Fifteen years had passed since the coup and Prince Jasper’s transformation into the toddler boy Jas. Now, Jas was a strong and skilled seventeen-year-old, eager to make his family proud. His former life was more of a dream than anything, and something he not only did not expect to return to, but didn’t want to. Cal was a far better father than the former King, for one thing.
Jas waited by the door for his father to join him. Cal was accompanying him to the Palace for the start of Jas’s apprenticeship in the Royal Smithy. He apprenticed to the local blacksmith at thirteen and immediately showed natural talent for the task, quickly becoming good enough to work for the Crown. Cal couldn’t be prouder. Neither could the rest of Jas’s still growing family.
“Do not try to leave without saying goodbye to your mother,” Gwen scolded, coming up to Jas. She hugged him and handed him a knapsack. “Here is your lunch.”
“Thank you,” Jas said. “Please, go sit. Karissa and Tyria can take care of the house.” Gwen rubbed her large baby bump ruefully. This was her eighth pregnancy, but first multiple. The doctor said she was carrying triplets.
“Those girls try to get out of their chores,” Gwen sighed.
“Karissa, Tyria!” Jas called. Promptly, his fourteen-year-old and thirteen-year-old sisters appeared before him. “Help our mother around the house. Without complaining.”
“Fine,” Tyria muttered. She and Karissa kissed Jas on the cheek.
“Will you say goodbye to the others?” Karissa asked.
“If I say goodbye to everyone, I will be late for my apprenticeship,” Jas laughed. In addition to Karissa and Tyria, he had two younger sisters, ten-year-old Mare and one-year-old Gemma. His three younger brothers were seven-year-old Gage, three-year-old Hektor, and two-year-old Orson. Cal was promoted four years ago to a role that paid so well he could have any amount of children without struggling. Gwen loved being a mother, so she agreed to Cal’s suggestion that they have as many children as possible before she became too old.
Cal came down the stairs and walked up to Jas.
“We need to leave before Gage tries to hold us hostage,” Cal laughed. He and Jas waved goodbye and left the house. As they headed for the Palace, they chatted idly about local gossip. The war was over now, with the loyalists scattered to hiding underground, so the air was peaceful and easy-going. Jas waved at a pretty girl his age named Ana who lived nearby as they passed. Ana giggled and blushed. Cal raised an eyebrow. “Should I speak to her parents about a possible betrothal?”
“Give it at least a few months,” Jas said. “I like her, but I want to make sure she is compatible. I want a marriage like you and Mother have.”
“Yes, your mother and I have a rare perfect marriage,” Cal agreed. They arrived at the Royal Smithy. Cal embraced Jas tightly. “Make me proud, son.”
“I shall.”
“You have come a long way since the days of Prince Poopy,” Cal pointed out.
“Father!” Jas protested.
“Seriously, I worried we would never get you out of diapers!”
“Come on, Father, not at my place of work,” Jas begged. Cal chuckled.
“Very well. I will come by at the end of the day to pick you up.” With that, he left. Jas quickly got to work, and lost himself in his tasks. Until a voice he recognized spoke.
“No…it cannot be.”
Jas swallowed nervously. He recognized the voice, yes. But he recognized it from his former life as Prince Jasper. Dreading what he would see when he looked, he slowly raised his gaze. To his horror, it was as he thought. Prince Jasper had known this person very well. And no doubt, this person would realize Jas had an eerie resemblance to the presumed dead Prince.