1.2
Cameron Pellyn was not someone who embodied the ideal noble presence. The second-born scion to the royal throne of Ketris would rarely be seen rubbing elbows at fancy galas, or showing his martial prowess on the dueling field. Instead, he spent most of his time in the place he was found this morning; a dive bar in the lowlands, passed out, face adhered to a sticky counter top.
“You really should have called me.” Markus Creel, the royal tender of the second scion said, speaking to the bartender. He had a gruff, no nonsense timbre in his voice. Proper enough in his tempo and pronunciation to be among the highborn, yet still possessing the slight accent of the lowland working class. He was tanned and tall, with a muscular frame that tried to hide itself under his expensive suit. Likewise, his dark hair was slicked and combed in a dignified style, his beard, neatly trimmed, trying and failing to cover a scar that ran down the side of his square jaw.
“You know I would have Markus” The bartender said, still wiping down the counter from the night before. “But he gave specific instructions not to call you.”
Markus ground his teeth in frustration, speaking in a snarl “Of course he did.”
He sighed, taking a seat at the bar, holding his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair, resisting the urge to tear it out of his head. “This kid is going to be the death of me.”
“Look on the bright side,” John said, handing Marcus a bucket of water, “Least this part is always fun.” A soft smirk formed at the edges of Marcus’s mouth. “You’re absolutely right my friend.”
Without another word, Marcus walked his way up to Cameron’s unconscious form. “Rise and shine Master Pellyn.” He said as the bucket tipped and ice cold water ran down the young man’s back.
Cameron woke with a start, looking around wide eyed, trying to get his bearings. When his eyes found those of Marcus, he relaxed, a smirk forming on his face as he stood, holding his arms out wide.
“Alright, ya got me.”
“Indeed, I do Master Pellyn.” Marcus said, his frustration hidden behind a mask of professionalism.
“You know I gotta say,” Cameron began, “This isn’t the most ideal way to wake up after a night of heavy drinking, but it’s certainly not the worst. Remember Conroy’s Selection Party?”
“Is this the time you set the guest house on fire? Or the time you slept with his sister?” Marcus asked, a weary sigh hanging in his throat.
“That’s a trick question and you know it. That was the same party.”
“How could I possibly forget? You seem lucid enough.” Marcus said, tossing him a rag and a blue tunic lined with silver. “Clean yourself up and join me in the carriage. We have an appointment to keep.”
“Oh? What appointment would that be?” Cameron asked as he stripped off his grime covered shirt and scrubbed himself quickly in the sink behind the bar. John, the barkeep would have been offended, if he hadn’t gone through enough mornings like the one currently happening in front of him. Instead, he shook his head and reached for a worn out pipe, lighting it and filling the hazy room with another thin layer of smoke.
“Your father of course.” Marcus replied, “ This is the week of Lady Miranda’s coronation, which means it’s also the week of your ascension to Seneschal.”
Cameron stopped, his brow furrowing. He opened his mouth to speak before Marcus cut him off.
“I think it would be best for us to discuss this in the carriage Master Pellyn. No sense in dragging John into the goings on of the royal house.”
“Oh, don’t mind me.” John said, looking between the two men in front of him. “I love drama. Especially when it comes to the rich and powerful. Or just rich in Cam’s case.”
“Hey!” Cameron complained, pulling his tunic on. “I’m a prince of the royal family. Show a little respect at least.”
John blinked, then spoke, unperturbed. “Last night I saw you fish a coin out of a patron’s belly button using nothing but your tongue.”
Cameron blinked. “Was she cute at least?”
“I think HE would rather be called handsome. And, no he wasn’t. He was at least fifty and his stomach looked like a shaved bear.”
“Did I at least get the coin?”
“You did not.”
“… Okay fair point.” Cameron responded as he made his way to the door. He stretched in a broad, exaggerated motion, before grabbing one of the bottles left on the table from the night before, and draining it of its contents. In one smooth motion he tossed the bottle in the trash before letting out a satisfied sigh and smiling at his servant.
“Ready when you are.”
Chapter 2
The planet Ketris was one of a tropical paradise. Large islands dotted its surface, not quite large enough to form continents. Instead, these islands would chain into their own distinct city-states, using a gravity rail system for transport from one chain to another. Cameron found himself on one such rail system, a private line for those of the noble houses to give direct transport to the capital of the planet that shared its name. He was looking out the window, watching the islands fly by at a blistering speed as Marcus spoke.
“Ever since the colonies came from the mother planet,” he began. “We have had a noble house. At first it was just one, your family Master Pellyn. But over the generations, we have grown into many, scattered across the planet. Now, we have fifty houses, whose scions pilot the very A.R.M.S units that protect our home from all dangers that would dare touch our soil. Just as the planet needs a ruler, an army needs a Seneschal, a general to stand in the front and hold the mighty shield of Ketris, should duty call for it.”
