Vel-Farnikk, capital of the mighty Granvayl Kingdom is a massive city. It is home to at least 4000 citizens, not including the children, immigrants and slaves. Some speculate that there would be many thousands more, if any census included children, immigrants, slaves and criminals. Crown or Tiara Chapter 2 By Shinieris

Vel-Farnikk, capital of the mighty Granvayl Kingdom is a massive city. It is home to at least 4000 citizens, not including the children, immigrants and slaves. Some speculate that there would be many thousands more, if any census included children, immigrants, slaves and criminals.

Far to the front of the Imperial Palace, stood the House of Banners. It was named so for the many banners that decorated the walls of the palace, both inside and outside. Each banner represents a noble house, whose representatives live there. It was made the residence of the royal princes, male courtesans and government officials, including the knights in charge of protecting the palace and the royal family since the day it was finished. The House of Banners is significantly larger than each of the palaces, with the exception of the Imperial Palace. The House of Banners doesn't have any towers, but it does have a large communal area and a small library, which doubles as a reading room. At the moment the House of Banners is home to the 3rd prince, His Royal Highness, Royal Prince Fridrich Hamdall. They say that he's antisocial and would only come out from his room during official events.

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The man wearing a black vest and had his black hair in a ponytail called for another tankard of Farnician Ale for the old man the moment he finished. He had a pleasant face and a winning smile, his body was lean and handsome and he knew how the girls loved him.

"Wow, you know a lot, grandpa," he said as the ale arrived and shoved it across the table to the old man's waiting hands.

"Would make a good story for your book, eh?" the old man said as he started draining the tankard into his throat.

"But how would you know so much about the royal family, grandpa?" the man asked.

"Mr. Seo, I had worked as a guard in the royal palace for 40 years. You don't work that long and not pick up certain secrets."

Mr. Seo leaned forward and whispered, "So the story just now was supposed to be a secret, grandpa?"

The old man guffawed loudly, drawing gazes from the other tables. He spoke loudly, unlike Seo, "Hell no! Those are common knowledge. Everyone knows about it if they bothered to read. Ah, except for the story about the favored princess, of course."

"What about the favored princess?" Seo asked, curious.

The old man took another gulp from the tankard, before he said, "One more!"

"Excuse me?" Seo countered wide-eyed.

"This!" the old man waved the tankard, "You can't expect me to tell you a secret without payment and another tankard of fine Farnician Ale."

Seo groaned inside at the old man's request. He had already bought the old man many tankards of the same ale. Personally, he was afraid that the old man would drop dead if he gave him anymore. Regardless, Seo waved the waitress for another tankard of Farnician Ale, and reached into his pouch.

"Would one sovereign be good, grandpa?" Seo said drawing a gold coin and put in in front of him on the table.

The old man eyed the coin, swallowed his spit and moved to take the coin. Seo covered the coin with his own hand and said, "First you tell me the secret, then you get the coin, grandpa."

The old man snorted gruffly, leaned forward and whispered, "Story goes that the favored princess doesn't exist. Don't know why they said so, I saw her plenty of time, ever since she was a child. I once took her home after she got lost in the garden in front of the palace."

"Doesn't exist? How can that be?" Seo wondered aloud.

The old man answered, the alcohol starting to affect his speech, "Prob'ly cuz she ne'er ventur'd out o' ta palace. Be'en too prote'ted, tha' un." Then his face dropped onto the table as he passed out from the alcohol.

Seo rubbed his face at the display. He then got up and discretely placed a gold coin into the old man's pocket. He then went to the waitress to cancel the order for a tankard of Farnician Ale and left the tavern. He had already discovered so much information.

"Doesn't exist, huh?" he said to himself as he walked away.

-----

Prince Altherion scratched his head. He was looking at the royal accounts, one of a list of hobbies he was trying to pick up. At this moment, he was totally baffled by the palace expenses.

Dinner for 50 sovereigns? he scratched his head again, What could cost so much, when commoners can survive with 5 commons a day?

In Granvayl, a piece of gold sovereign equals to 12 silver nobles. 1 silver noble equals to 20 copper common. A loaf of plain bread in the capital costs 6 coppers at most. In the slums. it can cost as low as 1 copper common, depending on the size of the loaf. So 50 sovereigns equals to 12,000 commons or 2400 loaves of bread.

