by Sarina Dorie
“There are two parts to this plan. You will help me find a way to convince the king that he should permit me to hunt the scoundrels who murdered my sister, and in the process, we will also ensure that we find a safer way for you to meet with your child and mistress.” Errol spoke with the same forthright manner he would have done had he been addressing an officer of equal rank. Too late he realized this was no way to address a prince. “Excuse me—if you please, Your Highness.”
“I don’t see how those two tasks complement each other.” Prince Elric-Atherius leaned one elbow against the armrest of his makeshift chair.
The painter cursed in Dutch and threw down his hat. Errol didn’t understand most of what the man said, but from the bursts of ingenuity bursting out of him in radiant sparks as he spoke, Errol suspected the man must have uttered some truly inspired epithets.
“I’m so sorry, Remmy.” Prince Elric-Atherius turned his gaze to the painter. “I will try not to let him distract me.” He turned to Errol. “I’m supposed to be Rembrandt’s angel. Perhaps he’ll paint you as Abraham.”
Errol ignored the painter. “If you agree to this plan, you will petition your father to be under the escort of a dozen guards of my choosing. We will survey Caern and find information about the attackers. This will give you a legitimate reason for leaving and a reason for Quenylda to stay behind.”
“Did I tell you how he tries to suffocate me with guards and monitors my every move when I’m out? It really is unfair.” Prince Elric-Atherius crossed his arms, looking petulant. “I have no privacy.”
Rembrandt left his painting and took up his sketches, adding lines with quick confident strokes. Creativity drifted from him. Prince Elric-Atherius glowed more brightly with inspiration.
Errol inclined his head at the prince. “Indeed, your father monitors you, but he doesn’t monitor my every move.” There were some advantages to being born to what royalty considered to be unimportant peasants. He could make plans and perform certain tasks in advance to keep out spies.
From the doubt on the prince’s face, Errol realized he wasn’t succeeding in selling this idea. He forced a smile. “Think of this as an adventure, an opportunity for you to have some fun outside of the castle.” Errol reminded himself he was manipulating this simpleton out of necessity. He was doing this to find Alma’s attackers and ensure they never hurt anyone else again.
The prince perked up, and Errol could see he had used the right frivolous words to entice him.
Errol tried to keep his tone light and jovial. “I will make arrangements for us to have an outing to interview villagers who might have seen something about the Raven Court’s whereabouts. With your rank and title, you will be able to make inquiries with greater authority than I can. Before this outing, I will make reservations at a tavern where you will be able to stop to rest and have a meal. If you have sufficient funds, I am certain we can buy privacy and discretion. That, and we can ask the tavern keeper to make a vow of silence with a magically binding contract in order to receive full payment.”
“That sounds like jolly fun.” Prince Elric-Atherius bit his lip. “But what if Meredith is spotted?”
Errol had thought all the details through, including which of his soldiers were the most reliable. “They get to play dress-up like actors in a theatrical show. Your mistress and child will be disguised as servants of the tavern in case there are unforeseen spies.” Or in case anyone should repeat that they saw the prince flirting with a woman. If she was glamoured and properly disguised, no one would know this was the same woman he had previously met.
“My mistress? Oh, do you mean Meredith?” Prince Elric-Atherius asked, his forehead crinkling.
“Indeed.” Errol hated spelling everything out for the prince. “I believe you will be able to make several investigations on separate occasions, ensuring you more time away from the castle and the ability to meet with your mistress. You can tell your father you are making inquiries in order to satisfy the task you were given to help me seek retribution. After our mission is complete, we will take the information we find and present this to the king so that we can bring the culprits to justice.”
“I see. You would be using my errand to find out information, and I would be using your errand for a clandestine romance.” The prince bit his lip, thinking it over. “I would like to help you, truly I would, but I don’t know if I can convince Father and Mother to permit me so much freedom.”
