by Rachel Aaron
Applause erupted throughout the court, but the noise rang hollow in Eli’s ears. No one looked particularly happy. Not the couple, and certainly not the party of large, blond gentlemen in rich suits standing across the aisle.
The room fell silent again as the queen raised a skeletal hand. “The royal couple will now perform the Proving,” she announced. “Clear the hall.”
“Clear the hall!” The cry went up as the guards began directing people to the edges of the room.
Eli glanced around in alarm. Up by the throne, the prince and princess separated without so much as a glance, Adela down the stairs toward the back of the room, Josef back toward Eli with a glum look.
“What’s the Proving?” Eli hissed when Josef reached him. “You didn’t say anything about any Proving.” He looked sideways at the large, clear space that had formed at the center of the room. “Is this like the first dance, or something? Is her father going to give her away?”
“Adela’s father is dead,” Josef said, plucking knives out of his clothes and handing them to Eli. “And the Proving is an old Oseran tradition.”
“Right,” Eli said, taking the knives with trepidation. “So like a dance with quaint folk music?”
“It’s not a dance,” Josef said, lifting the Heart from his back and setting it gently against the pillar. “It’s a duel.”
“A duel?” Eli said, more loudly than he would have liked. The comment drew several nasty looks from the people around them. Eli gritted his teeth and dropped his voice. “I thought you just got married?”
“We did,” Josef said, checking the short sword at his hip. “This is the next part of the ceremony. It’s the duty of all members of the royal family to protect Osera. So whenever someone in the family gets married, both husband and wife have to fight a demonstration duel to prove they are capable of holding the throne.”
“Holding the throne?” Eli said. “What century do you think this is? Are you going to drag her to the marriage chamber by her hair next?”
“Osera is an old country,” Josef said. “My grandfather nearly killed the woman who was to be his first wife. Stabbed her twice before sending her away for being too weak.”
“That’s horrible,” Eli cried.
Josef shrugged. “That’s how things are here. But don’t worry, I won’t hurt Adela. I’m just going scare her into an honorable surrender.” He grinned, patting the sword at his hip. “Shouldn’t take long.”
In anyone else, Eli would have called that remark arrogant, but this being Josef, Eli had to spot him that one. “Try not to embarrass her too badly,” he said. “Remember, our getting out of here depends on your mother getting her grandchild, and that’ll be a little difficult if your princess is making you sleep on the floor.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Josef said, walking through the parted crowd.
Eli bit his lip and followed, clutching Josef’s cast-off blades to his chest. Adela was waiting for Josef at the center of the makeshift dueling arena. She was flanked by two armored men, one young, one gray haired. Both looked unhappy, but the princess was smiling. She turned to her escorts and whispered something that made them smile as well before they stepped back, leaving her alone at her end of the cleared hall. The princess turned to face Josef as he moved to take his place opposite her, drawing her heavy short sword with a metal hiss as she took up her position. Josef drew his sword as well and stopped in a stance Eli recognized: first position, the root of swordsmanship.
The queen looked down on the combatants from her throne, her wrinkled face like a crumpled paper mask. Only her hands betrayed her true feelings. They were knotted in her lap, the heavy rings biting into the taut skin of her fingers as she lifted her chin.
“Begin.”
The word was scarcely out of her mouth before Josef sprang forward. The crowd gasped, and even Eli stepped back. Josef charged like an avalanche, enormous and unstoppable with his sword flipped in his grip, the flat of the blade already whistling down to strike Adela’s sword hand.
If Eli had not spent years watching Josef fight, he would have missed what happened next. As it was, he still wasn’t sure how it came about. One second, Josef was perfectly on target, the next, Adela was behind him, her feet turning neatly as she slid around his blade.
