“Where have you been? Your shift started ages ago!” Jeffrey demanded before Kieron was even close.
“I’m sorry, Tiras. The marshal wanted to see me before my shift. I couldn’t get here faster.”
“The marshal, what did he want with you?”
“Private business. Tiras, I’m sorry. What happened with the Prince?”
“He’s inside, with company.”
“Oh, I see.” Kieron paused, his head cocked to the side as he looked at Jeffrey. “Tiras... I’m not sure how much you know about my culture, but I can help if—”
“Don’t!” Jeffrey’s interrupted, his voice heated. “I know what you’re implying, it’s not what I need today.”
“You needn’t be gentle, Tiras,” Kieron said, a smile playing on his lips, his eyes shining with eagerness.
“You’ve asked around about me. That means you know what I’m capable of. In my current mood, I would rip you to shreds, Trian. Not today.”
“Yes, Tiras. The offer stands, any day you wish.” He smiled shyly, looking at Jeffrey from under lowered lashes.
Jeffrey did not smile back. “Good night, Kieron.”
Knocking on the marshal’s office, he received no answer. He tried the door and found it locked. Realising the late reach of the hour he figured that everyone must have gone to bed already. Knowing he would not be able to sleep in his current state, Jeffrey went into the training yard and picked up one of the practise weapons. He started laying into one of the poles stuck in the ground, expending the entirety of his frustration on it.
When he felt utterly spent, all of his emotions let out on the pole, his skin soaked in sweat, his muscles sore and burning, he stopped.
Dropping the weapon back onto the pile he had taken it from, he left the yard and headed for his bedchamber. In the end, the strain of the day’s events had him asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
Chapter 4
Waking from a restless sleep, Jeffrey groaned as the memories of the previous day returned. His eyes were dry and unfocused when he opened them, his body heavy with exhaustion. It took considerable effort to heave himself out of bed. The clock on his bedside table told him he would soon be late for his shift.
After the previous day’s events, he decided he didn’t care. Kieron had been late too, he could wait for Jeffrey this morning. First order of the day was a visit to the marshal. This time, he was in his office and apparently unsurprised to see Jeffrey.
“Sir, with all due respect, you must find someone else to take my place. I cannot possibly work for the man.” The memories from the previous night lingered in Jeffrey’s mind and he saw no need for beating around the bush.
“Do you think you are the first person, to come in here after day one to makes this demand? What do you think I told your predecessors?” The marshal spoke with a calm but hard voice.
Jeffrey sighed. “That you had already found someone to take their place?” he asked in a hopeful voice, knowing full well that his hope was futile.
“The Prince does appear to enjoy playing games with his new guards. He tends to settle down the longer you stay. I suggest you don’t give him reason to keep playing games. The less he enjoys toying with you, the less he’ll do it.”
“So, head down and get on with it.” Jeffrey’s shoulders slumped, the fight he’d been preparing for leaving him.
“Precisely.”
“What’s the longest someone lasted in this?”
“Are you looking for a challenge?”
“I was thinking hope. If someone else can endure him for a month then so can I,” Jeffrey said with a shrug.
“Three years,” the marshal replied, his voice making it clear he was not joking. “He would still be guarding him, I believe, only he died protecting the Prince.”
“Three years,” Jeff repeated unbelieving, yet impressed. “Talk about a challenge. How did he stand him?”
“I believe the two had forged a friendship of a kind.”
“Hard to believe that’s possible.”
“You are talking about your future king, you do realise?” The marshal raised an eyebrow at Jeffrey, the infraction hanging in the air between them.
“I do, Sir, which makes the whole thing so much worse. How are we going to cope with him as a king?” Jeffrey knew well he was being improper, likely breaking protocols with the way he spoke. He’d never cared before, he wouldn’t start now. The marshal seemed to understand him more than most.
“The ascension tends to change a person. Besides, he’s not as bad as you make it out. Give him a chance.”
“I thought I had yesterday... What if I just quit?”
“That would be considered desertion. As would running away. And if you simply don’t show up, it would be considered abandoning your post and endangering the heir to the throne. Any of these could have you executed.” The marshal paused, looking at Jeffrey with a calculating gaze. “If anyone can handle him, it’s you, Jeffrey. I have faith in you. Now go to your post. You’re late.”
“There’s one more matter I need to discuss, Sir.”
“Make it quick.”
“I’m assuming the Prince will be attending the servant’s punishment. For his safety, someone else will need to guard him at that time.”
The marshal’s gaze rested on Jeffrey, his expression unreadable. “Others would throw you out for even asking. But you’re not making this request lightly.”
“No, Sir, I will not be able to perform my duty to keep him safe. Someone else must do it.”
The marshal appraised Jeffrey in silence. Then a gentle voice. “How many times have you been flogged, Jeffrey?”
Taken aback by the question, Jeffrey’s body tensed, his hands forming fists. “I did not keep count, Sir,” he said calmer than he felt. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady himself.
The marshal’s gaze never moved, his eyes narrowed. “How many times were you asked to observe another’s flogging as a form of punishment?”
Jeffrey closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Quietly he said, “Too many, Sir. I should not be present...” Silence stretched on. “Please, Sir.”
