The King was a short man, though none in the room would have told him that. Especially not Ripley as he stepped forward and kneeled before him. Around him there was a stir of colorful people, most dressed in the finest fabrics and jewels that Ripley had ever seen in twenty-three years of existence. Which was, to his credit, quite a bit.

“You are the hero of Sivri?”

Ripley hesitated. Hero was such a strong word. It held a lot of might and respect to it. Something Ripley neither deserved nor wanted to have. However, it wasn’t like someone could ignore a King’s question.

Instead Ripley cleared his throat. “If I might, your majesty,” he said. “I don’t deserve such a title, I merely helped where I was needed.”

The King seemed to like this as he let out a soft purring noise and chuckled. “Humble,” his majesty’s voice was almost delighted. “You are the person who took down the Beast of Sivri then?”

Ripley nodded. It hadn’t been so big a feat, the creature was smaller than many of the wild creatures he’d seen in his travels. Still, he supposed a hellhound was not something to scoff at. He could understand the reason people in Aluze gossiped in wonder about it and called him Hero. Demons didn’t often appear this far east.

“Then Hero is a title you deserve,” the King stated. “We in Aluze uphold our values of rewarding those who have done well. Name what you’d like.”

A wave of voices swept the hall, causing Ripley to wiggle in his place at the center of the hall. With his head still bowed to the King he couldn’t see much, just the few well dressed nobles out of the corner of his eyes. They fanned themselves, leaning in to talk while they watched him.

“I need for naught,” Ripley finally said. More voices, louder, echoed through the court.

The King did not sound as pleased when he spoke next. “You refuse the blessings of a King?”

“Not at all, Your Majesty,” Ripley’s heart skipped, “I merely have no need of riches. I am a traveling sword, My king. I must travel light and humbly, it is the way of my profession.”

“A sellsword,” The King’s voice was thoughtful, “That does make it difficult to bestow land or gold onto you.”

The court was filled with debate. Many offered up ways in which the King could bless Ripley. All seemed to not know the dangers of the road. One offered up a coin purse of gold, to which someone said he would be a target of bandits along the roads. Another was a new horse though this was also turned down as horses could only get one so far before they’d have to be traded out if he wanted to make any sort of longer journey.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“If I could, My Lord?” This was a voice Ripley had not heard yet. “If the Hero of Sivri is not opposed to it, I would place him in my own Guard. I travel often to foreign lands so it would not tie him to one place yet we could still offer him stable work.”

The King seemed to like this idea. “Are you opposed to taking up the title of guard,” The King asked. “In replace of the title of mercenary?”

Ripley straightened his shoulders. It would be a lie if he said he hadn’t dreamed of one day trading out his ways for something more honest. He’d taken up the trade because it was a way to make money off of something he was good at. Without family and no talent for bloodless trades like farming or smithing, it’d eventually become the only practical thing Ripley could do. Being in the King’s Military seemed too restrictive and no noble would take an untired sword at his side. Not that Ripley was untired anymore, it seemed.

“I wouldn’t if it meant I could still travel, Your Majesty.”

This sent the room into chaos, more than one lord stepping up to proclaim that they too would offer a place for the Hero of Sivri. It appeared that the appearance of a Demon that far east had stilled something in the Lords. A fear, perhaps. Having a tried Demonslayer in their guard would add a layer of protection. Not to mention the prestige of being able to fulfill the King of Aluze’s wishes by bestowing a title and job onto his current Hero.

The trouble became that the King had many offers. Whomever Ripley was bestowed too would be getting the King’s favor. Something that could cause issues for the King in the future given the unrest that had always littered the Kingdom’s history. Ripley lifted his head, eyes sweeping the halls as the King watched his nobles bicker.

“If I could,” a man said, stepping forward. “What if His Majesty placed the Hero into your own guard. I’m sure there is a position in which he could continue his travels.”

Ripley’s eyes moved to the King. He had leaned back in his chair since Ripley had taken his place before him. He elbow resting on the arm so that he could lean his head against his hand. His brown eyes fell on Ripley, studying him for a moment before nodding.

“Hero of Sivri,” he stated. “I would make you a member of the Royal Guard.”

Perhaps it was the way his stomach knotted from the anxiety of being before so many nobles, but Ripley felt the urge to rethink. He wasn’t an educated lordling who’d been knighted. Ripley was the farthest thing from it. He could read and write enough to take jobs but nothing more.

“Father,” all eyes shot to the space behind the King, “I’d like to offer my Guard for the Hero.”

The woman who had spoken stepped forward, her blue gown sweeping across the marble floor of the hall. They looked very alike, the King and his Daughter. Brown hair, though his was short and her’s was twisted into a braid down the side of her neck in elegant high fashion. They had the same eyes and the same nose. It was there though that the similarities stopped. The King was a short, rounder man. His daughter, however, had a thin and graceful frame. She walked as if she were floating as she came to a stop beside her father. Their eyes met before she turned her gaze to Ripley.

“I often travel as ambassador of the Crown,” she said. “Especially to the west where demons are more common. Many of my guards have faced off against such creatures so he might not feel so ostracized amongst them.”

The King’s face masked with something unreadable. Then, with a swift movement, he rose and paced toward Ripley. In his stride, he removed a sword that had been sitting in the hands of an attendant not far away. The sword was used to tap Ripley once on the head before the King laid it on the ground at his feet.

“Rise, Sir,” The King’s voice was commander, “From this moment on you will be sworn to the Guild of the Crown’s Command and be placed under the hand of the Princess. I trust you to guard her well.”

Ripley’s eyes flashed to the Princess, who stood behind her father at the throne. A small, accomplished look masked her face as she met his eyes. The smile that graced it spread into that of a smirk. Though Ripley had no time to think as he grasped the sword and rose at the King’s order. He knew he’d said he would become a guard at the understanding he’d still be able to travel. However, the look on the Princess’ face made his stomach flip. Something told him that his life would not be easier under his new profession.