“You really don't seem to like Yale much.”
I asked Embla the question for two reasons; one, I was still nervous about returning to the palace and needed something to calm my turbulent thoughts. Two, I was genuinely curious about the guard captain's opinion of the spymaster.
I had detected no small amount of animosity between the two Nobles and my most recent interaction with the Lord of Xesden made me want learn about him. I couldn't dismiss the fact he was threat from my mind, even if I knew at some base level that he meant me no harm.
“I do not like Yale, Lord, but I trust him. That's all that needs to be said,” Embla replied stiffly as she walked beside me, eyes scanning the people that were going about their business on the Old Road.
The oldest road in Venos, or so the story goes. The Old Road was an uneven and barely functioning stretch of cobbles and dirt that hadn't been repaired since the first stone was laid. A local legend claimed that it was once known as the King's Road when it was first built. It was said to be the route that Gilderbrand himself walked on his way to the spires. His many followers had made the road to honour the founding of Venos and the man himself. Another version said that Gilderbrand drew his sword and marked where they would build the road with a single slash of his mighty blade. Not entirely unfeasible, given what I knew about Knights and Smiths, but more than a little unlikely. Especially since there was never any mention of Gilderbrand's Smith in those myths. I would have to ask Elora about that sometime. She would have to know the truth, being his direct descendant and all.
These stories were pretty enough and I had heard them told a thousand times in inns and ale-houses across the city. Usually to unknowing tourists who took the locals word as gospel and paid a few coppers for the tale, which I theorised was why they were conceived in the first place. To me, the Old Road had always been the best place to mark targets for pickpocketing. The Nobles and richer commoners rarely branched off it's course due to fear of the lingering shadows of the Commons alleyways and lesser known paths. Unfortunately for them, that sense of safety was exactly the reason it made such a fruitful hunting ground. They rarely checked their purses until long after they'd been robbed blind.
“Are you sure? You looked like you wanted to cut him in half. Hardly seems the way to treat someone you trust.” I pushed Embla further, needling the guard captain, noticing the tightening of her eyes and jaw in response. If she didn't want to answer then I wouldn't attempt to bother her further. I was just curious as to why she seemed to be so on edge around the spymaster.
I also wanted something to take my mind off the intense stares of those around us. If I had hoped for the attention I had been getting to wane after leaving the market, I was sorely disappointed. People still pointed and stared but at least I could keep moving forward and not dwell on the matter for too long. I still heard the whispered words of 'Scarred Knight' and the awe contained within continued to make me uncomfortable. Thankfully, Embla didn't shut me down and gave me something to focus on.
“I trust Yale. He just makes me uncomfortable,” Embla admitted after a moment of considered silence, “I always feel like he is playing a game. That he takes nothing as seriously as he should. Especially considering his influence and position in the palace.”
“I can understand that,” I muttered in response. I had gotten the same feelings from the Spymaster. He seemed to be enjoy being hunted, the thrill of the discontent that he said had captured Myrin and her upper echelons. He reminded me of myself in a way. Though, battle and the allure of it was what captured my attention most, not the political games and measured words of the Nobility. It was something I would have to learn about in due course, though. If I wanted to be with Elora, my path would inevitably lead to court. Most likely sooner rather than later, “I've been wondering: Isn't he a little young to be the Spymaster Royal?”
Embla nodded grimly, her hesitance in talking about the Lord of Xesden all the more apparent, “He is. In fact, he is the youngest to ever serve at the post. I've had many dealings with him in the past, usually when he informs of me of anything that could concern the Princess' safety. He is precise in his work and leaves nothing to chance. It is something I can appreciate. But the way he talks about neutralising threats before they begin to form... It is concerning and a little unsettling. He speaks of such things as though they are nothing but trifles, barely worthy of his attention.”
“Is that why you find him uncomfortable to be around?” I replied, understanding if that was the case. Embla was an honourable woman and one who based her life around her duty to the crown and Elora. I could sympathise if she wasn't particularly taken with assassinations and intrigue, even if it was necessary.
“Perhaps,” Embla shrugged, “I can see why such things are necessary, but there is no honour in the work of a Spymaster. Stabbing a man in the back before he can even be considered a threat never sat right with me. Better to do things in the open, where all can see.”
