Short Stories From The World Of ARTK

The Founding Of Vraemore Island, Part Five

The year is roughly 2951 A.G. James Vraemore the second is fourteen years old. His elder sisters Giselle and Belle are twenty six and sixteen.

  "The fabric is itchy." James complained. "As if there are thousands of ants biting me in this moment."

  "Perhaps-" Giselle said, stepping back to get a better look at the tunic. "But father had it made just for this day- and it was incredibly expensive so you will put up with it at least this once."

  Though the fourteen year old didn't notice, Giselle appeared to go somewhere else for a moment. It was never supposed to be like this. She'd been in love once, with Lord Remont Beckett- and they'd tried for five years to have a child of their own to no avail. Then his family had to go to war with the Simonett's- Kaeles's royal family, in hopes of taking the throne after the king insulted the Beckett army's capabilities.

Remont being who he was- had to join them, and in just a few months they'd proven the Simonett king wrong. Remont's father now sat on the Kaelesi throne, but it made no difference to Giselle. Remont had died a Prince, apparently making her a princess for life by the laws of Kaeles- but the injuries from her husband's last battle had killed him before she had a chance to travel across the seas and say goodbye. She sighed. Travel would be so much faster if dragons and dragon riders still lived.

  Acting like her brother's mom, and going to see any new babe born on the island was some small comfort- at least. It made her forget her dead siblings too, although temporarily.

  "I bet you wish you were wearing it instead." James  said, his voice quieter then. Giselle smiled. He were a fourteen year old boy, but he could be kind when he wanted. Almost no lord in the world would have said something like that to his sister- younger or older.

  "No..." she shook her head. "No I never wanted that. Seems like too much pressure."

"Never?" James raised an eyebrow. "Not even when it seemed like you would be father's heir because.... you were the oldest?"

"Not even then." Giselle nodded. "Come on- you cannot be late to your own naming feast."

——-

  Lord Foulk Vraemore's smile was small, but it were there as he reached for the unadorned lord's crown on his own head. Things were different in different kingdoms, but it were considered a sign of respect for a lord to leave the gemstone crowns for the royal families. That tradition carried over, and his crown had remained plain.

  He kept it in his hands, looking to his living children. He would not expect Giselle to remarry after how deeply she'd fallen. It would make him a hypocrite, one of the worst types of dishonor. And he did not worry for the future of the Vraemore line, as one daughter was soon to be betrothed and his son- his heir, would be too before long.

He nodded. Two former warriors of his, men who now lived on the island in peace- opened the Great Hall's doors and began announcing the family in order of strongest to least powerful titles.

"Princess Giselle Beckett." They said. "The High Lord Foulk Vraemore, Lord James Vraemore.... and Lady Belle Vraemore."

  Giselle stood beside her father, Belle slightly behind them at the front of the room. They would eat soon, but something else needed to be done first.

  James looked towards his father for approval, trying to ignore the eyes on him. He was not meant for this either, he knew- but then again he didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

  "My......" Foulk hesitated. Once he said the words, they could not be taken back. His father had done the same to him, and in these most recent years he'd grown to hate it. James hadn't outright said he didn't want this....but he could see it in the boy's eyes.

  "You and I have responsibilities, Foulk." His father had told him as a child. "Responsibilities that cannot be given up or ran away from. Sooner or later we all must accept that, and only then will we achieve true peace."

  "My son has come of age." He said loudly, making sure his words were heard by everyone in the Hall. "If I were to die, he could now rule without a regent. But he is still young, so I will say this: I intend on staying alive a good long while. In the meantime.... I proclaim Lord James Vraemore my heir....and the first heir of Vraemore island."