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In the morning they ordered a tub of hot water brought to their room. Alfred gave Adelaide coin to purchase new clothes for herself and Regulus while the men washed up. Even though Regulus had argued against Dresden and Alfred coming to rescue Adelaide, he was thankful they had insisted. Thankful to have Dresden, and thankful Alfred had had the foresight to pack a good amount of coin.
He wished he had the rest of his men with him, too, but it was better this way. Safer to travel in a smaller group. Better that he hadn’t endangered their lives any further. And comforting to know Caleb and Perceval had stayed to help protect Belanger castle while Jerrick and Estevan had returned home to keep an eye on Arrano.
Regulus was scrubbing his back when someone knocked at the door. Dresden, his hair still dripping, finished fastening his trousers and threw the door open. Adelaide’s eyes widened and her face turned dark red as she looked from Drez’s bare chest to Regulus sitting in the wooden tub to the ceiling. Regulus tensed, his skin on fire even as a traitorous grin pulled at his lips. She shoved a pile of clothes against Dresden’s chest and spun away.
Alfred slammed the door closed, one boot half laced. “Do you have a brain, man?”
Drez laughed. “I’m not sure which surprised her more, Reg. My excellent olive-skinned physique and masculine chest hair, or the fact you’re naked.”
Alfred whacked the back of Drez’s head and stomped back to his bed to finish putting on his boots. Drez held the bundle of clothes with one hand and rubbed the back of his head with the other. He mouthed “ow” to Regulus as he dropped the clothes onto a bed.
“This should look fetching on you, Reg.” Dresden held up a deep green dress.
“That’s clearly Adelaide’s, you egotistical bearded nit-wit.”
Drez laid the dress out on the other bed before he finished dressing. Once Regulus had shaved and dressed in the new clothes—a pair of black trousers that were a touch tight, a blue tunic, and a black belt—the men left the room. The inn’s staff changed out the water for fresh heated water, and Adelaide went in to get cleaned up. Alfred stood watch outside the door while Regulus and Dresden got food and drink from the tavern on the ground floor of the three-story wooden building.
The vegetables were mush and flavorless, but the bread was fresh and the mead decent. They got more than a few stares and curious glances. Regulus’ scar and Dresden’s Carasian complexion and nose often drew attention, so it wasn’t new.
Regulus and Drez split up, talking to other tavern guests and fishing for information about if anyone had seen or heard anything about the sorcerer or Carrick. People either didn’t care to talk or didn’t know anything. Regulus intimidated the barmaid, judging by the way she kept looking at him then away, and she seemed suspicious of poor Drez.
Accordingly, they hadn’t discovered anything when Alfred came down the creaky stairs with Adelaide. She looked lighter, as if some of her turmoil and pain had washed off with the dirt and grime. Her dark green dress brushed the floor. Fitted sleeves covered her arms, but the wide neck left the tops of her shoulders bare. A silver cord tied around her hips hung down the front of the dress, swinging as she walked. She had pulled her hair into a thick braid that cascaded over her shoulder.
Drez nudged Regulus’ arm with his elbow. “Stop gawking.”
Adelaide swept across the floor and kissed Regulus’ cheek. “You can gawk if you like, piahre.” She stepped back to look him up and down with an appreciative smirk. “So long as you don’t mind me gawking in return.” It was difficult to restrain himself from kissing her in front of a tavern full of strangers.
The entire time Alfred and Adelaide ate, Regulus was acutely aware of the stares Adelaide received. Ladies didn’t frequent inns or taverns, so the patrons’ curiosity wasn’t surprising, but it put Regulus on edge. Especially the roving looks some of the more disreputable-looking men gave her.
The moment Adelaide and Alfred finished eating, Regulus rushed them out the door. They rode to the towering palace walls, where Alfred gave the guards his name and showed them his ring with his rearing unicorn crest. One of the guards led them inside the walls.
