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I sat at the desk in my study with a quill in my hand. An unfinished letter to Gelyn lay before me. I had already written three openings and discarded all of them. It was a work I was meant to do, which I had postponed for far too long.
I was supposed to tell them that since Carthya and Gelyn were at peace now after the war, reopening trade routes would benefit both kingdoms. Instead, my thoughts kept straying.
I had no talent for negotiation. Darius possessed that skill, though his methods reminded me too much of our father who always gave in to the demands of our enemies. Tobias possessed that talent too and could have written this letter in a quarter of the time. Kerwyn also could have written it with calm logic and measured courtesy and made progress within an hour. So would have Harlowe. The four of them were good with negotiations. I, however, was better at climbing walls and starting wars than preventing them.
I could make jokes with every breath and hand out insults like candy drops. I knew how to issue orders, how to speak the language of war, and I usually said far more of my thoughts than I ever should. But I could hardly negotiate with people. I wondered whether Gelyn might respond better if I simply threatened them and apologized later. They probably wouldn't but I was still considering it.
After several minutes, I sighed, then set the quill aside. I stared at the parchment as if that could help me focus back on work, though I knew precisely why I was making no progress with this.
Today was Mott’s birthday.
He had mentioned it a week ago, almost by accident, when we were planning Tobias’s birthday surprise. He had said it to me, in the most unremarkable way possible, as though the date was completely insignificant to him. I had asked him, what he wanted for his birthday. He had answered casually that he wished for nothing and needed no celebration, or any attention for that matter.
But I knew I could not just let the day pass without making it count.
Mott was my truest friend and my most reliable companion in battle. He had an endless supply of opinions about my decisions and nearly everything I did. To be honest, most of his lectures to me were well-deserved. Though sometimes it felt as if he had made it his life’s mission to oppose me and to argue with me until I had reconsidered whatever reckless plan I had devised.
And yet, without him, I would not have survived the war. Without him, I would not have survived much of anything.
Although he had been Connor’s servant when we first met, he had eventually come to my side. He was also the only one who saw through me when I was Sage in Farthenwood. It was true that he had whipped me on Connor’s orders in his dungeons, but he had apologized for it more times than I could count. I had already forgiven him long ago. He never needed to ask my forgiveness. If anything, I owed him far more than I could ever repay him for all that he had done.
If anyone had reasons to ask forgiveness, it was me. Mott had paid more dearly for the wrongs I had committed to save myself, than I ever had. He had injured himself more than once to protect my secrets.
My life, would be unbearably bleak without him in it.
I’d never known Mott as anything but strong and willing to stay by my side no matter what trouble I might be in. He had always protected me with the might of several men. During the war I had nearly lost him, and the memory of that night still tightened my chest. The injury, he had suffered back then, had slowed him enough to be noticeable and he had worked as hard as anyone possibly could to recover from them. Still, he had promised to serve me all the more loyally than before. I didn’t think such a thing was possible.
Which was why I had already done one thing for his birthday.
Last night, after Tobias’s birthday celebration had ended and the castle had grown quiet, I had sneaked into Mott’s room to leave a gift with a letter upon his table. Though “Sneaking” was a strong word. I wouldn't truly call it sneaking as this was my castle but I had still moved quietly without being noticed. Mott should have probably found them by now. I wondered what he thought about it and hoped he would not pretend indifference.
The door to my study burst open.
“Jaron!”
I looked up just in time to see Fink stride in without knocking, being entirely unapologetic about it.
I frowned at him. “You could knock before you open the door Fink.”
Ignoring that, he said. “You promised we would have a picnic. What are you doing here? Are you busy?”
I glanced back at the abandoned letter to Gelyn. “Not really.” With that, I pushed the paper aside.
He narrowed his eyes, already suspicious. “So we are having a picnic.”
“Yes,” I raised a corner of my mouth, standing up from my chair. “We are.”
The rear gardens were uncommonly peaceful that afternoon. Blankets were spread beneath an old tree, bathed in the broken sunlight that slipped through the leaves. Roden sat beside me, complaining loudly about the new recruits. Tobias was sitting nearby with Amarinda, speaking softly with her. Darius was sitting beside Fink who had been talking endlessly to him for the past ten minutes.
Mott sat to my right from where he observed the scene around us.
Finally, he looked at me and furrowed his brows. “I found the letter you wrote me and a gift in my room this morning. Why are we having a picnic today, Jaron?”
I grinned. “Can't you tell?”
He studied me for a moment, then slowly said. “I certainly can.”
That did not surprise me. Mott had always been the best at reading my mind. He understood me in a way no one else did. He knew me better than others. I doubted anyone else other than him truly ever understood why I did the things I did.
By now, everyone else was looking between us with curiosity on their faces.
I cleared my throat. “Well,” I said, raising my voice, “today is Mott’s birthday. So I thought we might enjoy the day and celebrate.”
There was a brief pause, then voices filled the garden as Tobias glanced at Mott. “I did not know. I have not brought a gift. I promise I will give you one later.”
Roden turned to Mott. “So... happy birthday to you, I guess. Though I didn’t know it was your birthday either.”
Darius stood and stepped forward with a small wrapped parcel. “I had known it,” he smiled. “Trea told me about it long ago. Mott deserves a day like this. Besides,” he eyed me pointedly. “He keeps you out of trouble, which in itself is a difficult task.”
I rolled my eyes at the last line. Darius gave the package to Mott.
“This is for you. Though it is not mine,” he added. “It is from Trea. She sent it to me and asked me to give it to you.”
Mott accepted the gift and held it for a long moment without opening it. His gaze softened. “She remembered it,” he said quietly.
I shrugged. “And this picnic isn't everything. There is still more.”
Though Mott had not wanted a celebration, I had still ordered a cake. Errol arrived with it now. I called him over to us, then insisted that he join us as well for the picnic. Errol was no mere servant. He was my friend, and had known Mott far longer than I had, back when they worked at Farthenwood.
We ate, laughed, and lingered as the afternoon wore on. Later, others occupied themselves in various activities. Roden was arguing with Tobias about something and Fink was playing hide and seek with Errol, who had hidden behind the trees. Amarinda spoke with Darius while Mott and I sat apart beneath the shade of a broad oak tree.
After some time, Mott said. “I thought I told you not to do anything for my birthday Jaron.”
“I know but I had to,” I replied with more sincerity than my tone could offer. “For everything you have done so far. And for everything you mean to me. This is my way of thanking you.”
He said nothing, so I added. “You think I am the biggest fool you have ever met. Yet you stayed and protected me. You even believed that my foolishness would help us win the war we had two years ago.”
Mott smiled faintly. “I know that I was right about that now.”
I smiled back at him. A beat passed, then I grinned, “You are a year older now. When do you plan to marry Trea? You are getting very old Mott.”
He glanced sideways at me. “Be careful, Jaron. Or I will decide not to like you anymore. And maybe I will also not make it fun for you to insult me ever again.” Even as he spoke, he couldn't resist smiling.
I laughed at that. “Well, I cannot have that. Besides, I make your life interesting and you know that already Mott.”
He shook his head. “You do make my life... interesting. Usually in ways I would rather avoid.”
“Just admit it,” I said, still smiling. “You would miss it if I stop doing all the things I usually do.”
And though he did not answer, the smile on his face told me enough.