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Regulus didn’t remember falling asleep, but as the sound of voices cut through the darkness, he pried open his heavy eyes. He moved and clutched his side, biting back a moan as a stab of rippling pain spread over his ribs. It had been awhile since he’d had to deal with lingering severe injuries. Adelaide leaned over him, her concerned face filling his field of vision.
“Easy there. The physician’s on her way.” She bit her lip. “I can’t muster enough power to heal you again. There’s something there, but...I can’t reach it.”
“It’s really not that bad.” He smiled as convincingly as possible. “Help me sit up?”
She moved back and helped him sit. He had to clench his teeth to keep from crying out as his ribs pinched. Carrying Adelaide had been a bad idea. But he would have done it again. Now upright, he noticed Lord and Lady Belanger sat in wooden chairs on the other side of the bed, near Adelaide. They watched silently as he moved back to lean against the wall at the head of the bed.
“I have good news.” Adelaide beamed, her eyes twinkling. “Mother has agreed not to blame you.” She winked at Regulus and he laughed, then clutched at his ribs again. Her smile faded.
“I’m fine.” A lie he was used to telling. He smiled and shook his head. “Maybe a kiss would help, though.”
Lord Belanger cleared his throat and Regulus’ face burned. He’d been so focused on Adelaide he’d already forgotten they were there. But Adelaide grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him full on the mouth. He closed his eyes, put his hands on her waist and kissed her, not caring that her parents were watching. It took every ounce of his self-control not to pull her back in when their lips parted.
“Better?” she whispered, her eyes dancing. She still held his face in her hands.
“Better.”
Lord Belanger cleared his throat again, more obviously this time.
“Please.” Adelaide rolled her eyes and dropped her hands from his face as she turned toward her parents. She leaned back on her hands. “You two can’t talk.”
“Fine.” Lord Belanger flushed. “I suppose that’s fair.”
A knock sounded at the door, and an older woman with a crown of gray braids walked in carrying a wool bag.
“Maggie!” Adelaide motioned the woman over with a warm smile. “This is Lord Hargreaves. He needs his ribs looked at.”
The woman—Maggie, apparently—walked over to the bed, her gaze darting between Adelaide and Regulus with curiosity. She set the bag on the bed. “Take your shirt off.”
He hesitated. He needed her care; but did it have to be here, in front of Adelaide and her parents? She would have to see someday, but he’d hoped it would be after they were married—when it wouldn’t matter anymore. Well, he could hide the most embarrassing ones, at least. As he pulled off his shirt, he kept his back close to the wall.
Adelaide gasped, and heat rushed up his neck to his ears. He wished it was a gasp of appreciation, but he knew it wasn’t. He was scarred. Several were from his time as a mercenary, like the one on his face. Many were from the last two years. The sorcery had healed him, but left scars. Some small and easy to miss. A couple were large, like the uneven white scar across most of his abdomen from the dragon’s tail.
Maggie glanced up at his face, then turned her attention back to his ribs. “Hm.”
He looked down. A stab of pain accompanied the movement. Blue and purple bruises marked yellowed skin over his injury. She pressed against the ribs with cold fingers. He gritted his teeth and flinched away.
“Hold still, dear.” Maggie ran her fingers over his ribs.
Regulus stared at the gauzy green fabric suspended over Adelaide’s four-poster bed, ignoring the ache and stabs.
“Definitely cracked,” Maggie said. “And these...” She turned his arm to get a better look at the scabbed bite marks and red skin on his arm, then pulled him a little away from the wall to prod at the bite on his shoulder. He twitched against the prick of pain but tried to stay still.
“Anything you can do?” Adelaide put her hand on top of his.
“I’ll salve the bites to fight infection, as I did with your arm. They should heal all right. The ribs will need salved, wrapped, and he’ll need to keep movement to a minimum.” Maggie pushed against his ribs again and he clenched his teeth until his jaw ached. “But they appear to be aligned and not threatening his lungs. He will heal, but it will take time.”
The breaks had been worse before Adelaide started to heal them. Breathing had been difficult and agonizing, but he’d tried to hide the blood he’d coughed up. He hadn’t coughed since she healed him. Adelaide looked downcast, so he gave her a reassuring smile. He couldn’t say anything in front of Maggie, who he guessed didn’t know about Adelaide’s magic, but he hoped Adelaide saw the silent thank you in his smile. She had healed his arm, and his ribs weren’t threatening to burst his lung. He counted that as a win. And Adelaide was alive and well, bigger win.
