One day Pan was sitting on the ledge of a window that looked out over the palace gardens. A gentle breeze was blowing, carrying the fragrant scent of exotic flowers. The breeze caressed his naked flesh, cooling him and lulling him into such a sense of peace that he was temporarily transported back to his childhood. To the Great Forest that bordered his family’s farm on two sides.
He could almost feel the damp moss beneath his bare feet; feel its soft, squelchy texture cushioning the soles of his feet as he leisurely made his way through the trees. He smiled as he remembered those rare times when he was able to take time out from working in the fields to explore the wonders of the Great Forest. Sometimes he would wander for an hour or two, exploring some part of the forest he had never visited before. After a while, he’d sit down at the base of a tree whose trunk was as wide as the spread of his arms and close his eyes, enjoying the gentle sunlight, filtering down through the canopy to kiss his already heavily sun-kissed face. In those private moments he would dream of faraway places and the people who lived there. In a quiet voice he’d ask the gods whether he’d ever leave the family farm and explore other parts of Tansa, parts he’d only heard about from travellers.
His smile became a grin as the fantasy dissolved and he surveyed the lavish gardens of the royal palace. Even in his wildest dreams he could never have imagined his life at the palace, with King Seronisis. Twenty-one years after first being escorted into the royal compound by the king’s Hapsid troopers, he was still not completely sure that his privileged life wasn’t all a magnificent dream.
His next thoughts were of a conversation he’d had with King Seronisis not two days earlier. It had been mid-morning and they had just finished a late breakfast on the balcony of their bedroom. The king was leaning on the balustrade, looking into the thicket of trees that hid their bedroom from the outside world, while Pan reclined on a chaise beneath the fronds of a potted palm.
“Pan, you’ve been a faithful and loving partner,” the king had said. “No-one could have asked for more from a lover and friend. Yet I’ve been selfish, keeping you here where you’ve been no less a prisoner than you would have been had you spent the same number of years on your family’s farm.”
Pan opened his mouth to protest.
“No!” said Seronisis, silencing him with a raised finger. “Let me finish for there is much I have to say.” He paused, glancing down at the marbled floor as if to collect his thoughts. “I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting lately, about you and me, about our life together and about the kingdom. You are in your fortieth year and I, well, I’m fast approaching an age where I’ll be too old for the stresses and pressures of running a kingdom.”
Pan disagreed, but held his tongue. He knew very well that King Seronisis loved being monarch, almost as much as he loved Pan. And for a man in his mid-sixties, he was still more physically fit than a lot of men half his age; still as handsome and youthful as he had been the day Pan had first laid eyes on him. In fact, time had barely touched the king. Certainly his once coal black hair had become a sophisticated grey, but the only lines on his face were so faint they could only be seen at very close proximity.
“It’s time to choose a successor, and once I have chosen him, I plan to take you away to see the world.”
Pan hardly knew what to think. “Abdicate? When you still have so much to offer your people?”
Seronisis leaned down and kissed Pan tenderly on the lips. “Not abdicate, my darling. I’d just like to choose my successor while I’m still around to assess his suitability. While we’re away, he can run the kingdom, as my stand-in, and upon our return I shall see what kind of job he’s done. Then, when my time comes, when I’m taken up to join the gods, I can do so knowing I’ve left my people in the best possible hands.”
“But who will succeed you?” asked Pan, sitting up. “You have no children and your brother is already with the gods.”
“My father’s younger brother has two sons, both in their thirties. Being of royal blood they are my only real choice, yet only one can rule.”
The king walked around the breakfast table and returned to the edge of the balcony.