Josef turned as the lunge carried him past where her hand had been, throwing his weight to bring his sword up in time to catch hers before it landed in his back. Their blades crashed in a shower of sparks, and Josef stumbled at the impact. Eli caught his breath. They were fighting with infantry short swords, so they were very close. That left little time to react to a strike and less to dodge. Adela had done both and come around with a counter. He could see the same thoughts on Josef’s surprised face as he fell back, catching himself at the last moment with his free hand. The second his fingers touched the floor, he pushed up, forcing Adela back with his superior height and breaking their lock. The princess retreated neatly, letting her sword follow the force sideways and down for a blow at Josef’s side. But surprise attacks work only once. This time, Josef was ready. He parried her blow with a dip of his blade and stepped in, slamming his shoulder into her chest. Adela grunted and fell, landing hard on her back with a clatter of metal. Josef followed her as she went down, planting his feet on either side of her body and placing his sword’s point on her exposed neck.
Adela held up her hands immediately, and the crowd began to applaud. The duel was over. Josef had won. Josef stared at the downed princess a moment longer before swinging his sword away and offering his hand. Adela took it, and he pulled her up. The applause died down as they walked through the throne room and up the dais stairs to stand again before the queen.
“The proof has been made plain,” Queen Theresa announced, smiling widely as prince and princess took their places at her side. “Both have shown before all they can wield a sword in Osera’s name. The bond begun a year ago is now complete. Bow before your prince and princess.”
The room filled with the rustle of silk as the crowd obeyed. Eli bowed as well, but he kept his eyes on Josef. The swordsman had that look on his face, the one he got when he was extremely angry and trying to hide it.
As people began to raise their heads, the queen said something to Adela that Eli couldn’t hear. The princess nodded and motioned to someone down the steps. At once, Lenette appeared from the crowd and hurried to the queen’s side. Theresa reached for Lenette, and the lady-in-waiting pulled her up, supporting the queen by her shoulders. The princess and Josef turned to help, but the queen shook her head and firmly pointed for them to turn back and face the people. They obeyed, Adela more swiftly than Josef, as Lenette helped the queen hobble slowly down the dais steps and out a side door.
With the queen gone, court was over, and people began coming up to the royal couple to offer their congratulations. Josef shot Eli a look that would have been panic on anyone else’s face, and Eli, recognizing his cue, sprang into action, sliding deftly around the guards and up the dais stairs.
“Princess,” he said, dropping another, shallower bow as he fell in beside Josef. “Congratulations on your nuptials. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more succinct royal wedding.”
Adela gave him a skeptical look. “With war on the horizon, the queen saw no purpose in needless expense,” she said. “Osera is a practical country, Mr. Banage.”
Eli flinched in surprise before remembering the identity he’d chosen for this foray. Fortunately, the princess was too distracted to notice. She was already turning to greet the thin man with graying blond hair, a hawkish nose, and a stern expression very similar to Josef’s, who was the first to climb the stairs.
“Duke Finley,” Adela said, bobbing her head.
The man didn’t even look at her. His eyes were on Josef, looking the prince up and down with his hands on his hips.
“The wayward prince, back at last,” the duke said. “I suppose that means Osera is now mortgaged to whatever bounty hunter dragged you in?”
Josef stiffened. “There’s no hunter involved. I came back on my own.”
“Really?” the duke said. “Prince Thereson, doing his duty? That would be a first.”
He said this last bit over his shoulder to the well-dressed group standing behind him, many of whom laughed out loud at the duke’s daring. Josef clenched his fists and took a menacing step forward before Eli jabbed him hard in the small of the back.
“Do you think it is wise for you to speak so of the prince in the queen’s hall, Finley?”
Josef and Eli both blinked. The words had come from Adela, who was glaring at the duke like he was a pebble she’d found in her boot.
The duke sneered back. “No wiser than addressing the next king of Osera without his title, Adela.”
The princess’s scowl deepened, but Duke Finley wasn’t looking at her anymore. He leaned in to Josef, a smug smile on his face. “You’ve been gone awhile, cousin,” he said in a low voice. “One man to another, let me give you a little advice. Theresa thinks she can cling to her father’s throne even in death by marrying her failure of a son to the daughter of her favorite gold-digging maid, but you won’t last a day past the queen’s funeral. I am the named heir, but even if I weren’t, the people of Osera would never stand to have a common murderer as their king. The only reason they tolerate one as their prince is because of your mother. In any case, I wouldn’t get too comfortable, were I in your position.”
