Magician Prince Read Free Page A

much about the infernal magical arts from
Kennath and the sorcerer.
    A portly nobleman from the south was talking…
for how long? He was one of the warlords, so Janus should know his
name, but he could not bring himself to care. The prince watched
with apathy as the man’s double chin jiggled with each word. What
did this one want? He was going on and on about his daughter. She
was a striking girl to be certain, probably around sixteen years.
Her hair was a soft golden color and possessed radiance not unlike
the early morning sun. The silky strands flowed down her blouse
ending just above her ample breasts. Finally, there was someone
worthy of his consideration in the king’s court.
    Now the fat warlord was introducing the young
woman. Splendid. “Your highness,” he blubbered, “please allow me to
introduce my betrothed, Lady Chirsten of House Lionfang.”
Disgusting. To think that fat, lecherous windbag would be defiling
such a lovely young creature soon if he was not already. Now Janus
had no choice, but to show the gorgeous thing a night of
satisfaction before she was married to such a grotesque man and
became his forever. The prince was honor-bound to give the girl one
brilliant memory of pleasure before being subjected to a lifetime
of misery.
    The fat warlord was still talking. Was it
possible that the man was growing fatter even as he stood there
yammering incessantly? Another woman was stepping forward. She was
not as large as the warlord, but she had the potential for
greatness of girth. “And as you may recall this is my eldest
daughter from my first marriage,” the warlord boasted.
    “Yes, the good lady, Gwyneth,” King Kale
stated warmly as if he truly cared. It was a remarkable talent that
the shrewd king had to remember the names and faces of the most
unimportant of his subjects and act as if they mattered. Of course,
it was only remarkable in the fact that it was a foolish talent to
even entertain. His father was the most powerful man in all of
Aurelia what did it matter if he knew the name of some warlord from
the south land’s husky offspring.
    Speaking of the cow, she was smiling
expectantly at the prince and everyone was looking at him. “Pardon
my rudeness, dear… Gwyneth. I must have been captivated by your
beauty.” Janus tilted his head deferentially and graced her with a
warm smile that made her blush. That should appease them.
    The daily court went on for far too long and
the prince did his best to keep his mind on the matters at hand to
avoid the embarrassment of being caught not paying attention. These
daily gatherings were a joke anyway. Part of the meetings were
devoted to direct edicts of the king and that was easily the most
important part of these sessions, but most of it was taken up by
his father being forced to listen to other people’s ideas,
requests, and grievances as if he were somehow beholden to them
instead of the other way around.
    When the court was dismissed, Janus took his
place at his father’s right hand side as was customary at the end
of these meetings. “Do you think anyone caught you daydreaming?”
King Kale asked tersely.
    “Not likely, father, and if they did it would
not be their place to say so,” the prince answered coolly. Few
would dare to respond to the king in such a familiar manner, but
being the man’s only heir did afford Janus a little more leeway
than most.
    “No, they would say so behind your back and
that is far worse,” the king corrected him, “because it would be
the grumbling of men at their dinner tables to their families or at
a tavern with their friends. It would seem so inconsequential to
them that they would think nothing of saying that Prince Janus does
not listen to the people around him, but that would be the seed of
discontent being planted and in hard times such as we now face that
seed could grow into rebellion.”
    “We already face a rebellion, father,” Janus
reminded him, “and to speak ill of the king or a prince