Oliver Lesse.
That was the name of the silver-earred bard.It was a simple yet strong name.
Fennel didn't understand why, but the name made his heart race, his breath catch in his throat, and his stomach tense. These were feelings that were unfamiliar, as no noble woman had ever caused him to react in such a way.
He wanted to spend more time with the musician. If it was for the wrong reasons, he didn't care.
Fennel was the heir to the throne.
Oliver was just a bard, a commoner, and an outsider.
If the musician was truly talented, he didn't see any problem in allowing the man to take the palace bard's position. In fact, his mother would immediately accept a referral from the future king if presented to her.
Oliver was also quite attractive, which was another factor.
Fennel was eighteen and had not found anyone to whom he felt the same attraction as he did for the bard.
He was sure if he asked Oliver, the man would be flattered, and would possibly accept the position. Perhaps it would lead to a whirlwind romance within the palace walls.
However, it didn't feel right to Fennel.He had only just met Oliver. He couldn't force himself on Oliver, especially if he were to become a member of the royal court.
Surely Oliver needed more time to decide if he wanted to fulfill such an important, life-changing role.
The prince wasn't forcing the man into a relationship.
Fennel shook his head.
"Why am I thinking like this?" Fennel questioned himself aloud.
He hadn't even spoken to Oliver since the day they met, but the idea of a romantic relationship had popped into his head.
If his father knew his son was having such thoughts, he would be rolling in his grave.
The late king was strict and set an example for others to follow. He had lived an honest and humble life.
He was a hero, a leader, and a noble man.He had married a woman of noble birth. He was not a man of high-ranking nobility, but a man who had proven himself through valiant actions.
Fennel didn't have the luxury of following the same path as his father and waiting to marry until he was well into adulthood. Even though he knew it was his fate and had known it since he was a child, the thought disgusted him.
Many fine nobles would receive invitations to the ball. They would attempt to seduce him, because what woman wouldn't yearn for the prestigious position as the kingdom's queen?
Fennel would have the freedom to select the one he preferred. It would be an easy way to choose a spouse.
After all, that was what his parents had done. They chose each other.
It was the aristocracy's way, but it seemed unromantic to the prince.
How could a stranger be chosen for him?
It wasn't his style.
He wanted true love. He wanted to fall in love with a kind person, someone who was beautiful on the inside as well as out, and who was hard-working and loyal.
"Oliver is the only one I have spoken with with whom I felt a connection," Fennel thought, his heart beating faster.
Fennel knew marriage to a man was out of the question.
Fennel was sitting on the lavish window seat in his bedroom. He had drawn the curtains open and gazed out over the courtyard, encircled by the castle's walls.
It was a beautiful sight, but the view wasn't what was occupying the prince's mind.
A soft knock was heard at the door, followed by a gentle voice.
"My prince?"
"Enter." Fennel spoke loudly enough for the voice to understand him.
"Prince Fennel, the King's funeral will be tomorrow," the man said, entering the room and closing the door behind him. "Your mother wishes to speak with you."
Fennel nodded, sighing and closing his eyes. "I will go to her soon."
"She's waiting, my lord."
"I know," Fennel whispered. "Tell her I will be there momentarily."
"Yes, your highness," the man bowed and exited the room.
Fennel's mother had always been an amazing woman, even when the prince was very young. She was a strong woman, and she had the strength of a lioness.
She was the one who taught Fennel to never give up, and to never back down.
His mother was a formidable presence.
She was intelligent and cunning, and she had undeniable power. She was the only woman in the kingdom who could frighten his father.
If a person got on her bad side, she could kill them with her icy glare.
Fennel knew how to keep his mother happy, though. Thankfully, she had a rather soft spot for her only son. He was the only person who could get away with anything in her eyes.
His mother, the Queen, was a wise woman, and she loved her son more than anything else in the world, but he was sure the woman, as strong as she was, had no desire to continue her rule without the king.
Fennel was aware of the conversation she hoped to have with him. She wanted him to go through the coronation and become the king. It was an issue that Fennel had no control over. He was born with royal blood, so he would have to bear it.
It was unusual for a royal of his age to find himself in such a position. He didn't feel like he had time to adjust to life as a young adult. One moment he was a child, and the next he would be a king.
It was a daunting and overwhelming responsibility.
Fennel looked out the window, his thoughts returning to the bard.
"I wonder if he will take the position?" he whispered to himself, his hand over his heart.
Fennel left his bed chambers and made his way toward his mother's. He tucked a strand of his copper hair behind his right ear and sighed. His ears drooped as he approached the room.
When he arrived at his mother's chambers, he saw the door immediately open.
On the other side of the door was none other than Queen Anise Satnuro, the fiery, red-headed royal from whom he inherited his copper hair.
