TWENTY YEARS AFTER~.
THE FISHERMAN'S HOUSE~
Two men sat on a wooden floor, both facing the other. The younger one, weaved a basket from thin straws, while the older, tended to a net, mending the holes at each ends.
"They say," The younger one spoke up, "A Prince is to be crowned today..."
"And I say, you shouldn't concern yourself with royal matters," The old man said, turning the net over, "We are but commoners who are forgotten, and do you know what the forgotten do?..."
The young man shook his head, "No—"
"They remain forgotten."
"B—"
The old man stood up, "Alex, I really do not want to hear a single word about anything concerning Royal or not, it's not your business. Your business however, is to take the net back to the storeroom, tidy this place, and prepare for dinner. Do you understand?.."
The younger man, Alex, replied by a nod. A simple gesture to tell his father he had understood.
"... And,"
Alex looked up at his father, "And?"
"You should deliver some of those fresh fish before morning time to the Trader by the bridge."
"Okay."
The Old man cleared his throat, "Alex. Do. Not. Cross. The. Bridge—"
"... Into the town without my permission," Alex completed the statement facing his work. He had heard these words tens of thousands of time, and it sounded more like a poem than a warning.
"ALEX!"
The young man's eyes met his father's intense stare, followed by the next words, "I am serious! Do Not! Okay?"
"Yes."
"Good."
With that, the old man walked away, leaving his son to a series of thoughts and mumbling.
"Do not do this, do not do that, wear this eye patch, conceal that crimson eye, make sure the royal guard do not see you, wear that long sleeve jacket, do not cross the bridge, Ahh!," Alex dropped the basket in frustration, "I am TWENTY YEARS OLD for the sake of the gods! I can't make a simple decision on my own!."
He fell on his back, "All my years, I haven't stayed with anyone my age, but old men—grumpy and sly. The women are worse of it all."
He played with the white eye patch on his left eye, "The only thing I can remember when I was five was when I mistakenly sneaked to the town, and met some street children... Oh," He rolled to the side, "Worse experience of my life! Why am I remembering it now?... Devil's Eyes! I heard them scream before they ran away and that's when father quickly rushed to take me back home, and brought up the rule of 'Do not cross the room'... Jeez! Embarrassing memories come at unwanted times."
Alex sat up again, "... Come to think of it! Why don't Father or Mother have a pair of my eyes?" He scratched his chin, "Father's eyes are brown, and mother, Blue!... But, definitely she has black hair so I must have inherited it from her..."
He returned to weaving the basket, "... I must have inherited these eyes from a distant ancestor, Definitely! Because... Father and Mother really did choose an old time to have a child... Probably because they didn't have enough money and could only survive on porridge, fish sauce and bread?.."
Just after the last weave, Alex thought, '... And how can I see my future wife when I'm always in the house? Who do father think I'll marry?... Mother?.'
The forceful creaking of the front door opening, followed by loud stumps, accompanied by a coarse voice, "ALEX! COME HELP ME CARRY THIS!."
Mabel was home.
Alex sprang up from his feets, his mother had arrived, and she always gave him a listening ear.
Getting to the living room, Alex helped the woman dust her shoes, before arranging things for a quick settling down.
Mabel did notice her son's behavior, however, she didn't speak at first, untill seating down for a moment. "What is it?"
"Oh, well, Mother," Alex stood beside her, "They say Williams, Prince Williams," He corrected, "Would be getting coronated and earn the title, Crown Prince."
"Is that so?" Mabel said, pushing a footstool underneath her legs, "And... The other part to why you say these words?"
"Can I be present? Father already said, No, and I—"
Mabel ticked her tongue, "Alex, have I ever wronged you?"
He shook his head, "No? Maybe Probably once or twice, but, No..."
"Good. Because I won't want you going to the coronation."
Alex jaws dropped. This was the first time his mother had the same opinion as the old man. "Mother," He tried convincing her, but the instant his eyes caught a glimpse of his father stepping closer, the matter died immediately.
"Mabel!" The old man greeted his wife with a smile, "I hope the snow didn't disturb you so?"
"No!" The woman replied, turning to Alex, "Slice some vegetables and cut the fish, we are having rice for dinner."
"RICE?" Alex eyes went wide opened, followed by his father as well, who added,
"We only have Rice during important events... What's important now?"
"Well," Mabel stood up, walking into the kitchen, "I achieved quite a lot of coins from sewing a noble's sleeve!.."
Alex and the Old man, quickly rushed to the kitchen, which had the same poor setup as the living room; A stove, a table and a cupboard for the utensils.
Some items were hung on the wall, and Mabel picked a knife from among the set, "Lucky enough for me, I was the only one available for such job and trust me! I pulled out a needle and thread, did the job swiftly and was paid handsomely!" She dipped her hands into the pocket, and pulled out a swollen pouch, which was dropped on the table, "Eleven hundred coins I tell you!."
The Old man launched himself to the pouch, which the woman swiftly picked up, "You Old Poor Jacob! Don't let your sticky hands reach my purse!"
"Oh my darling Mabel! Share some coins with this poor Man!" The Old man, Jacob, said to his wife, but they both paused to a single word Alex said,
"What was a nobleman doing on the poor streets—?"
Mabel quickly reached for the cupboard, "Alex! You will help me with the cooking."
****
It was the last bowl of Rice Mabel had cooked, alongside with a well seasoned fish and of course, the usual Porridge.
The area had a dim light from the burning lamp on the table, where the small family sat together, feasting upon a rare delicacy, Rice, which was quite expensive in comparison to the porridge.
Twenty coins for a single cup of Rice, which quantity had the same measurement of a handful. But, twenty coins could as well, get a bowl of oat, some few cubes of sugar and a small bottle of milk; Enough to full the stomach.
Now, enjoying a tasty meal, was again a rare delicacy. Sometimes, there would be no sugar nor milk for the oat porridge, and it would taste as terrible as fish water. However, half a loaf is better than none. And if there was food on the plate, it was enough to be grateful for.
"Alex," Jacob spoke up, as he chewed slowly, "So, what have you been up to?.."
"Mending nets, fixing the cottage, selling the fish to the trader by the bridge... Wait!" Alex jumped up, "I haven't given those fish to the Trader! And I didn't preserve it with some snow! Jeez! It might get bad! I must give the Trader right away."
He quickly dashed out, before Mabel could get him to complete his meal.
"Alex! Alex!!" Mabel called out, but he had long gone outside. She turned to her husband, "Jacob—"
"He's twenty years old, definitely, he has some common sense, he won't cross the bridge, don't worry yourself, I've warned him," The Old man said, chewing on another spoonful of rice, "And don't forget he is feasting on a rare delicacy? He would be back before you know it."
Mabel took those words as simple as it could sound. She did add some other words, "Maybe I'll him a wife, so that they can both live together in a far away land, probably with my Father! He has a lot of land to lend, and I got a letter from him a month ago, and he wrote about having a house in Silverfort... Probably, Alex and his wife can live there?"
Jacob slowly nodded in approval, "You're correct, we would speak on it as soon as he turns Twenty-one, he mustn't know of his true heritage."