“Take me with you when you go to speak with him, and I will assure him that I will command an escort of the most competent guards.” Errol removed a scroll of parchment from his inner breast pocket. “I have written a detailed report on who will come with us, their magical strengths and fighting capabilities, and why I have chosen them for this escort. I have laid out a plan for places to visit where other sightings have occurred.” Determination burned in him to finally succeed in his task for avenging his sister’s death.
“Oh look!” Prince Elric-Atherius said, his gaze flitting past the scroll. “Remmy made a sketch of your face as the angel. Isn’t that lovely? You should show him your wings.”
Errol didn’t know how he was going to get the prince to help him with this plan if he couldn’t focus for more than two seconds.
* * *
Errol presented his idea to the king in his study. He wished it had only been him, the king, and Prince Elric. Unfortunately, Prince Beorhtsige was there as well.
The king’s hard expression didn’t deter Errol when he went to him with the prince, though he could tell from Prince Elric-Atherius’ fidgeting he was intimidated by his father. It might have been the bees buzzing out of his wild shock of silver hair that separated him from others and made him feel like an otherworldly being.
Errol bowed to his sovereign and explained his plan. He wasn’t thwarted by the king’s flat affect as he listened. Errol was used to the stony expressions of commanding officers. It was Prince Beorhtsige’s whiny petulance that annoyed Errol.
“Why should you grant his request? We’ve already made amends for what those rogue Fae did to his sister. He has been recompensed for his loss.” Beorhtsige flashed a wicked smile at Errol. “Aren’t you enjoying your kitchen wench?”
From the way Beorhtsige waggled his eyebrows, Errol suspected he was trying to make a lewd innuendo. Errol pretended he didn’t notice.
King Viridios’ eyes shifted from green to the violet of Errol’s as he gazed at Beorhtsige. “Maybe if you hadn’t done such a shoddy job in the first place, Captain Errol wouldn’t be here again.”
Beorhtsige snorted and crossed his arms. Errol continued explaining his plan. For the most part, Prince Elric-Atherius remained silent. Errol considered that a blessing. Beorhtsige interrupted so many times with snotty commentary that Errol found his temper rising. It was despicable that Beorhtsige was an adult and behaved like a child.
Beorhtsige sneered at his brother. “I don’t understand why you would even bother to let Elric try to remedy this problem after the way he blundered last time.”
“My dear son, I see you cannot hold your tongue about the matter.” King Viridios placed his hand on Beorhtsige’s shoulder. “It seems you have taken quite an interest in Captain Errol’s problem. Shall I have you join them, to ensure they succeed?”
Beorhtsige glowered.
Errol’s stomach flip-flopped. “Your Majesty, it isn’t necessary for both your sons to accompany me to the village.”
There would be no safety for anyone if Beorhtsige went with them. Beorhtsige would sabotage Errol’s mission. His indifference would poison every moment of the journey. Prince Elric-Atherius wouldn’t be able to see his mistress and child safely. Errol didn’t know if it would make a difference to Prince Elric-Atherius’ agreement to help Errol if he wasn’t getting something out of the trip.
“Indeed!” Prince Elric-Atherius said with an unexpected burst of enthusiasm. “We’d love to have you join us! There will be plenty of room in the car
riage for you to join Captain Errol and myself. And it will be diverting, talking to peasants and interviewing them.”
Errol glared at the prince, wanting to punch him to make him close his mouth. Was Prince Elric-Atherius a complete simpleton?
King Viridios drummed his fingernails against his desk. “It would be a fine opportunity for my sons to spend time working on a problem together.”
Beorhtsige lifted his chin. “I’m certain I have more important matters to attend to.” He stormed out, much to Errol’s relief.
* * *
Errol had no opportunity for privacy with Prince Elric-Atherius until days later when they sat alone in the carriage, heading into the village. A company of guards sat atop the carriage or stood on the ledges outside, while others rode on horses flanking the cabin.
“You do realize that if your brother had accompanied us, you wouldn’t be able to see your ‘guests’ while on our errand today.” Errol said. “Have a care to give some thought to whom you invite.”