The woman, who was a decade older than her husband, was still a beautiful and young-looking woman who had an elegant style and a grace to match her beauty.
"Mother," Fennel said, bowing his head slightly.
"Don't bow to me, dear," the woman replied. "We are family, and you will be king soon."
"Of course," Fennel smiled, entering the room.
"Come, we must talk."
Fennel watched his mother close the door, and he followed her over to a pair of comfortable chairs near a window.
With a serious expression, the queen initiated the conversation. "I'm sure you are aware of what I have to say."
"Yes," Fennel whispered.
"Do not fear," she assured her son. "You will be a powerful king. You will lead the kingdom into continued prosperity."
"I am not sure of that," the prince admitted.
"You will be. The kingdom will not fail under your reign," the woman stated.
Fennel remained silent, but nodded his head. He wasn't sure he would be a worthy king, but he didn't want to disobey his mother. He had to do the best thing for the crown, even if he sacrificed his personal happiness.
"Will the ceremony be public?" the prince asked.
"Yes, all subjects are invited to attend, but only nobility and high-ranking members of the military will be present for the coronation itself," his mother answered.
"I see," Fennel muttered, looking down.
"You don't seem excited," the woman sighed. "Why is that?"
"I am scared, mother," the prince answered honestly.
"Oh, sweetheart," the queen frowned. "Please do not be."
"It's a big responsibility," Fennel sighed. "Father died before teaching me everything."
"You will learn," she smiled, placing her hand on her son's shoulder. "Your father and I are proud of you, Fennel."
"Thank you," the prince replied.
"After the coronation," Queen Anise began, "We will hold a ball. Naturally, we will invite only the most beautiful and intelligent noblewomen from the continent to attend."
"That will be a waste of time," Fennel said, rolling his eyes. "I do not desire a spouse, mother."
"I understand your feelings," the queen agreed. "At one point, I didn't feel significantly different, but I had to marry." It will happen whether you want it to or not. It's your duty to the kingdom. Your father and I had the same feelings, but we eventually fell in love."
"It doesn't feel right to marry a woman I don't even know," Fennel muttered. "But I realize it is tradition and a sacrifice I must make for my privilege in this world."
"Exactly." The queen nodded. "I'm glad you understand your role."
"Will there be other nobles present for the ball?" the prince asked.
"There will be," she replied.
"Good!" Fennel smiled. "I will have someone to talk to, then."
"Yes, dear," the woman chuckled. "You may have to entertain the girls a little, though. They will not be there simply to eat and talk."
"I know, mother," the prince said, smiling.
"Also, we've found a new royal bard," she said, smiling. "I heard him playing on the hill the night you went into town."
"Did you?" Fennel asked, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Yes, his name is Oliver." The queen's eyes shone. "He has accepted the position."
Fennel had mixed emotions. He was pleased that the musician would be close, but it meant that their relationship was strictly professional.
"You've already met him, have you not?" his mother asked.
"I have," the prince answered.
"I'm sure the two of you will become fast friends," she said. The castle has already assigned him quarters. I am thrilled he came to us. His talent may even surpass that of our previous bard."
"Yes, mother," Fennel nodded.
"Do not worry," the queen grinned. "Soon, we will have a grand ball. All of the continent will know about my son, the new king, and you will find a bride."
"Of course," the prince smiled.
"The ceremony will be soon," the woman stated. "We will bury your father in a few short days and hold the coronation the following day. "I have a feeling you will find your spouse at the ball."
"Perhaps." Fennel smiled softly.
"We shall see," the queen smirked. "Now, I must prepare myself. The funeral is tomorrow, and we cannot afford to be late."
"No, we cannot," Fennel agreed, standing and hugging his mother.
"Have faith, Fennel," the woman said, hugging her son.
"Yes, mother," the prince whispered.
Fennel left the queen's chambers and returned to his own. He sat on the window seat and closed his eyes, his thoughts swirling in his mind.
He was glad Oliver had decided to take the position he had offered when they met. He couldn't imagine a more suitable candidate.
Fennel felt his heart beating in his chest. As he thought about the encounter, his tail wagged excitedly in the confines of his bed chambers.
Fennel knew he shouldn't be having the thoughts he had, but he wanted to speak to Oliver again. He hoped they could become outstanding friends.
He knew it was forbidden for him to have any sort of physical interest, but when he thought about how the silver-haired man's face looked under the moonlight's bask, his cheeks began to flush.
The prince sighed, his hand covering his heart.
"Why are you having these thoughts?" he whispered to himself. "Stop."
Fennel laid down on his bed and tried to relax. He was going to have a busy few days, so he needed his rest. Even after the sun had long set and night drifted into the kingdom, he couldn't wind down his thoughts enough to fall into a slumber.
As he tossed and turned, he could only think about one thing: Oliver.