Seidrik locked his knees, though he knew it to be bad for his back, and stared out across the courtyard as the guardsmen ranked and filed for Stamel. In their golden finery and armor, it was hard to tell one from the other, and Seidrik only by virtue of his armor being shinier and more ornate.Ornamental.
“I put a sword in each of your hands the day we started training. I tested each of you, and you saddened me.” Stamel paced before the men, chin held high. His own armor gleamed and washed out the flame of his hair almost disappointingly.
It’d been a few weeks since the training started. Weeks of bland food and being ignored by his father and it had done no small wonder for his stomach. It cramped and revolted the bland, beige food. The soldiers, though, they had improved.
Stamel whipped around in place, sword drawn, and Seidrik acted on instinct, blade drawing mid-step to clang with Stamel’s. The style they taught him in academy was like his armor, for show, and he put on a good one, his step lithe and almost a dance with a blade. He was no match for Stamel’s brute force, but he kept the alpha at bay efficiently with a few shimmies of his blade and strikes, rattling his opponent’s hilt.
A swirl in step, cross of his legs, thrust, perry, and deflect had Stamel flustering backward, but not falling. Seidrik whipped his blade around and the motion of his body, the weight of his armor, and the glint of sunlight coming off all the panes of metal about made him stumble and fall back, clattering to the ground in a heap. “Fuck!”
Snickers and whispers came to an abrupt halt as Stamel whistled the men to attention. “His fall was not my doing!”
Seidrik took Stamel’s soon offered hand and stood, picking his sword up as he did so. “My apologies. I haven’t had good sleep, or perhaps it’s the weather.”
Stamel leaned in with a whisper. “Are you certain? Perhaps I should let you rest tonight rather than engaging you.”
Seidrik cleared his throat. “I’m fine. A misstep.”
“One that could cost you your life.” Alluin’s cold voice interrupted the training. “Son?”
“Apologies, Father.” He bowed politely and stepped back, tending to his sword as Alluin surveyed his men.
“Mm-hmm,” Alluin said, his mouth twisted into a slight sneer before transforming into a cordial smile. “Thanks to Stamel, I’m absolutely certain you did much better than you would have previously. And my men are looking more fit.”
The guardsmen tightened up their formation with a shuffle and earned a nod of approval, more than Seidrik ever got from Alluin. Not even on his nameday.
“There’s a reason why I came out here. I have to ask. We do not have many strong alphas in my ranks, not with thalms of your level. Would you mind, terribly, going to the southern border forests and speaking with the nymphs? We’ve had some mischief about with the crops, and I’ve not been favored by them since I was a lad. They chase me off and ruin my hunts if I even attempt to go out that way.” Alluin sneered as if nymphs had no right to protect their ancestral forests.
“I’ll need a fair amount of honey. How much depends on what you’re asking for from them.” Stamel folded his arms and spoke to Alluin as an equal,something that he’d slowly wormed his way into over the prior weeks.
“Mostly to quit freeing the flax sheep and picking the bellflowers before they ripen. The seeds are a staple here for us.” Alluin waved his hand as if the gruel those seeds made were some delicacies.
“Assuredly. Send Seidrik with me and I’ll speak kind words to them. With an offering of honey, they cannot refuse.” They’d been looking for a reason to escape out that way for days, as Seidrik needed to stretch his wings.Among other things.Fucking him had to be a quiet affair.
Tyran had come a few days after they left with his nanny, Kimbel with them. The young beta had been moved to a boarding school in Liaberos under the tutelage of the conservatory to work on his magic, as his thalms were considerably higher than that of the average citizen. Nineteen.
Seidrik spent evenings with Stamel and his son and found the little one quite endearing, if not prone to crying and homesickness.
Alluin broke Seidrik’s wandering thoughts with a snort. “Why bring Seidrik? It’s not as if they’ll respect him any better.”
Stamel changed his expression to something more serious as he approached Alluin with an apologetic expression. “Sir. You do realize that Seidrik has spent a large portion of his life cultivating a good relationship with the nymphs?”
The quiet tone kept people around from hearing it, and Seidrik tended to his sword, wiping it down with oil cloth at the sideline, as if he couldn’t hear it, either.
“Really? He’s not said a word about it. One would think they’d brag about that…” Alluin’s brow furrowed. “You’re certain?”
“Why burden you with something so simple? It’s no wonder the nymphs have caused chaos with him gone and overburdened. Allow me to help alleviate some of his duties. He already does too much.” Stamel gave Alluin a conspiratorial grin. “Honestly, he reminds me a lot of you.”
Alluin flustered for a moment and sniffed. “My duties do keep me busy.”
Like sitting in your study drinking and reading poetry and mandating new taxes?
“So, would it be too much of a trouble to take over some of his duties and have him attend with me? I’m sure he could talk the nymphs into sense more effectively than I. He even knows the honey they like.” Stamel cut his gaze. “Seidrik? What honey did you say the nymphs prefer?”
“Woodrose and amberfly,” Seidrik said, tossing it casually over his shoulder. If Stamel was putting on a show, so would he. “Is there trouble with the nymphs, Father?”
“I—they’re causing a bit of trouble for the farms. I’m not certain you paid attention to my earlier missive…” Alluin cleared his throat, expression going cold as Seidrik met his gaze.
“I try not to drop eaves on conversations that do not involve me.” Seidrik sheathed his sword and gave his father his full attention. “And you said the nymphs were misbehaving? Not like them.”
