Shadows Of Desire

Obadiah Kinnerik was a man well passed his prime, often looking gaunt and disheveled. His mane of silver hair framed his sunken features, casting a shadow over his face that, along with his hunched back and drooping shoulders, gave the man a rather threatening appearance. His clothing, a fine tunic and slacks hidden beneath a fur trimmed robe, hung loosely and ill-fitting from his skeletal like frame. He walked with a slow gate, limping on his right leg, and seemed to drag himself about, groaning and muttering under his breath about his many ailments.

The overall appearance of the man sent children running in the opposite direction. Despite his frail and labored demeanor, he was a well respected official at the palace and was often deferred to in matters of regulations and punishment. Whether it was his firm hand or his years of experience that made others bow and tremble in his presence Rowan did not know but it was clear that no one, peasant nor noble, was willing to put themselves on his bad side, lest they find themselves on the chopping block.

Rowan couldn’t understand why so many saw Kinnerik as some wicked creature to be feared. If any of them had actually taken the time to get to know the ancient man they would see that behind the silvery locks and withered expression, the man had only kindness in his eyes. Yes, Kinnerik was kind and fair but he was also a just man and though he greatly disliked carrying out the more harsher punishments, preferring to spend his time bent over some massive tome in the library, he was still a stern man and law breakers did have cause to fear him for he was not known to give second chances.

Kinnerik lifted his gaze when he saw Rowan striding across the library to the table that Kinnerik often occupied during the day, then plopped himself down in the chair across from him. Kinnerik raised an eyebrow and smirked as Rowan huffed then crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt of defiance.

“To what do I owe the honor of your visit, young Prince?” Kinnerik rasped, his voice brittle with age.

“The King has sent me to you for punishment.” Rowan grumbled as he slouched down in his chair.

“Ah.” Kinnerik removed his spectacles and placed them gently on the table. “And, what is it that you have done now, prey tell?”

Rowan smirked. “I called Lady Caroline a pretentious old cow with the brains of a mountain troll. She was so angry that she spat on me and so I slapped her.”

Kinnerik leaned forward, resting his arms atop the table as he stared sternly at Rowan. “Not behavior becoming of a Prince.” He stated. There was no judgment in his tone. He was simply stating a fact. Still, the inflection was there. Rowan had acted poorly and he knew it.

“She deserved it.” Rowan said flatly, dropping his gaze to the table top, a hint of shame crossing his young features.

“She may have at that.” Kinnerik agreed. “But what good did it do you to retaliate?”

Rowan sighed, squirming in his seat. “None I suppose. Other than the brief moment of joy I got from seeing the horrified look on her face.” He grinned internally remembering how she’d gasped then stumbled back in shock, flailing her arms and screeching like a banshee as she called for the Palace guards. Rowan knew he’d be in trouble but the gratification he got at seeing the woman humiliated was well worth whatever punishment he’d receive.

“So, you succeeded in humiliating a Lady of a lesser station than your own. The reward, though amusing I’m sure, was short lived as you are now the one who is in trouble, not her. All you have done was sacrifice your own dignity and lower yourself to her level.”

“Was I to just take her insult and do nothing?” Rowan sat up, raising his voice a bit though instantly regretted it when he saw the seriousness in Kinnerik’s eyes.

“Yes, for that is what a true Prince would do. You are young, sheltered, you’ve spent years within these Palace walls so you do not know what the world is like. People are cruel and there will be others who seek to hurt you but you must know when to fight and when to simply walk away. It requires humility and restraint to be the bigger man, but your subjects will respect you more for it in time. No one wants to be be ruled by a tyrant, my young Prince. To truly be a servant of the people is to rule with compassion and understanding.”

Rowan pursed his lips, slouching in his seat again. “I’m an omega, Master Kinnerik. I will never rule.”

Kinnerik smiled reverently. “Maybe not the Kingdom, highness, but an omega will always rule his house.” He picked up his glasses and slipped them back on as he bent over the book he had been reading. “Stables.” He said, not looking up from his text. “An afternoon of hard work will do you good.”

Rowan stood and bowed. “Yes, Master Kinnerik, thank you.”

Kinnerik waved him off as though he could no longer be bothered and Rowan bowed again, then turned and left. Mucking out the King’s stables wasn’t on Rowan’s list of favorite things to do but it was fair and, honestly, it could have been worse. At least he wouldn’t spend the night in the pillory.