Chapter one: Parts once so familiar

Everything seemed strange, unfamiliar, like he was a guest in his own house. The castle had obviously been fixed and overhauled for his return. He had had a chance to see the rest of the village and the ruins that it lay in. His father's old advisor was also gone, replaced by some woman that he could not remember the name of. Even the servant was unknown - a young lad that couldn't be out of his teens. He should have expected that part though, seeing as he had already  known of Soliel's mother's death, so of course a new servant would  have to be hired. For some  reason though, all throughought the years of battle he had  dreamed of the home and Danue' he had remembered. Now he realized that the memeory was just a fantasy.

Slowly he walked through the great woods. So many times he had snuck out despite his mother's worries nanny's protests. The forrest had always promised such freedom and excitment. Now though, he stood among the brambles and trees and looked at the kingdom walls, once so huge and fortifying, now laying crumbled  and neglected.

There was so much that needed to be done, so much work to bring the kingdom back to security. He was tired, battle worn and did not feel up to such a great responsibility. But there was no choice. He had spent the last week in quiet solitude, avoiding dignitaries, avoiding the new advisor, avoiding even the old misinthrope Taran. Now he  must stand up and rule, and  fill his subjects with confidence in  the future.  He  just wished he could find the confidence himself. He turned and slowly walked back towards the castle....

....When he stepped in he was greeted by the clashing sound of revelery music and laughter. "What is this!" He snapped in irritation. The music reminded  him of the bugels blown before battle. The revelry instanty quieted. Soliel  stepped out of the crowd. "Bronte...I...I am sorry if we surprised you. I just...I wanted  to welcome you home properly."

Bronte stared into the beautiful young woman that young Soliel had grown into. "Soliel, I am  sorrry... I am just tired and short tempered these days.  Please, dance, sing, enjoy your freedom and victory." He truned quickly and  retreated further into the castle, to his bedroom upstairs, the one room he had managed to find peace in it's unchanged familiarity.

Downstairs, Soliel stood, her lute dangling in her hand. Normally Bronte would  have joined the reverly. Taran was nearby and saw the hurt look on the young girls face. "I did warn you that he may not be your Child playmate anymore, did I not?"

Soliel turned quickly and rushed out of the castle, fleeing before Taran could see the tears starting.

Upstairs in his bedroom, Bronte was suddenly disturbed by a flurry of people. His new advisor was holding papers, flurishing them, "Bronte, Bronte - I - I mean *Lord* Bronte-"

"Title's mean nothing.What is it?"

"There is an edict that must be passed, and the villagers  have been without proper laws for so long, and-"

"Yes, yes I get the point.  I need to rule the kingdom. There are duties to attend to. You have been  telling me  the same thing everyday. Very well. But first, I have something important to write."

He sat down  at this desk. His advisor - he thought her name was Alercy or something like that - stood nearby.  Just then the young servant also came in.

"What is it!" Bronte snapped, "Can I not get a moments peace! I have just come from a battle lasting five years to win our freedom.Can I not have a moment to write an apology to a dear friend?"

The Advisor - he was sure her name was Alercy and such a strange name - instantly dropped to her knees. "I apologize!" Looking confused, the servant - now what was *his*name - did so as well.

 

Bronte sighed in exasperation. "Oh stand up. I will be on full duty tomorrow."

"Yes my Lord." Alercy quickly stood and  fled. The boy stood, looking confused as to where  he should go.

"What is it?" Bronte asked  him, trying to be gentle, "What did you come to get me for young man?" 

"I - I just wanted to announce that dinner was served."

"I will be down in a moment. Thankyou."

"Yes my  Lord." He began to scurry out, tripping on his own feet.

"Wait," Bronte called  to him.

"Ye -- yes?" he stammered

"What is your name? And how have you come to be a servant here?"

"My name is Brad. I - I do not know my father's name. The elder miss Savoire hired me on and trained me when she knew she was ill. My mother, you see, she took ill and I had no faher..."

"I understand," Bronte said, trying to  keep his voice soft, "There are no worries son. You will  be treated well here. Tell the rest of the castle they may begin the meal without me. I have someone I must write to first."

"Yes my lord-"

"Brad?"

"Yes?"

"Just call me Bronte."

The young lad stared, then just nodded and left. There would  be so much to adjust to, for him and also for his servants and subjects. No longer was he the free heir left to run wild throughout the kingdom. He now had to pay the part of responsible ruler sitting with boredom on the throne for hours on end and dealing with boring ambassador talk with his only two allied nations. But those worries would wait. At the moment he had a more pressing matter.

He sat down at his desk to write to his dearest friend, the one he considered his little sister in every manner. The one who had the kindess to arrange a welcome party for him, that he hadn't even bothered to greet properly.

"My  dearest Soliel..."