The king signed two sheets of parchment and handed them to Fin and Brando each. "These certificates prove your titles. You may not give them away or sell them. Ordinarily, a new title would mean expanding the kingdom. But, under the circumstances, you may want to focus on your courtship with Dezi. I will assign you some guest rooms and a chaperone. We can discuss the future of Dragonthrone at another time, but for now, I need some rest."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Fin said, accepting his title. He thought he might hang it on his wall one day when he returned to a life of farming. "There's just one thing I feel I should say."

"Speak freely," The king said, showing only a slight hint of impatience.

"We killed all of the major threats in the mine, but it's possible there might be a cave troll or two hiding in there somewhere," Fin confessed under the exhausted gaze of the king. "I recommend sending in some swords before opening it up to the public."

"A wise plan," the king said. "Is that it?"

"There is something else," Fin hesitated before continuing. "There are these worms in there…"

"Ah yes, the worms." The king smiled. "Dezi told me all about them. I will take care of that now." He turned his attention toward the rest of the room and spoke in a loud voice, "We will need to do a clean sweep of the mine to verify that it is safe. Lord Walters, I am entrusting you with this responsibility."

"It will be done, Sire," An old man said from behind.

"Station guards at the entrance. Since we won the mine, I am claiming it from here on out. I do not want us to admit any dwarves. Today, Clive Rae becomes an independent kingdom!"

The room broke out in cheers and applause. The king waited for the cheering to die down and said, "Also, leave the giant ugly worms alone. They are under my protection. Now, I have pressing things to attend. Please stay and celebrate in my absence. I will send someone up shortly."

The king left, and immediately, the other nobles gathered toward Fin and Brando, offering congratulations paired with hearty slaps on the back.

"You'll have to duel me sometime," A tall noble said, swinging an invisible sword. "I want to see how I pair up with the champion of the mine."

"Me too," Someone else said from behind him. "I would like to try my hand at the champion."

"I don't know how well I would do in a duel," Fin began saying with the intention of backing out.

"If you want a real competition, you should try challenging him to an eating contest," Brando said quietly enough to not expect anyone to hear.

"What's that? An eating contest. How dastardly appropriate." A man from the crowd responded. "If he can outdo Sir Goyder, he truly is the champion. Do you think the king would mind too terribly much if we commandeered the kitchens?"

"It would be a shame if we came all the way up here and didn't stay for lunch."

"Who's Sir Goyder?" Fin asked, looking around the room.

Sir Jeffcoat set a hand on Fin's shoulder. "Someone you would have to be a fool to bet against. Congratulations, by the way. That went better than even I expected."

"Thank you for your help. I owe you one." Fin smiled. "Now let me return the favor. I wouldn't bet against me on this one."

The room erupted in laughter, but Fin held steady eye contact with Sir Jeffcoat. He gave a slight nod, signifying he had an extra fork up his sleeve.

Sir Jeffcoat laughed with the group but kept a keen eye on Fin. There was something about the man's confidence that shook him. "Who said anything about betting?"

"I'll bet ten bottles of my brother's wine on Goyder," Lord Walters bellowed.

"I'm afraid I can't back that bet." Sir Jeffcoat lifted his hands in surrender.

"I can." Fin reached into his tunic and unstowed the large, uncut topaz. He held it up for the old man to see. "It's a raw topaz."

"You carry that thing around with you?" Lord Walters asked, dumbfounded. "Where do you keep it?"

"In my pocket." Fin bounced the heavy stone in his hands to take the attention off his fictitious pocket. "It's a good luck charm."

The door to the room opened, and a grey-haired man with long arms entered the room and cleared his throat, "Drinks will be served in the Great Hall presently."

Conversations grouped off into pairs as everyone started filing out of the room. Fin and Brando followed behind until the man at the door stopped them personally.

"You must be the new Lord," The man bowed slightly. "You may call me Pike. Do you have a moment to spare?"

Fin and Brando stepped out of the doorway and waited for the man to continue.

"The king has informed me that you may want to get cleaned up," Pike said in a low voice. "I have assigned you temporary rooms in the east wing. I took the liberty of drawing you some baths. I am working on having a selection of clothes brought to you." He clapped twice, and a young man ran around the corner and stopped in front of them. "This page will help you navigate the palace, daily schedules, and the like. He will escort you to your rooms."

"This way, my lords," The page said, walking ahead.

When they reached their rooms, they found them side by side, each with a steaming bathtub in the center.

"Does every room have a bathtub?" Fin asked the young man.

"None of them do, My Lord," The page chirped. "We carry them up and fill them with pots of hot water."

"And when we're done with them, you just take them out?" Brando asked, glancing out the unending passageway in either direction.

"That's right, My Lord," The boy beamed. "Water first."

"What's your name?"

"Brixton, My Lord."

"Well, Brixton, you may call me Fin." He said, flipping Brixton a silver coin, hoping to buy the kid's favor.

"Thank you, Lord Fin," Brixton said, standing in the passageway. "I'll be out here if you need anything."

Brando hesitated at his door and cast a cautious glance around. "Fin, how long are we going to, uh, stay in these temporary rooms?"

Understanding that Brando was asking when they were leaving, Fin answered, "Let's eat and rest, then we'll take a trip into town. I'm sure the excitement will have died down by tomorrow."

