“Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing.” — Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Grey

  ???

  The air was silent inside Leighton’s modest room in the commoner dormitory. Unlike the noble dormitory or even the royal suite that belongs to Rem, the commoner dorms were far more spartan and bare. It was barely half the size of the noble rooms.

  But in that moment, it felt like the only place untouched by expectation. No guards. No Parliament aides. No curated reports filtered through polished lies. Even Rem’s Crownsguard was stationed outside Leighton’s door.

  It was just the three of them in the room. And the truth.

  Leighton closed the door, turning the lock, before turning towards Rem and Nathan, who were both seated at the low table in a corner of the room, waiting. Nathan looked resigned, but Rem’s eyes were wide.

  “This is the last place that anyone would think to look for you. And with today being the last day of midterms, everyone will be out in town, anyway,” Leighton said. He sighed, exchanging looks with Nathan. “To be honest, it should really be Heiress Nightray or your advisor telling you this. But considering that they did, countless times, even… It’s fallen on us now. To tell you the truth. The unvarnished truth, that is.”

  Rem’s eyes were wide with confusion as he looked from Nathan to Leighton. Kaela’s screams were still ringing in his head, along with Yulia’s cold words to him.

  “Tell him everything. Everything. Leave nothing out. Lay the truth out for him.” Yulia had told Leighton and Nathan before she had left.

  “W-What do you mean?” Rem asked, his heart almost pounding erratically. He swallowed, looking at Nathan, who refused to meet his gaze. Instead, Nathan was staring at the closed curtains of Leighton’s room like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

  Leighton didn’t answer. Instead, he walked towards his bookshelf, running his fingers along the spines of the various books and files, before he finally found what he was looking for. He pulled out a thick black binder, walking over to the table and sitting next to Nathan.

  “Read these,” Leighton said softly, pulling out various newspaper clippings and reports from the binder and placing it in front of Rem. “Then we’ll talk.”

  Rem’s hands shook when he took the newspaper clippings. Some of them were years old—dated shortly after the war with Nuvelle. Clippings from Alathia’s national newspaper, The Alathian Times, with bold headlines and even photos of burned villages, grieving families, and mass graves.

  Words jumped out at Rem from the newspaper clippings as he held one with shaking hands. This one featured a grisly photo of a village with emaciated children and adults alike, with dead bodies rotting in the streets. There was even a photo further down the newspaper clipping of abandoned crop fields. The headline read: Has the Crown Abandoned Us?

  Rem’s eyes widened in horror as he flipped through article after article, truth after truth, each one a blow to the gut. Clippings that revealed the truth of what had been hidden from him for years.

  Except, that’s not quite true, isn’t it? Yulia had tried to tell him for years.

  And Rem had continuously brushed her off, even before they had attended the Academy. Dismissing her concerns when Parliament told him that everything is fine, with Rem believing that Yulia is just blowing things out of proportion.

  Skirmishes happening everywhere in Alathia, with bandits and raiders getting bolder by the day. Farmers too poor to even afford seeds to plant crops. People dying from treatable illnesses that they have been treating for years because of the lack of medicine and supplies. Villages being wiped out due to raids. Entire villages dying due to eating things they shouldn’t, or due to starvation.

  The mass graves due to the people who were dying. The lack of proper gear and weapons for the garrisons stationed in the outposts, with soldiers being so desperate that they have to cobble together whatever they can for gear. Entire regions and villages left in the dark at night and even during the winter months because they couldn’t afford the oil for light.

  Grieving families, with parents burying their children. And even of parents being so desperate and hungry that they were willing to even sell their children for food. Or even families and neighbours turning on each other should someone manage to get their hands on a scrap of food, even if it’s a piece of mouldy bread.

  Rem’s face was ghost-white by the time he finished reading the last newspaper clipping. He placed it down on the table, his hands shaking, as he looked at Leighton and Nathan, his eyes wide, and his mouth dry. His best friends were looking back at him with resigned expressions, but also with steel in their gaze, and with grim resolve.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  They knew, a voice whispered in Rem’s ear. They knew what was happening in Alathia.

