Chapter Fifteen

The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful. Remus figured they'd pretend the kiss, spanking, and anything around those two things hadn't happened. It would all stay locked away forever, and they'd focus on other things, like staying alive.

Lord Dubois couldn't stay hidden away forever, and his attitude was quite cold to Sébastien. Remus was positive it was tinged with fear. The Prince had been a bit more level lately than he was at home, and the attack had been quite sudden.

Several of the Prince's men and even Lord Rochefort's seemed to have lost respect for Lord Dubois. The Prince might have stomped on his throat, and if he'd killed the Earl, that would have been quite serious, but dire words must have been exchanged for things to get to that point. Everyone had seen him whining and bitching about other things.

Nobody had heard what was said, and Remus caught a few rumors from rather minor to just plain terrible. Lord Dubois had called the Prince's Mother a whore. He insulted Remere's fighting ability despite fighting like a beast in the war, and even Rowland couldn't deny that. His Father had been a failure of a King. Blah blah blah. Lord Rochefort kept his mouth shut about the bit he'd heard, and neither Sébastien nor Lord Dubois admitted anything.

Remus certainly wasn't saying what sore points had been touched on, and when he heard a couple talking about it, he said to let it lie. There was no point in dragging it up again, and Lord Rochefort didn't want them gossiping.

***

When they drew quite close to Rowing Rest, it was afternoon. The land appeared to grow bigger, and soon, Remus could make out the shapes of buildings, the docks, and a few fishing boats. Out in the distance, other fishing boats went about their business.

On the boat the Prince was supposed to use, they'd had a large purple flag bearing the crest of Soleil. They didn't have that on the merchant ship, so Captain Withery told his sailors to use an enormous piece of purple cloth. That would do to get the message across, and once the citizens saw that, they'd realize the ship held their new Duke, and it wasn't merely someone stopping in port for a delivery or to gather supplies.

Rowing Rest was only a small town, and like most of Midland, it hadn't grown very much. When the Goddess Elira still walked the realm, fairies had taken small boats from Soleil and gone south. Rowing Rest had been their first stop, and they'd decided to keep going and see what else lay south.

They'd stopped in Rowland and started settling the area. At some point after that, South Sea had been claimed although the history that far back was often fuzzy and made of stories.

One story said that when the fairies first made it to Rowland, a storm had torn apart a few of the boats before they made it ashore, and the fairies on them thought they were doomed to drown. With the rain lashing down and the angry waves yanking them to and fro, they hadn't been able to tell which way was which, and the others in their boats hadn't been able to get to them.

A wolf on the shore had heard their cries and gone in. One by one, he'd dragged each fairy out and saved them, including a pregnant woman who became the first Queen of Rowland.

Another version said they'd all made it ashore on their own. Weak and exhausted, they'd been threatened by a pack of wolves, and a single wolf had protected them all.

Either way, it was why the wolf had forever been the symbol of Rowland.

No wolf was going to save them in Midland, and Remus's stomach was in knots. The men readied themselves. Horses were prepped, and Remus gave Sébastien a few last warnings. Remus wasn't to draw attention to who he was, and if someone said anything or realized who he was, he had a story for that. It would reveal that he wasn't collared, and Lord Dubois would probably throw a hissy fit. They'd deal with that if it came.

People were already gathering along the docks to see the newcomers. Remus's stomach dropped when he saw several put out their hands and aim their thumbs down. It was a wordless "fuck you" that was rarely ever done in Rowland anymore, but it had a slightly deeper meaning too.

"Damn it," Remus muttered. "We haven't even been here for two minutes."

"Isn't that to tell me to go fuck myself?" asked Sébastien.

Remus rubbed his chin. "Yeah. It's also a way to say you should die."

"Lovely. Perhaps I should challenge them all to a duel, and whoever kills me gets the honor of shoving me into a grave."

"Let's not."

Sébastien side-eyed him. "Once on shore, keep quiet and let me do what I need."

"I swear to Elira, if you actually do that-"

"Use your brain, Remus. I'm not dueling the whole town."

If he did something stupid because he grew pissed, and Remus had to haul him off to save his ass…He gritted his teeth.

