| |
King Troyar sipped from his brandy, regarding David with a contemplative gaze. "You are only sixteen?"
David was trying not to appear nervous, but was undoubtedly failing beneath the blatant scrutiny of the King of Reyaldume of the Fourth Realm. "That is correct, Your Majesty."
Troyar was a fit human, tall, broad, and aged well into his forties. Gray was just starting to show at his temples, but he had lost none of the imposing stature his family was known for.
When David had received a summons to the Fourth Realm, he hadn't realized he would be having a private audience with King Troyar before Shadow King Retsorn called for him. Though he was immensely curious about the many colorful and expensive looking items in the smoking room, he sat still and quiet, holding his glass of brandy between clasped fingers.
David could feel King Troyar's eyes on him, studying him with an unnerving air of supremacy. The boy fixed his eyes on the heavy rug under their feet, woven to depict a dozen amalgamers placing the sun in the Reyaldume sky, and pretended not to notice the blatant scrutiny.
"Professor Foraz says that you've completed four years of course work in under two," the king commented after an uncomfortable silence.
David mutely nodded, looking up respectfully.
"He and Professors Stelfer and Scade speak very highly of your ethics and character. Professor Perrasol says that never has he had such a promising student in his first year herb working course, and that you came to his second year course so far ahead after break that he was forced to advance you another year. I have also seen your marks, all top of your class."
David flushed at the calmly delivered praise. "Yes, Your Majesty. Though, to be fair, I already knew the basic coursework from the books generously provided to Headmaster Nelan by Professor Scade."
"Still, only two years of formal education and you are already years ahead of the other students your age."
"I swore to King Retsorn that he would not regret the faith and generosity he has shown me." David explained, wishing fervently that the conversation would shift away from academia. He much preferred the awkward silence of before to the casual discussion of his hard labors.
"And I have not," the Shadow King replied, emerging from the dark side of a shelf.
David stood, nearly dropping his untasted brandy. "Your Majesty!" He bowed, awkwardly holding the glass, and both kings chuckled.
"You have not changed your mind about serving me?" King Retsorn asked, accepting the glass of brandy King Troyar held out to him.
"No, Your Majesty, of course not." David bowed again, and both kings waved impatiently for him to sit. David complied, cursing himself for the childish enthusiasm that seemed to erupt at the thought of joining the Shadow Court. Every day he found himself imagining what it would be like to belong, to have a home of his own . . . his own life and responsibilities. He missed Ferremor and Alex, but they had each other, and all he had were his dreams. Only after he had found his own place could he go back. He would have the strength to see their love and know that his world wouldn't crumble. He would thrive.
"I am concerned about your motives, as I was the day you dropped to your knee, so willing to promise your life away when you had never before met me or seen the court," Retsorn said when he and King Troyar were seated comfortably across from David. "However, you are old enough to forge your own path, and I could use you."
David sat forward on the edge of his seat. "Anything, Your Majesty. Whether formal appointment or not, I am your man."
King Troyar chuckled. "Well, Rysh, you weren't over exaggerating his enthusiasm," he said, glancing to Retsorn.
David looked between the men, trying not to read too much into the fact that they had discussed him.
"My herb worker's strength is failing," Retsorn continued. "In a few years, perhaps less, he will be gone, faded away. I need someone young and promising to apprentice under him. Your humility and devoted study habits served you well when I was considering candidates for his replacement."
David couldn't believe what he was hearing. King Retsorn had been considering him for the replacement of his personal herb worker? It was so big, so soon. David's eyes fell to the floor while he struggled to take in his situation. He could never have imagined acquiring such a high position so quickly. Was this really happening to him?
"Not what you were expecting, I see," Retsorn commented. "I will understand if it is too much responsibility so early in your studies. I had considered the possibility that you would wish instead to finish your coursework at the school."
"Oh, no, Your Majesty." David looked up, his heart racing. "I am just amazed at the confidence you are showing in me and my abilities, and I am flattered and greatly honored." David set the glass aside and knelt once more, eager to show his fealty. "It would be my honor to serve you in any way you see fit, Sire."
Troyar laughed and shook his head. "I wish I had a hundred like him, Rysh, you lucky bastard."