“Is that why he makes you uncomfortable? The way he deals with perceived threats?”
“That, among other things,” Embla sighed, “I trust the King and Queen implicitly and they wouldn't raise just anyone to such a demanding position. But if you work long enough in the palace, you begin to hear rumours. For one, no one knows Yale's precise age. He could be twenty or a young looking forty: No one knows for sure.”
“Then how do you know that he is the youngest to hold the post?” I asked.
“Because Yale himself says so.” Embla noticed my look and rolled her eyes, “I understand how that sounds, Lord, but I do believe this one to be true. The Spymasters who came before him were all older men whose days in the field were far behind them. Whatever Yale's true age, he is clearly still in the prime of his life.”
“Alright, then what else?”
“Before Yale, the title of Spymaster didn't hold as much political clout as it does today,” Embla replied softly, as though afraid that someone would overhear, “Granted, I only knew the previous Spymaster briefly but the difference between his word and Yale's is like night and day. While the gathering of information, assassinations and other forms of spy-work have always been important, there is an almost universal agreement among the Nobility that no one who came before is quite as proficient as Yale. The man was born for the job. Not to mention the fact that he is still breathing, which is a miracle unto itself.”
I looked sidelong at the guard captain, “How so?”
Embla snorted, “As you can imagine, being a Spymaster is not the most stable of jobs. The last, Baron Cune, met an unfortunate 'accident' when he took a tumble off his horse in the middle of nowhere. Strange thing was that he seemed to have fallen off his horse at least two dozen times, judging by the trauma of his injuries. No Spymaster has ever died in their bed. All of them have enemies and Yale most of all. The amount of people that want him dead would probably outnumber every other official in the Kingdom. He's been Spymaster for nearly five years and considering just how many times someone has tried to kill him, that is no small feat.”
“He seems the type to me. A survivor.” I said thoughtfully.
“Yes, he is that. Anyway, his increased access to the crown and to the inner workings of the Kingdom as a whole has always made me uncomfortable. He knows details of the Princess' schedule that only I do and I can't for the life of me figure out how he does it. I was concerned and so conducted a little unofficial investigation of my own into the man's past. As you are aware, I do not step outside my bounds on personal principle, but I felt Yale warranted further scrutiny.”
“He concerned you that much?” I asked, surprised at the guard captain. I hadn't gotten to know Embla until recently, but you only had to stare into her eyes when she talked of her position to know that she places duty to Elora and Venos above all other things, including her own life. For her to investigate Yale without the approval of the royal family showed just how much the Spymaster unsettled her. “What did you discover?”
Embla all but snarled as she stared into space, “Absolutely nothing. There is no history of a man named Yale ever serving in the military. There are no records of his existence in the House of Hymns, his name only mentioned in a handful of official documents and never in any meaningful capacity. For all intents and purposes, the Spymaster of Venos is a fiction.”
I found myself nodding along as Embla spoke. Her words didn't surprise in the least. After all, the thing that annoyed me most about Yale was his lack of... well, self. He didn't appear to be real, just playing a role and I was sure he had a thousand others on top of the one he used as Spymaster.
“The King and Queen aren't concerned about that? Did you mention it to anyone?”
“I brought it up with her Majesty one evening when I was giving my report on the Princess,” Embla replied, frustrated, “The Queen cautioned me against delving into the matter further. Yale was off limits, she said. It was an order from my monarch, so it could not be denied. Still, I sometimes wonder just who the man truly is.”
“What about Xesden?” I had never heard or been to the place, but if a Noble family resides there, records must be kept, “Surely you would find answers there?”
“I looked. I didn't find anything.”
“Surely there have been something? I know Nobles like to keep birth certificates and-”
“No, Lord, you misunderstand. I mean I didn't find anything. The Lordship of Xesden is a title that exists on paper, but no town or city in Venos has that name. Yale is the Lord of something that doesn't exist.” Embla shook her head, “I have long since doubted that Yale is even the Spymaster's true name.”