  “W-What is this…?” Rem finally found his voice.

  “The truth,” Leighton’s voice was quiet. “The truth that you’ve been ignoring for the past six years, Your Highness. The truth of what had been happening in the kingdom, your kingdom, since the war ended. That your people are dying and begging for help that never came. Even the Ten Great Houses are at their wits’ end!”

  Rem recalled the last time Yulia came to the Imperial Palace. That was a year before they even started at the Academy. She had come to demand that aid be rendered to the Northern Holds under Lord Kael’s protection, Rem recalled.

  “Everything is just fine, Your Highness,” One of Parliament’s officials had told Rem. “Heiress Nightray is just overreacting. Or maybe she’s still grieving her father.”

  And Rem had just taken them at their word. But he should have known better, didn’t he? Yulia never let her emotions cloud her judgment.

  Rem looked at the newspaper clippings on the table once more before looking at Leighton. “I… I didn’t know…” His voice shook. “No one told me! Parliament didn’t tell me anything! They said…” His voice faltered. “They said everything is fine! That things were recovering. That we were rebuilding. That the kingdom is recovering.”

  “They lied to you,” Leighton said flatly. “And people have tried to tell you. I know for a fact that Heiress Nightray did. She tried to tell you. So did Lord Merren. But you didn’t listen.”

  Rem shook his head. “No… That’s not true. Yulia and Gaius… They never said anything like this—”

  Leighton’s voice became sharper. “Did they not say it, or did you just refuse to hear it?”

  Rem opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped. He recalled all the times that Yulia got angry at him. All those times were when she was trying to get him to send aid to the outer provinces. Each one an attempt to get him to act. Each one dismissed.

  But Parliament had deemed those requests as either ‘unnecessary’ or ‘impossible’, and that ‘the capital needs the budget more’, even if it’s something as redundant as road repairs.

  And what did Rem do? He dismissed Yulia. Every single time. All her concerns.

  ‘Is that why Yulia is so angry all the time? Why she avoids me now?’ Rem wondered to himself. He looked at Leighton. “Do…you know?” He almost whispered.

  Leighton sighed. “Everyone outside the Imperial City does,” he admitted, and Ren recoiled like he was slapped. “Why do you think that Heir Carrington and Kaela Merrin were so hostile towards you? Why Heiress Nightray and her friends act the same way? Even our schoolmates and seniors who resided outside the capital? Even some of the first years. Everyone who lived outside the capital knew what was going on.”

  Rem stared at his fists. “No one…told me,” he whispered.

  “Probably because they thought you knew and ignored it,” Leighton said heavily. “To be honest, I thought the same way at first. Until I realised you truly have no idea.” Rem blinked. “But even then, it wasn’t my place to question the Crown Prince, especially as I was from a common background.” His smile was cold. “People have been executed for less, especially during the reign of King Edric.” His gaze shifted to Nathan, who tensed. “It didn’t help that Nathan seems to take it as a personal insult if someone so much as questioned you.”

  Nathan’s shoulders hunched in on himself with Leighton’s words. Guilt was written over his face before he finally looked up, speaking for the first time since they had entered the room. “I didn’t know either until recently,” he whispered. “I wasn’t Heir Hunt. My father and brother… They kept the truth from me for years. And…” He paused, looking at Rem. “Prince Rem… Nightray and Lord Merren… Did they stop trying to get you to listen, because you didn’t listen to them the first dozen times? Or did you just dismiss every single word out of their mouths as too harsh? Too cynical? Or even ‘unnecessary’?”

  Rem didn’t answer.

