“Have you visited your grandfather yet?”

An ethereal voice spoke, reverberating off the clear white walls, at a pitch that sounded comforting and rather lovely.

“It has been years, you should see him.”

Frederick was here again. The dreamworld, as he liked to call it, his very own secret. A box of nothingness, encased in a prison that was inescapable, until he had been dismissed.

“Almost forgot about the old warrior, hope he’s doing well.”

“He is, Frederick, he’s waiting for you.”
“Is that so?”

Nothing was real, he reminded himself. This was the dreamworld. 

“It is real, Frederick.” the voice said, “How many times must I tell you?”

Couldn’t be. This was the dreamworld.

“This is rather tiring, Frederick, I am real, I exist. Denying it will get you nowhere.”

Nothing. The Prince was a fool, one who displayed both intelligence, but infuriatingly, chose not to use it. In every aspect, he was an average human being, other than the titles and honours bestowed upon him by a downtrodden kingdom. Yet he was young, and still malleable. He had yet to transform into a true man, despite his looks and adamance that he required nobody to care for him, that he was a strong minded individual with courage and valiance to carry him through the darkest of days. It was true, he did not lack bravery, but that did not make up for his incompetence in declining the support of so many who would follow him. Whether he liked it or not, Frederick would become King, and there was much to teach him in the meantime.

“See your grandfather.”

“I think I will.”

“Wake up.”

{---}

 

The bed creaked as Frederick rose, sweat coating his body. He was back, though and that was enough. The dreamworld was somewhere he could feel both at ease and endangered, and he dreaded going there. It didn’t happen every night, but whenever it did, he was reported to have contortions and fits, at least according to Gridion. Nobody else knew, and Frederick was glad to have such a friend.

 

As his father had said, his room had been untouched since his departure, the clock stopped at exactly six, the drawers yielding moth-bitten clothes and discarded toys, drawings and study materials littered the floor. Looking outside, it seemed around midday, the sun at its zenith with clear skies. Gunther walked around the courtyard, pursuing the same maid he spotted last night, harping fables of a war hero and the gentle treatment of lost damsels. 

 

Firstly, he needed to wash off the sweat, and the Prince entered the bathroom to methodically tip a bucket over his head, naked. The pipes were guttural, obviously the supply to his room had not been maintained, and it took an age to fill every time. Content with the third dump, he dried himself and searched for clothes in the abandoned wardrobes.

 

The search yielded nothing that seemed undamaged, and even if it wasn’t, they were several sizes too small. Then, he realised that his clothes had been laundered, and dried whilst he was in the bathroom. What sort of sorcery was needed to do all of that in twenty minutes, he did not know, but his jacket appeared fresher, the greatcoat having the dust of a campaign beat out of it, and Trinity’s work had been improved on, so that it was almost new. Thanking the unknown caterer, he slipped on the uniform and left the bedroom. 

 

Not a moment before turning the knob, a butler greeted him, followed by a procession of maidstaff. The entire corridor was lined by them, heads bowed. 

‘Uh, good morning?’ he said.

‘Good Morning, Master Frederick.’ they all replied in unison. The butler held out a hand, towards the end of the corridor.

‘If you’d follow me, Master Frederick.’

‘You have petitioners asking for an audience, but before that, breakfast.’

 

The dining hall had been changed from last night, from multiple simple tables to a smaller yet elegant roundtable. Sat at various points were Gridion, Erwin, Trinity, and surprisingly, the twins. Frederick took a seat.

‘Where were you guys?’ he asked, as a platter was set before him. A meat he could not recognise, with eggs, pepper and bread. He realised that he had not eaten a good meal in the past months, and living on jerky became tiresome after a while.

‘Overslept a bit.’ answered Arthur, dissecting his bacon rashers. 

‘And by a bit, the ship left port when we woke up.’ added Walther, ‘We had to row to shore, for Christ's sake.’

‘That’s nobody’s fault but yours.’ Gridion signalled a fork to the pair, ‘Did you get your Battalions off in time?’

‘The 3rd and 4th are bunked down at the park.’ Walther said.

‘The park?’

‘You know, the big green area with trees and-’

‘I know what a park is! So to make this clear, five hundred men are currently camping out in a public area?’

‘Yes, they’re civil enough to leave the civilians alone.’

‘We taught the men to dig holes whenever they needed to take a shit, Walther.’

Walther contemplated for a second, before speaking.

‘Free fertiliser, then.’

Arthur guffawed.

‘Oh get up and come with me!’

Gridion took the twins by the collars and left the room. 

‘See you, Fred.’ said Arthur, swiping the bacon.

 

‘I heard you have petitioners, Frederick.’ Erwin sat to the left of him, Trinity seemed annoyed and wouldn’t even look at him.

