Samantha Edwhan

Griffin's Choice

Chapter 3

A month passed after the coronation. Griffin started each day alone in his room. Misti was still unwell. The doctors had moved her to a clinic in the Inner Noble District to prevent the spread of illness. Griffin desperately wished he could hug her and tell her all his troubles.

Instead, he woke to his personal servant, Snowcloud, waking him and dressing him in his cloak and crown. Griffin appreciated her diligence to working silently. He was never much for conversation in the morning, even less so now. The pain and sorrow of losing Gerold hadn’t faded. In fact, it had been particularly hard the day the Everhart family moved out of the castle.

Griffin hadn’t wanted to see anyone that day. But he had a duty to see them off. So, as the servants helped Adelaide carefully move her egg to their new home, Griffin stood outside the castle entrance and politely said goodbye. Their families had been together for so long. With Gerold gone and the Everharts moving to the Inner Noble District, it felt like Griffin was losing part of his own family. He was, in a way, after all.

But that was three weeks ago. Griffin had been going about his duties as best he could since then. It was hard, but, somehow, he was managing. Surprisingly, he found mealtimes the hardest. He sat at the centre of the head table in the Great Hall each morning and stared at his plate. Most days, he managed to eat something, but this was one of the days he struggled to bring himself to touch food at all. The seats immediately either side of him, dedicated to his Caln and a Prinze, were empty. Past that, his son and daughter were sitting in their new seats.

“This is great!” Modesty grinned as she spoke, grabbing yet another cinnamon roll for her plate. “I see why you so often chose to sit up here with the Everharts, instead of with us.”

Griffin glanced at her, trying not to feel any bitterness at how easily she took to the change. “I did not sit up here by choice. I was Prinze. It was my duty to dine with… with the High Caln.” Griffin felt a sorrow deep in his chest as he remembered those days. He pushed past it and continued, “Now it is my duty to dine here as High Caln, and for you, too, as a Duchy.”

Modesty seemed too busy licking the honey-sweet glaze of the roll off her claws. But then she grinned again and said, “I’d love this for the rest of my life.”

As she spoke, she looked out over the room. Griffin followed her gaze, surveying the castle staff as they ate. Most were preparing for their day shifts, but a few had just finished the night shift. Those dragons looked worn down, almost as much as Griffin felt. But his day had barely started. Was he going to feel like this every day for the rest of his life?

There was a jab in his side. Griffin jolted and glanced at Modesty again. She had poked him with her wing and her grin had grown wider.

“You’ll need a Prinze of your own one day,” she said. “Why not save yourself the trouble and name me Prinze now?”

Griffin could almost laugh. Modesty’s joke tickled him slightly. But he had too many other things on his mind to properly enjoy it.

“I will need time to choose a Prinze. But I have five years to decide whom I choose.” Griffin said.

Modesty frowned. “I’m not joking, Father. Gerold chose you right after he became High Caln. You need a Prinze now, too. If you make me your Prinze, you won’t need to worry about the headache of finding a random stranger.”

Griffin sighed. “You know my Prinze cannot be a current Duchy. Duchies can only become High Caln if the present one, their parent, dies without a Prinze to take over.”

“Fine, fine.” Modesty rolled her eyes. “Why choose someone you know and trust? After all, wouldn’t that just be the exact same mistake that Gerold made?”

“Modesty.” Griffin couldn’t keep the growl out of his voice. “Do not desecrate the memory of our previous ruler.”

Modesty eyed him but kept her mouth shut. Griffin returned his gaze to his meal. It looked even less appealing than before. Modesty’s comments had riled him to the point of his feet freezing over. He’d need to take a walk before beginning his daily duties.

Griffin left the Great Hall and headed to the castle gardens. The morning air was cold. It had snowed during the night. Not unusual for late winter, but Griffin was looking forward to no longer sinking into the snow.

As he roamed the gardens, Griffin spotted the small mounds of recently uprooted dirt. That was where Gerold’s and Markos’s Winter Stars used to grow. Markos had moved his to the new Everhart Manor. Gerold’s, though, had died the same day as him. Griffin sighed heavily, feeling the pain of losing his best friend weighing on him even more.

As he stared at the dirt mounds, Griffin remembered his conversation with Modesty. He would need a Prinze eventually. Sure, he had five years to find one, but with Misti still unwell, he would benefit from having an heir in training, lest he and his young perished.