Prince Altherion looked up when he heard knocks on the door. He closed the ledger and pushed it aside, making the center of his desk clear again.

"Come in," he said loudly.

The door opened and in came a distinguished-looking man in his 20s. He stood at almost 6 feet tall and has a proud air about him. He stopped 5 feet away from the prince's desk and bowed with his right arm crossed on his chest. From the designs of his crest, he appeared to be a noble of the Valtiste family. The Valtiste family are the barons that are in charge of the Barony of Filcimont, a fertile land in the east, commonly known for being the place where one can find any herb that they'd want. For that reason alone, sale of herbs from Filcimont was the barony's biggest business.

According to Granvayl law, a barony cannot be inherited, except by another baron. So successors of each Valtiste generation often had to make an effort to impress the kings so that they'd get to keep their family land. This man was among the most ambitious and capable of the current generation of the Valtiste family, and the family believed that he would be the one that has the best chance of becoming a baron.

"Is something the matter, Sir Reyn?" the prince asked.

"Your Highness, Favoured Prince, your sister skipped her classes again just now. Lady Maribell, her dancing tutor has already given me her resignation letter," the proud looking Sir Reyn said, his face cold and unreadable.

"Again?" the Favored Prince, Prince Altherion threw his hands in the air. "That's six since the Queen Mother fell ill. Just find a new one. It can't be that hard to find a good tutor."

"She had the best tutors, Your Highness, but she didn't seem to want to learn. Rumor has it that even the most motivated tutors would be depressed after a few hours with her," Sir Reyn answered.

"It can't be that bad. She can't be that bad," the prince countered.

"I have talked with Lady Maribell. I asked her that she be patient for a while longer, but she said she'd only stay until we can find someone else. She made it pretty clear that she expected this 'someone' to be found quickly. On another related news, I've found a replacement for Sir Etroch, he is on his way here as we speak."

"Good, just give Lady Maribell a raise," the prince said as he turned around to look at the garden below, "I'll approve of higher wages for her tutors. Just... settle this before my brother arrives."

"It shall be done, Your Highness,"

-----

The girl woke up when she heard someone calling her name. She had fallen asleep crying for her mother, her face bruised from contact with the queen's bedsheet. She looked out the window and saw that it was already dark outside. Even the room she was in was dark and she was finding it hard to see her own hands.

"Your Highness, Princess Feska, may your servant come in?" came a couple more knocks.

"Yes, yes," the princess answered weakly, "Just open the door."

She heard the creak of the door and the sudden gasp of the queen's handmaiden," Elanara's grace! What are you doing in the dark, Your Highness?"

Princess Feska dropped her head back into her crossed arms on the bed, ignoring the maid. She just wanted to sleep, wake up from this nightmare. A nightmare where her father was dead and her mother was in a deep sleep.

The maid fussed about behind her, lighting oil lamps and climbing stools so she could open the light shutters. As the shutters opened, light shone out of them, like the focused light from a lighthouse. As the light shone onto a lumination crystal, it glowed, spreading its light all around, hitting other lumination crystals which glowed in turn. In the speed of light, the whole bedchamber turned bright with oil lamps being the odd yellow light.

"Princess," the maid spoke softly, "You should go back to your own tower. You need to wake up early tomorrow."

Princess Feska ignored the maid and continued feigning sleep. That was until the maid covered her back with the queen's spare blanket. "You shouldn't fall sick tomorrow, Princess."

Princess Feska turn around so suddenly it would have startled the maid, if she didn't know that the princess was faking sleep. "Lady Frenia, what going to happen tomorrow? What's so important?"

"Oh, nobody has told you yet, Your Highness?"

"Told me what?"

"About your brother?"

"What? Therion built a city overnight and tomorrow is the day of rejoicing his greatness?"

The maid looked like she was about to laugh, she was already covering the laugh with a smile. "I suppose not then," she said once she managed to fight the urge to laugh, "Anyway, a messenger arrived this morning, bringing news that your brother, the crown prince, had arrived at the nearby town of Lenar. He was expected to arrive at the gates of the capital tomorrow at noon.

"Mikhal is coming home? But why now? Why didn't he return before my father died on the battlefield? Why didn't he return after that? Tell me this, Lady Frenia!"

"I don't know, Your Highness. Perhaps it's something you should ask the crown prince yourself."

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