Spirit, that seemed to be taking things to another level. Playing a part is one thing, but even Yale's Nobility was a front to hide his intentions. It took a certain kind of ingenuity to build up something so encapsulating. I was beginning to think if I had never met the man in person I would have no way of knowing if he was actually real. In spite of all these lies and half-truths, the King and Queen trusted him which only caused more questions to be raised. I found myself sharing more than a little of Embla's curiosity now. What had Yale been before he walked the halls of the palace? I wanted to know the answer, but considering the man had so immaculately destroyed his own identity I doubted I'd ever get it.
“Now you understand why I say I trust him, but he makes me uncomfortable. It is difficult to fully rely on a man who is so mysterious. I have a theory that the Nobility are scared of you for the same reason.”
“Of me?” I knew that I wasn't a favourite among the Venosian elite, but them being afraid of me was a little bit of an exaggeration.
“Of course,” Embla said with a shrug. “You appeared from nowhere, much like Yale. You prove yourself more than your years would suggest and you have close access to the highest authority of the land. People fear change, Orin. This is as true for the common-folk as well as the Nobility. The Nobles fear you only because they don't understand who you are, or what you want. In their world, there are always conditions, always a motive. You are to be King of this country and they don't know what kind of ruler you will be. Of course it scares them. I myself am guilty of thinking the same.”
Embla didn't use my name often, usually insisting on giving me the title of Lord. But I was learning that when she did it usually meant she had something important to say. I thought on her words for a moment as we walked in silence. The whispers of the civilians passing us by falling away, along with the clank of Embla and her fellow guards armour.
I could understand what she was saying. Not knowing anything about Yale had put me on edge and it seemed she was suggesting my mere existence was doing that to the Nobles. It wasn't fair, but then I'd never really been treated fairly in my life. It all went back to what I had told Embla before: I needed to prove that I was worthy of being Elora's husband. I had dismissed the Nobility out of hand, believing that as long as Elora trusted me it would be enough. I was beginning to realise that wasn't the case. This country was more than the common-folk and Spirit knows I would need all the help I could get in the future. Even as King I wouldn't be untouchable. I needed friends, those I could trust. Elora and I alone were not enough to rule Venos. Even a monarch needed people by their side who they could rely on. I needed to get over my aversion to the Nobility and I felt I had already made strides in the right direction. My lip still curled at the idea of being looked down upon, but I could live with that. At least until I proved myself.
“Does that mean you think differently now?” I asked Embla as we neared the inner city gate. “About me, I mean?”
“I wouldn't go that far, Lord,” Embla cautioned as the guards waved us through into the inner city. I found it odd for a moment that we didn't have to pay the toll, before I chuckled to myself silently. I suppose such things don't apply to me anymore. “I serve you because the Princess wills it and her word is law in my eyes. But I can say that I am... more open after speaking with you. You have a long way to go before I will accept you over Cellus. He was born and bred for the purpose of leading Venos while you were not. I do not say this to offend, merely to state the facts. When we first met I thought you another Noble hating fool who had some small talent for the sword. Now I realise that you are more aware of your position than I had initially suspected.”
“Thanks, I guess?” I really wasn't sure what to say to Embla when she said that she wanted Cellus to be King over me. Part of me thought she was just dismissing me out of hand, without rally knowing what I could do. Saying that, I could definitely understand where she was coming from and, as much as I wanted to deny it, she was right. Cellus was born to be King and to be Elora's Knight. He had been trained for that sole purpose for years before I leapt onto that stage and challenged Craven to a duel. I needed to accept that, internalise it and try to improve myself. I had been approaching this whole King business wrong from the beginning. I needed to stick with something familiar, something I could understand. If I could compare it to anything then it would be to training with Boldrin. Right now I was at the beginning of a long journey to mastery and it was one that would take my entire life to achieve, much like the sword. I was willing to do it and if I could say anything about myself it was that I was a tenacious bastard. I looked forward to Embla one day saying she was wrong to doubt me. Though, considering my current relationship with the guard captain that also may take a lifetime to achieve.
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“You are welcome, Lord,” Embla quipped, completely disregarding my sarcasm. “We will be at the palace momentarily. I doubt that I'll be allowed to go into the meeting with you. I do not know what the King wishes to discuss, but I will urge you now to remember to show respect. He is the ruler of this Kingdom and has the ability to make your life difficult if he wishes to, even bound to the Princess as you are.”
