"The sky is dark and muddy today," muttered Samul. On his wooden desk, stacks of paperwork and scrolls all demanded his attention. Taking a break from all of this boring work, Samul would usually stare off into the sky and contemplate. Unfortunately, the near-eternal gloomy skies made it much harder to do so.
A drop of sweat fell down onto his throbbing hands. Samul sighed. Ever since King Dawud, his father, fell ill, Samul was the next person everyone turned to for royal work. Indeed, he was the Crown Prince. Samul disliked the title.
"Crowns are objects of vanity, a superficial symbol used to exert power and fear. To say a crown defines the next king is to say the crown defines a king. In truth, a king is far more than his crown: He is the living crystallization of a nation and should act with dignity, wisdom and foresight over vanity and appearances."
That quote from Flemington always guided Samul. However, now that he would probably receive the throne, anxiety triumphed over his confidence and convictions. It didn't help that the world was likely ending.
Samul snickered. Looking over the paperwork, he read, "Royal grant for the construction and establishment of a lordship within the burned remains of the town of Vizier."
Raising his eyebrows, he grabbed a pen and carefully read the document. While the contents themselves were monotonous, he found himself curious at this strange event. An entire lordship, burned to ashes in a single day.
It didn't make sense no matter how much he spun it around his head. Humidity was high, and the possibility of a wildfire within the farmland surrounding the lordship was almost negligeable. Samul frowned. 'Human-caused fire?' He thought.
It also seemed ludicrous, and posed a few problems. No nobles' homes ran hearths at this time of year, as the combination of humidity and heat made it useless. Smithies and homes, which used fires for other purposes, were plausible.
'However, how can it be that no one noticed the fires in time and extinguished them?' Samul placed his stamp on the document, his mind elsewhere. Feeling his mood dampen down, he paced through the paperwork and slouched down his chair.
Fortunately, this was a secret study. No one knew this place other than his siblings and most trusted of servants. It was the only place where he could relax from the constant flattery and court politics he had grown to hate.
"They've gotten even more ridiculous now that Dad is i-
A knock came at the door, interrupting his monologue. "Who is it?" Samul asked.
"It is your servant, Your Majesty," A familiar voice sounded from beyond the door.
"Enter."
As the voice slowly opened, a scent wafted over to Samul's nostrils. It was the smell of a fresh meal. Indeed, a suit-wearing butler entered with a tray in his hands.
Bowing down, he said, "Your Majesty, I thought it right to bring you lunch as you had not eaten anything today. Please forgive this one for his insolence."
Samul nodded and said, "It is alright. Raise your head and bring the platter here, please."
The servant did as he was ordered. Looking over at the food, Samul frowned. It wasn't because it was bad food – it was a vegetable stir-fry with sirloin, cream on the side and fresh bread. By all standards, it was good food. However, the mere sight of it maddened Samul.
Grunting, he beckoned to his servant. "I believe I ordered an alteration of my diet."
The servant shook, then froze. Stuttering and speaking anxiously, he replied, "Your Majesty, it is Prince Rashek that ordered me to keep your current diet. He has declared that a diet of mushrooms was not fit for a prince-
Samul slammed his hand on the table. 'That moron!' He kept these thoughts to his head.
"I believe I was clear enough. Food prices are rising, and crops are harder to cultivate without constant sunlight."
Standing up, he took the most commanding pose he could, and ordered, "As Crown Prince Samul and Minister of Defense and Agriculture, henceforth, I shall only accept foods made from mushrooms and plants that can grow without sunlight. Our family cannot purchase these crops, we will only raise the prices for the commoners."
An invisible pressure spread throughout the room. Samul was not a tyrant that depended on domination to rule. However, he was educated in the ways of a king and had the presence of an elephant in the room.
The servant fell down to his knees, "I understand, Your Majesty."
'What was I thinking?' Samul felt embarrassed at himself. He had allowed himself to grow so upset and cringy because of such a small mistake.
'It must be the work and stress,' He thought and wiped his forehead.
The servant stood up to leave. Samul stopped him, "By the way, stop calling me Your Majesty. I am not king yet."
"Y-yes, Crown Prince."
With that, the study went back to quiet. His mind was anything but quiet, however.
'Rashek, Rashek, Rashek…'
That man was his closest brother. Recently, their relationship became tense. Because of the King's illness, Samul was thrown into the spotlight while the other princes were struggling at maintaining their faction.
"Rashek is a good man. I just wish he wasn't such a conservative moron sometimes."
And he meant it. Even though the other prince was doing what he must, garnering political influence, Samul truly thought that Rashek was an honorable man. He could lead well, and was a capable Minister and Member of Parliament. However, he was keen on vehemently opposing anything Samul proposed these days.
He had to confront his brother.
