although Con was sceptical of the diagnosis - he was not ill, but burdened and aggrieved. Still, he had remained in bed under strict orders to rest and have Jules tend to his needs. The prince obeyed, although he wanted more than anything to find Brilyn and expose his traitorous appeal to Aglaesha. Conlaed understood his friend was fearful for him, but now he had both of them worrying over him - worry caused people to be reckless - he was the reckless one, not his friends. He prayed their fear for him would not convince them to tell Hanrick of his accusations. Or worse, one of them would put themself in danger while searching for clues to the Fey's claims.

Conlaed loved both Bri and Aglaesha - they were everything to him - but he would not have them fence him in like a child. I have been locked in cages before - never again. Con was certain he could care for himself. He was practically a man grown and heir to Maidora. It was up to him to free his father and rid the Isle of the traitorous Hanrick and his unjust seat upon the throne. Unlike his friend and betrothed, he was confident in the knowledge the Fey gave him. Something in his bones assured him. It all made sense; Hanrick was always known for being ambitious and having an eye for Queen Tenna. Perhaps mother helped the fiend? Conlaed could think of numerous occasions he'd heard his parents arguing, although he'd never known about what - Con had never been one to eavesdrop, especially not on his own parents; it was not princely. Still, a few times he had witnessed Hanrick enter the King's chamber when the yelling finally ended. It seems Tenna was clearly unvirtuous. I was just too blind to notice. A naive fool, I was.

***

Shouts and revels could be heard from his window. Con slowly rose out of bed and quietly moved into his book room. The prince sidled up to the glass doors to gaze below. Bright marquees were pitched all over the gardens, full of dancing, laughing and drunk courtiers. Conlaed frowned. What... The prince swore filthily. He ran back to his bed chamber, panic elating. Without processing his thoughts properly, he began to strip frantically out of his bed clothes. Con snarled in frustration as his shirt buttons caught in his messy hair and he toppled to the ground. His pants were halfway off his legs when a nervous voice stuttered,

"Y-your Highness? Are you... alright?"

He cleared his throat, mortified at being found by Jules in this manner. "I may need some assistance, Jules." He heard the servant chuckle quietly and move to his side. Easily, the servant tugged the shirt off his head. Conlaed smiled gratefully, cheeks burning with embarrassment. He tugged his bed trousers back up and rose to his feet meekly. "Thank you."

Jules bowed his head respectfully in answer. That's when he saw the boy's curls were combed into graceful waves. Con blinked. "Your hair looks very nice." The servant bowed his head again. "It is for the celebration, Milord. I am sorry I forgot to wake you, Your Highness, I thought..." Conlaed shook his head. "Do not apologize - just help me find some appropriate garments to wear, if you please." The servant nodded vigorously and flocked to the drawers. Con sat quietly on his bed as Jules rifled through the lavish clothes. A small lump in his throat formed as he watched the servant stroke the fine fabrics in wonder. Ever since Jules became his manservant, the bond between them made Con question the strict rules of class. His father taught him to treat his servants respectfully - they were his people just as much as the nobles were and deserved to be treated with innate dignity. Conlaed had always followed his father's example, although he felt it was still not enough. When I kill Hanrick, I shall tell father of my thoughts -maybe I could make some change for people like Jules. He knew talking to Hanrick was useless - the man was greedy and was to die soon.