Compared to the palace gardens, the garden in Arrano’s courtyard was a peasant’s bean field. Trees Regulus had never seen within Monparth’s borders stretched toward the sky. Flowers in every color and shape with strong fragrances bloomed amid all the greenery that grew along winding paths of white stone. They passed three marble fountains, one with a woman pouring water from a jar over her nude body, another of three leaping dolphins, and one of a crane with its long neck extended into the air and water shooting out of its beak.
He glimpsed a chapel between the trees that looked more like a miniature cathedral with its high arches. White plaster covered the walls of the palace so that they shone in the light, even with the partial cloud cover.
The guard spoke to a servant who led them inside the palace. Rose marble bannisters curved next to granite steps covered with a long red carpet. The servant didn’t lead them up the steps, instead turning into a narrow hall to the right that ran through several rooms. Tall stained-glass windows of nature scenes, knights, ladies, and magical creatures illuminated each room. They walked through the first few rooms too quickly for Regulus to register anything other than each room appearing to have a specific color scheme and lots of opulence. Another red carpet ran down the length of the hall, through all the open doors.
The servant left them in a room with several plush armchairs upholstered in turquoise with bronze legs. A rug embroidered with a floral pattern covered the floor and a tapestry of a stag hunt covered most of the long wall opposite the windows, except for a plain door. A rose marble fireplace nestled in the wall to their right, a mantel held over it by two bronze statues of kneeling women in gauzy dresses. A huge painting of a noblewoman with rosy cheeks and a small dog at her feet hung on the wall opposite the fireplace.
Alfred sat in one of the chairs and Adelaide followed his lead, but Regulus felt awkward in all the finery and just stood near the empty fireplace with his hands clasped behind his back. Dresden was apparently fascinated by the tapestry and stood squinting at it.
After several minutes that dragged on, the door next to the tapestry opened. A thin, tall man in a deep blue doublet with silver embroidery on his belt, cuffs, and boots entered. He bowed as Alfred stood.
“Lord Belanger. I am His Excellency’s steward, Sir Michael.” Sir Michael clasped his hands in front of him. “I am told you are asking for an audience with His Excellency?”
“That is correct, Sir Michael.” Alfred bowed, but not as deeply. “I am afraid I come bearing grave news. It is a matter of life and death that I speak to His Excellency immediately.”
“Life and death?” Sir Michael raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps if I had more information—”
“The king’s life is in danger,” Alfred said, his tone sharp. “If you tell him I said so, I am certain he will want to speak with me. I must speak to him directly.”
Sir Michael looked uncertain. “His Excellency is quite busy. But I will pass on your message and see what the king would like to do.” He left, the door clicking shut behind him.
Adelaide sat on her hands and swung her legs. “Well. I don’t think we’d have gotten an audience with the king on our own, Regulus.”
“Seems that way.” Regulus pursed his lips. “Do you think he will listen?”
Alfred sat back down. “Yes.”
They waited for an hour. When Sir Michael returned, he threw the door open. Sweat glistened on his forehead as he motioned them through the doorway. “His Excellency will see you immediately.”
Regulus and Dresden looked at each other. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. Alfred had nearly given his life for the king’s father, after all.
Sir Michael rushed them down hallways with paintings of royals and showed them into a small room with no furniture save for an empty small wooden throne with red cushions. After collecting their weapons, the steward left them, closing the door behind him. Against the throne leaned a sword with a gold hilt formed in the shape of a dragon’s head in a scabbard of gold, ivory, and onyx.
Behind the throne, a floor-to-ceiling clear glass window illuminated the room. The fireplace to their right had a gold mantel supported by statues of gold dogs. A door opposite the fireplace opened and the man from the portrait Alfred had shown them walked in.
The king, like his brother, was short. No silver had yet touched his short brown beard. A simple gold crown sat on his head, holding his long brown hair in place. He wore a crimson cloak with gold edging over a black doublet embroidered in gold and black hose. Every finger bore a ring. Gold embroidered his belt and gold buckles shone on his boots.
Alfred dropped to one knee and bowed, and Dresden and Regulus did the same behind him while Adelaide curtsied low.
