Dawn arrived punctually, as always.
The first rays of the morning sun slipped through the window of Aito's room, painting the floor in a warm, promising gold. But Aito was already awake. He had been for some time before the sun even appeared, watching the sky shift from black to blue, from blue to orange, and finally to the golden hue that now enveloped everything.
Today there was no fencing training. Zekin had been summoned to a meeting with the king, and Calithia had etiquette lessons with her tutor. So, for the first time in a long while, Aito had a free day.
A perfect day to do what he had planned.
He dressed quickly, with the help of a maid who arrived right on time, and headed straight for the gardens. He knew his mother usually had breakfast there when the weather permitted, and today was one of those days.
The garden was beautiful, as always. The flowers released their morning fragrance, dew sparkled on the petals like tiny jewels, and the birds sang a symphony that changed every day. In the center, seated at a white marble table, his mother sipped tea from a delicate porcelain cup.
"Good morning, Mother," Aito said, approaching with determined steps.
Cecilia looked up and smiled when she saw him. Her youngest son always brought her a special kind of joy, a warmth she couldn't quite put into words.
"Good morning, my son. How are you?" she replied, setting the cup back on its saucer.
"I'm fine, Mother," Aito answered, but there was something different in his tone. A resolve that Cecilia recognized well. It was the same one she saw in Marko when he made important decisions.
"I can see you have something on your mind," she said, raising an eyebrow curiously. "Tell me, what is it?"
Aito took a deep breath. He had been waiting for this moment for weeks. He wasn't going to waste it.
"Mother, today I want to go for a walk in the city," he said, his voice firm despite his young age.
Cecilia froze for a moment. The teacup, which she had just lifted again, stopped halfway to her lips.
"Oh?" she said, unable to hide her surprise. "You want to go out into the city today?"
"Yes, Mother," Aito replied, nodding energetically.
Cecilia set the cup down once more and looked at him steadily. Her son was only five years old. The city could be a dangerous place, full of people who didn't always have good intentions. But she also knew she couldn't keep him locked inside the palace forever. One day he would have to know the world he would one day help govern, even if it wasn't his destiny to be king.
"Why do you want to go to the city?" she asked, trying to understand his reasons.
"I want to see it," Aito answered simply. "I want to see the houses, the people, the markets. I want to see how those who don't live in the palace live. In the stories you read me, there are always cities full of people, of mages, of adventures. I want to see if it's true."
Cecilia smiled at her son's innocence. He wants to see if it's true, she thought. As if stories could lie.
But she understood his curiosity. She had felt it herself at his age, when she was studying at the academy and listened to students from other houses talk about their homes, their cities, their lives beyond the institution's walls.
After thinking for a while, she nodded.
"Very well," she said, and Aito held his breath. "In that case, I will let you go."
"Thank you, Mother!" Aito exclaimed, giving a little hop of joy.
"But—" Cecilia interrupted, raising a finger. "You will be accompanied by a maid. And by some guards who will watch you closely. I don't want anything to happen to you."
"That's fine, Mother," Aito replied, nodding seriously. "And thank you. Really."
Cecilia looked at him tenderly and caressed his cheek.
"Enjoy your walk, my son. But promise me you will listen to the maid and the guards."
"I promise, Mother."
---
Minutes later, Aito was crossing the great palace gates accompanied by Elara, a young maid with a kind expression, and two stern-looking guards who walked a few steps behind, alert to any sign of danger.
"Young master," Elara said, using the title they had agreed upon to avoid revealing his true identity, "would you like us to request a carriage?"
Aito shook his head.
"No," he said firmly. "I want to walk. I want to feel everything."
Elara smiled and nodded. There was something about this child—in his golden eyes and his determination—that reminded her why she loved working in the palace.
The path from the castle to the city was a stone trail lined with ancient trees. Aito walked with light steps, looking at everything around him: the falling leaves, the flying birds, the clouds slowly changing shape. Everything was new, everything was fascinating.
When they reached the city, Aito stopped for a moment to take it in.
The city stretched out before him like a living organism. Narrow, winding streets branched off in every direction, lined with houses of stone and wood of varying heights and colors. Some had dark slate roofs, others reddish tiles. Flower pots in the windows added splashes of color, and wooden signs above the doors announced the trades of their occupants: a baker, a blacksmith, a tailor.
And people. People everywhere. Men and women hurrying along, children running and playing, old people sitting at their doorways watching the comings and goings. Scents of freshly baked bread, spices, woodsmoke, flowers, animals. Sounds of conversations, laughter, arguments, horses' hooves on cobblestones, creaking cart wheels.
Aito stood still, taking it all in. It was overwhelming. It was beautiful. It was… life.
"Come, young master," Elara said gently. "We still have much to see."
Aito nodded and took his first step into the city.