Eli winced. Though the duke’s voice was soft, the room around them had gone deathly still, and Eli had no illusions that the insult had somehow gone unheard. But before he could say anything to diffuse the situation, Josef opened his mouth and made it worse.
“I have no intention of being king,” he said. “Never have. As for me being a murderer…” Josef lifted his chin, and his hands drifted to the sword at his side. “You’re right. I’ve killed people. But I’m a swordsman, and so was every man I defeated. Death is something you learn to expect when you choose the life of the sword.”
“You’re quick to draw such a fine line,” the duke said, leaning back. “Must help you sleep at night.” He flashed the couple a final, thin smile and turned to walk back down the dais steps. “Congratulations on your marriage. I can’t think of two people who deserve each other more.”
Eli arched an eyebrow at the duke’s retreating back. “What a lovely individual.”
Josef grunted in reply, but Adela cast a cold eye at her husband. “Finley’s not the only one who thinks that way,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t speak so freely of the men you’ve killed, Prince Thereson.”
“I am not ashamed of what I am,” Josef said hotly.
“But others are,” Adela said. “You’d do well to remember that.”
Josef stared at her, but Adela was the picture of serenity as she turned and took the hand of the elderly lady who was next in line to wish the royal couple well.
It took almost two hours to greet all the nobility. They were arranged by rank, but Josef glowered at everyone equally, so it was quite fortunate that Adela was there to give the proper greeting to each noble before any offense could be taken.
After all the Oseran noble families had their say, the royal couple was shuffled down to the front gate to be announced before the crowd that had gathered in the square. The people cheered when Adela appeared, and she smiled and waved at them like a perfect princess. Beside her vibrant happiness, Josef looked like a looming vulture, hunched and dour, glaring at everything.
Eli watched the whole thing from the back, blithely ignoring the servant who was trying to convince him that he would be more comfortable waiting in his room. He tried sending Josef cues to lighten up, but Josef was too far gone in his dudgeon to notice, and Eli soon gave up in favor of watching Adela.
It was quite the show. The princess was the perfect mix of sweet shyness and hard Oseran duty with her long, glossy hair, pretty smiles, and shining armor. The crowd was mad for her. They cheered wildly, pressing against the guards. Adela smiled and waved back, looking down with becoming modesty whenever the people grew too wild. This, of course, only made the crowd cheer louder. It was a perfectly played performance. So perfect that Eli was beginning to wonder how long she’d practiced.
Finally, the presentation ended, and the royal couple was escorted back to the throne room. Josef looked like a ten-year veteran returning from the front as he walked over to the pillar to retrieve the Heart of War and the rest of his weaponry. Adela, on the other hand, was prettier than ever, with her cheeks glowing from the warmth of the crowd. She stopped a moment to greet the knot of royal guardsmen who were waiting at the throne room entrance, and then she excused herself and walked over to her husband. Josef stopped strapping swords to himself long enough to give her a questioning look.
“The queen asked that I give you a tour of the barracks,” she said, her voice almost shy. “In case you wanted to resume your duty as head of the Queen’s Guard.”
Josef wrinkled his nose. “Who’s head now?”
“I am,” Adela said.
“Impossible,” Josef said, getting back to the business of reattaching his weapons. “That’s a royal position, inherited by blood. Your father wasn’t even titled. How’d you end up with it?”
“Because your mother was too sick to do it herself and she didn’t trust Finley with her guards,” Adela said, putting her hands on her hips. “It should be the prince’s duty, but it’s not like you were here, was it?”
Josef stopped midstrap. “I get it, all right? I wasn’t here. I let people down. I’m a terrible prince. Message received, so you can all drop the guilt routine.”
“You know, it doesn’t have to be like this,” Adela said, crossing her arms. “You could try being a prince, at least in public.”
