Time to Read:
As the coachman brought the horse pulling the carriage to a halt before Fragrance Breeze Palace, Çetžak was the first to disembark in the courtyard lit by lanterns. As if the action had been ingrained in his muscles, he turned around and extended his hand toward the carriage. It startled him, because he couldn’t remember he had ever acted in such service to anyone. During his years in the Ažamür Cavalry, there had been nobody vain enough to believe they had the right to use a carriage, when even a general from the Kharanlar clan opted for travel horseback.
Fingertips of a pale, slender hand reached outward from the dim interior. Çetžak, afraid to offend by overstepping boundaries by touching royalty or offering support that one of the prince’s servants was supposed to offer, pulled his hand back. The prince’s hand paused, momentarily frozen in time. The fingers curled in the air, as if trying to grasp something, before the prince resolutely grabbed hold of the frame to support himself as he alighted the vehicle with no service to help him.
An alarmed servant, dressed in a brown coat with embroidery along the lapel and hem, a patterned sash and a leather belt, rushed forward to offer support for His Royal Highness down the steps provided for the passenger’s ease. The prince let the servant take his arm as he himself took hold of his robes and raised them with one hand, while the lower half of his face remain hidden behind the fan.
The servant, surely about the same age as the prince, spoke quietly to the prince, presumably asking questions of the prince’s well-being, until Çetžak heard the prince simply tell the servant, “That’s quite enough, thank you.”
His Royal Highness cast a glance at Çetžak before he gave command to the servant, motioning to the palace itself with his ornate fan. The servant acknowledged the order and moved to speak with someone else to relay the orders.
Çetžak studied the prince, whose expression had a resting smile, with none of the unhappiness from earlier seeming to remain, but it was nothing like the brief teasing face Çetžak had received during the short ride, nor the expression the prince had while amused.
Çetžak noted movement from the corner of his eye and grabbed the wrist of a person clad in green with precision. He turned to the startled guard, whose uniform was adorned with confronted winged tigers, much like Židad’s. The bodyguard’s eyes were momentarily wide, but he quickly returned to a calm exterior.
“Captain?” the man asked. “Is something the matter?”
Çetžak considered his words, then whispered, “How do I address this person? What are their rank and status? Are they of great importance?”
The bodyguard looked taken aback, then tentatively smiled. “Surely the captain is jesting? From what I have understood in my service under the Captain, you address His Royal Highness the Prince with simply ‘His Highness’ on almost every occasion since many years.”
“And otherwise?” Çetžak asked.
The bodyguard pondered this before replying, “Is it not simply adapted in whatever fashion each situation may call for, Captain?”
Çetžak let go of the bodyguard, who gave him a curious look before strolling to the prince, bowing and quietly relaying something. As the bodyguard spoke, two young boys, perhaps in their third cycle but surely close to their Sky Year, ran over to them with a cloak.
The prince’s expression warmed at the sight of these boys and the way they presented the fur cloak to their master. Despite the slight difficulty in putting on the cloak for the two boys, both shorter than the prince, he leaned forward so the two could put the cloak over his shoulders and fasten it for him. He thanked them warmly for their concern.
However, it would appear that warmth was only extended to these boy servants, as when the prince looked up once more, his expression had turned into a polite smile that put Çetžak ill at ease. It was not that the smile lacked warmth in any way, but the guard still got the sense that the chilly early morning hour had turned into the frigid nights of winter.
“Captain,” a man’s voice near Çetžak spoke up. There was a pause before the man repeated, “Captain?” The man coughed quietly and called out again. “Captain Züčan?”
With a jolt, Çetžak realised, he was the one addressed, and he turned to see Židad, still looking older than he remembered the man had been last time he saw him, standing a respectful distance away from him. He held his hand behind his back and looked at the scene, scanning the environment with his eyes.
“Yes, Židad, what is it?” He paused. “No, is it ‘Lieutenant’ now?”
“You still call me by name at this age, Captain,” Židad helpfully explained. “That has never changed, even after you left the Ažamür Cavalry at sixteen.”
Çetžak was left stunned by the revelation he had left the Cavalry when he was sixteen. He vaguely recalled his šüssad had mentioned that Çetžak might be transferred to a different military unit to improve his skill and rise in ranks, but he hadn’t got the sense that he was supposed to leave the Cavalry altogether, and that it was at a somewhat older age.
