Chapter 32
Vern
He was woken by a knock and an irritatingly cheery voice.
“Lord Steward, you wouldn’t happen to have a moment to catch up? Or did our dear general mention my run-in with the Gamuths already?”
Before the blathering fool shouted his news for the entire wing to hear, Vern opened his door.
Darius perked up. “Oh, good morning, Vern!”
“Report.” He moved past the young lord, intent on breakfast and beginning his tasks.
“Yes, of course. Nothing from Trish, then, I take it. Well, first week out, one of the terrible Gamuth ladies leashed me. She claimed to be drunk. A mistake.” He wiggled his brow at Vern.
Vern frowned. The Gamuths didn’t act without Satryani’s approval. Leashing an Escort was never a mistake. It had been a test.
The other man waved a hand dismissively. “I handled it, of course. The guards did their jobs, but no one’s hands were cut off. Nothing so drastic for the Queen to smooth over. Just a routine whipping.”
Darius’ lips thinned. He peered at his nails as though he found the dirt beneath them distasteful – except the man kept fastidious care of his hands, and every one of his fingers were perfectly clean.
The young man hated whips, never touched one if he could help it. He would have had to make a point this time.
Almost gently, Vern asked, “Any other incidents?”
Darius lifted his head with a bright smile. “None along that particular flavor of idiocy. The lady couldn’t sit properly for weeks. Embarrassing. Although, I think she rather liked–”
Already regretting his moment of pity, Vern gathered food from the courtyard and interrupted, “Have you seen Lady Madeline?”
“Maddy? Oh, yes, she left the wing an hour ago. As I was saying, the lady–”
“Where was she going?”
Darius tilted his head. “I don’t know. She had guards with her; she should be fine.”
After his ‘run-in’, the young Escort should know better, but Vern had been hopelessly expecting sense to enter Darius’ head for many years. He set down his plate, drained a glass of water, and said, “Find something useful to do with yourself, boy.”
Darius grimaced. “Yes, fine. But I should warn you that Satryani has not been idle. Many, if not all, of the nobles have sent soldiers, gold, or both to bolster her army. My father sent a letter suggesting I reconsider my loyalties. They like how she dealt with the Nadrakens. Be careful, Vern.” He wandered off mumbling something about, “waking up on the wrong side of the bed”.
His bed was set against the wall. There was only one side to wake up on. And he'd tossed ‘careful’ out of the window by confronting Satryani directly. Darius only confirmed what Thakris had outlined.
He touched his pocket, crinkling a letter as he stopped a servant. The letter was not important, but Madeline leaving the wing bothered him.
The servants were better informed. “Sir, Escort Madeline said she wanted to breakfast at the Great Hall.”
Vern nodded his thanks.
Madeline had not once in her entire life voluntarily taken a meal with the courtiers.
Checking his weapons and bracers, Vern exited the wing with two rose guards in his wake. He'd never admit that their presence set off his instincts. His instincts simply needed to adjust. He refused to allow guards wearing helmets to trail him, though. If he couldn't confirm their identities at a glance, one of them might find a knife in their throat.
The hall was quiet. This early in the morning, most of the nobles were asleep. However, the Great Hall was never empty. Today, it was fuller than usual – a few dozen rather than a few.
Duchess Satryani sat on the throne. The dais was cleared of all other chairs and tables. She was the only figure on that platform, with her guards standing below and to the side. Her arm draped on the seat, the emerald-gold bracelet in full view of the court, but not a single rose petal adorned her today. There was only one problem.
Kneeling in front of the dais was Madeline.
Her rose guards were held back by the duchess’ personal guards. Five of them stood in a line behind her.
