Chapter Text
Valerin wasn't convinced that a ten year old boy was actually a high level national security threat, but she understood why the Director would think so.
A mere child breaching the Institute’s walls could cast doubt on the Institute's — and the Director’s — ability to keep out the larger threats beyond the Wall and Dome.
(Gloreth, Valerin couldn't even remember the last time she’d used Amata’s actual name — the woman was entirely consumed by her role as the person ultimately responsible for the Kingdom's safety.)
Still, keeping the boy in a jail cell seemed a bit extreme.
She frowned. From her vantage point — further down the cell block in the guards’ room — he looked a little skinny for ten. His dark hair was long and tangled, and his big brown eyes looked nervously at the energy field keeping him imprisoned.
Valerin leaned closer to the elegantly dressed woman next to her — a frequent ally and, as the First of the Council of Nobles, one of the three most influential people in the realm. “Min-yeong, how old is Ambrosius again? Seven?”
“Yes.” She furrowed her brow and reconsidered. “No. Eight. First year as a page, actually.”
That was convenient. “So he got to witness the show firsthand.”
“And was extremely excited about it — he pounced on me practically as soon as I got to the Institute.” Min-yeong covered her smile but couldn't hide her dancing eyes.
“Do you think he’d mind helping entertain our young…guest? Possibly in some more comfortable accommodations more conducive to playing?”
“Mind? I'm sure he'll be thrilled. Even if it's still inside that cell.”
Valerin did her best to ignore that familiar sharp pang in her chest. That sounded about right for that age.
She glanced over at the Director, who was still frantically scouring Institute records for anything she could find about Ballister Black. Valerin doubted she’d like her plan, but hopefully she would acquiesce to the wishes of the majority of their little triumvirate.
***
“Absolutely not.” The Director’s mouth was set in a thin line.
Min-yeong met the queen's eyes. At this rate, they'd have to tread carefully just to ensure Ballister Black would even be released out of Institute custody.
“Why don't we take the next few days to learn more about the boy before making a final decision about what to do with him?” Min-yeong suggested diplomatically. “The Goldenloins would be happy to help evaluate whether he is worthy of becoming a knight.”
“With all due respect, Lady Goldenloin,” the Director said frostily, “the boy is a commoner. There is nothing to evaluate. As your husband's ancestor wisely determined, we can only trust the safety of this Kingdom to certain families.”
Min-yeong knew perfectly well that the Director was unhappy that families like her own — immigrants from centuries ago, before the borders were fully closed — had intermarried with Kingdom nobility and had eventually been allowed in their ranks. (The fact that Helios had chosen Min-yeong — whose family was merely in the Book of Silver — over her undoubtedly also still rankled, and added further…complications…to their negotiations.)
“We may need to take care deciding who is allowed to become a knight,” Queen Valerin chimed in, “but blood isn't everything.”
“One hopes so,” the Director said acidly, “given that you seem determined to put this Kingdom at risk by leaving it without an heir of your line.”
Valerin stiffened.
“That's cold, Amata, even from you,” Min-yeong said mildly.
There was a moment of silent tension, but eventually the Director decided it was in her best interest to relent. “If you are both so convinced this commoner isn't a threat, I suppose we can take three days to interview him and do a more thorough background check.”
The queen let out a deep breath. “Thank you, Director. I'm glad we came to an agreement.”
“Just remember that I have final say over whether he’ll be admitted to the Institute.”
“We are well aware.”
***
"Hi!" Ambrosius was practically vibrating from excitement as a guard admitted him to one of the palace's meeting rooms. First, knight training had been interrupted in the best way possible, then he got to see his mom at the Institute, and now he was going to play hooky for the rest of the day and spend time with his new hero!
"Hi?" The boy in question lifted his head a little. He was sitting a little awkwardly on one of the couches, knees tucked in and arms wrapped around his legs.
"You got through the Institute's forcefield fence and beat the record for fastest monster beheading!"
"And got jailed for it," the boy muttered.
His accent was a little funny, though truth be told Ambrosius hadn't met too many commoners in person before. Aside from servants, of course.
"But you're out now!" Ambrosius said brightly.
"Am I?" the boy wondered.
Ambrosius supposed he couldn't blame him for being skeptical.
"I'm Ambrosius Goldenloin, by the way."