The door closed behind King Gawain as he walked to the throne. “Rise, Lord Belanger and companions.” Regulus waited for Alfred to stand first. The king sat down. “We are glad to see you, old friend.”
Alfred inclined his head. “I wish it were under better circumstances, Your Excellency.”
“Yes. Our steward told us you fear for our life.” The king rested his chin on his fist. “Explain.”
“Your brother is alive, Your Excellency. He has obtained a powerful magical weapon and plans to kill you at your birthday masque.”
King Gawain paled and leaned back in the throne. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and tense. “How do you know this?”
“My daughter and her betrothed have met him.” Alfred gestured back toward them. “And he told my daughter as much.”
The king shifted his piercing gaze to Regulus, then Adelaide. “Kirven told you his identity and plans?”
Adelaide offered another small curtsy. “Yes, Your Excellency.”
“And how did you come into contact with a sorcerer?” The suspicion in the king’s voice made Regulus wince. He stepped forward and bowed.
“Your Excellency, she met him because of me.”
The king raised an eyebrow. “And you are?”
“Lord Regulus Hargreaves of Arrano, Your Excellency. And for two years, I served the sor—Prince Kirven.”
King Gawain's expression turned cold. “He was stripped of his title.”
Regulus bowed his head. “He still fancies himself a prince. He did not tell me his name, but he called himself the Prince of Shadow and Ash.”
The king’s eyes widened, but he quickly recovered. “You served him? Why?”
“To save my men’s lives, Your Excellency.”
“And how did Lady Belanger meet him?”
Regulus winced. He knew this would come up, but it didn’t make it any easier. He glanced to Adelaide. “He needed a mage. He demanded I bring Adelaide to him to help recover a relic.” His collar suddenly felt itchy. “The last piece he needed to re-forge a powerful weapon, the Staff of Nightfall.”
“You are certain?” The king leaned forward, gripping the arms of his throne. “He has the Staff of Nightfall?”
“You’ve heard of it?” Alfred asked.
“Rumors. I thought it was a myth.” Regulus noted Gawain’s abandoning of the royal we. The king dragged a trembling hand across his brow and his eyes shot over to Adelaide. “Wait. A mage? You’re a mage?”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“Prove it.”
Adelaide held her fist out in front of her, her palm glowing a faint cerulean while she conjured a sword of blue-white light. The light sword vanished as she dropped her hand.
“Your name is Adelaide?” The king asked. She nodded. “Approach us, Adelaide.” Adelaide approached, her footsteps hesitant. “Kneel.”
She knelt, and the king stood and drew the dragon sword. Adelaide’s hands shook at her sides. Regulus reached for his own sword, but his scabbard hung empty and useless at his side. He stepped forward. Alfred stopped him with an arm against his chest. He looked at Alfred, panic clawing at his heart. Alfred shook his head, but his features were drawn and afraid.
“Lady Adelaide Belanger, as your king, we request that you join our personal guard,” King Gawain said solemnly. “We ask that you live and die to protect us. Do you agree?”
Wait, what! Regulus’ mouth fell open.
Adelaide looked up at the king. “I...”
“Your king requests it,” the king repeated with a stern expression. “Will you heed our call?” With a sinking feeling, Regulus understood. It was not a request.
“Yes, Your Excellency.” Adelaide’s voice quivered.
The king nodded. “Very good. Please repeat these words. I, Adelaide Belanger.”
“I, Adelaide Belanger.”
Regulus wanted to intervene. To pull Adelaide to her feet and tell the king he couldn’t force her into his service. But to do so would be treason. His hands fisted. The king continued, Adelaide repeating each line.
“Swear to uphold the laws of Monparth, and to serve my king and the royal family. My will and aim are now and forevermore to serve and protect the king.”
Adelaide swallowed, stumbling over the words.
An ache settled behind Regulus’ forehead. He was going to lose her. What if the king wouldn’t permit them to marry? What if he couldn’t even see her?
“I swear before the king, before Etiros, and before those gathered here,” the king continued, Adelaide repeating. “That I will give my life and death to protect the king of Monparth.”
