4: Riches to Rags

                                    

                                          
          
                          
Chapter Four
                          
    When Arthur stepped into the royal palace the following morning and was immediately summoned to his majesty's study room, he panicked.
                          
    If Jack was in trouble, then he was most likely in trouble, too. What was he going to be punished for? Being passive while Jack went around grabbing gold? Not reporting the incidents to the King? Did he have too much ham at last night's ball and upset one of the delegates from the Realm of Giants? 
                          
    What would the verdict be? He could be forbidden from seeing his friend again. He could be thrown in the dungeon. And may the Founders save him if word reached his father's ears. 
                          
    By the time Arthur had made it to the front of King Adriel's room, he was a nervous wreck. Twiddling his thumbs and resisting the urge to obsessively chew on the inside of his cheeks, he paced back and forth in the corridor. 
                          
    The door cracked open and Jack stepped out. Arthur wasn't sure what he caught in his friend's expression, a mix of anger and anticipation, blended with eagerness, excitement and, somehow, sadness.
                          
    "Jack," he heard the King call from within the study. "Don't forget to visit your mother before you leave." 
                          
    Leave? Arthur's thoughts were sent into another session of intensive churning. Where was his friend going? Why? Was the King sending him away? Where? Could Arthur himself come with? 
                          
    "You'll contact me if there's any change?" was the young prince's reply as he prepared to close the door.
                          
    "You'll be the first to know." 
                          
    Satisfied with the king's answer, Jack turned away. Once he saw Arthur, he stilled. "What are you doing here?" 
                          
    The boy was brought out the labyrinth of his erratic thoughts. "One of the guards told me to meet your father in his private office." 
                          
    "It seems that my father is pretty popular this morning." His friend simply shrugged. "We're heading out soon. I'm going to visit Cinna. In the meantime, you're going to take Sir Castor's gift and figure out what the heck it is. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go pack."
                          
Riches to Rags
                          
    As Jack headed down the hallway, turned and disappeared, Arthur gulped. He wiped his hands dry on his trousers and whispered a quick prayer to the Founders. Nervously, he started towards the door, giving it a series of gentle knocks before entering. Arthur peered his head into the King's study, filled with ornate desks and chairs, a neat carpet with elaborately carved wooden shelves lining the sides. 
                          
    King Adriel sat at his desk, massaging his forehead, seemingly deep in thought. 
                          
    With his throat parched, Arthur swallowed. "You wanted to see me, Your Majesty?"
                          
    "Yes, Arthur. Please, come on in. And close the door behind you." 
                          
    The boy did precisely as he was told, letting the door shut as silently as he could. He could feel his heart against his ribcage. He often accompanied Jack on his quests and did little to stop him. All he often did was wait and pray to the Founders that his friend would return after some foolhardy attempt at gold. Granted, he tried to stop Jack several times, but they were never successful. Was this to discuss his punishment for failing to be a better companion?
                          
    The king gestured to the leather bound seat in front of him.
                          
    "Did I do something wrong, Your Majesty?" Arthur murmured as he dared to take a seat.