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“So, you’re abandoning my seeker? Not very heroic of you!”
Leon resisted rolling his eyes at Clavis’s dramatics and the unofficial title given to Carla. As Clavis’s assistant, Carla’s main job was to seek things. Some items were simply those Clavis couldn’t be bothered to find himself—test tubes, compounds for explosions, Sariel-sized nets. A job with no end given Clavis’s antics. But Carla also found things of substance—missing children from Bloodstained Rose day, reunited with their parents; jobs for former Obsidian citizens crossing into Rhodolite; surpluses of food for the Leochian orphanage.
Carla was a seeker. A seeker of adventure. Of ingenuity. Of hope. This vibrancy was among the many things that attracted Leon to Carla. And it was that vibrant hope that made Leon want to do things right with her.
“It’s necessary.” Leon looked up at Clavis as he prepared for his journey.
“But you still need to pitch woo to Carla!”
“I don’t wanna hear you say anything about pitching after the lake incident.”
“But I saved the diplomat from drowning!”
“After pitching him in the lake in the first place.”
“Irrelevant!” Clavis cackled, unrepentant. “But more relevant, you’re deserting my seeker!”
“No. I’m leaving to talk with the most important person in her life.” Leon wrapped his cloak about his shoulders.
“Ah, so me!”
Leon raised an eyebrow. “Her father.”
Clavis inhaled loudly. He hid the rush of pain flooding his chest with a sharp bark of laughter. “Asking for dear old dad’s permission to court his daughter? How quaint!”
Leon stepped closer to Clavis, challenging the third prince’s mockery, seeing the truth behind the mask. “Not exactly. I want to tell him how I feel. The influence he’s had on Carla, the joy she brings. That though he last saw her in tears, she’ll live with a smile on her face. If she’ll let me.”
Clavis was silent for several seconds. “You’ll find it to be a very one-sided conversation.”
“I know. But still.”
Clovis’s gaze faltered at Leon’s resolute expression. Clavis turned his head to avoid his stare and whispered, his mask briefly slipping.
“Tell her father I’m sorry.”
“Hmmm?”
Clavis whipped his head back to Leon, plastering a smile on. “I mean, tell him I say hi! You should thank me for distracting Carla while you go gallivanting without her!”
Leon huffed and began to leave. He turned around, hand lingering on the door knob. “It wasn’t your fault, you know.”
Clavis’s eyes rose in shock, the reflexive quip snuffed from his lips by the serious look in Leon’s gaze.
“Mr. Demandeur made his own choices. He chose a dangerous path—however noble. He made the choice to live that life—not Carla, not you.” Leon opened the door. “The consequences of that life are his and his alone.”
…
A lone rider trekked deep in the woods. The underbrush was thick with small saplings, broken branches, and rocks littering the forest floor. A horse stopped underneath a clump of mature trees; light filtered through the tree canopies, highlighting a meticulously cared for gravestone.
Richard Demandeur
Loving Father and Husband; Restorer of Freedom
The gravestone was the only thing not covered in moss, leaves, or other forest debris. Though the gravestone was several miles from Leouch, the reverence in which it was kept pristine showed the value the man had in life. A few conversations with the townsfolk of Leouch informed Leon that when Carla was not in town, Clavis paid for others to keep the grave clean.
Leon dismounted from the horse in silence, gathering his thoughts. The horse dropped his head, picking up on the solemnity of the moment. Three white roses were placed neatly on the ground by the stone marker.
“Hi. I’m Leon.” Leon knelt on the ground, lightly touching one of the rose petals. “I had hoped to meet you in person one day. Carla speaks of you so vividly, I didn’t know you were gone until recently.”
As a commander of soldiers, Leon was familiar with death. It was always in the back of every soldier’s mind—the notion that one day, you may never come back. That ensuring others security and safety meant risking your own. But he was trained for that life—as were the men that served under him.
Richard was not.
At an age where many considered slowing down, Richard sped up his life’s impact. In the last 5 years of his life, Richard and Carla had helped more than 100 people escape to Rhodolite—people seeking freedom, freedom from starvation, a slaver’s whip, Obsidian darkness. What he lacked in physical strength he made up in sheer determination and ingenuity (along with some well-placed Clavis traps) in secreting these people away from lives of despair. That bravery and idealism was matched in his daughter Carla, who joined him on his escape missions, and who worked afterwards to ensure these people were successfully integrated into Leouch into new jobs. Bakers, tutors, craftsmen, and their families were living their best lives thanks to a father-daughter duo who gave them that chance. It was an idealism steeped in practicality that especially earned from Leon his respect. And admiration.