Samul stood up as he realized his arm had gotten numb from him laying down on it. Leaving his study, he navigated the labyrinthine paths of the ruins of the old palace. Making his way into the gloomy day, he walked with his back raised and head resolute. He knew where he was going.
After depositing the signed documents to the royal advisors, he headed directly to the Parliament Building. Worthy of the immense duties it had, the building was also immense. With columns that rose as high as thirty men and colossal windows, it demanded attention.
As the Crown Prince, his passage was littered with bowing guards who all welcomed him.
"Your Majesty."
"Your Majesty."
"Crown Prince."
Moving right into the building, he quickly found the chamber where his brother stood. Coincidently, it was also the loudest chamber. In a large amphitheater filled with robed men, one stood out. He was younger than the others and had striking blond hair, a feature very rare within the Shumer Kingdom.
"It is ludicrous to argue that price maximums for common commodities offer any real benefit. If anything, since most merchants do not ever exceed the maximum, the Kingdom loses out on revenue brought in by special commodities that legally fall into these categories. Black Durum Wheat, a luxury item, is such an example and brings respectable income to both merchants and the state."
The chamber quietened down. The other standing man, with whom the blond was arguing, sat down and remained silent. Samul snickered. He knew this quiet very well. His brother, Rashek, was not only an excellent statesman, but also an excellent debater.
Unfortunately, his snicker rung like a drum within the quiet chamber. Everyone turned to him. When they saw who it was, they all stood up and shouted, "Honor to Your Majesty!"
"You all. Sit down, I have some affairs with my brother."
Like a wave, all of the parliamentarians sat back down.
"Brother and Prince Rashek."
"Your- Brother and Crown Prince Samul, what brings you to Parliament?" Rashek stepped down the stairs with nimble legs and an agility only matched by his grace. When he was in front of Samul, the latter replied, "I've come to ask you to stop rescinding my dietary orders."
Rashek clicked his tongue, a trademark gesture of his. Then, he shook his head and replied, "Brother, you fail to take into account the image of the royal family. What if a gossipy servant sees you eating cheap mushrooms and nightshades? What will they think of the royal family?"
"That we've gone broke? That we can't afford to run a kingdom?"
Samul sighed. Always the same arguments. Replying, he said, "I believe that would be applicable in normal circumstances. However, the stormclouds have made agriculture difficult. It would reflect well for the royal family if we follow austerity in our consumption. If the rest of the kingdom follows, we might even avoid another famine."
Rashek shook his head, "Changing long nutritional traditions will disrupt our nation even more than a famine. As Minister of Agriculture, don't you think you should be focusing on increasing yields rather than investing into niche crops?"
Samul didn't yield down. "Rapidly increasing yields will degrade soil quality as to make any agriculture impossible. Haven't you seen what happened to Nova Caledonia? They're going through mass starvation because of the exact policies you wish me to enact."
Rashek shrugged. Turning around, all of the other members observed him.
"Also, price maximums will not affect luxury items if they are placed into separate categories. No one buys Black Durum Wheat out of necessity, brother."
Rashek smiled. "Can you come by later by my estate?"
"Official work? I'm feeling rather fatigued."
"It's urgent. I'd really like your input."
Samul ended up accepting.
Therefore, later that night, he made his way into the Second Prince's home, a luxury manor in the center of the capital. Smoothly entering, he found himself surprised by the lavish surroundings. All of the gold and gems scattered around would probably be worth a small city if sold. 'What a waste,' Samul thought.
Making his way into the bedchambers of the prince, he found Rashek concentrated on a pile of documents like his own.
"Ministry work?"
Rashek jumped out of his chair. "I didn't notice you."
Samul laughed, "You were too focused. Don't leave your back to the door, someone could easily assassinate you."
Rashek laughed dryly, "Crass jokes."
Samul approached his brother, "Either way, what did you need me for?"
The striking blue eyes of his brother shook. Samul furrowed his brows. If it was something that bothered even the prince of composure, it must be important.
"Have you reviewed the Lord Vizier case?" Rashek closed the door and asked.
'Of course, it's that one,' Samul froze.
"I find the case very strange, yes."
Rashek fixed him and asked, "Have you seen the results of our investigation?"
"No, I haven't. Did you find anything more?"
Rashek nodded. Bringing out a few papers from the pile of documents, he read, "Although the fire is estimated to have cost the lives four thousand individuals, no skeletal remains have been found on site. On top of that, movements between lordships indicates only a quarter of the lordship's population fled during the fire. That leaves three quarters, including proprietor Lord Vizier, missing."
"No corpses have been found?" Samul shivered.
"Just wait. On top of that, buildings show signs of flood damage, although only light rains were anticipated at the time of the blaze. While the town is empty and destroyed, an unnamed slave boy has been found injured at the center of the town."