As the ship docked, several soldiers came down to see. The anchor was dropped, and the gangplank was lowered. Sailors jumped down to secure the lines, and Tom went first to speak to the soldiers since a few had approached. Lord Rochefort followed.

Several of the soldiers went to usher the people into the main square of the town and ensure everyone else came to look at their new Duke and Prince. Remus heard one yell to either stop with the thumb shit or shove it up his ass. Judging by the shuffles and lack of eagerness to obey, those who'd come to see weren't thrilled.

Land was almost strange after a few days on the open sea. Once the men were off, the sailors were told to start unloading the goods and carts. A few would keep watch and ensure no one tried to pilfer something. When Remus passed one of the soldiers, he received a snotty look.

Those posted in Rowing Rest apparently didn't have much respect for their Prince and Duke.

Sébastien wore his purple cloak, and with the severe clothing and a unicorn carrying him, he looked quite lordly. Whisper tossed his head as the group started to make its way toward the main street. Remus stayed to the side and only a little behind Sébastien since he was supposed to be an aid and bodyguard.

Buildings get old and require fixing or need to be rebuilt entirely. It was clear not much fixing and rebuilding had been done lately. Soleil had claimed it and moved on early in the war. A few buildings looked ready to fall over, a stone house was only partially built and appeared to have been abandoned, and a few places made of stone needed the attention of a mason.

Some of the roads were dirt. The main square was paved in flat stones, and a well was to one side.

The men moved to form a loose protective ring just in case the townspeople decided to converge on their hated Duke. Remus noticed a few had shovels and hoes as if they'd been in the middle of working the fields bordering the area. Most people don't carry their tools everywhere. A blacksmith with a surly expression had rested his hand atop the hammer tucked in his belt. A good deal of the soldiers, easily identifiable by their basic purple and black uniforms, moved around.

Remus wasn't sure about trusting them. If the townspeople decided to finally have a full-on revolt, the soldiers might back away and let them do the dirty work of murdering the Prince before doing anything.

The Prince leaned in toward Remus. "No matter what happens, stay out of it unless I specifically command you."

"If you do something stupid-"

"You'll stay out of it." Sébastien waved him back a bit and paused Whisper on one side. Tom announced him like the citizens couldn't figure out who the most striking person was. Before leaving the ship, Sébastien had put his hair up in a perfect bun which made his fine face sharper. At Remus's insistence, he'd plucked out a few strands to hang loose and soften the effect.

Quite a few thumbs pointed down, and a hum of discontent ran through the crowd.

"Soleilian pig," came from somewhere.

A man whose padded jacket had purple stitching on the sleeves stepped forward. "It's an honor to welcome you as our new Duke, Crown Prince Sébastien. If you'd like to come to the guardhouse so you can rest in peace, we can set you up well enough. The old manor house isn't in good shape anymore-"

"No thanks."

"The guardhouse isn't fine and fancy, but the roof doesn't leak, and we can talk over some wine. I'm-"

Sébastien looked down his nose at the Commander as though he were a rather icky bug. "I'd rather speak to the people."

"I'm sorry, m'lord, I'm Commander Tiding. I speak for Rowing Rest. I-"

"I doubt that."

Commander Tiding frowned and tried to figure out what to do with that statement.

Sébastien let his gaze travel to the people. Sour faces stared back, a baby squalled, a little boy picked his nose, and a few shifted. Several more hands were raised to show their downturned thumbs. "Who would you say speaks best for you?"

Some grumbled, and a few scratched their heads. Why would he care? On one side, Remus noticed a few trying to push a guy forward even though he didn't look thrilled.

"I'll speak for the people," a large man rumbled as he stepped forward, and everyone quieted.

A sword hung at his side, and his ruddy cheeks nearly matched his slicked-down hair. His beard needed a trim, and while his clothes were rather poor, Remus judged him as a soldier by his movement.

"Who are you?" Sébastien tacked on a smile that almost looked sweet.

"East Forest by birth, but Middie by choice."

"I'd like a name."

"Frank Tacort. I'll speak to you by putting my sword through your chest if you're man enough to get off your damn unicorn and face me."