Prince Elric-Atherius smirked. “You do realize if I hadn’t invited him, he would have come. Have a care not to show you wish to exclude him, and he’ll be more likely to lose interest.”
“That was your plan?” Errol asked. “To invite your brother in order to make him refuse?”
“Of course. Do you think I want to be stuck in a carriage and hear him complain about how he hates our subjects and belittles them right in front of their faces? I have learned a thing or two while I’ve lived at court.”
Errol had thought of Prince Elric-Atherius as a helpless puppy getting bitten by bigger dogs. He supposed the prince would have had to adapt in order to survive court life somehow.
* * *
Returning to the Codpiece District brought Errol pain on multiple accounts. Not only was it the neighborhood where Alma had died, but it was also where Errol had disgraced himself in one of his more desperate moments. Paying a harlot to relieve the passions of muse magic hadn’t helped him any. It had only made things worse.
Errol wished he’d figured out how to suppress his muse magic sooner. He could have prevented an innocent woman’s death.
The carriage rolled to a stop outside one of the shabbiest buildings. Errol still couldn’t imagine what his sister had been doing in this neighborhood. He’d been told she’d been on her way to place an order with the butcher. This wasn’t a shortcut safe for a respectable woman to take.
Errol knocked on the door to the brothel where Alma had been taken in, as they might have seen the rogue Fae who had attacked Errol’s sister. Norris and Paega were unglamoured, right behind the prince, while the others stood invisible but vigilant.
The brothel owner, a beefy man with a thick mustache, was all smiles for the prince. His Witchkin metal affinity wasn’t strong, but what he lacked in magic he made up for in muscle. He answered every question politely and invited Prince Elric-Atherius inside. The man stumbled over his own feet as he bowed and supplicated himself while trying to lead them toward a parlor.
“I do apologize for the intrusion. I’m here on business. I won’t take much of your time,” Prince Elric-Atherius said with his easy smile.
“It is never an intrusion to admit a prince to my humble abode.” The man bowed again, his face flushing pink.
The prince glowed brighter—Errol thought at first from the praise—but he realized this man must have had some sort of artistic streak from the silver light drifting from him toward the prince. Each time the brothel owner spoke, sparks of creativity drifted from him. The prince, in turn, glowed like an angelic being. Perhaps the man was a storyteller, and this was what a muse could do to inspire words. Then again, Prince Elric-Atherius had done the same with the Morty astronomer, Galileo Galilei. It was possible a muse could do more than inspire paintings, sculptures, song, and dance.
The parlor where the man led them was uncomfortably small. Norris and Paega hovered near the prince, trailing him closely. Five more guards were glamoured invisible, but also surrounding the prince. Errol didn’t think he could take more than a step in any direction without bumping into one of his soldiers.
“Won’t you be kind enough to tell me about the attack?” Prince Elric-Atherius asked.
“I didn’t see the attack myself,” the brothel owner said. “When I was brought to the poor lass in the ditch, she’d lost a lot of blood.”
Errol tried not to imagine Alma’s face, bloody and crumpled up in pain. “Did you talk to anyone who saw what happened?”
“I did. My wife and daughter were the ones who came and got me. My wife is away at the market, but my daughter’s upstairs. You want me to get her?” The man walked to the door at the back of the parlor. “Pauline, get down here. We’ve got a fancy man visitor who has some questions for you.”
A fancy man? Errol glanced at the prince’s attire. Even though he’d dressed more subdued than he did at court, the fine wool of his jacket and crisp white shirt had to be worth more than these people had ever seen. Even Errol’s uniform was fine compared to the squalor of these people.
Eventually a young woman walked into the room. She wore a modest dress, loose and threadbare. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She was lean and willowy, pretty in a youthful way. She stopped in the doorway upon seeing Prince Elric-Atherius.
She placed a hand on her heart. “It’s the prince!”
