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The Heart of a King

By Nathan Veyon

King Falton stared at his empty banqueting hall. This would be his third midwinter feast since taking the throne. The first had been subdued in honor of his beloved father’s death. The second had been a debacle.


Falton’s parents had him late in life. Therefore, at the time of his father’s passing, many believed he was too young to rule. Yet they criticized him for being too old to still be unwed.

So he’d planned an epic feast to resolve both concerns.

He watched from the balcony as the banqueting hall began to fill, going over his plans one more time. Having been blessed by a fairy centuries earlier, Crycente was the only kingdom in the world that grew gems, and The King’s Heart was the rarest of them all. It was without equal and, therefore, reserved for the royal family. If given to one of the maidens attending the feast, it would signify a betrothal. But which maiden?

A ripple moved through the crowd as Lady Malise entered. She was quickly beset by young men enamored by her beauty, while the young women stared enviously at her long, black hair. The older women clucked their tongues, whispering about her unseemly position as manager of her father’s trading empire while their husbands sagely nodded, agreeing she would be the best choice for queen. Falton sighed. To him, she remained the obnoxious older girl who’d bested him in every subject during tutoring.

When no more guests entered the hall, he launched into his well-prepared speech. A quarter of the way through, Malise caught his eye. She faked a small yawn. Sometimes he wasn’t sorry at all for putting that frog in her salad years ago.

He skipped to the end of his speech, and soon the feast commenced. He walked down the steps to mingle with the crowd.

“My king.”

He turned. A young woman whom he had never seen before stood with her hand on the rail and her eyes on him. Her simple, pale blue gown did not speak of wealth, but it matched her diamond blue eyes. White-blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders.

Stunned, he cleared his throat. “Welcome. What— what’s your name?”

“Lase, your Highness.”

“Lase, would you care to join me for a dance?”

“It’d be my honor.”

Much to the annoyance of many court women, he spent the long evening with Lase by his side. She conversed easily with all, and he found himself laughing often.

Rapidly, it drew near midnight—the time at which the Heart must be given.

His chamberlain, Gelaid, drew him aside to give him the box. “Your Majesty, are you sure about this? You’ve only—”

“Yes, I’m sure.” His own heart swelled with resolve as he walked towards Lase. The crowd grew quiet as he handed her the box. She giggled and opened it. The gem’s glow illuminated her face. She leaned in and chastely kissed the young king on the cheek. The crowd cheered. She might not be nobility, but with a King’s Heart, that mattered little.

The main event over, the crowd began to leave. Falton bid goodnight to all and headed to his room. He lay in bed staring at the canopy. The feast had been an epic success, and he’d finally found the one. He stared into the darkness, his thoughts swirling, until exhaustion finally won.

Gelaid woke him harshly.

“The woman has wagered your gift and lost.”

On the advice of Gelaid, he hid in his room for a week.


Shaking his head, Falton pondered the current gossip. They disapprove of my bachelorhood while critiquing my taste in women. Of course, he didn’t really trust his taste in women now, either, and was considering which of the nobility—preferably old and male—he could most safely give the Heart to. A woman’s chuckle startled him.

“Malise—” He caught his breath, finding her quite pleased with herself for having surprised him. “What?”

“I came to save you.” She crossed her arms and grinned.

“By giving me a heart attack?” He turned back to the rail.

“Falton, look at me.” She touched his shoulder. “Give me the King’s Heart this year.”

He froze.

“Come on.” She tugged at his arm until he turned to look at her. “I’m not proposing marriage, Falton.” She rolled her eyes. “I won’t hold you to anything, but it will placate the court.”

He groaned. “I’m considering Duke Methelbrand.”

Malise laughed. “Safe option, but the court won’t like it. I’m offering a solution they’ll accept.”

“But why help me?” For all he knew, she hated him as much as he did her.

Malise’s face softened. “I just know how difficult it is to lead.” Her eyes sharpened. “But, if I ever find another frog, I’m telling the court you asked for a betrothal.” She winked and walked away primly.

Falton stared thoughtfully as the decorations slowly filled the hall.

The sun set, and most of the attendees had arrived before he came to a decision and headed down.

“Please welcome King Falton!”

He waved at the crowd. “Let’s begin.”

Courtiers whispered as a familiar blue gown flashed in the crowd—Lase hung on the arm of some nobleman. Falton felt the pang of loss, but straightened his back and kept moving. Malise, wearing a red and black dress, the country’s colors, caught his eye as he searched through the crowd for his chamberlain. Falton found Gelaid and whispered in his ear. Gelaid paled, but was shooed off before he could mount a respectable protest.

Midnight drew close, and the excitement in the crowd grew. Gelaid brought the box, the look on his face showing certainty his King had lost his senses.

Falton strode towards Malise. The crowd murmured. Malise curtsied. He handed her the box and whispered, “Thank you.”

Malise smiled and lifted the lid. The crowd cheered, but abruptly quieted as Malise’s eyes went wide with shock.

Blinking at her from atop the King’s Heart was… a tiny frog.


Can you guess which song from the 1980's inspired this story? Share in the comments!

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Nathan Veyon grew up reading Tolkien and Lewis. This developed into a lifelong love of science fiction and fantasy. He enjoys computers and science which he also currently teaches. In his spare time he also enjoys working on developing multiple worlds that are slowly being turned into actual books.


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