Several of the soldiers moved, the whole group tensed, and nasty smiles broke out in the crowd. Maybe they'd get to watch their Duke and Prince die right there. Sébastien ordered everyone to hold and guided Whisper closer. The unicorn stamped his hooves and lowered his head like he wanted to charge and gut the speaker with his horn. Citizens pointed and murmured at Whisper's behavior.

Having a unicorn was a nice touch, but that didn't mean much.

Sébastien ordered away the men blocking his path. They balked, and the Prince put an edge to his second command. They finally fell back, and Whisper brought him a little closer. Sébastien leaned forward to mutter something and pat his neck before he looked at Frank.

"Why would you put your sword through my chest to speak with me?"

The citizens laughed, and a teenage boy mimed slicing his throat before he crossed his eyes, clutched his neck, and shuddered as if dying. An older man shouted from the back. "Shut him up, Frank."

"We don't need some snot-nosed Soleilian pig," stated Frank.

"Mind your own business and piss off," yelled Commander Tiding.

"Shut up," Sébastien snarled at him so fast, he blanched. "One of my people is speaking, and you're not to interrupt him."

Frank bared his teeth. "You might have us down as Soleil on your damn maps, but we're Middies, and you'll never own us. I don't care that Regent Lupo gave up Midland to appease that shitstain you call Uncle who's sitting on his arse in Soleil. I especially don't care if you've been named our Duke. No milksop who hasn't even fought in a war is going to start telling us what to do."

He spat on the ground in front of Whisper as jeers rippled through the square.

"All your Kingdom has done is send soldiers who hold us back and won't even let us live the way we please. And you think you're going to come here, live off our backs for a bit, and return to Soleil so your ass can warm the throne once you turn twenty-five."

"We'll be forgotten about and treated like some unwanted slop pile in your grand Kingdom," shouted a woman, and others tossed similar insults as the crowd shifted. "You take our rents and taxes, and we can't even build the way we want."

"Well, if you tell me all that you want done, maybe we can change things," said Sébastien.

"A Soleilian Prince is only going to listen to a Soleilian man!"

"M'lord, we can go and talk in private," Commander Tiding said with a hint of urgency in his voice.

The grumbles grew louder as the townspeople inched a bit closer. Thumbs stayed down, and the blacksmith had pulled his hammer. If Sébastien left, they'd probably swarm the guardhouse. The only thing that had kept them from full rebellion was that if the Regent sent a secondary swarm of soldiers, things would get bloody.

To get their hands on a hated Prince, they seemed ready to risk it.

Sébastien slowly turned his head to the Commander. "I wish to speak to the people. If I want to speak to you, I'll say so. Quite frankly, I don't wish to lift a cup with you since I've heard unpleasant things about the way you treat the people here."

Commander Tiding opened his mouth and paused. "But m'lord-"

"Mind your own fucking business."

"Unpleasant," snapped Frank. "Your words mean shit, and you're hardly a man. I fought under King Kalen and King Rhys when they sided with Prince Oriel to retake West Bay, and I came out unscathed. You were still shitting in your nappies back then, and you haven't done anything worth mentioning since. You couldn't even last a minute against me."

"Fine." Sébastien slipped down from Whisper and undid the clasp on his cloak. Surprise flashed in Frank's eyes. "Let's see about that, shall we? Swords only. No magic."

Shit. The anger was boiling under the surface, and Frank was going to bear the brunt of it. Afterward, the people would be driven to full revolt. Dueling someone to the death was the exact thing he shouldn't do.

Frank squared his shoulders. "Fine. If you want a lesson the hard way…"

"Prince," started Remus.

"Keep out of this," said Sébastien. "It's between Frank and I."

Remus shut his mouth. Sébastien wasn't about to back down, and if Remus kept pressing, the people would latch onto that. A Prince whose men won't listen will only lose more respect. But if Frank was a decent fighter and killed him, their group would flip and make the townspeople pay for the blatant murder of royalty by a commoner.

He glanced at Lord Rochefort who didn't look pleased. Lord Dubois's face was neutral even though he should have been angry or complaining in some way. Remus could imagine his thoughts: perhaps the Prince would be finished less than an hour after stepping foot on Midland. What a grand success.