‘Yeah, mind telling me what that’s all about?’

‘Like I said, you’ll need sponsors.’ Erwin fumbled with his coat buttons, ‘Fortunately, your father is a smart man, and shut down any would-be challengers yesterday night, though it is merely temporary. That girl, Lily, seems to also be on your side, but do not count on that, you did something to upset her yesterday, it seems.’

‘I have no idea what I did, seriously, believe me.’

Trinity spoke at last.

‘You moron, a childhood promise, that can only mean one thing.’ 

‘Tri, I don’t remember a thing from when I was a kid.’

‘I’ll let you figure it out.’ 

‘More to the point,’ interrupted Erwin, ‘These men and women who come to see you today mean goodwill. They will perhaps grill you for information, test you, they want to know if you’re worth backing.’

‘I’m the Prince, I fail to see how I’m not worth backing.’

‘There’s one reason right there.’ pointed out Erwin, ‘Don’t be so arrogant, they like personality, but too much will deter them, just be ready, most of what they say is to goad you into telling them something, do not fall for it.’

Frederick nodded, and rose. 

‘Thanks, Erwin, I’ll keep it in mind.’ he made for the door.

‘That’s not the way to the Royal Hall.’

‘I know, there’s one more trip I need to make.’

 

{---}

 

The room reeked of death. No natural light seeped in, the only illuminance came from a small lantern that burned on it’s last wicks. One bed, the quilts freshly changed, was placed at the centre, and surrounding it on the walls were relics from an age past. Swords, shields, muskets and armor unused for decades, and the painting of a clean cut man atop a rock, epee in one hand and a bridle to a horse in the other. Compared to the ghastly figure who lay in the bed, there was an eon of difference.

‘Grandfather?’ queried Frederick, closing the door behind him, ‘I’ve come to see you.’

The skeletal elder turned a shrivelled head towards the entrance.

‘Freddie, is that… really you?’ his breaths were shallow, voice grating, ‘My boy, it’s been…’

‘Ten years, Grandfather.’ Frederick finished, hearing him like this was painful.

‘You’ve grown to be… a handsome man, my boy.’ he made an action similar to a smile, teeth showing, still white, ‘You found a woman yet?’

‘Well, sort of, Grandfather, it was sprung on me to be truthful.’

‘That is still good news, the lineage will... continue.’ Grandfather gestured at a chair, ‘Take a seat, Freddie.’

The Prince complied, and stopped his grandfather from rising.

‘I’m fine, lad.’ it was true, the skinny man looked a little brightened, but still not strong, ‘Where have you been then?’

‘All over, Grandfather.’ Frederick replied, ‘Mostly in Romanov, though.’

‘Ahh, I remember.. That cold, cold land.’ his eyes glazed over slightly.

Frederick shifted uncomfortably, he was in for another war story. As a young boy, he had reveled in storytime with his grandfather, who had been King at the time. Always donning a suit of armor, the once youthful King travelled the world, a loyal soldier to Albion, slaying her foes wherever they were. All until that fateful night. To his surprise, Grandfather had not a tale to tell.

‘You are to be King, no?’ Grandfather didn’t wait for a reply, ‘I was once a King, too. They called me Rex Weresen, “Warrior King”, Joseph of Silveria.’

‘Now, I am a broken and old man, my comrades and people I loved long turned to dust and ash, my nation and its people shackled to servitude.. Do you remember that night, my boy?’

‘Yes.’ whispered Frederick. Flashes of fire came into vision. Silver trickled down the stairwell.

‘Of course you do.’ Joseph said apologetically, ‘Your mother was the kindest soul I’ve known, when I heard the news that my son wanted to marry a commoner, I was infuriated Yet she won me over, and the hearts of the people. She had not been forgotten.’

He chuckled lightly, before coughing violently.

‘Sofia, she watches over you, Freddie.’ Joseph covered his eyes as tears began to roll down his dry cheeks, ‘I was a fool to rise against them, it was a stupid and pointless show of bravado, and it cost your mother, dear. dear Sofia, and Justus has yet to forgive me for that.’

‘But you are not a fool.’ the former king lay his head against the pillow looking up at the plaster roof, tiring again, ‘Frederick, you are no fool, and I know you hold a deep desire within yourself to break the chains that bind us.’

‘Grandfather, I don’t want to see my people suffer anymore.’

‘Your people.’ Joseph turned his head to his grandson, ‘You will guide your people, to a destiny that only you can lead them to. Sofia… Sofia has… I’m sorry’

‘Grandfather?’

He lifted a wrist, checking the pulse. Nothing. The warrior king was at rest, at last, his message conveyed. Frederick wept, as Gridion lay a hand on his shoulder.

‘Take all the time you need, friend.’