Page 42 of The False Prince (Ascendance 1)

“I wish you’d have made it. And if you have the chance to run sometime in the next two weeks, I think you should take it.”

“Good to know, Roden.” He’d like things to be that easy.

“Why don’t you two talk a little louder and maybe you can wake the entire estate?” Tobias said with a groan.

“Hush,” I said. “Soon as they know we’re awake, we’ll get people in here.”

Tobias sat up on one arm. “You and Roden have been chatting like old friends all this time and now you tell me to hush?”

“Hush,” Roden said.

Tobias lay back down. “I wonder what Conner has planned for us today.”

“We have two weeks to learn everything Prince Jaron would know,” Roden said. “I think this might be the last moment of quiet we’ll have until then.”

“It’s really not a bad plan,” Tobias said. “Conner’s right. This might be the only way to save Carthya.”

“It’s an insult to the real prince,” I said. “When this is discovered — and we all know that one day it will be — what we are doing here will be worse than treason. For a nobody orphan to pretend to be a prince? Who do we think we are?”

“Calm down,” Tobias said. “Who says it will be discovered one day? Conner will be there at every step to guide us. He has to, because he’ll hang, too, if we’re found out.”

“None of us is a perfect fit to what the prince should look like now,” I continued. “Not to mention that two weeks isn’t nearly enough time to learn everything he would know, whether Conner’s there or not. If we three stick together, he can’t force us to do this.”

“But I want to do it.” Tobias sat up and swung his feet out of bed. “You two can lie around if you want, but I intend to start learning what I need to as soon as possible.”

He surprised the servants in the hallway, who insisted they had been waiting for us, though their sleepy eyes said otherwise. Errol dug into the drawers of my wardrobe, stifling a yawn.

“You can go back to bed if you want,” I told him. “I’m fine here.”

“You don’t give the orders,” Errol reminded me. “Conner does. Your clothes will be more casual today, to allow for the afternoon activities.”

Reluctantly, I rolled out of bed so I could get dressed and Errol could get lost. I made Errol stand there while I dressed myself, although he insisted on inspecting me when it was finished. “Not to offend you,” he said as I fumbled with a buckle, “but it’s obvious you’ve never dressed in clothes such as these.”

I smiled. “If I have my way, I won’t have to dress in them much longer.”

Mott was waiting for us as we left the bedroom. He informed Tobias that he’d be working with a tutor in the library while Roden and I were trained in the basics of reading and writing upstairs in a room that had long ago been converted from a nursery. Tobias smirked at us as his servant escorted him away. He probably figured that being more educated gave him an advantage with Conner, and he was probably right. Roden whispered to me that he wouldn’t want to study with Tobias anyway. I agreed.

Our tutor was a man who instructed us to call him Master Graves, an appropriate name since he looked more like a grave-digger than a teacher. He was tall and thin as a shovel with pale skin and limp black hair that he combed in a way to make it appear as though he had more hair than he really did. I immediately decided to dislike him. Roden, however, seemed to be keeping an open mind about whether he was in fact a member of the walking dead. At least, when I whispered this possibility to Roden, he smothered a grin and quickly told me to hush.

Master Graves directed Roden and me to sit in chairs that were clearly intended for small children and faced a chalkboard. He began to write the alphabet, and then said to me, “I told you to sit down and we’ll get started.”

Roden looked up. He was already seated with his knees halfway up his chest.

I folded my arms resolutely. “I’m not sitting in a chair meant for a five-year-old. Get me a real chair.”

Master Graves arched his head so that he could better look down on me. “You are Sage, obviously. I was warned about you. Young man, do not mistake me for one of Conner’s servants. I am a gentleman and a scholar, and I will have your respect. You will sit in the chair I have available.”

Since he was clearly still around to keep me from running away, I called for Mott to come in. When he ducked his head in the room, I said, “Master Graves thinks he’s not one of Conner’s servants. But you are. I need a chair.”

“You have one,” he said, nodding to the one beside Roden.

“It’s too small. I can’t learn that way.”

“Too bad. Sit down.”

“Okay, but when Roden and I don’t learn our letters, you can explain to Conner why.”

Mott sighed and left the room. He returned several minutes later with a larger chair in each hand. Master Graves was incensed and said, as punishment for my disruption, I would have to write my letters an extra ten times that day.