I swallowed down a biting retort about how the King didn't show me much respect when he tried to take Elora away from me. I just about managed it, but a frustrated sigh still emerged and Embla no doubt took note of it. I knew that going into this meeting I had a purpose in mind. I wanted to try and repair the damage that had fractured Elora's relationship with her parents. My own relationship with them, I believed, was beyond saving. In my opinion, respect had to be earned, not just given out of hand because of your title. They had lost what little I had felt for them as monarchs when they had tried to kill me with the Severance.
“I'll try.” That's all she was getting out of me and she seemed to realise that as she nodded.
We walked through the square that had once been the scene of Elora's first wedding, looking so different now without the people and the stage. To think that it had been here that my life had changed forever. It made me strangely nostalgic for the times from before, when I was just a mercenary returning home after four years away, seeking only to see my mother and siblings. Now I was an Heir, Knight of the Princess and the future King of Venos. All I had been worried about back then was getting a job with the guard and settling down in the city. I suppose I was still settling down, in a way. Though marrying a Princess was definitely not what I expected upon returning to Venos.
I caught sight of something in the Commons, over the large wall that separated the amalgamation of wood and stone from the shining sights of the inner city. Something that made my influx of nostalgia all the greater. An old tower, one which dated back to the King's Night and the founding of the Peoples Collective. It had some purpose back then, though it was one I had either forgotten or didn't know about in the first place. Something to do with checking for fires maybe?. The only thing I knew for sure was that it was abandoned. Pater, Gertrand and I used to climb it's rotten wooden stairways to reach the top and stare out over the city. We would pretend that we were rulers of all those who walked below, the people seeming like ants from where we stood. We used to think that must've been what it felt like to live in the palace. A child's game and a dangerous one at that. The tower looked like it was about to crumble even now and I saw that at least part of the walls had begun to cave. The sight made me more than a little sad, considering how much fun we had in it as children. But it also gave me an idea.
“Embla, could you send someone back to the orphanage for me?” I asked the guard captain with a grin, coming to a stop, my eye still fixed on the distant tower.
“Lord? The Princess already knows where we are going.”
I waved a hand to cut her off, “It's not about that. I need someone to tell Elora to be ready to leave when I arrive home. She needs to wear some common clothes... maybe something to hide her hair.”
Embla narrowed her eyes at me,”Lord, what are you planning?”
“I believe I've come up with a fitting proposal gift. I'm surprised I didn't think of it before, to be honest,” I shrugged with a smile on my face. “It was your words about giving Elora what she already has. I think I have a solution.”
“And this requires her royal Highness to cover her hair?” Embla asked, looking a little bewildered.
“It does,” I replied, turning away from the captain to look at the distant tower once again. “Trust me, Embla.”
“I do not.” Embla stated immediately, before her expression softened slightly, “But I will do as you ask. Just know that whatever you have planned, my girls and I will be joining you.”
“I would expect nothing less. I would advise you to dress down: No armour and no weapons on show. We need to remain anonymous or this won't work.”
*
Embla and I had a brief but rather intense argument about what weapons she was or was not allowed to bring with us on our little excursion. I had tried to talk her down to daggers but she had immediately dismissed that idea and stated, in no uncertain terms, that while the rest of guard would be fine with small blades she would be taking her sword. I had tried to push further but she remained resolute and so I had been forced to back down. It wasn't like it was a deal-breaker. There was no shortage of female warriors in Myrin, though they were rarer than men, so she wouldn't exactly be out of place. I hadn't really thought about the difference until I had left Myrin with the band. In Andapa, for instance, women were not allowed on the battlefield. I believe it had something to do with their interpretations of the Great Spirit's works. They believed that since the Spirit was considered a masculine entity, men were stronger or some such bullshit. I'd like the guy who came to that conclusion to meet Tess. Watch as she bounced his head off the ground faster than he could blink. Other countries were strange. I respected their traditions, but I had always thought a lot of the cultural differences made little sense. Then again, Elora had told me that, as a Princess, she wasn't allowed the same freedom that was afforded to male members of the royal family. Shit, even her mother was constrained by those rules. Maybe Venos wasn't as far ahead as I thought.
