Nine Years Later:
Silence reigned between Potara and the Mother Planet outside the yearly deal and the negotiations that were set in place. Neither queen reached out to the other, a stubborn determination settled between them. Eya would not be bent, and Essa knew silence was the best protection Potara could have, the broken sisterly bond not worth salvaging with so much at stake. The family of House Porta stood strong without the further interference, and Jacob grew into quite the young prince.
"Mom! Dad!" Jacob's voice rang through the castle as he took the steps down the stairs two at a time. "I'm heading off for the afternoon!" He jumped the final step and hit the ground in a jog towards the door.
"Stay safe and keep your security with you! Or else make sure Oscar goes with you," Queen Essa shouted down as she stepped out of the room, standing at the banister above.
"Mom!" Jacob's steps slowed and faltered, a loud groan echoing. He turned to look up at her, distress painted across his face. "Those two mess with my style and intimidate my friends! And Oscar looks like a babysitter! You do want me to have friends, right? Weren't you the one who encouraged me to hang out with people outside the castle? And to find myself?"
"What I want is for my son to return safe and sound." She leaned her arms on the banister and chuckled at the eyeroll she received. "You know your happiness is important but a dead son isn't a happy son, now is he? You're not like everyone else. You're a prince. There are many people in this kingdom who would try and hurt you if they found the opportunity. Your father isn't everyone's first choice of king."
"Well, that's not my fault!" Jacob huffed and dragged his hand down his face, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "I just want to be like everyone else! I'm always being told where I can and can't go; what I can and can't do! I'm always being followed and watched! I'm a prisoner and this castle is my prison!"
"You don't know what prison is," James spoke, stepping up to the banister behind Essa. A small yelp escaped Essa at his sudden appearance. Clutching her heart, she pushed her weight against the banister and laughed, glancing at her husband.
"Apologies, my love," James whispered as he pressed a hand to her back before returning his attention to his son. "Jacob, you want for nothing. You have been spoiled your entire life; protected from the harsh reality of living anywhere else. I lived as your friends did, perhaps even worse. As one of the people, I can assure you, there were days my family could only cling to praying for better days."
Jacob shifted, his mouth pulling into a tight line as he crossed his arms. His guards appeared and stood next to him, the teenager giving them a harsh look as his father continued with his speech.
"We wondered where our next meal would come from and if we could find any money to help us survive. I would watch my mother and father starve so me and your uncle could eat. I barely had any clothes on my back. It wasn't until I became a soldier that I had any semblance of anything. I worked for everything I had and fought tooth and nail to get it," James assured, shaking his head.
"That's not what I heard," Jacob muttered.
"Speak up, boy," James raised his voice. "You were brave enough for it to come out of your mouth, so say it loud enough for everyone to hear."
"It's doesn't matter," Jacob rolled his eyes.
"If you don't have the guts to say your words for everyone to hear, you don't say them. If you don't want anyone to hear how you feel, you keep your mouth shut. This is a dangerous world and while you may think you got away with what you said, I heard what you muttered from your mouth. If I didn't work my way up to where I was, I wouldn't have been trusted at the king's side. What happened to him was a tragedy and I could not control it, believe me, I tried. And more than anything, I cannot control who your aunt chooses as king. But what I can control is making my kingdom thrive and protecting this family."
For a moment, there was silence, Jacob blinking at his father as his words set in and the reality of being heard struck him. "I'm sorry, father. I'll be wiser with my words," he attempted, voice hesitating.
"Just go, and do not lose your guards," James instructed.
As soon as the teenager left with the guards, Essa turned to James, concern painting her expression. "Did you have to be so stern?"
"My father struggled to survive, selling anything he could find. They laughed at my father and told my mother to leave him. He was abused daily. I had to come home and see my father crying, struggling to keep the tears back. He didn't want us to see. Do you know what all that does to a kid? It makes or breaks them, and it broke my brother. He went mad. I won't let our son stand there and be ungrateful, Essa." James ran a hand through his hair.
"My love," Essa started, taking James's hands in hers, "not everyone's experiences are the same. Yes, Jacob crossed the line, but not everyone has the same drive and hunger you had. His friends aren't struggling. They're happy living their lives, and that's what Jacob sees and wants. He wants to be like them."
"But he isn't like his friends, Essa. You know that. He's a prince, destined for greatness. We can't risk anything."
"I know, I know. But I think you need to cut him some slack."
"There's no room for that."
"I can see there is no convincing you," Essa sighed, patting James's chest and walking away.