Hidden Mage Prince: The First Season

I’m going to murder my brother.

Figuratively. Probably.

I whimper as I trudge along the King’s Road, half-dressed with only a sword to my name, questioning the life choices that led me to this moment.

I’m blaming it on Feoras. He may be my older brother and a future king, but I don’t care. I’m still going to murder him.

I stop in the middle of the dirt road. I can’t murder him. Then I’d be the heir, and I’m not cut out to be a king.

Perhaps I’ll settle for maiming him in some fashion.

Mother would frown on that. Not that she’d approve of me murdering him. Figuratively. Probably.

Regardless, he’s comfortable back home in Odesta while I’m roasting in this hellish place that doesn’t even have the decency to pave its roads. If I turn my ankle in these ruts one more time, I’m calling it quits. I’ll just lie on the road and wait for the end to come.

I had a good run. I thought it would last longer than twenty-two years, but at least I have three brothers to carry on the family line.

Plus Nell. She’s only twelve, though. I hope she doesn’t cry too much over my loss. She has three other brothers. She’ll barely notice I’m gone. Besides, she likes Orion the best. We all know it.

Everyone likes Orion.

I blink a few times and wipe the sweat from my eyes, cursing under my breath. Why is it so hot? It’s almost autumn. It shouldn’t be this hot.

That was my first mistake. Taking off my surcoat to cool down.

Well, not my first one. The first one was trusting Feoras when he recommended that horse. Pegasus. I should have known the horse would fly away with a name like that. I turned my back for one minute, and he was gone. He’s probably halfway back to the castle on Lake Santoren now.

I miss lakes.

With a sigh, I take another step and trip on a rut in the road as I stumble to the dirt.

This is it. This is where it ends. My vial of cyrilium is empty, so I can’t even use my magic to send a message telling my mother goodbye. No cyrilium powder? No magic. That’s how it works, unfortunately. I might as well not be a mage without it.

If only I could snap my fingers and make something happen. I’m not sure what. My throat feels like it’s full of cotton. Water would be nice. Not even Feoras can conjure water out of thin air, though. At least, I don’t think he can. And he inherited Mother’s powerful magic. I’m just a normal mage. Nothing special.

Well, I have skills, but they pale in comparison to his powers. And Nell’s. Even my baby sister can outdo me.

Not that it matters now. I’m going to die of thirst on the King’s Road in this primitive kingdom that sounded a lot more fun to visit than it actually is.

If there were a next time, which there won’t be because I’m not getting up again, I wouldn’t be an idiot and tie all my coins and extra cyrilium vials to my saddle. Not with a horse named Pegasus. And I definitely wouldn’t stuff my surcoat in the saddlebag. Furthermore, I would learn to tie a better knot so the fool horse wouldn’t wander off while I was in the woods relieving myself.

Actually, I’d probably just stay in Odesta. Not come up with some harebrained scheme to see the world on my own. I pull a dark-brown curl down to stare at it, willing it to return to my natural blond.

It doesn’t.

Mother’s words echo in my head. I won’t let you go alone unless you let me disguise you.

I’m sure my blue eyes are still brown, too. Mother enchanted both my hair and my eyes before I left the castle in Santoren. If I even manage to reach the border on foot, will anyone believe I’m Prince Seronos of Odesta? My signet was in my coin pouch.

Not that I’m going anywhere now.

I drop my arm and whimper as the sun beats down on me.

Pathetic. That’s what I am. It probably takes a long time to die of thirst. And no one goes fast enough over these ruts to run me over without noticing me first.

I’m probably just getting a sunburn.

With a groan, I push myself to my feet. Perhaps I’ll walk in the grass at the side of the road.

There’s got to be a river or a stream near here. My map was on the horse, too, unfortunately. I do my best to recall what was on the map as I take in my surroundings. It all looks the same. Dirt road surrounded on either side by trees as far as I can see.

For a moment, I consider climbing a tree to get a better view, but with the way my day is going, I’d probably plummet to my death. The thought is more unappealing than expected, given my thoughts as I lay on the road a few minutes ago.

As it turns out, I do not, in fact, want to die here.

I swallow as I look around some more. I wish I’d been carrying my waterskin rather than my sword.

Anything would have been better than this broadsword I don’t even know how to use. I picked it up from the smith in Gobel to complete my ensemble right after I crossed the border from Odesta into Alinar. I wanted to look like a native Alinarian. Not like a mage prince from Odesta.

They don’t teach Princes of Odesta how to wield broadswords. Why would they? We have magic.

Well, I’d have magic if not for that fool horse.

I think the river was south of the road. We’ll go with that.

I traipse into the woods, and the shade is a welcome reprieve from the heat. Even more welcome is the sound of flowing water I hear after wandering aimlessly for at least a week.

Or an hour.

It’s hard to say.

When I stumble past the trees onto a riverbank, I don’t even hesitate, crouching down to gulp up the crystal clear water.

“What are you doing?” a female voice suddenly cries. “Go away!”

A woman. She huddles in the water up to her chin, and she is even less clothed than I am.

The sight of her, along with the sound of her screeching, startles me so much that I jump, hitting my head on a low branch hanging over the water. My weak ankle betrays me, and the river rushes closer as I careen toward it, flailing for something solid to grab.

There is nothing.

As I crash into the water, a rock attacks me, and pain slices my forehead while water shoots up my nose.

I was wrong earlier.

This is it. This is how it ends.

And then my world goes dark.