They separated at went into their respective rooms. Fin's room was less ostentatious than he expected from a palace guest room, but it was still grander than he was used to. A four-post bed covered nearly a third of the room with its gaudy red, yellow, quilted blanket. The tub that sat in the middle of the room beckoned him from on top of water-splattered stone tiles.

Fin stripped his clothes off and stepped into the copper tub. The lukewarm water was wonderful in contrast to the cold stone floor. Fin sank into it, splashing water inadvertently adding to the shallow puddles around him. He was getting used to bathing in a proper bath. He wanted to incorporate it into his life outside the city of baths.

When he felt sufficiently clean, he looked around for a drying cloth. He was certain there was one lying around. When he couldn't immediately locate one, he decided to inquire with Brixton. The boy seemed eager to help, and he had already tipped him a whole silver coin.

"Brixton, is there something I can use to towel off?" He called from his tub. When the door opened, he started to repeat his question when he noticed it wasn't Brixton who entered.

Just inside his room, an elderly woman stood cross-armed, looking at him with an imperious glare. "I have retired your page and assumed his duties of looking after you. I am Isabel, your chaperone."

Fin thrashed in the tub to lower himself as deep as he could. "No thanks, bring Brixton back. As you can see, I'm a little indecent right now."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," Isabel walked unconcerned toward a large wardrobe and produced a towel from a drawer. "You'll have to get used to it, the king has ordered me not to let you out of my sight, and I don't intend to."

"Surely the king didn't mean to rob me of every measure of privacy." Fin's face was flushed, and he squirmed in the pool to find modesty through the translucent water. "It's not like you can watch me day and night."

"I take this responsibility very seriously. After all, the princess's honor is on the line." Isabel held up the white fabric. "I take it you don't want me to give you this?"

"I can get it myself."

"Suit yourself." Isabel tucked the towel back into the drawer and walked toward the exit. "I'll be just outside."

A knock came at the door just as she reached it. She swung it open humiliatingly wide and bid whoever was out there to enter.

A thin man stepped into the room carrying three sets of clothes. "The tailor sends his best with a selection of dinner wear."

Isabel peeled each set of clothes into her hands and scrutinized each. "He'll take this one, thank you."

"Wait, I want to see." Fin was beginning to feel upset with the woman. Who did she think she was barging into his room while he was bathing and assuming to select what he wore?

"Then come take a look." Isabel's wrinkly face creased in a smile, giving the slightest hint of jagged teeth. She didn't wait for Fin to respond before solidifying her selection and bidding the man farewell. She placed the yellow garment inside the wardrobe and left without another word.

Fin waited for the door to click shut before jumping out of the tub and creating a trail of water toward the drawer with his towel. Whatever escape plan he and Brando had, he was confident that Isabel would confound it.

Brando laughed when he saw Fin walk out of his room wearing yellow tights and a matching yellow tunic draped over his powder-blue, bunched-up, short pants. Fin mentioned how Isabel had picked it out and made a motion to convey she was likely the type of person to listen in on other people's conversations. They began speaking in code, or at least Fin hoped Brando understood his hidden implications as they were led through the palace corridors.

"She says she's here to keep an eye on me day and night," Fin whispered. Meaning, if we're going to get out of here, we have to figure out how to lose her.

"We had a chance to speak while you were getting ready. She's quite charming." Brando lifted a fist and feigned a punch forward. "Though, surely you don't need a chaperone when you aren't actively visiting with the princess, do you?"

I just met her, and I already hate her. If her only job is to make sure you don't seduce Dezi, then she should just as well go home.

"She took over Brixton's job of helping us find our way around and assisting us however we need," Fin spoke, moving forward with his eyes fixed on the woman's back. "We'll have to sort out a small problem of privacy. Other than that, I'm grateful for the assistance."

She's going to follow us everywhere. We'll need to sneak out of the watershed window if we have any chance of losing her.

"I was thinking about going into town after lunch," Brando pondered out loud. "Would you care to join me?"

Have you considered just walking out the front door?

"That might not be prudent, as you are a Lord who is courting the royal princess" Isabel raised a wrinkly, judgmental eyebrow over her shoulder. "Can you imagine? Stirring up intrigue so early in your career? I don't think the king would look fondly on the matter."

To answer your question, no, you cannot just walk out of the front door.

"Perhaps I will stay as well. There seems like a lot to explore here," Brando addressed Isabel, "I noticed a lot of naked statues around. Are they just for decoration, or are they in honor of someone specific?"

I have an idea. It's a long shot, but it's not like we have many options.

"Some are for decorations." Isabel gestured toward a chiseled statue of a woman in what appeared to be a nightgown. "Clive Rae the Second was especially fond of the more provocative pieces. Some statues outside are of well-known scholars, athletes, and some, the spiritually enlightened. Most of the statues are dwarven-made. I can take you on a tour if you are interested enough."

Clive Rae the Second was a philanderer, something I suspect is a quality you share with him. I dare you to accept my offer to ogle the statues and prove me right.

"A tour sounds like a great idea." Brando clasped his hands behind his back. "I would hate to waste a perfectly good opportunity to learn from someone so knowledgeable."

I hope you have strong legs, you old hag. I have a feeling we'll be walking everywhere together.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.