Samera

A chance meeting between a prince and a peasant results in consequences that will not only change their lives, but also the kingdom.

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12. Chapter Twelve: Khyber

 

      It was several days before I saw my father.

      “What is it son?” he asked when I told him that I needed to talk to him.

      We went to the drawing room and sat by the blazing fire.

      “Why don’t the guards patrol the lower town at night?” I demanded.

      My father blinked in surprise, probably because of my tone. “What did you say?”

      Trying to control my anger I answered. “The guards don’t patrol the lower town at night. The gangs are allowed to kill people and take their homes. Why don’t you do something to stop it?”

      “You dare to question me?” he growled menacingly, fury clouding his face. “You think I haven’t tried to stop the crime that infects the lower town? You’ve forgotten your place, Prince Khyber. I would expect this from your brother but not you.”

      “You haven’t answered my question, father. Why do the guards not patrol the lower town at night?”

      Narrowing his eyes at me he replied. “I cannot spare the guards. It is more important that we ensure that everyone respects the curfew.”

      I shook my head. “You’re wrong.”

      For a moment I thought that my father would hit me, but he merely gazed at me with eyes full of disappointment before leaving the room.

      My father didn’t care about the poor. He just wanted to make sure that they stayed away from the rich. The task had fallen to me to help the poor and I was going to make sure that I did all I could to make their lives better.

 

 

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