“Swing your legs over the side of the bed.” Maggie fetched a stool from in front of Adelaide’s vanity. She set it next to the bed and her forehead wrinkled when she saw Regulus hadn’t turned. “This isn’t an ideal angle, my lord.”
Regulus gulped and did as instructed, his face already burning with humiliation. Maggie didn’t seem to notice as she pulled a pot out of her bag, covered her fingers in sweet-smelling green salve, and began working the salve over his bruised ribs.
“Regulus...” Adelaide’s fingers brushed his back, and he cringed. A chair creaked as someone shifted.
“There are many reasons someone is whipped,” Lord Belanger said quietly. Maggie’s fingers paused before resuming her ministrations. “Normally, I wouldn’t pry, but you’re pursuing my daughter. Discipline or torture?”
Regulus sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “Mercenary discipline.” He winced as Maggie bumped a tender spot on his side. “Happened once.”
“What did you do that deserved a whip?”
Regulus chewed his lower lip. Would Belanger even believe the truth? But he’d promised Adelaide the truth. “Our captain was strict. My friend snuck out and missed his watch. I covered for him.” And earned extra lashes for my lie. But Drez wasn’t whipped, and that was all that mattered.
“You tried to hide your scars,” Belanger said. “Why?”
He bowed his head as Maggie tended to the bite on his arm. “I am not ashamed of what I did. But...” He gulped. “My back looks like a slave’s. That is unlikely to improve the opinion my intended’s parents have of me.” Maggie fumbled the jar, nearly dropping it as she scooped out more salve.
“Scars are nothing to be embarrassed about,” Belanger murmured.
Lady Belanger cleared her throat. “Scars, especially unearned ones, are the least of my concerns.”
“I don’t want you ever to feel you need to hide from me,” Adelaide said softly.
Their words soothed as much as Maggie’s salve, but he still felt uncomfortable in the silence that followed. He looked over his shoulder at Belanger, grasping for a new subject. “We need to warn the king.”
“I’ve already written His Excellency.” Belanger rested his chin on his fist, watching Regulus thoughtfully. “I explained everything and recommended he postpone his annual birthday masque in a few weeks. I sent a falcon an hour ago.”
The news brought no relief or consolation. Would the king even be able to stop the sorcerer—Kirven? The crying stone woman haunted his memories. Death and destruction. But they’d had to take the opal. Regulus suspected they had been seconds away from the sorcerer taking control of one of them. Now they had done the only thing they could—they had warned the king.
“Wait, his birthday masque?” Adelaide asked. Belanger nodded. “Prince Kirven attacked his parents on a Court Day, didn’t he?”
“Yes...” Belanger’s eyes widened. “When the castle was open and there were nobles present. He wanted a spectacle. And I was only worried about the security nightmare of a masque.”
“Maybe he’ll be patient enough to wait for the masque to attack,” Regulus said. Maggie rubbed the cool salve over the bite on his shoulder. “That might give us more time to figure out how to stop him.”
“But if the king cancels the masque, will he attack immediately?” Lady Belanger asked.
“We have warned the king.” Belanger folded his hands. “And Kirven failed once before. Worry gets us nowhere.”
Silence and the floral aroma of Maggie’s salve filled the room. Dust particles floated in the sunlight angling through Adelaide’s window between the dark, heavy curtains. Maggie put her salve away and pulled out a roll of narrow strips of white cloth. Regulus tapped his fingers against the bedspread.
“Lord Belanger—”
“Oh, Alfred. Please. Lord Belanger is a mouthful, especially among equals.” Alfred raised a brow. “I hope you don’t mind if I call you Regulus.”
“Oh. Of course.” He glanced at Adelaide, nervousness making him antsy.
“Hold still,” Maggie chided as she tightly wrapped the bandages around his torso. He took a deep breath and stopped fidgeting.
“I feel the need to be more formal for this.” He straightened his back, trying to look as confident as possible while sitting on a bed and having his wounds treated. “Lord Belanger, Lady Belanger. I would like to formally ask for your blessing to marry Adelaide.”