As for Embla carrying a sword, it was pretty obvious why she would be so insistent. After everything that had happened over the past couple months I doubted that the woman would be too keen to part with her weapon of choice after finally reuniting with the Princess. I had been around enough warriors to know that failing at your job was something that cut you to the core. It had happened to me often enough in the band and even after Paldrum. You begin to question yourself, your abilities and your place in the world. I had spoken to a few others who felt the same and echoed my own feelings and I was sensing a lot of that in Embla now. The woman prided herself on being the Princess' protector. When Elora and I left the palace like we did, it had left her feeling doubtful of herself. Probably another reason why she seemed to be stuck to us all the way back from Paldrum. If that was the case, I could sympathise. I just hoped she managed to keep a low profile, like she promised she would. I had gone through my idea with her in it's entirety about seven times so she could ensure nothing would endanger the Princess. She had given my planned proposal her seal of approval, which for Embla was a slightly less ominous grunt. I was thankful for that. We had only really started to interact but I kinda liked the uptight guard. She had some sage wisdom about the Nobility, lessons that I surely needed now more than ever. Even if she was brutal in their delivery.
We had walked the rest of the way in relative silence after discussing my plans and soon the seat of power for the Kingdom of Venos came into sight. It was just as jarring as when I had last been, the glossy white marble of the huge and grotesquely extravagant palace a beacon to proclaim the power of the King and Queen, as well as House Brand as a whole. A power I had recently been able to see personally. I felt a hand unconsciously twitch towards my neck at our approach, feeling the black gauntlet of the Queen closing around my wind-pipe and lifting my battered and broken body into the air with ease.
I couldn't beat her in a fight.
It was something I knew already, of course. Something I had known since I first seen her fly out of Dunwellen on dark wings and begin destroying Knights like the were nothing at all. Much like when I had seen Vera fight, I had often looked back on that sight and tried to pluck any grains of knowledge I could to add to my own style of combat, but I always came up empty. The Queen hadn't wielded her Weapon when she was fighting in Dunwellen and, from where I was standing, she hadn't needed one. She was crazy and my loathing for her Majesty was pretty significant, but I couldn't deny her skill even if I wanted to. The problem with learning from anything she did was that she relied pretty heavily on her wings during combat. Whatever gave the power of flight was beyond the reach of Elora and I, at least for the moment. Maybe that would change in the future, but I found it unlikely. Elora had said that her mother and father were the only pair who could summon wings like that. I could understand why it was just a closely guarded secret. That kind of mobility would give any warrior a huge advantage and from the brief glimpse I had seen, it seemed Gida used that advantage to it's utmost.
I knew all this and yet I was still annoyed that I stood next to no chance of beating her. Even with Vera I was positive I could put up some form of defence, though I had only seen her fight properly once, with the brigade. But with the Queen I felt like I would be dead before I even moved, and that's considering Rionna and our Resonant Gift of Strength. My weakness frustrated me but I grabbed a hold of it and held it tightly. Throughout any interactions we had in the future there would be this unspoken threat lingering in the air. I was the lesser. She was the greater. There was nothing I could do about that right now, but it did make me want to double down on my training, to push myself further and faster than any Knight who came before. If I had the kind of power that Gida could utilise with a Smith I'd have torn apart Craven in seconds and maybe even given Jester a run for his coin, though the masked man was different matter entirely.
Embla and I passed through the gates without issue, though I did notice that one of the guards I had attacked to escape was on duty. He glared at me, though his words were polite and cordial. Maybe I should've offered him an apology, but I really believe it would come off as disingenuous. Besides, it seemed like he had already written me off as an enemy.
Not a great start to my new and improved attitude to be friendly and all, but what are you gonna do?
A maid met us at the gates, one I had never seen before and I tried to keep the disappointment in my chest in check. I had really wanted to see Beatrice and made a mental note to ask the King about her during our meeting. Part of me wanted to go and check on her right at that moment but I more important things to focus on. I'm sure I'd get around to seeing her at some point.
