The Palace. Morning.
William was in the training yard when the messenger arrived.
He had been sparring with Mei, his sword moving through the forms Aldric had taught him, his body responding without thought. The sun was rising, the sky clear, the air cold. The volunteers were scattered around the yard, practicing, resting, talking.
Mei blocked his strike. Countered. He dodged, swung, caught her shoulder.
"Good," she said.
He lowered his sword. "I'm getting better."
"You're getting less terrible."
He almost smiled. Almost.
The messenger ran through the gate.
---
William knew something was wrong before the man spoke.
His face was pale, his clothes dusty, his hands shaking. He had ridden hard, pushed his horse to the edge of collapse. He looked at William with eyes that held pity and fear.
"Your Highness. A letter from the capital."
William took it. The seal was black—the royal seal. His father's seal.
He broke it. Read.
The words blurred. His father was dead. His brother was King. He was needed in the capital. The funeral would be in three days.
He lowered the letter. His hands were steady, but his chest was tight.
Mei moved to stand beside him. "William?"
"My father," he said. "He's gone."
---
The training yard went silent.
The volunteers stopped. The guards stood still. The world seemed to hold its breath.
William stood in the center, the letter in his hand, his sword at his side. He didn't move. He didn't speak.
Mei touched his arm. "William."
He looked at her. His eyes were dry, but his face was pale.
"I need to go to the capital."
"I'll come with you."
William shook his head. "No. Stay. Train the volunteers. The guild needs you."
Mei's jaw tightened. "You shouldn't be alone."
"I'm not alone. I have Edward."
Mei held his gaze for a moment. Then she nodded. "Go."
---
William walked to the Duke's study.
The Duke was already reading his own letter, his face grim. He looked up when William entered.
"Your father."
William nodded. "I need to go to the capital."
The Duke stood. "I'll prepare an escort."
"Thank you."
The Duke moved to the window. Looked out at the courtyard. "Your father was a good man. A good king."
William moved to stand beside him. "He was."
"He was proud of you."
William was silent for a moment. "I know."
---
William packed his bags.
He didn't have much—a few changes of clothes, his sword, a small knife that Aldric had given him once, before the portal. He had carried it for months. It was the only thing he had left of his friend.
He folded the knife into his pocket.
He walked to the stables.
---
Mei was waiting.
She stood by his horse, her hand on the reins, her face calm. The volunteers were behind her—Tomas, the others. They had come to see him off.
"Ride fast," Mei said.
William mounted. "I will."
"Send word when you arrive."
"I will."
Mei stepped back. The volunteers stepped back.
William rode through the gate.
---
The road south was long.
William rode alone, his escort following behind. The fields were green, the farms were scattered, the villages were small. The sky was blue, the clouds were white, the world was beautiful.
He didn't see any of it.
He thought about his father. The old man who had taught him to ride, to hunt, to be a prince. The old man who had held him when he was small, who had disciplined him when he was reckless, who had loved him when he was difficult.
He thought about his brother. Edward, who had always been the responsible one, the serious one, the heir. Edward, who was now King.
He thought about Aldric. About the portal. About the choice he had made. About the knife in his pocket, the only thing left of his friend.
He rode faster.
---
He reached the capital at sunset.
The walls were gray, the towers tall, the gates open. Banners flew at half-mast. The city was in mourning.
William rode through the gates.
The guards saluted. The people bowed. The nobles watched.
He was the second son now. The spare.
He didn't know what that meant anymore.
---
Edward was waiting in the great hall.
He stood at the far end, his back straight, his hands clasped behind him. He looked older than William remembered—thinner, paler, more tired. But his eyes were sharp.
"Brother," Edward said.
William walked to him. Stopped before him.
"Brother."
They stood in silence for a moment. Then Edward stepped forward. Embraced him.
"I'm sorry," Edward said.
William's throat tightened. "Me too."
---
They walked to the King's study.
The room was dark, the fire low, the books still on the shelves. Their father's chair was empty. Their father's desk was clean.
Edward sat behind the desk. William sat across from him.
"The nobles are circling," Edward said.
William nodded. "I heard."
"They want favors. They want positions. They want to know what kind of king you'll be."
William met his eyes. "They're asking about me?"
"You're the second son. The spare. They want to know if you'll challenge me."
William was silent for a moment. "I won't."
Edward leaned back. "I know."
---
The funeral was held two days later.
William stood beside Edward at the front of the cathedral, his back straight, his face calm. The nobles filed past, offering condolences, offering advice, offering themselves.
He shook hands. Accepted embraces. Spoke words of thanks.
His mind was elsewhere.
He thought about the guild. About Grog, Lira, Ken, Mirena. About Ben, Tina, Davin. About the hunters in the forest, the artifact in the tower, the portal that was still closed.
He thought about Aldric.
He thought about his father.
The service ended. The King was laid to rest.
William walked out of the cathedral into the cold afternoon light.
Edward stood beside him.
"What now?" William asked.
Edward looked at the city, the people, the kingdom.
"We protect it," he said. "Together."
William nodded slowly.
"Together."