“I have tried,” Josef said, buckling his second sword back onto his hip. “Didn’t do me any good then, won’t do me any good now. I just want to get this over with and get on with my life.”
Adela gave him a scornful look. “Then I’ll see you tonight,” she said, turning on her heel. “And we can get on with getting this over with. Good afternoon, prince.”
Josef sighed. “Adela…”
But the princess was already walking away. Josef watched her go and then he turned and grabbed the Heart of War, slinging it on his back with so much force that Eli winced.
“You know,” Eli said as gently as he could, “she does have a point.”
“Shut. Up,” Josef said.
“It could be worse,” Eli went on. “At least you’re not stuck with some insipid court flower. I mean, despite the hobble of being married to you, she seems to be a popular princess. She’s certainly not bad to look at, not stupid, and we’ve all seen she’s a decent fighter.”
“That’s the thing,” Josef said, dropping his voice. “I can’t shake the feeling something was wrong with that duel.”
“Josef.” Eli tsked. “Calling foul just because she gave you a harder time than you expected isn’t very princely.”
“I’m not calling foul,” he said softly. “Adela and I were kids together, remember? We had the same sword instructor, and we dueled a lot. I knew she would be good. I just didn’t expect her to be that good.”
“That fast, you mean,” Eli said, lowering his voice to match Josef’s.
“It’s not even that,” Josef said, shaking his head. “She could have dodged that blow to the chest. I saw her feet start to move, but then she stopped. She let me win.”
Eli fought the urge to smile. “Maybe she didn’t want to embarrass you?”
“She’s not that good,” Josef grumbled, marching toward the door. “Come on. I need a drink.”
“But you don’t drink,” Eli said, running after him.
Josef started walking faster. “I do now.”
Eli left it at that and focused on keeping up with his swordsman. This was going to be some wedding night.
Two hours later, Josef had almost finished his one drink when a servant entere
d and told him his room was ready.
“I have a room,” Josef said, scowling up from where he sat on the floor with the Heart of War propped on his shoulder. “What do you think you just walked into?”
The servant flinched, and Eli gave him a sympathetic look from his spot on the bed, but he didn’t do anything to save the poor boy. In the five years he’d known Josef, he’d never seen him in such a foul mood. He was happy to let someone else take the heat for a bit.
“Forgive me, my lord,” the servant said at last, eying Josef’s knives, all of which had found their way back to their places on Josef’s body. “This secure chamber is for noble guests. I’ve been ordered to escort you to the rooms you will be sharing with your wife.”
Josef set his glass on the floor with a bitter sigh and stood up. The servant stepped aside as Josef walked out the door, but when Eli tried to follow, the man cut him off.
“I am sorry, sir,” he said. “The queen’s orders were that the prince was to go alone. Respect for his wedding night, you must understand.”
“Well, I would never disrespect a wedding night,” Eli said, glancing over the man’s shoulder. He caught Josef’s eyes and gave him the look they’d shared a thousand times: Do you want to get out? Josef shook his head, and Eli stayed put, watching from the doorway as the servant escorted Josef down the hall. When they disappeared around the corner, Eli stepped back into the room.
He picked up Josef’s half-empty glass from the floor and finished it in one long drink. He set the empty glass on the table and grabbed the bottle of spirits instead. He corked it tight and slid the bottle into his belt. When it was secure, he walked over to the window and hoisted himself up, sliding between the bars with practiced ease into the city night.
CHAPTER
9
Did you see his face?” Henry was laughing so hard he could barely get the words out. “You’d think he was standing for execution, not affirming his marriage.”
Adela smiled and refilled Henry’s cup from the fat bottle of dark wine. They were sitting in the officer’s lounge of the castle guard, a little hallway of a room at the very top of the palace just below the tower where the Council wizards kept the queen’s Relay point. There were three of them seated around the polished table: Adela; old Beechum, her sergeant; and Henry Finley, Duke Finley’s eldest son and Adela’s vice captain.