A Blaze in the Dark (A New Dawn #1)

Chapter 31 - Sebastian

Your Majesty, prior to the winter rains drowning the roads, here are the numbers for year 919 to accompany our taxes.

Sebastian lay sprawled on his belly across the sill, his body resting on a pile of his favourite cushions. Outside the sun was sinking slowly behind the distant line of trees, their shadows casting grand silhouettes on the meadow. He heaved a deep sigh. "But, Lady Viviane, I don't see why I have to change into another uniform." 

"It's a ball, My Lord. You'll be wearing something else. Plus, you've been running around, sweating." Lady Viviane placed something on his desk with a plonk. He didn't care enough to get up and see what it was. "You don't want the Lords and Ladies of our kingdom to think you're a sweaty pig, do you?"

He shrugged. "So what if they think I am?"

"It would displease His and Her Majesty, My Lord. Can you please come down from your sill so I can dress you?"

He pressed his face deeper into the cushion beneath him and groaned. With every movement, his muscles ached more from his tumble down the fourteen steps of the throne platform. It was all Uncle Tom's fault anyway. He should have let him go to the fair, then they wouldn't have battled with swords, he wouldn't have fallen, and then he wouldn't have hit his uncle in the ear. Now everything was ruined.

"My Lord, must I really ask again?" She raised her voice, slightly, yet still noticeable. Prior to the ceremony, she had clung to Patience far longer, but it had been a long day for her as well.

And he had no energy left to oppose her anyway. In the end, it had all led to nothing but frustration at both ends. It wasn't her fault that this country had complex and unneccesary traditions. "Give me my uniform. I'll do it myself."

"As you wish, My Lord."

While she rummaged through his bedroom, he kept staring out the window. The shadows of the trees were moving towards the edge of the River Faith, where they would soon blend with the reflection of the crescent moon. It was such a peaceful sight; the perfect antidote for the dreadful, bustling feast a couple of floors down. 

Oh, how he wished he could stay in this spot forever.

Behind him resounded the plonking sound against the stones. His neck protested as he turned around. He was getting sorer by the minute, but he wasn't some weakling. 

On the sill now laid a freshly ironed uniform, the jacket now with a stiff collar and unnecessary silver shoulder pieces, but that wasn't all. His simple black belt had been replaced by a broad cross strap with a crown-shaped buckle that would poke his bruises all evening.

He rubbed his forehead before gathering his courage to get changed. A headache was creeping up his neck, his mouth all dry and bitter–the result of biting his cheek until it bled.

He pulled off his shirt and threw it over the bag Alex had left behind. Stupid marbles. No matter how sophisticated they were, they could never replace the fun he and Fox had had crafting their own. She should have known that before wasting gold on something he was never going to play with.

While Lady Viviane picked up his toy soldiers from the floor, he changed into his fresh clothes. On his first day as King, he would change the dress code for these lame celebrations. The regular uniform would have to do; there was no reason why he should attend the ball wearing a jacket that wanted to choke him.

Just as he picked up the belt designed in the Seven Hells, the door flew open and Uncle Tom came in with a frown crossing his brow. "I require a private moment with my nephew. Thank you for your services, Lady Viviane. You're dismissed."