The gardens passed me by in a blur as I tried, and very nearly failed, to keep the panic from overwhelming me. I think my time as a prisoner, or 'guest', here might have messed me up more than I had first thought and the beauty around me couldn't distract me from the fact that this place was basically an impenetrable prison. Sure, Elora and I had escaped by taking advantage of a hole in their defences by scaling the wall but it wasn't like I could repeat the feat without the Princess present.
Thinking that, how did I even manage to get inside in the first place? Wasn't some kind of Inscribed mark needed to get in? I had passed through the gates without a problem so I assumed someone had already put one on me. I didn't really know how it presented, but after Tess showed me the marks on her skin I would assume it was just a lesser form of the same technique. Maybe Yale had touched me at some point and placed the access rune on my clothing? Fucking spies. I was almost positive that was the case.
The palace was a lot more active than it had been during my stay. Guards moved in steady patrols and more than one finely dressed courtier or attaché ran past Embla and I with not a glance thrown in our direction. It was actually kind of soothing. When I was last here I would be lucky to catch a glimpse of a maid as they moved sedately through the halls. In comparison, this almost seemed to be like the Commons market. No small feat considering the sheer size of the palace itself.
We were walking through an opulently carpeted hall filled with portraits and tapestries of times long forgotten hanging from from the walls when a large door to my right swung outward.
I had honestly thought the door itself to be another piece of art and couldn't help my eyebrows shooting up in surprise when it actually moved. The wood that made up the entrance was as black as the flames of my soul and intricately carved with all manner of images. Some were of soldiers riding into battle, others still clearly depicted Knights surrounded by a halo of power. So distracted was I by the sight of it that I would have knocked the now stationary maid down had it not been for Embla's strong hand on my arm, saving me from making a complete ass of myself. Six men emerged from within the bowels of the dimly lit room beyond. Without fail, each looked at me to the exclusion of all else. I found that I recognised two of the faces.
“This is the entrance the royal council,” Embla hissed in my ear, despite her not leaning in at all. Embla seemed to have the most remarkable ability to whisper without her lips moving. Handy trick to have. “Right to left is Lord Walden, Lord Asterd, Lord Elgard, Duke Brynyar, King Julian and -”
“Yes, I know Cellus,” I muttered back, not nearly as subtle as the guard captain who paled slightly at my disrespectful tone.
At least, she perceived it as disrespectful. I had already established that I wasn't that good with titles. Much like everything else to do with life in the palace, it was something I had to work on. I was not expecting the young Duke to be here. After all, wasn't he supposed to still be in Paldrum? Could he fly too?
My eyes found Cellus first but the young Duke made no attempt to meet my gaze. He did not seem as sure as himself as I had once thought him to be. He stared at a tapestry on the wall and his face was filled with... doubt? Regret? I was unsure and that made me uneasy. I had unconsciously tensed at seeing Cellus, expecting him to pull something like he did during my first meeting with Elora but that didn't seem to be the case.
“Ah, excellent. You accepted my invitation,” King Julian was the first to recover and walked away from the gathered array of men, his eyes twinkling and a smile on his face that I found I recognised. It was an exact copy of Elora's. Though perhaps it would be better to say that Elora's was a replica of her father's.
“Bow!” Embla snapped once again without moving her lips as she ducked her head and bowed to the King of Venos.
I did not.
The seconds passed us by and I stood firm, my one eye making contact with the King's and not backing down. An awkward expression formed on the King's face, as curious ones formed on the others who had emerged from the room. They expected me to bow before him? To lower my guard, to offer my allegiance? Bow to a man who had tried to take her from me?
TO TAKE WHAT WAS MINE FROM ME!?
The flames in my soul roared against the infinite black that surrounded them. The fire screamed, calling for blood, the pain of the Severance still fresh as the memories of the agony boiled up unbidden from those inscrutable depths. I clenched my teeth as hard as I could and slammed my fingernails into the palms of my hands. My soul called for the King's death. It craved it. But it wasn't in control. I was. I wasn't here for that. Not now. I was here for Elora, for her happiness. My soul could rot in the face of that.