Prince Elric-Atherius stood and bowed. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. We came so that we could find out—”
She turned to her father and swatted him. “How could you do this to me? You could have at least warned me a prince came calling.”
The father laughed, his belly bouncing as he did so. “He isn’t here for you, lass.”
“Who is he here for? Mother?” She rolled her eyes in typical teenage fashion. “My hair is a mess, and I just woke up. This is the most embarrassing moment of my life!” Sparks of creativity flew from her mouth, her ingenuity as much carried in the passion of her words as it was in the anger she carried in her body.
She stormed off, Errol not understanding this new side of muse magic he’d never noticed before.
The man smoothed his fingers over his mustache. “Sorry about that. She’ll be back.”
The young woman’s face hadn’t been made to look young by a glamour. She was only about fifteen, the same age as Delilah, the young woman who had brought Errol to the House of Solomon years before. He had elected to pay for her mother’s services rather than bed a child, though he had known Delilah wouldn’t be spared by most men. Errol hated to imagine this teenage girl was being forced into a life of servitude by her parents, bedding strangers in order to survive.
Prince Elric-Atherius made polite conversation as they waited for the man’s daughter. When she did return to the room, she wore a fancy gown that didn’t fit and a wig. Her cheeks were colored with rouge and her lips painted bright red. She looked like a child playing dress-up in a woman’s clothes.
Paega stared at her with open-mouthed admiration. Errol discreetly elbowed him. Later he would be having a word with the lieutenant about not permitting himself to get distracted.
Pauline curtsied, her smile growing. Her attire was garish and outlandish, but wrapped around her was a layer of creativity, lending her a confidence that hadn’t been there before. She shimmered with imagination, presumably from inventiveness of her choice of fashion. There was a connection between her and the prince that Errol could see, the exchange of muse energy drawing something out of her that hadn’t been there before.
The young woman’s father shook his head and covered his eyes. “You look like a harlot with that paint on your face.”
It was an odd comment to make considering this was a brothel. The maid who had written Errol with the details about Alma’s death had informed him that his sister had been taken in by a brothel owner, hadn’t she? Errol tried to puzzle what this man meant by his comment.
Pauline made a face and th
en commenced to ignore him as she greeted the prince. She giggled, not so much in a flirtatious way, but like an enamored teenager meeting her secret crush. The prince was polite enough to endure her questions and flattery. Errol lost his patience after five minutes.
“Excuse me, but I must remind the prince that he has other appointments,” Errol said. “Can you tell us about the woman you found who had been attacked? Your father said you might have seen what happened.”
Pauline tore her gaze away from Prince Elric-Atherius. “That’s right. I saw what happened.” She didn’t volunteer any more.
Prince Elric-Atherius took her hand. “It would mean so much to me if you were willing to describe what you saw.”
Pauline shimmered as the prince fed her inspiration. The story came spilling out of her, each word sparkling out of her mouth. “I was on my way back from cleaning rooms at the nunnery with Ro when a flock of those evil magpies attacked again. This time—”
“Again?” Errol asked. He thought this had been the only occasion the Raven Court had been sighted in Caern.
She cast a grumpy look at Errol.
“Go on,” Prince Elric-Atherius said.
She batted her eyelashes at him. “It isn’t like this is the first time rogue Fae have swooped down on us in this neighborhood. They take the form of birds. Ravens.” She whispered that word as if the enemy Fae might hear her. “Usually they rob people that look like they have coin—but only after dark. They would probably have left the woman alone.” She looked to her father. “It was that woman who brings cookies and gives food to children in the neighborhood. The ravens were pecking at an elderly man with a cane as he came out of one of the houses, trying to distract him so they could lift his purse. But the lady ran over and punched one of them and tried to drive them off. I don’t think she would have done that if she had known they were more than birds.” She swallowed. “They transformed into women with talons and roughed her up.”
Errol’s throat tightened with grief. He had known it wouldn’t be pleasant to hear what she had to say. He didn’t know whether it made things better or worse knowing his sister had died a hero.