“Carla misses you. She always will. I hope to be someone to help ease that pain of hers.” The forest was eerily silent—not even the wind stirred. It was as if the trees and all the woodland creatures around them were focused solely on listening to Leon. He continued.
“I’m another prince in your daughter’s life. No, not like Clavis.” Leon could hear Carla’s laughter as he recalled her stories of Clavis and Mr. Demandeur. Richard had been a willing tester of Clavis’s inventions—the smoke bomb, the tickling fingers that made a soldier drop their weapon, the invisible shadow that made one able to blend seamlessly into the night. The testing typically resulted in disaster—tar stuck for days in his hair, skin turning shades of purple and gold (“Can’t you at least pick colors that look better on me!” Richard would lament to Clavis and Carla’s delight)—but the moment the testing proved positive, Richard was the first to sing Clavis’ praise—and mobilize another rescue mission with Carla with those inventions. The Leouch inventions were integral to the rescue missions, and had a 100% success rate.
Until Richard’s last mission.
“I admire people like you.” Leon sat on the ground and peered at the gravestone as if it were a person conversing with him. “People like you give hope to those without it. To people like me.” Leon clinched his hands as he recalled his childhood—his true childhood, a legacy that never left him, the days that weighted on him like a stone attached to his back.
Leon ran fingers through his hair, shaking away the tendrils of bleaknesses that gnawed at him. “You see—I’m a prince, but I wasn’t born one. I was a slave—like some of those you rescued.”
Little by little, Leon spoke. Of hands raw from work; of a back aching from unhealed whip marks and stones hauled from quarries; of a belly so empty he ate moss to quell its rumbling. He had only told one other person these things—Carla.
“I used to think life would always be that way.” A series of unending days steeped in drudgery. “But then, I was given a second chance. A chance to change my life—by taking on someone else’s.”
Leon closed his eyes, picking up one the white roses. He slowly opened them before going on. “You see—I thought I had to earn that chance. And that the only way to do that was to become king. To become Leon Dompteur. To dedicate my entire life towards the kingdom that took me in for a single coin.”
“That is, until I met Carla.”
Leon paused, his thoughts drifting towards the woman he loved. His heart squeezed tenderly at the image of her in his mind—her skirt twirling as she danced with him, the way her eyes sparkled as she talked with townspeople, the mischief in her voice at modifying another Clavis trap. Her stories. Stories of freedom. Stories that made Leon feel alive again.
“Your daughter is wonderful. I know, I’m not telling you something you’re unaware of.” Leon laughed. “She’s vibrant, brave, caring, passionate about everything. And everyone.” Leon’s lips quirked wryly. “Well, not everyone I hope.” The horse whinnied suddenly as a large branch fell to the ground; Leon’s shoulders jolted at the sound.
“Hey, there’s no need for THAT.” Leon placed the rose on top of the gravestone, his eyebrows lifting slightly. “I said hope.” Leon tapped his knee with his fingers before continuing.
“With Carla, I remember who I am. She reminds me there are different ways to dedicate your life with meaning.” Seeking life in the everyday—tavern dinners, town dances, talking with shop keepers—and the extraordinary—daring rescues and escapes, free from royal confines and restrictions—was profound.
“With Carla, I’m Leon. Just Leon. And she’s taught me dedication can be to a kingdom and to a person.” The man Leon was when he was with Carla was the most genuine version of himself—a man of unwavering passion, love, and commitment. And it was something he didn’t want to lose.
The feelings that threatened to spill from Leon’s lips were so overwhelming it was nearly impossible to distill them into words. He settled for simplicity. Words tumbled quickly, flowing with a winding warmth.
“I love your daughter. So, so much. If she’ll let me, I’ll always be there for her. And carry on your mission alongside her. I hope you approve.”
The air stirred gently, leaves twirling and landing on Leon’s hair and shoulders. Sunlight flickered from the treetops, lighting the grave and Leon. Leon’s eyes widened before he smiled gently.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Leon got up and nodded at the grave. His lips lifted slightly. “Thanks Dad.”
Another branch fell on the ground nearby, scattering a flurry of leaves everywhere. “OK, geez! I guess I haven’t earned the right to call you that yet!” Leon’s voice cut the revenant air with a laugh. “How about Richard?”
A strong breeze picked up. A few branches swayed perilously overhead. “Mr. Demandeur?” The wind slowed down.
“Mr. Demandeur. Got it.” Leon mounted his horse. “I’ll bring Carla with me next time.” Leon glanced upwards at the trees. “And Clavis.” The wind died completely. A beam of light streamed down on Leon and the horse.
“Good. Clavis misses you too.” Leon rode away, parting with one final statement.
“We’ll make you proud sir. All three of us.”