This was apparently enough to shake off some of the dark cloud around him. "Good Gloreth!"
Ambrosius twisted his mouth. "Yeah, she's my ancestor, I guess. But anyways, what's your name?" In all the commotion, his mom had never managed to actually tell him.
"Ballister B— Just Ballister." He stood up, and now Ambrosius could see that his clothes were hopelessly out of fashion and practically falling apart to boot. (And yes, his boots were in bad shape too.)
"Nice to meet you, Just Ballister." Ambrosius set his bag down. "My mom — she's the First, I don't know if you've met her yet? — she said I should entertain you while they figure out what to do with you."
"That's not ominous at all." Ballister looked curiously at the snacks and video games Ambrosius was unpacking.
"My mom's busy a lot, but she's pretty nice. To me, at least. So's the queen."
"And the Director?" Ballister asked around a mouthful of Knight Knibbles. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Missed breakfast this morning."
Ambrosius considered the question. "Strict. But that's because she cares about protecting the Kingdom from monsters."
"So do I." Ballister's dark eyes shone with purpose. Certainly with more purpose than any of the other pages in Ambrosius' cohort had ever shown.
After a few hours of defeating (virtual) dragons together, Ambrosius was convinced: knight training would be a million times better if Ballister was there too.
***
The Director wouldn't let Ballister become a knight.
Valerin was disappointed but not surprised, and unfortunately the Institute was the one government entity that she didn't have authority over.
Min-yeong followed her out of the meeting room. “I don't know how I’ll break the news to Ambrosius. Ballister is all he talks about.”
“The boy has so much potential.” When interviewing him, Valerin had been impressed by both his intelligence and sense of duty — these days, those seemed to be rare traits among the First Families.
“Pity he was born a commoner and that our Director is so stuck in tradition.” Min-yeong hesitated. “I suppose the Goldenloins could foster him? He still wouldn't be a knight, but at least he could go to a better school and make something more of himself.”
Valerin smiled. “I have a better idea.”
***
Cimorene was gratified by the queen’s sudden desire for a tour of the treasury — perhaps her meticulous care for the crown jewels would finally be recognized.
“Are you looking for a piece for a special occasion, your majesty?”
“You could say that,” Queen Valerin answered enigmatically.
She stopped in front of a case of small circlets, more fit for a child than a grown woman. After studying them for a few minutes, she pointed at a black open crown inlaid with some (relatively) modest rubies.
“This one is perfect.”
***
Ballister had had an interesting few days.
He’d known his demonstration of his fighting skills would be a little unorthodox and risky, but didn't expect to be thrown into a jail cell. (It's not like he was a criminal. At least, not when he could avoid it but still get enough to eat.)
He also didn't expect to meet the queen. (He meant to be a knight, and he remembered enough from citizenship lessons at school to know that she had very little to do with the Institute and protecting the Kingdom. Unfortunately, she seemed to like him more than the Director did.)
Or make a new friend. (At least, he thought Ambrosius was a friend. The younger boy was always nice during the daily “playdates” the queen and Ambrosius’ mom had arranged for them, and he didn’t think that was just an act.)
And now, after days of being questioned and quizzed and studied like a bug — and nights spent in the fanciest bed he’d ever seen in his life — he was supposed to finally learn what was to become of him.
This morning, a servant — it was so weird that he was somewhere with servants — had laid out his old clothes for him to wear. While they were slightly cleaner than they were before, he still took that as a bad sign.
Queen Valerin herself came to fetch him, and she guided him to a small podium in front of a swarm of reporters. Ambrosius' mom was already there, and gave him the tiniest of nods.
He gulped.
“People of the Realm. As you know, for many years the Kingdom has been without an heir. Today, I am pleased to announce that we have found one.”
Ambrosius' mom came closer — he didn't dare turn to look but he could hear her footsteps — and he felt her put something on his head. He raised his hands and ran his fingers over…a crown?
The queen crouched down, and her next words seemed to be especially for him.
“No, he doesn't come from my bloodline, or any noble bloodline for that matter. But he may just have the heart of a leader.”
The flashing bulbs and barrage of questions felt overwhelming, but thankfully, the queen didn't expect him to answer any. (He had plenty of his own.)
The crown on his head felt considerably heavier than his wooden training sword.