Maggie froze, then wrapped more frantically. Lady Belanger frowned. Alfred crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair.
“I believe,” Alfred said, eyes narrowed, “you mean to ask for my permission.”
“Respectfully, sir, I do not.” He met Adelaide’s eyes. “Adelaide asked me to marry her, and if she’ll still have me, I will.” Adelaide smirked, her eyes glittering.
“She...asked you?” Lady Belanger sounded incredulous.
Adelaide giggled. “I think I more told him to marry me than asked.”
Maggie tied off the bandaging and stuffed her things back into her bag. “That should do. My lords. My ladies.” She curtsied and fled the room.
“No,” Lady Belanger said, her accent thickening. “You’re too young—”
“I’m twenty-one!” Adelaide protested.
“And how old is he?” Lady Belanger flung her hand toward Regulus.
Regulus pulled his shirt back on, grimacing at the ache in his side. “I’ll be thirty in two months.”
“Thirty!” Lady Belanger gripped the arms of her chair. “Why—”
“Piahre,” Alfred patted her arm. “They’re closer in age than we are.”
“That’s different.” Lady Belanger slumped back in her chair.
“How is it different?” Adelaide waved her hands. “Father had five children and was thirty-two when he met you. You were twenty!”
“Fine, but we hardly know him.” Lady Belanger huffed. “We met Gaius before he asked to court Minerva. And then he courted her for several months before he asked for her hand. And you’ve been through a trying ordeal. This could be manufactured emotion—”
“My lady, with respect, I knew I loved Adelaide long before the events of the last few days.” Regulus put his arm around Adelaide, trying to remain as friendly as possible without backing down.
“Gaius was afraid of Father turning him down,” Adelaide said. “He wanted to ask sooner. Minerva told me as much. And I wanted to marry Regulus before any of this happened. Father...what do you think?”
Alfred paused before answering. “I think you risk being shunned by society if you marry a bastard and a mercenary.”
“He—” Adelaide started, but her father held up his hand. Regulus’ gut twisted with the sting of Alfred’s bluntness.
“Your mother and I raised you not to live your life in narrow-mindedness. Let’s review what I know about Regulus. I know his past. I know he caused you pain and put you in danger.” Alfred stood and clasped his hands behind his back as he turned away from them. “Yet I know that he has repeatedly put himself at risk for your sake. He has shown a concern for your safety, and a protectiveness for his friends. I know that you love him, and I can see he loves you. I know he makes you happy and you trust him.”
Alfred faced them with a sad smile. “And I trust you.” He looked at Regulus. “But I have two questions for Regulus first. And I want your complete honesty.”
Regulus inclined his head. Nerves made him twitchy, like he should be fighting or ready to fight. With a slow exhale, he focused on looking unconcerned and honest.
“Why did you become a mercenary?”
The direct question was like a punch to the gut. His arm slipped off Adelaide as a jumble of emotions overcame him. Through the glass of Adelaide’s window, he watched a flock of small birds fly in a mass, like a black wisp of cloud.
“Why does that matter?” Adelaide asked. “He was a warrior. Like you.”
At least that explained why she had never asked. Unlike most people, she heard mercenary and assumed warrior—not brigand.
“No, Ad.” The gentle sadness in Alfred’s voice hurt worse than if he had flat-out accused Regulus of being dishonorable. “I served my king. For duty and honor and to protect my family and friends. I need to know why he fought.”
The birds dove into the sprawling branches of a massive oak. Perhaps the truth would help—at least they would know he wasn’t just a treasure-hungry, blood-thirsty barbarian. Her father was right to ask. But the truth would highlight his other flaw.
“He’s a good man,” Adelaide said. “And so are his men. They’re honorable—”
“I asked Regulus.” Alfred tapped his fingers against his crossed arms. “And his silence is rather loud.”
Regulus sighed. He focused on Adelaide, on the way his heart ached for her companionship. “You deserve the truth.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter—”
“Yes. It does.” He picked at some lint on the covers. “My guardian—a distant cousin—reviled me. I lived with him for twelve years, and he took every chance to punish me, to mock me, to remind me my birth was an unfortunate mistake. But I endured for the hope that after I was knighted, I could go home. Or at least somewhere I could be accepted.” He worked his jaw, ashamed of what a naïve idiot he had been.