He opened his mouth, then closed it, at a loss for words.
Židad broke the silence between them, asking, “This may sound preposterous, but would the Captain not have a word with His Royal Highness? He was terribly anxious to find you upon we heard news of you seeing a healer. He refused to return to bed even though it was clear he had barely received any sleep, despite going to bed before the end of the first earth hour.”
“This person… His Royal Highness tends to retire so late at night?”
“Yes. His Royal Highness retires for the night when the morning hours begin. Could you not do something about this matter? You need not say much to him, I am sure. Just show concern.”
Despite the peculiarity of the request, Çetžak approached His Royal Highness. He swiftly thought through the interactions he had observed so far, and considered how his interactions with the prince had played out in the carriage.
The prince gave him a sidelong glance before dismissing the two boy servants, raising the fan once more after having let it rest in the palms of his hands. It was elegantly held, with only part of the royal’s jaw hidden behind it, allowing Çetžak to see the polite smile the prince granted him when the royal turned his attention to him.
It hadn’t been visible in the dim interior of the carriage, the light from the lanterns spilling in through the windows not enough to see many details, but now that Çetžak stood closer and the light was sufficient, he couldn’t help but study the beauty before him. He had assumed this person was attractive already in the carriage, but he had greatly underestimated the charm.
To believe that Çetžak was the Captain of the unit of Imperial Bodyguards that guarded this person was a difficult task.
But more so, how could Çetžak ever have entered this person’s bedchamber for any reason? He already struggled to believe such a thing in the carriage, yet it was even more difficult to accept now.
This was a mortal incarnation of a deity of beauty. There was a natural mischievousness to the expression, in the way the prince’s lips curved and at the tail ends of his eyes. Çetžak could tell that an ambiguous look and the wrong words uttered by the prince would easily be interpreted as flirtatious.
And yet, Çetžak did indeed see the signs of fatigue; redness at the rims of the prince’s eyes and a certain gloss that could not be hidden, a minimal twitch at the corner of the lips and a suppressed yawn.
The person before him looked up at him in silence, waiting for the guard to speak, not shying away from Çetžak’s prolonged stare.
Placing his fist over his heart, he bowed deeply. “Would Your Royal Highness please consider retiring for the night? It would be a shame to lose any more sleep over trivial matters.”
The prince gave the guard a hard look and then looked away from him. “Does the morning session of court not begin soon? As Žüčan is in no condition to come along with me,” he swept the courtyard with his eyes, considering the guards available, “who would be most—”
“Your Royal Highness, you ought to sleep.”
The entire palace courtyard seemed to freeze over in an instant.
Where Çetžak got the audacity to interrupt someone of royalty background, and with such a firm tone of voice, even he himself couldn’t say, but it earned him a sharp look, which made Çetžak pause for a moment. However, he could see it was not an offended look, despite the expression. Amidst the mask of suppressed anger, he could see a hint of hurt deep in his golden eyes, shown minimally between his eyebrows and how the smile ticked was forced further up.
“Your Highness,” he tried, with the intention to coax the prince gently.
His Royal Highness dropped his gaze away from Çetžak to a downward angle. What he looked at or saw was anyone’s guess, but he soon raised his gaze once more and silently walked away, crossing the courtyard to enter the palace.
The guard followed him with his eyes as activity started up again. Çetžak experienced a complexity of emotions he couldn’t explain. It was difficult to take note of the people around him, and the noise as the service and the guards returned to their tasks was no more than a hum in the background. He only noted how back dressed in an expensive brocade robe was getting further away from him.
How does one offer solace to a stranger, whose station is so lofty that no action is honour enough? he asked himself, but he had no way to respond.
He had never faced a problem like this while in the Cavalry, nor before the High General had picked him up from the roadside outside of Atnaš’ar. He wondered if he had known how to reply to that question, had he any of his memories after his time in the Cavalry. There were so many things he wished he knew, both about himself and about his charge.
How had he ended up in the Imperial Bodyguards at all? That was his greatest question. He had never had strong feelings about the royal lines found in the empire, nor the Imperial Clan, yet here he was, at an unknown age in an unknown future he had never been able to imagine, neither in his wildest dreams nor his most terrifying nightmares.
As the prince reached the gate of the palace, he turned slightly to look back, the ornate circular fan obscuring the lower half of the prince’s face and covering what expression His Royal Highness might have. The golden gaze fell straight upon Çetžak.