  “I made mistakes with you,” Nathan admitted, guilt wrecking his frame, his voice hollow. “I told myself I was protecting you, but Nightray was right. I wasn’t letting you grow. Letting you learn. I was harming you.” He bit his lower lip. “I didn’t know anything at all. Or even how bad things were until my brother took me to Ashbrook. We have ten skirmishes in House Hunt territory just this year alone, and we don’t even have territories spanning the borders!” Nathan looked up. “If it’s that bad for us, imagine what it’s like for those with border territories. Entire villages are suffering and starving. Our soldiers were exhausted and on the verge of giving up. The people are angry. The militia don’t have the gear, the weapons, or even the numbers and trust anymore. They think that the Crown has abandoned them.”

  Nathan looked at Rem. “The Ten Great Houses are funding their own recovery efforts out of their private treasuries at this point. Because Parliament conveniently ‘forgot’ about them. Or just didn’t care. And while Parliament officials and capital nobles were arguing over taxes and prices increase, and even about road maintenance of all things… People outside the capital are suffering and starving. The Ten Great Houses have been doing what they could, but they can’t save everyone. And as for the people they’re saving? They are your people, Rem.”

  Silence fell again.

  “I…didn’t know,” Rem whispered. “Parliament said—”

  Nathan sighed, holding up one hand to stop Rem. “That’s my point,” he said tiredly. “I don’t like Nightray. Never did, since we were kids. But whatever happened between us is personal. But even I can’t deny that she cares about you. Her loyalty to you is real. More so than the bunch of vultures that is Parliament, who only tells you what you want to hear. When she gets angry at you, or even when she scolds you? She was trying to help you. Advise you, even. And I… I was too blind to see it. I was convinced she was simply disrespecting you.”

  Nathan dragged a hand through his hair. “Why are you believing the words of politicians, several of them there just to tell you what you want to hear, over your own guardian and advisor?” He wanted to know. Rem recoiled. “You believed that bunch of vultures that only care about themselves over the one person who’s had your back since childhood, and had likely protected you from assassins more times than we’ll ever know. The one person who’s never stopped protecting you. Even now. Protecting you from yourself, if she deems it necessary.”

  Rem bit his lip. “Yulia… And Gaius… They never told me anything like that—”

  “Prince Rem,” Leighton cut in next, his voice sharper than anything Rem had ever heard before. “When was the moment you stopped listening to Heiress Nightray and even Lord Merren? When did you stop taking their advice? Because if Heiress Nightray gave up on trying to get through to you, I don’t blame her. And if she’s taking matters into her own hands now, that’s because you left her with no other choice.”

  “You trusted Parliament too much, Rem,” Nathan added tiredly. “You gave them too much power. I don’t know if you heard, but the soldiers have been complaining. The militia is stretched thin. Half the military branches are about to riot. Even the nobles are pulling away from you, Your Highness.”

  Rem stared at his fingers, realising that he had been so na?ve and so blind for so long.

  “The Crownsguard, for whatever reason, didn’t want to burden you with the truth, but you need to hear this,” Leighton added. “Heiress Nightray is right. To be a king means you need to serve your people and tend to their needs. Even protect them. Make decisions that people might hate you for. As long as your people are safe, happy, and fed, what does it matter? A king is never popular. It’s not a popularity contest. A king serves their people. Heiress Nightray had said it. Even General Thorne had said it.” Leighton looked at Rem. “You need to start being a prince, Rem. Because if you continue ignoring your people, they will not support you.”

  Rem stared at the newspaper clippings again, unable to look at either of them. The papers blurred behind the burn of tears, but no tears fell.

  “I made a terrible mistake,” he whispered. “No wonder Yulia is so angry. Or even why she’s given up on me. What have I done?”

  Nathan spoke again, but his voice was softer this time. “It’s not too late, Your Highness. You can still do something. But you have to make a decision soon.”

  Leighton nodded. “Because it isn’t just the people. The soldiers and even the Ten Great Houses are at the end of their rope. If you continue ignoring them, the people won’t follow you. Even the generals won’t. And neither would the nobles. And if you lose the support of the Ten Great Houses, the rest of them would follow. This is a powder keg waiting to implode.”

  Rem said nothing.

  This time, he had no defence for himself. Only the bitter, late truth.

  And that he’s been so wilfully blind for so long.