Cameron looked at him exasperated. “I know the tradition Marcus. I don’t need a history lesson. What I need is an answer as to why dad has his heart set on sending me.”
Marcus shrugged and gave and gave a look. “It’s how it's always been, Master Pellyn. The firstborn reigns, in this case Lady Miranda. The second born is the shield.”
Cameron gave a derisive chuckle. “I have three brothers.” He said. “Surely he can find a more qualified candidate from those guys.”
The Pellyn family was small by noble standards. With five children, one girl and four boys, they were often outnumbered by their distant cousins, who’s numbers could get as high as twenty to a single family. Miranda was the oldest, groomed from the very beginning to take on her father’s mantle. After her, Cameron came a few years down the line, followed by the triplets, Ian, Liam, and Dean. Those three were the more stereotypical prince type, chasing glory and skirts in equal measure. Cameron was just happy to settle for the latter.
“Ian is the muscle head.” Cameron said. “Liam too. He won the tournament last spring. Hell, Dean’s at least down to have a bar fight every once in a while.”
“But none of them are you Master Pellyn.” Marcus said, speaking in a soft and comforting tone.
“For all your frustration and anger at being chosen, I’m sure the young masters are in turn frustrated about not being chosen.”
Cameron considered this a moment before deciding not to speak, instead focusing on the ocean waves as they passed. After a moment, a soft ding echoed its way through the train car. They were arriving at their destination.
The planetary capital was a place of opulent symmetry. Thick alabaster stone slabs formed the walkways, with a thick line of blue crystal running the length of the middle. The capital was man made, an artificial island in a perfect circle, roughly 100 miles in diameter. The buildings were built low, showing off the island's foliage, with large palm trees dotting the landscape in predetermined locations. In the distant center, the royal palace stood proudly, its blue crystal dome reflecting off the sunlight, flanked on either side by two large alabaster turrets. Drop offs and pickups from the rail line were spaced out at even intervals, connecting the rest of the world to the royal gate. Just because they were connected, did not mean there would be free passage. As the city and palace itself were intertwined, one would need to either already live there, or have good reason to come knocking.
Cameron stepped off the rail car, spreading his arms wide as a local peacekeeper checked him. Even royals had to abide by the law of the land, though Cameron doubted anyone would think about doing anything shady, as the Royal Guard would have them splattered on the pavement before such harm could come to fruition. The guards themselves were all pilots, their Squire units standing stalwart throughout the capital and its perimeter. Their metallic shells gleamed in the sun, a beacon of protection for the general populace and a permanent reminder of the brave men and women who had sat in those cockpits from years past. Their hulking masses of steel and hydraulics were draped in cloaks of thick weaved fabric, and painted in tandem with the rest of the place to reflect the royal coloration. Every guard could wield a sword and shield, as such, the suits themselves reflected this. Large slabs of metal, the width of a table hung limply at the sides of the units, sheathed in ornate wrapping. A similar large buckler was bolted onto the opposite arm. Such was the preferred fighting style of the Ketrisites, "The sword and board", as the soldiers called it. A dependable combination of both attack and defense.
“Apologies for the intrusion, Lord Pellyn” The peacekeeper said. Cameron could see the man was nervous. He had no rank or insignia on his lapel, showing how new he was.
“No need for apologies.” Cameron said, straightening his tunic as he locked eyes with the man. “If you wouldn’t apologize to the peasant, then you shouldn’t to the prince.” The man looked slightly off balance, struggling to find his words. Cameron gave him a smile as he walked up the stairs heading deeper into the city.
The citizens of the capital were used to being star-struck. With such a small community, appearances of minor nobility all the way up to the royal scions were a near daily occurrence. Cameron himself had been such a regular customer of the various shops, restaurants, and entertainment venues, so much so, that the local population hardly paid him a second look. So when he heard a hush fall over the crowded masses, followed by a soft whispering, and complete gridlock, he knew it wasn’t because of him. Turning in the direction that everyone was looking towards, a smile crossed his face.
Before him, a beautiful young woman stood, looking around the populace with a soft caring gaze. Her hair was black as night and cut short, barely making it past the length of her baby face. Her eyes, a soft, sky blue sparkled in the light of the day. Her smile, a small yet unmistakable lift, was further enamored by a dimple on her right cheek. She was wearing a flowing dress of an iridescent violet that shimmered in the sunlight as she walked, contrasting nicely to her pale white skin. She spoke softly to the random citizens while flanked on her left, right, and back by three near identical men. Though they shared the same face, there were some variations, the one to her right scanned the crowed with a blank dutiful look. A chinstrap beard was cut neat, the same color as the woman’s hair. The man on the left was shaved bald, mirroring his counterpart in looking out, searching for threats. The man in the back had broken the uniform look, shifting his balance back and forth in impatience, constantly trying and failing to keep a mop of black hair out of his eyes, the bulk of it hidden beneath a watch cap. Cameron's siblings were making an appearance.