Çetžak swallowed.
No matter how he considered it, the prince did look at him in a… somewhat inappropriate way, did he not?
Author’s Note
Is this when I include a mini theatre for a story already in a non-canonical plot situation for no reason? Absolutely.
U’il: What’s that about being picked up from the roadside? I have not heard any sayings like that before. Does it mean General Kharanlar took Žüčan in because he was homeless and orphaned?
Çetžak: My family is not rich in any way, but I am still the eldest son of a farmer.
U’il: Oh! Your name does suit a farmer! A farmer would benefit from being ‘strong’ like an ox. That’s such an appropriate name. But what does it mean you were picked up from the roadside then? That the General took you from your presumed destiny?
Çetžak: While that is true, Your Highness, that’s not quite it…
U’il: Then what?
Židad: Your Royal Highness, the Captain was literally collected from the side of the road by the General at the General’s whim, when we travelled past a group of children, because his name is Züčan.
U’il: Oh, so his name isn’t related to the strength of an ox on the field, but the strength of a war horse!
Židad: Here I had assumed all these years that it referred to the strength of a warrior, but a horse might suit our Captain better. Your Royal Highness is absolutely correct in your assessment of the name Züčan.
Çetžak: …
Now, to explain something that isn’t clear if you don’t know about the world itself since before.
The third cycle refers to a period in a child’s life. The first cycle is either between infancy and age four or from four to eight, depending on the region. The second is the next four years, and the third is thus either age eight to twelve or twelve to sixteen. The third cycle is also known as the sky cycle.
How do we know if the boys are likely in their tween years or early teens then? The narration does give you a hint: while the cycles aren’t precise, the Sun Year is celebrated when someone turns 4, the Sea Year when they turn 8, the Sky Year when they turn 12 and the Soil Year when they turn 16.
You’re free to presume if they’re tween or young teens, but they’re around the age of 12 based on Çetžak’s observations.
As a side note, these boy servants are named Alik and Žúral. U’il-šanad spoils them a little, to be honest. He’s very fond of them and hopes they will grow up well. The canon story goes briefly into how they ended up with the Ninth Prince, but not in-depth, so I can just outright tell you the two were orphans without spoiling.
That was the more relevant worldbuilding. The interesting but really irrelevant worldbuilding notes start here.
Atnaš’ar, where Çetžak’s from, is a former city-state of the Atnaš tribe. It’s southwest of the Imperial Capital and is one of the main trade connections the Capital has to the south because Atnaš’ar is situated by the coast of Minaž Khaçar, also known as the Sea of Denaštür, Minaž-tal or Denaš-tal. Most of the trade from the east and west both go through the southern route.
The city-state has long since been under the Imperial Clan’s rule and the Atnaš main family — or ruling clan, really — has some distant familial ties with the Imperial Clan, but to someone like Çetžak, who is from a branch of the tribe who barely has any relation to the main family except being from the same tribe, it doesn’t matter at all.
Atnaš’ar is also an important post for the Ažamür Cavalry, because of the trade opportunities. The Cavalry isn’t a stationary army and actually can be divided into several responsibilities. The High General is usually a monarch’s most trusted person because they’re the sole part of the military that is directly commanded by the monarch, aside from the Bodyguards.
As another side note, the Imperial Bodyguards used to be part of the Cavalry and were assigned to protect the monarch by the High General from the elite among the Cavalry. Later they were more or less separated, with the Bodyguards being considered the Emperor’s sedentary elite forces while the Cavalry remained mobile.
The Ažamür Cavalry are in charge of the post stations all over the empire, as well as patrols, especially in areas with a higher risk of conflict, both between foreign parties and the empire, and internally, and either support or suppress depending on the situation. While not actually part of their duties, they collect intelligence and relay messages. They also sometimes handle laying out trade agreements, but it’s mostly when they need to acquire materials for themselves.
A majority of solitary personnel in the Ažamür Cavalry will be away from home for years because they seldom stay in one place long. Even if one is in charge of a post station, one ends up somewhere else after a while. This includes the High General as well, but the High General will also need to stay in the Capital for several months at times if the Emperor asks for that, meaning General Kharanlar will be at home for months on rare occasions. That’s why Çetžak said his šüssad might not be in the Capital in chapter 2. But he’s also very confused in chapter 2, since at 16, until he left the Cavalry, he was always with the High General.
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