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“That will be all for today,” his father says, finally, and Auguste lets out a quiet sigh of relief and allows himself the brief reprieve of slumping in his chair. He recovers quickly, however, and stands swiftly turning, and making his way out of the throne room while a few councilors have the king distracted with lingering comments and concerns. While he understands his position as crown prince, and the burden of the crown, Auguste has no desire today to further discuss the problems of the Vaskian mountain clans to the east, or the constant tension with Akielos to the south, or taxes, with his father.
Auguste waves off his guard, “I’m going to see the little Prince,” he says with a smile and a short nod toward their bows. He quickly walks up the corridor and makes the first turn, looking to make himself scarce from any more immediate political matters.
Auguste approaches Laurent’s chambers, which are still the nursery located just off the queen’s apartments. He nods to the two guards posted on either side of the door, left open, which Auguste takes as Laurent’s nurse stepping out. He walks in and pauses in the shadow of the deep archway and smiles.
Laurent has a scene set up before him in the front play room: two chairs each with a doll sitting in them, a stuffed teddy bear with leaves on its head sat atop a box, and a large pillow wearing a hat and what looks like Laurent’s outer dress propped up against some books. They are all facing Laurent himself, who is standing on top of a short stool proudly. He’s wearing just his light under layer dressing, a throw blanket around his shoulders like a royal cape, and a crown that he and Auguste made together from cutting parchment and sealing wax. It’s a little too large and tilts just to the left on his blonde head.
“As King Auguste, the greatest and best king there ever was,” Laurent is saying with the best kingly tone his five-year-old voice can muster, and Auguste smiles wider, leaning against the cool stone of the archway, “I declare us all friends. For always. No more fighting and no more not letting people go play wherever they want, especially on the water,” Laurent gives a pointed look to the bear, and Auguste suppresses a snort. Laurent had been quite unhappy recently when he found out he couldn’t just freely go play in the pretty blue water, or see the big white cliffs, of Ios he had read about and seen drawings of in a book. Laurent babbles on, unknowing of his live audience “AND we all have to share stuff. Like horses and honey and pastries”
He quickly hops off the stool and rushes behind the bear on top of the box, making sure to hold on to his crown as he goes. He crouches behind the bear and uses one hand to move the bear’s arm up and down. Some of the leave fall of its head “Wow so fair!” He says in a comedically deep voice and then quickly rushes back and hops back on to the stool beaming, his blue eyes bright.
Laurent continues his court and Auguste watches fondly with a bright smile. His thoughts suddenly return to the earlier council meeting and the smile falters. He thinks back of the discussed, constant threat of war from the south and his heart breaks, thinking of this sweet little boy having to grow up and exist in a world at war. That world would unfairly rob him of this innocence so quickly. In the small archway of the nursery, Auguste makes a private promise to do all he can so that Laurent only knows what war is from books, and a time long gone. He will be a peace bringing king, as his brother imagines him.
Auguste is pulled out of his thoughts by a quiet, startled gasp and turns slightly round to see Laurent’s nurse returned. She’s holding a small tray of fruits and cheeses and he smiles, taking it from her. She curtsies low and turns out of the room quietly and he turns back to Laurent, who is finishing another decree about not having to wear more than one layer of clothing in the summer. Auguste makes himself known with a clearing of his throat, and a light blush fills Laurent’s round cheeks when he is pulled out of his imagination, turning to the archway with eyes wide. He quickly recovers though, and smiles so bright and big, Auguste can’t help but return it in kind.
“Your Highness,” Auguste says with the best bow he can manage with the tray in his hand. He walks fully in to the room and gracefully sits down in front of the court of toys with his legs crossed. He holds the tray in his left hand and uses his right arm to pull Laurent in to his lap, who giggles loudly. Auguste removes the crown and sets it aside. Laurent settles and Auguste sets the tray in front of him, and he quickly goes for a sweet blackberry first.
“So, Auguste, introduce me to your court,” Auguste says, first gesturing to the two dolls. Laurent chews first and then answers, “That’s King Torgier from Patras,” he points to one doll, and then the next “And her highness queen Vish…kar” He says it slowly, as if having briefly forgotten the name. He points to the bear next “And that’s Dami…Damin…” Laurent struggles with the syllables.
“Damianos?” Auguste provides and Laurent nods enthusiastically. “But Damianos and not Theomedes? And why does he have leaves on his head?”
Laurent tilts his head back against Auguste’s chest and stares up at him with his big blue eyes and shrugs slightly. “Akielons wear gold leaves as a crown, I just couldn’t find any gold leaves,” He answers, as if it were obvious “And Theomedes is super old, that’s what Father says,” He changes his voice to a deep, gruff tone, imitating their father “‘That old crone Theomedes’ ‘That old stubborn barbarian’ ” Auguste laughs and Laurent giggles before continuing “So Damianos will be king when you are. Which is good because he’s close to your age so you can be friends.” Laurent finishes as a matter-of-fact and turns his attention back to the tray of snacks.
“He’s close to your age to,” Auguste says and Laurent hums.
“So, we could be friends to?” He asks
“Possibly,” Auguste answers and Laurent looks back to him with furrowed brows. “You’ll have to actually work on your Akielon, little brother” He teases, tickling Laurent lightly, who squirms in response and giggles. “But we will do that together, and we can all be the best of friends. Like you so royally decreed. Now, who is this dashing fellow with the hat?” He asks, gesturing to the pillow.
“Me!”
“Me? No, You’re Auguste, The best and greatest king. I think you mean he’s the Prince Laurent, your smartest and most trusted advisor.” Says Auguste proudly, and Laurent ducks his head shyly. Auguste knows he is blushing.
They sit there while Laurent eats his snack, who sticks heavily to the sweet berries and Auguste takes a piece of the disregarded cheese. Laurent babbles about a hero in a book he’s reading, then about horses from another, and then about Akielos and their Summer festival from another still. Auguste listens with a smile to the quick changes in subject, sitting quietly as Laurent excitedly shares everything he’s learned about. Soon, Laurent starts talking less and more slowly and Auguste sets the tray aside, standing swiftly and taking Laurent up with him in to his arms. He extracts a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes Laurent’s mouth and sticky fingers, then returns It back to the pocket.
“Alright, Your Highness,” Auguste shifts Laurent to his hip, who promptly yawns, and reaches down to grab the bear acting as Damianos, shaking off the leaves. “It’s time for a nap.” He says and walks to the back of the playroom and through the door leading in to the bedroom. He lays Laurent on the bed and hands him the bear which he hugs tightly to his chest. Auguste sits on the bed and gently slides a hand through Laurent’s soft blond hair, as sleepy blue eyes stare up at him. “The Patran delegation is here, so your nurse will be in to dress you for dinner later. AND” He says with some emphasis, to stop the protest before it can be voiced “Maybe if you’re good we can sneak away early to see the fireflies in the gardens. Deal?”
Laurent nods softly, the motion causing the bear’s head to nod as well under his chin, and his eyes close. Auguste continues to stroke his hair even after he knows Laurent has fallen asleep. He watches him sleep for a while, while his earlier worries return full force. If he could have his way, Laurent would never know real sadness. Would never be robbed of this pure excitement and innocent curiosity.
Auguste sighs, shaking his head to shake away the thoughts. He leans down to give Laurent’s forehead and chaste kiss and then stands, exiting the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him.