SERAVEL ROVODIA IS A REBEL WITH A WARRANT. As the head of the Daily Embers, a chronicle criticizing the tyranny of the current ruler, Seravel gained significant enemies who preferred to keep the truth in the dark. When a number of small accidents st...
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2412, Rab 10, Jyda
"Say, you really can't get me a bag of bagsari from there?" Darmer asked in between chewing, relishing the nalda wrap Sera brought him. "It would strengthen the flavor a delightful ton."
Sera scrunched his nose, both at how his friend ate and the ridiculous request he made. "That would be nepotism and stealing," he said. "You need to make a formal appeal to the palace detailing your need for a supply."
The mechanic frowned and set down the half-eaten stump on its parchment wrapper which he used as a plate. "What are you, the Crown Prince?" he snapped.
"As a matter of fact, I am," Sera answered. "But I'm not here today as one."
Darmer hummed, dusting his forefinger and thumb free off the crumbs of fried flour coating his snack. "You need a break," he said. "You know what breaks are, don't you?"
If he was in the mood, Sera could have rolled his eyes. Instead, he stuck his hand into the parchment bag and drew another wrap. When it came to nalda, there's no way he'd pass up an opportunity to have one. "Yeah, I do," he replied, taking a bite. The savory filling of buttery nuts and other things he'd rather not know about coated his tongue. What did Darmer need bagsari for? It's good enough as it was. "How are the things in the studio?"
The mechanic frowned. "Didn't you hear what I just said?" he circled the open end of his nalda wrap around his ear to prove a point. "You need a break, sir. I ain't telling you anything about the studio. If you really want to, check on your kids yourself."
"Kids?" Sera tore another bite off his snack. "They're not my kids. You aren't my kid."
Darmer clicked his tongue. "If you're too serious this early in the morning, that's your problem, Your Highness."
"Stop calling me that," Sera retorted. A sigh flitted out of his lips. "I just want to save a trip to the studio. I can't always be seen there. You know that, right?"
"Yeah, sure," the mechanic licked his fingers and dusted his palms over the parchment wrapping splayed out over the counter. Beneath the polished surface lay the intricate machines he developed in his spare time. "Whatever, man. The kids are fine. Thanks for asking."
"For the last time, they're not—"
Darmer waved a hand in Sera's face. "No need to get worked up over a joke, Your Highness," he said. "Seriously, you're not like this before."
Yeah, well, Sera wasn't a Crown Prince and a secret tyrant at the same time before either. Moreover, his duties in the Palace seemed to have tripled over the past year, and the Ember Chronicles had never been as popular with the masses as they were now. Darmer wasn't kidding when he suggested Sera take a break, but how could he do that, when everything was literally falling apart in front of his eyes?
As the Crown Prince and a citizen of Lanbridhr, he had a duty to his people, and if he stepped back even for one day and something happened, how could he live by it?