Sébastien flung his cloak over Whisper's saddle, told the unicorn to stay away, and stepped to the side. The wings and ruby glinted as he drew his sword. Sébastien had fought quite well before, but if things grew too nasty, Remus would have to step in. Who knew how good Frank was? He wasn't about to let Sébastien end up dead on the dirty cobblestones. He wasn't going to get this far to lose it all in seconds.

Frank drew his weapon and didn't say a word before he rushed the Prince. First mistake. Sébastien blocked the strike, and the citizens started shouting. Commander Tiding backed up and watched along with the rest of the soldiers who didn't seem inclined to stop either side. Whisper lowered his horn and shook it at Frank, but he stayed away too.

Since the Regent had them posted, they might have had orders such as allowing Sébastien to do whatever. The Prince was already known to have an anger problem, so why not let him pound the nails into his coffin?

Frank was pretty fast and certainly not unskilled. A bumbling idiot wouldn't get through a war unscathed. He was heftier too, although not quite as big as Remus. Every parry and block from Sébastien was executed with precision to not only save himself from the opposing blade but to angle it away and reduce the strain on his arms and wrists. It was a clever way to work with his slimmer build against someone with a lot more raw strength.

Frank's blocks were less elegant, although the blows wouldn't be as harsh on his meatier self. As Remus watched, it was also hard to judge what Sébastien might do next even with the positioning of his feet. It was no wonder that while Frank was a force to worry about, the Prince's skill bested him in less than a minute.

Neither wore armor, and Frank let out an enraged noise as the flat of Sébastien's blade struck his wrist so hard, Remus was sure something had broken. Frank's weapon clanged on the cobblestones.

Another strike came to his left shoulder in case he had any ideas about trying to fight with his non-dominant side. The commoners swore and tensed as Sébastien's boot lashed out and kicked Frank in the gut.

Frank fell back with the wind knocked from him, and the Prince's sword was at his neck in a second.

"I win."

The whole square paused, expecting to see blood flow.

"Go ahead and do it!" Frank's face turned purple.

Sébastien stepped back and sheathed his sword in one fluid movement. "Why would I kill you?" He called for one of Lord Rochefort's men who could heal. "Take care of his wrist and shoulder."

Frank stared at him in disbelief, and the citizens didn't seem to know what to do. A Prince who's been called a milksop and insulted by disliked people would surely let his anger take control and lead to someone's death. The guard rushed forward to obey, and his hands glowed as he touched Frank's wrist first.

"M'lord, shall we take him in now?" asked Commander Tiding.

"Did you hear a word I said?"

The Commander stepped forward. "He insulted you and threatened your life, Your Majesty. He needs to be arrested."

"He's angry, and I think one of the reasons is right in front of me. You've gotten on my nerves already because you won't stop nagging. Take your soldiers and fuck off until I say otherwise."

The Commander reddened. "Prince Sébastien, he-"

"What did I just say? Do my men need to arrest you? I said to take your soldiers and fuck off. If I have to ask again, it's going to get nasty, and you won't like the results. Maybe we can show the citizens what your insides look like if you continue to blatantly refuse my orders."

Commander Tiding stared at him for a second, and Sébastien didn't break his gaze until he finally turned and started ordering his soldiers.

The commoners whispered to each other. Frank was sitting up and healed, so Sébastien marched over and held out his hand. Frank eyed him with suspicion for a second.

"Why?"

"Because you fought well. In fact, with a little refinement, you could be a Palace guard. I'm surprised King Kalen and King Rhys didn't promote you or make you a lord."

"Because I don't need no fancy position, and I told them so."

"The skill is still there."

Frank glanced up at the Prince's blank face before finally accepting the offered hand and allowing himself to be helped up.

He clasped Sébastien's arm before he could step away. "I'm sorry I called you a milksop. Your skill is there too."

Remus thought Sébastien would lean back since the apologetic action was rather touchy. "I'm sorry the Regent has mistreated the people of Midland and allowed an oaf to order you all about."

Frank let out a snort before they lightly kissed each other's cheeks and did the other side to apologize. The commoners gawped, some with open mouths. They'd surely expected a Prince who'd start his rule with an iron fist and a murder, and maybe a disregard for their ways.

Sébastien let his hand fall. "How about if you and a few others discuss your grievances with me, and we'll get things sorted without the Commander poking his dirty nose into business that doesn't concern him?"