“Your training isn’t complete. There are many things you still need to learn. If you use the time as I instruct, I’ll cover the Prince.”
“Thank you, Sir. I’ll do anything you ask,” Jeffrey said, relief heavy in his voice.
“Go start your shift.” The marshal ended in a no-nonsense voice finishing their conversation.
Jeffrey saluted and left, heading for the Prince’s quarters.
***
Footsteps approached as Jeffrey stood outside the Prince’s study. He’d been bored and needed distraction, so he’d pulled a knife from his belt and balanced it on the tip of his finger. He glanced at the person approaching, the fancy clothes easily identified him as noble. He continued balancing the dagger, lifting his hand a little. He let the dagger fall and grabbed it out of the air. He took a step to the side, blocking the door. His head turned towards the approaching noble, a loose-fingered hold on the knife as he slapped the blade against the palm of his left hand.
The noble stopped in front of Jeffrey, looking at him expectantly.
Jeffrey returned the look, letting his gaze take in the noble’s appearance. The favoured fashion among the courtiers was typically modern Corunian designs with straight lines and edges in the cut, intricate and elaborate patterns, the fit elegantly close. The man in front of Jeffrey wore the traditional western fashion that favoured puffed sleeves and trousers, the jacket so loose fitting it looked too big on his slender form. The chequered patterns contrasting oddly and making him look years older, though Jeffrey guessed him to be close to the Prince’s own age, early twenties. He had the pale coloured skin common among the nobles, but his eyes hinted at a more mixed background, they were wider, a little slanted, the colouring the dark chocolate-brown of the west. His dark brown hair was long and curly, also in the western style.
“The Prince requ
ested to see me,” the noble said when the silence stretched on.
“And you are?” Jeffrey asked indifferent.
“Lord Lucretius.”
Jeffrey let his gaze sweep up the man again. “Wait here.” He turned around and opened the door, closing it quickly from the other side. “Your Highness, apologies for the interruption, there’s a Lucretius here to see you. Says you requested to see him.”
“Lord Lucretius?” The Prince asked back.
Jeffrey remained quiet, his courtesy did not extend to people he did not directly work with.
“I’m glad he made it after all. Send him in.”
Jeffrey bowed and left the room, keeping the door open and gesturing at the noble stood waiting. “You may go in.”
“How generous,” the noble said as he pushed past Jeffrey. “Your Highness.”
Jeffrey saw him bow to the Prince, who responded with the same level of formality, but his blue eyes shone with recognition and happiness. Closing the door slowly, Jeffrey glimpsed the Prince rise and move to embrace the noble, familiarity in both their actions.
***
The sun had moved halfway across the sky and servants came to bring the Prince’s lunch. Jeffrey let them in and only moments later heard shouting start. The Prince’s mood had worsened considerably since the morning and it appeared he was letting it out on the servants, again. Jeffrey wanted to go inside and intervene but expected it to only make things worse. He was still debating the matter when he heard the clicking sound of a noble’s heeled boots, he looked up to see Ignacio.
“How long has this been going on?” Ignacio asked, nodding at the door from where the Prince’s voice came.
“My Lord. It’s been a good while now, since the servants entered really.”
“He had a visitor in the morning?”
“Yes, my Lord. His mood worsened afterwards.”
Ignacio nodded and took a deep breath. He gestured at the door and Jeffrey opened it for him. “Out, all of you,” he said in a hard and commanding voice. Jeffrey shivered at the sound, it reminded him of someone he once knew.
The servants looked at the Prince who ignored them. Without a counter order, the servants hurried out. Jeffrey noticed one cradling his cheek, another with tears in her eyes. They were running down the hallway to get away before they could be called back.
Jeffrey closed the door, pausing when he heard Ignacio speak again.
“What’s going on, Akoni? No one but Jeffrey heard, he already dislikes you enough, there was no need for this.”
“Oh, Nace,” came the Prince’s pained reply, hands tugging at his own hair. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“The meeting with Lucretius wasn’t successful then?”
“Not in the least.”
Jeffrey closed the door fully, not wanting to eavesdrop. He was amazed at how easy it seemed to have been for Ignacio to calm the Prince, to stop his shouting. Instead, the Prince had become a different person, conflicted and insecure even. It was a strange thing to witness.
***
“Jeffrey,” the Prince said as he left his rooms, his voice quiet and neutral. “I’m headed for the gardens to meet Lady Xandra. You will need to stay in line of sight while providing privacy. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Highness, I’ll stay well back.”
“Good.”
The Lady already waited for the Prince, lingering on her own by a fountain, watching the birds dipping in and out. Jeffrey stayed at the edge of the court, as the Prince stepped closer to her. They embraced, the Prince kissing her cheek. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, her hands touching his arms. He took her hand, hooking it into his elbow. They walked the garden paths slowly, chatting easily, as far as Jeffrey could tell.
Jeffrey remained a considerable distance away. Always keeping within sight but out of earshot. His attention swept across the gardens, noting other visitors, servants or otherwise. The Prince and his company were quite the attraction. Servants would slow down when they noticed the pair, trying to get a glimpse of the royal and who had caught his attention, but they always hurried away again to continue their duties. Nobles were less distracted. They’d stop and stare without trying to hide it. While they never intruded, they moved as close as they respectfully could.