“A couple weeks before my knighthood ceremony, my father sent a note and a gift.” He smiled ruefully. “It was a sword. Plain and unassuming, but expertly made. The note said he was proud and wished me the best, but he wouldn’t attend my knighting.”
Adelaide placed a hand on his thigh. He shrugged.
“I hadn’t really expected him to come. But I had hoped.” Regulus shifted, studying the twisting carved posts of Adelaide’s bed. “About a week later, Dresden and I were out for a run. Three men attacked us. We weren’t armed, but we fought them off and caught one.” He paused.
He’d never told this story before. “Lady Arrano had sent them to kill me.”
No one made a sound, but the shock in the room was palpable. Adelaide’s hand slipped off his leg. Regulus avoided eye contact. He didn’t want their pity.
“I finally realized the truth,” he continued. “Even once knighted, that wouldn’t be my world. Dresden was my manservant, and he was my only friend. I had no idea my father wrote me into his will in the event of my half-brother dying without an heir until I inherited Arrano two years ago. At eighteen, I had no family, no home, no future.”
“I’m sorry,” Adelaide whispered.
Regulus ignored his discomfort and continued. “I joined the first mercenary troop I found. Dresden joined me. Later, I led my own troop. I strove to be as honorable as possible.” He summoned his courage and met Alfred’s inscrutable gaze. “I regret that being a mercenary affects how people see me. But I don’t regret what I did. I met good, loyal men who became my friends. I killed, but I also saved people. I am not ashamed of how I led my men.”
For several tense moments, Alfred stared back. Adelaide gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Regulus was about to offer to answer any further questions they might have about his mercenary history when Alfred spoke.
“Thank you for your honesty.” He was relieved to see kindness, not judgment, in Alfred’s eyes. “Your birth does not concern me. Your actions do. But I have one more question, and I expect an immediate answer. From you, not Adelaide.”
Regulus braced himself, trying to guess what he would ask. About his time as a mercenary? About serving the sorcerer? The worst thing he had ever done? He clenched his jaw as he flashed back to his hand squeezing Adelaide’s throat as the sorcerer controlled him. Although that was only the worst thing he’d been forced to do. He had made many terrible choices as a mercenary. Alfred’s gaze bored into him, like he was looking into his very soul. Regulus fought the urge to flinch under his scrutiny.
“Did you have relations with my daughter?”
Blood drained from Regulus’ face. “No! I swear it—”
“Father!” Adelaide flushed dark red.
“I respect—”
“We didn’t—”
“I wouldn’t—”
Alfred held up his hand, silencing them both. Regulus held his breath, ready to protest. “I am satisfied. Wary, as fathers always are, but satisfied. I give you my permission and my blessing.”
“Thank you, sir.” Regulus let the tension out of his shoulders and allowed himself to breathe again.
“Alfred,” Adelaide’s father said, “please.”
“Thank you, Alfred.” Regulus inclined his head. Lady Belanger still sat back in her chair, her lips pressed together. “Lady Belanger? Adelaide loves you. I don’t require you to approve of me.” He was accustomed to living under the weight of everyone’s disapproval. “But I do desire your blessing.”
“Mother,” Adelaide said softly. “Please.”
Lady Belanger blinked, her eyes moist. The tendons in her neck stood out and her temples pulsed as she worked her jaw before speaking in Khast.
“Oh, Mother.” Adelaide pushed off the bed. Regulus’ hand fell off her shoulder as she moved to her mother and pulled her into an embrace. She said something in Khast into Lady Belanger’s shoulder. Her mother’s hands clenched her hair as she responded. Regulus watched, unsure what to do or where to look. He seriously needed to have Adelaide teach him some Khast.
When they separated, both women had tears on their faces. Regulus looked to Alfred, more than a little terrified. But Alfred was looking at his family, his own eyes watering. Lady Belanger said something else he didn’t understand, then stood.
“Regulus.”
He moved to that side of the bed and stood. She was an inch or two shorter than Adelaide and darker, but she looked up at him with similar dark brown eyes. A few strands of silver hair stood out against her black braid. She considered him, then hugged him a little too hard and immediately stepped back.
“You better not hurt my daughter.”
“Never, my lady.”
