Chapter 49: Chapter 48 – Prosperity’s Melancholy

“Who is that?” I asked Viruka.

She looked to him, but shook her head. “I am afraid I do not know. Though his body is fortified!” She blushed, and immediately said, “I mean, not to say that he looks better than you, Yurva! It was a slip of the tongue.”

I laughed and tapped her shoulders. “That’s alright. Although I think I could outmatch him given my own prowess and tensed muscles.”

I kept quiet of my meeting with the demons, but mentioned my exploits concerning my meeting with the sage Yurvaonri, my battles with the commander and the giant, and even my situation with Zhunil. Her eyes lit with the same kind of awe I saw with Zhunil and the other children.

“My! You have indeed been through so much,” she said with delight. “It is good that your curse will be dealt with the sage’s help.” Then her demeanor became fierce. “But this Zhunil character, I would like to reprimand her in her treatment of you! What right does an urchin of the street have in treating a member of royalty, especially one heir to the Immortal King.”

There was one other thing I didn’t mention to her. The kiss that I forced upon Zhunil. It wouldn’t do good to have mentioned it, though it pained me to have to keep that secret; that guilt that so reminded me of my iniquitous behavior of the past.

“It’s nothing to worry over,” I said. “She doesn’t have the cleanest of speech, but it’s not worth getting upset. She’s a good person and friend.”

“Should a friend really strike another?” she said, bringing her face close to mine. “Do you think I would act as such to you?”

“No,” I then silenced myself as the princess cut my speech short.

“What, Prince of Death? Do you seek to say that such abuse should be rendered to you? Why would you let someone as her use you to her benefit? You are meant to be her ruler; you are not her servant!”

I didn’t believe that. For in my mind, and still now, I know it to be true that the ruler of a nation is given such power only by the will of its people. It is the people that give such a person the right to rule and in the future, if they so will it, they may rescind it and give it to another.

Now, in this time, there were few, if any, incidents that occurred as such. For in the days of Prevohsuyah, the Era of Formation, the morals of a populace waxed the greatest of any era in either the descending or ascending cycles.

But, Viruka, and many others like her, didn’t understand where the right to rule came from. For even if it was bestowed by the Gods, the will of the right laid not in us, but in the subjects.

“Perhaps you’re right that I shouldn’t be treated as such,” I said, “but I don’t seek abuse in admonishing myself or mistakes. What Zhunil does may be ill-fitting, but she doesn’t seek to hurt me. I would say she has all right if she truly wished it, yet she stays her hand.”

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“And why should she have the right?” Viruka asked, coming closer to me.

I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. I could smell her scent and became captivated by her form. I gently moved her away and said, “Something I don’t wish to speak on.”

She was upset and hung her head low. There wasn’t much I could think to say to console her. I let the matter rest and returned my view to her brother. His match was to begin against the golden-haired boy.

Now this mock ring was set in a way where nine matches could occur simultaneously, but it was cleared for these two to fight alone against one another.

The holler of the crowd was loud, and perhaps under more normal circumstances I wouldn’t be able to hear, but I focused my gaze to the two combatants and silenced the noise of the outside.

They looked to each other, intent on success. Varey smiled, giddy over his match, while the other held a more serious expression, one that was fierce.

“Why look as if you’re constipated,” Varey said, laughing. “Isn’t this a time meant for merriment? Clear that frown, prince!”

“And what do you understand?” the golden-haired boy said. “There must needs be an heir to secure the world, for the onslaught of the Demons will continue to rise.”

Varey looked to him confused. “You don’t trust the kings and soldiers that fight now to bring the whole of the horde to submission?”

He bit his lip. “If only I could.”

The proctor, who seemed a battle-hardened commander, but wearing only a loincloth, held his fist in the air, and cried, “Silence!”

The noise of the throng deadened, and all looked intent to the two princes. Even Viruka’s sullenness was brought to a halt when she held her head to her brother.

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