Her shoulders dipped as she repeated the oath.
“Until my death or the king’s word release me.”
“Until...” Adelaide took a shaky breath and Regulus’ heart snapped in half. “Until my death or the king’s word release me.”
King Gawain raised the sword. Only now did Regulus notice the gold script running down the length of the blade, but he couldn’t make out the words. The king touched the sword to Adelaide’s shoulder. “We hold you to your vow, Lady Adelaide Belanger, member of the royal guard and shield to the king.” He sheathed the sword and let it fall against the side of the throne. “Arise, Lady Belanger.”
Adelaide stood and moved back. She glanced toward Regulus and Alfred, her eyes big as a frightened deer’s. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.
The king looked to Alfred as he sat back down. “Thank you, Alfred.” Then he looked at Regulus. “Lord Hargreaves. You spent two years in Kirven’s service. Any information you can give is desired.”
Regulus had to clear his throat before speaking. Anger at the king’s selfishness flared hot on his skin. King Gawain hadn’t given Adelaide any more of a choice in serving him than Kirven had given Regulus. “He was secretive and told me only what was necessary to fulfill his commands.”
“Why for two years?” The king strummed his fingers against the arm of his chair. “You said you served him to save your men. Did he capture them?”
“No...well, yes. He threatened their lives but released them when I agreed to serve him.”
“And you continued to serve him because...”
Because, like you, he puts people in agreements they can’t get out of. “He put a mark on my arm that bound me to him. It caused me great pain if I did not obey. And he could use it to control me. To force me to hurt my men. After he received the last piece of the staff, he released me for payment of the life-debt he claimed I owed him.”
“A mark?” The king leaned forward, curiosity in his expression. “Where? Show us.”
Regulus shook his head. “It disappeared when he released me, Your Excellency.”
“Hm. So no proof, then. Your story seems questionable. We wonder if we can trust you, Lord Hargreaves.”
Alfred answered first. “I assure you, Your Excellency, he is honest and loyal.”
“I have the scars to prove my story, Your Excellency.” Regulus hesitated. According to the laws of Monparth, he owed the king his allegiance and thus his complete cooperation and honesty. Even if he didn’t believe he owed this self-absorbed monarch anything. “And...I have another mark. One put there by Adelaide’s magic. It is different, but—”
“Show us.”
Reluctantly, he stepped forward and rolled up his sleeve. The king inspected the mark.
“Interesting. What is its purpose?”
“Protection and healing,” Adelaide said. “He was dying from a fatal stomach wound inflicted on him by Kirven’s lackey, Nolan Carrick. It was the only way to save him.”
“Carrick? The baron’s son?” The king frowned when Adelaide and Regulus nodded. “Troubling news indeed. Is the baron aware?”
“We do not believe so, Your Excellency,” Alfred said. “But I cannot say without a doubt.” The king stroked his beard.
The seconds dragged on while the king stared into the distance. Regulus rolled his sleeve down and stepped back, thinking about how underdressed and out of place he was amidst all the gold and splendor of the private audience chamber. It made him once again feel like a fake. A mercenary pretending to be a lord.
As if he suddenly remembered they were still in the room, the king looked back at Regulus. “Protection and healing? What does that mean?”
Regulus didn’t want to answer, but when the king asked a question, you answered, and you told the truth. “If I’m hurt, I heal. When I had the sor—Kirven’s mark, I couldn’t die. I don’t know if that’s the case with Adelaide’s, but it seems likely. I also have noted some increased strength.”
The king tilted his head. “Indeed. Lord Hargreaves.” By the glint in the king’s eye, Regulus knew what he would say before he said it. Resentment surged. “As your king, we request that you join our personal guard. We ask that you live and die to protect us. Do you agree?”
Regulus stiffened, his jaw clenching. So this would be his lot. He would exchange servitude from one brother to the other. One thing comforted him as he knelt before the king. At least he would be with Adelaide. He met the king’s eyes as he knelt, not caring if the king saw his fury. “I agree, Your Excellency.”