Something flashed inside my soul when I thought that. Something that was a brilliant white, an endless ivory that seemed almost like a sun in the shadow of my soul space. I thought I heard a chuckle of approval, but whatever it was disappeared in the next instant as I focused on the task at hand. I must have imagined it.
I pushed down the violent thoughts that had sprung forth unbidden from within my mind. The King and the others present seemed to know something was wrong and I noticed two of the men, Asterd and Elgard, had taken a step closer to each other and were staring at me with wary eyes. A Bonded pair, and my end should I act on the emotions that ran through me at that moment.
I glanced at Embla and noticed she had also placed her hand upon her sword's hilt, looking at me, conflicted.
“My soul doesn't like you, your Majesty,” I said after a moment, ignoring the sweat that was pouring down my face. The exertion of taming the flames was more intense than nearly anything I'd ever felt before. Though it was nothing compared to the rage I felt when Elora had been harmed in the past.
“Is that so?” King Julian replied warily, his eyes flicking over to those standing behind him, “It is alright, Elgard. No danger here. Isn't that right, Orin?”
I grinned at the King, letting him see the anger I still felt for him in my stare, “Oh yes, Julian. No danger here. At least, not anymore.”
“You speak without thought, boy,” one of the men said in warning. He was large, nearly as big as Boldrin and his bearing and shoulders spoke to him as a warrior, “Show respect to your King.”
“Orin!” Embla hissed at me again, almost like she was begging.
“It is fine, Brynyar,” Julian said with a weak smile, “I'm afraid I deserve at least this much. Perhaps even more, I'm afraid.”
“A reaction from the soul at your mere presence.” Asterd was the one who spoke next. This man was dangerous, his very presence having the sharpness of a blade. He was dressed all in black and his eyes were the same, void-like and piercing. “I have never felt one so... alive. I can feel it's hatred. It screams for your blood, my King.”
Julian nodded in understanding. The guy in black, Asterd, must be a Smith like the King. They had soul senses and knew exactly what had just happened. The others tensed upon hearing Asterd's assessment and Elgard, the grizzled veteran, placed a hand on Asterd's shoulder as he stared at me. Even with Elora, I don't think I'd win that fight.
“As I said, it is deserved. If you would like to leave now, Sir Orin, I would understand. I know more than most that controlling the emotions of the soul is difficult. For me, it proved impossible,” Julian smiled bitterly, his mind going to days long past if his vacant expression was anything to go by, “I am sorry that things happened the way they did. I wish to speak with you on even footing. Not as a King and his subject, but from one man to another. My family depends on it.”
“That's why I came.” I replied shortly, ignoring Embla shooting daggers at me, “Just to be clear. I came for Elora, not to make friends. If you're alright with that, then we can speak.”
The worst was behind me now, thank the Spirit. I was used to the strange workings of my soul by this point but that had been something else entirely. The mere sight of the King was enough to make the flames of my soul boil. I also noticed that Cellus flinched when I mentioned the Princess and I felt strangely sad for the young man. I recalled what he had said in the garden when Elora and I escaped. Elora had said she had spoken with him about her feelings for me, but I can imagine how I would feel if it had been me and not him. Sometimes it takes a man to empathise with another and I could see how poignantly Cellus was feeling the lose of the Princess. I really didn't think that me talking to him would change anything though. After all, having the same guy who stole your fiancée away try to sympathise with you would seem empty and condescending.
“I can live with that,” The King said, his smile returning and reminding me once again of Elora, “If you will follow me, we'll go to my study.”
“My King, do you really think-” Brynyar began, his eyes not leaving me and the sword at his hip clenched in one massive fist.
“I do, Brynyar.” Julian stated firmly, “This man is my son-in-law and I owe him answers. We will be alone. Have no fear, I will be fine.”
The others looked like they wanted to speak up but an imperious glare from Julian was enough to silence their hollow protests. I found a hint of respect for the King inside me. He had just seen me almost lose my shit and very nearly give into the violent thoughts that had swirled inside my head, yet he appeared calm and composed. I was yet to take his measure, but I was at least a little hopeful that this didn't devolve into some kind of fight.
Knowing me, that might be asking for too much.
Julian smiled at me once again, his soft and warm eyes glittering as he stared me, “Then please join me, Orin. We have much to discuss.”