The gardens were large and well maintained. There were different sections from fountains surrounded by trees, to paths lined with flowerbeds and even little forests. Jeffrey knew of a labyrinthine section, where the line of sight broke fast and easily. If the Prince had wanted to be alone, he could have headed there. But instead, he stayed on paths where he remained mostly well visible. It seemed like he intentionally put on a show for the other courtiers.
Either the Lady Xandra was part of the play or oblivious to it. Or maybe she simply knew it was part of the deal, her gestures attentive and flirtatious. Little touches and looks she gave him revealed her intentions to any and all onlookers. The Prince appeared responsive to some of it but less intense than her.
Jeffrey remembered the previous night’s events. The way the Prince’s gaze had devoured Jeffrey. The way he had behaved with his visiting diplomat. Xandra did not receiving the same level of attention, whether because of a lack of wine or more control on the Prince’s part, Jeffrey couldn’t tell. Was the Prince simply someone that took his pleasure when and where he could get it? Or had last night been a passing fancy while the Lady was a possible future prospect of more permanence?
Voices drifted to Jeffrey. He stood near a group of trees, the speakers on the other side. They couldn’t see him yet.
“Their action would be endearing if they weren’t so fake.” A female voice.
“It’s disgusting really, how he leads her on. If he cared, he should have proposed by now. The King approves so what is he waiting for.” A male voice.
“He’s too distracted with plebs again. That new guard of his, I would bet on it.”
“We all do it. It’s an honour for them plebs to get to serve us that way but he gets too absorbed in them. He should be thinking of an heir if nothing else.”
“His father is strong, and he is young yet. There’s time for that. But what he’s waiting for... who knows.”
“It’s disgraceful behaviour for any noble, but as Prince...” the man trailed off.
They had rounded the trees and came face to face with Jeffrey. He spared them only half a glance, two nobles, dressed as decadently as all the other highborn visiting the garden.
“I see,” the man said. “Yes, it would be rather distracting to have that around all day. Well, it’s not likely to last long, never does after all.” He stepped closer, stopping right in front of Jeffrey, appraising him. “A temporary diversion, that’s all you are. A pet for him to play with. I hope for your sake you know that. When he tires of you, if you’re allowed to stay at the palace and you’re looking for some real fun, come find me. I’ll make sure you’re well looked after.” The man lifted a hand to reach for Jeffrey.
Instinct made Jeffrey want to reach for the dagger at his belt, but he forced it away. Instead, he stepped backwards and moved a few feet away, his eyes on the Prince. The two nobles laughed and walked away, sneering at Jeffrey. He pretended not to hear them, his face kept blank the entire time. He’d learned long ago to ignore petty nobles thinking themselves better.
He’d been on too many assignments working for arrogant men, claiming superiority because of an accident of birth, making demands and claiming rights they should never have, expecting gratitude for tolerating the presence of low born men. If he didn’t need to take orders from them, they were easier to ignore but it rankled him more than he would admit. What right did they have to hurt and abuse others, just because they had less money or less family history? In another place, he might have drawn the dagger. But here at the palace, after the events of recent days, it was too foolish even for him.
A messenger, wearing the crown’s livery approached. Jeffrey noticed him well before the Prince did. Si
tting on a bench with the Lady Xandra, they were deep in conversation. The well-trained messenger approached only far enough so he could enter the Prince’s line of sight. Then he waited. The Prince seemed to notice him but continued his conversation for some time. When he gestured, the messenger approached hurriedly. Words were exchanged, a letter handed over. The Prince stood to read it. After folding the letter back up, the Prince turned to the Lady and bent down to kiss the back of her hand. Then he leaned in closer. Whether he kissed her cheek again or whispered into her ear, Jeffrey couldn’t tell.
The Prince hurried away, walking towards Jeffrey. They exchanged no words, the Prince simply hurrying back into the palace and to his study. The same messenger as before returned to the Prince’s study. Then Ignacio also arrived.
They remained inside the Prince’s study until Jeffrey was relieved for the day by Faruk, the Queensguard he’d met the previous night. Faruk’s silver cape replaced by a green one, his armour still that of the Queensguard, a silver metal plate covering his chest, his greaves and bracers reinforced with silver, glinting metal.
***
After leaving Faruk to cover the Prince, Jeffrey headed straight to the marshal to continue whatever training he still needed to get. The marshal had Jeffrey studying protocols, royal customs, correct titles of address and all kinds of other trivialities that Jeffrey found tedious, boring, and unnecessary. But he was familiar with much of it and they got through it at a fast pace.
“May I ask you something, sir?” Jeffrey asked.
“That is largely why we are here, for you to ask questions and learn.”
“Yesterday when the Prince went to the Queen’s chambers, I saw her guards standing at various corridors leading in and out of her apartments. Aside from the group guarding her person, she seems to have men guarding her rooms at all times.”
Ties of Destiny (Curse of the Crown Book 1) Page 5
