<br/><div class="floatright">(https://img00.deviantart.net/9350/i/2013/067/7/5/prince_ivan_wolf_by_mad_sama-d5xbtav.jpg)</div>Auren had found it very strange to leave his old bedroom.  For over a decade, he had expected his adult life to be that of a man that, needing nothing, was mostly left to his own devices.  And not being a hedonist nor soft for a blue-blood, all his things to the extent he could choose them had reflected a rather spartan, utilitarian taste.  His surroundings had been rich, but cozy, everything he needed in arms reach but his needs being easy to satisfy.  For years he'd slept in a peaceful, of the way room in the castle that happened to have a small patio and window overlooking the cliffs, one of the best--but most secluded--views in the palace.<br/><br/>Those days were gone, and there was mistaking it from the second he laid eyes on the new room that had been prepared for him.  This decadent chamber had not only room to sleep or study--one could actually take a short walk around in it.  There were two flat walls set at an angle of about 120 degrees, and a curved wall connecting them with glass windows showing the ocean opposite the royal city and a patio outside that dozens of people could easily mill about on.  Not one, but two fireplaces laid in the wall opposite his bed.  Well, the royal bed--it was barely raised from the floor as it had to accommodate Cima, and it was immensely long, wide, and subtly reinforced to accommodate Odel.   A curtain could be drawn to veil the whole bed from view of the rest of the room, which had vast empty spaces broken up by couches and rugs in front of one fireplace and a stately desk in front of the other.  Peculiarly, and perhaps because it was such an effort to screen the entire bed from view, a system had been rigged where by tugging on a silk rope suspended by the head a smaller screen would fall from the wall, immediately giving privacy to whoever lay in the center of the mattress.  All the better for unworthy eyes to not see the future king's most valuable treasures, he supposed.<br/><br/>Perhaps the biggest difference to Auren, though, was how little time he had to actually rest while he was in his chambers.  Each night he returned to his room to find more official correspondence waiting for him--missives and replies from dignitaries of far off lands that knew him just enough that he would have to write back in his own hand.  Thoughtful warnings and reminders of his pending schedule.  Occassionally, a dirty note or invitation from one of his wives.<br/><br/>He would kill for one of the latter right now, he thought to himself as he slumped back  and dipped his quill in a jar of ink, not nearly done.  Unbelievably, he was still writing thank you notes from his wedding day--each wife was of course the representative of a great people, which translated into a great<em>many</em>people who had to be thanked for such a perfect selection in bride, reassured that their good faith and loyalty to the empire wouldn't go unrewarded, and generally told how happy the new couple were and how their joyous matrimony was a perfect symbol of the continuing glory of the kingdom.  Regardless of if he found the marriage pleasant, soothing, or downright terrifying.<br/><br/>"When I'm crowned," he muttered to nobody, "my first decree will be that nobody shall hold more than ten words in their title..." he could almost feel his hand cramping up as he began signing yet another letter 'Your Imperial Majesty's Heir by Election, Decree, and Consent, the Royal-Born Prince and future King of Kings, Master of all in these Realms under but One, General, Adjudicator, and Keeper of the Peace, etcetera etcetera, Auren Arrakis."  And then the post-script: "All my blessings and well wishes not hitherto described, yours to be assumed."<br/><br/>"May you choke on them," he muttered to himself, putting the page aside and stretching his arms.  It was night already.