He quickly made his way through the crowd. Though not held in the same reverence as the rest of his family, people knew enough not to impede his path. Miranda’s smile grew wider as she saw him, walking to meet him in the middle and clasping him in a hug.
“What’s up Mirry Moo?” Cameron asked, picking up and squeezing his sister in a rather undignified bear hug. He sat her down and laughed as she gave him a look of consternation.
“Really, Cam?” She asked with a false irritation, the smile she struggled to keep hidden flashing on her face. “Can you at least try to be professional in front of everyone?”
“What are you talking about?” Cameron said, feigning mock offense, clutching at imaginary pearls. “I am the pinnacle of professionalism.”
She cocked an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. “Let’s look at father shall we? The great Augustus Pellyn, now crowning his successor, Lady Mirry Moo Pellyn. Doesn’t exactly have the same regal ring does it?”
Cameron’s smile sank a bit at the mention of his father. “I need to have a word with him. Twenty-two years of being the exact opposite of what a Seneschal embodies should have given the hint that this isn’t me.”
As he was complaining, his brothers approached, the crowds slowly dispersing as the scene of discussion was turning to topics that weren't their business.
“Is it rude to agree with you?” The one with the chinstrap asked. “I mean no offense brother, but… well maybe a little offense.”
“Ian,” Miranda admonished, slapping his shoulder.
“What?!” He exclaimed. “I’m agreeing with him.”
“I think agreeing with him, and being a dick about it aren’t the same thing baby brother.” Liam, the bald one said looking over at his twin. Ian rolled his eyes at the baby brother comment. “We’re three seconds apart.” He said, giving his brother a glare, who gave a smirk in return. “And don’t you forget it.”
Cameron smiled at the sight of his siblings dropping pretenses and behaving like the bickering kids they were. “No, Ian you’re absolutely right. I’d pass the duty off to one of you in a heartbeat if I could. Even Dean.” he said, nodding to the boy in the back.
Dean shook his head on hearing his name. “Don’t look at me man, that’s for these two up here. I’d rather follow in your footsteps than theirs. Seems a lot more fun.”
Miranda gave the youngest the same look of frustration she gave Ian. “You will most certainly not!” She said in exasperation. “Cam gets away with it cause he was always like this, I’ll send you off to the guard before I let you be a womanizing drunk.”
“Hey now,” Cameron said with a smile. “Brilliant, hilarious, and exceedingly suave womanizing drunk. Get it right. Besides, someone here needs to be the life of the party. A position I perform with distinction.”
She rolled her eyes and looked at him; her smile falling a bit. “You know what he’ll say Cam. It’s the same answer he’s always given.”
“Your duty outweighs your preference.” The five said in unison.
“If I could change things I would.” She continued, “But I’m just as powerless as you. My word holds no weight until I’m crowned. But I’d urge against it. The ambassadors are here and Father’s in an even fouler mood than usual.”
Cameron’s shoulders slumped a bit as he hung his head, standing in dejected silence. Miranda placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him.
“I’m sorry baby brother.” She said softly. “I hate seeing you so down. You are the spot of levity in a world of protocol and tradition. However,” She raised his head with her hand and smiled at him. “Though I can’t promise that I can save you from your task. I can promise that together, we can make this world the pinnacle of the Pirou system. What do you say?”
Cameron smiled softly and nodded. “Whatever you say sis.”
She smiled again and flicked his forehead with her finger before stepping back. “Now,” she began. “Father’s waiting for you. As well as the dignitaries. I think it best not to keep him waiting.”
Cameron’s smile dropped a little before she continued. “Don’t give me that look. I know you hate the political part of the job but it’s not all bad. I think you may even get along well with one of them.” She gave him a wink and his eyebrow cocked as the triplets chuckled.
“What do you mean?” He said, narrowing his eyes at his siblings.
She shrugged, giving a smirk. “Ask me no questions and I shall tell you no lies. Marcus, would you be so kind as to escort my dear brother home for his appointment?” She turned to Marcus, who had been silent through the whole exchange, standing rigid like a soldier with his arms behind his back. Upon hearing the order, he gave a low bow and spoke in reverence.
“It would be an honor Lady Miranda, my deepest apologies for our tardiness already.”
She smiled and held up her hand. “No need for apologies Marcus, I’m sure whatever delay was the result of my brother’s reluctance. That will be our father’s assumption as well, so make haste, but please do the introductions with quality.”
“Of course my lady. I live to serve.” He said giving another short bow, Cameron walking past and giving his aid a quick slap on the back.
“Come on, kiss ass. Let’s get this over with.”