Chapter 43

D espite Baron's direct order, a crow followed him all the way to the castle, circling as he presented himself at the palace gate.

"All Casters are ordered to remain at home," the guard captain said.

"I understand. However, I'm also an eligible man of court, here for the Crown's challenge. I assume that takes precedence."

The four men currently on duty exchanged looks. In the end, they sent a runner to the castle, and they waited.

Baron allowed himself one glance up and saw Corvin sailing away—but not toward home. Around the other side of the castle.

He clenched his jaw and hoped Aria would send his brother home. These days, Corvin seemed to listen to her more than to anyone else.

At last, the runner returned: the Caster would be permitted entry, and the king would meet with him in half an hour. Baron wished the news came with a surge of hope, but he'd known from the start there was little chance he'd be turned away at the gate. Baron would either be permitted to challenge, or he'd be sentenced for breaking house arrest. There was no option between.

One of the guards offered to escort him, though it was hardly an offer . Baron gave Einar's reins to a stablehand, and he walked with confidence into the castle, head up, shoulders back, as if he belonged.

Every pair of eyes followed him as he passed, and so did the whispers.

The guard led him to an anteroom. Though there were cushioned chairs along one wall, Baron stood, his gaze fixed on the double doors leading to the throne room. He rehearsed words in his mind, though it seemed pointless. He'd not convinced the king concerning his title, and the odds there had been far higher in his favor. Still, he had to try.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, and Baron turned to find Cook.

She handed him a scrap of parchment. "Recipe for that kid cook you tend to."

Of course. "He'll be thrilled. Thank you for ..."

When he looked down, the handwriting seemed to leap from the page, familiar in every loop and curl. Aria's.

He met Cook's eyes and said again, "Thank you."

"Tell him good luck." She seemed to mean it, her eyebrows furrowed, her spoon lowered rather than threatening. She glanced at the guard as if she might say more, then left.

The note was short; Baron read it at a glance. Then he tucked it into his inner vest pocket and waited.

In what seemed too short a time, the doors opened to admit him.

The last time Baron had faced the king, it had been in a ballroom, with the king on a single-step dais and a temporary throne. Now he faced the man in the throne room, where his seat seemed as permanent and ancient as Loegria itself, where Baron had to look up just to see it.

He'd followed a bear right into its den. For the moment, it hibernated behind a neutral expression, but Baron did not doubt the teeth that could emerge.

He bowed low, and then he waited.

"Give me one reason," the king said at last, "I should not have you sentenced for roaming free, Caster."

Baron's voice rang out with more strength than he'd expected. "Because, Your Majesty, I can break the curse."

"Better men have tried and failed."

"They did not possess my abilities."

"So ... openly." The king shook his head, looking to the ceiling as if he wished to erase Baron from view. "So openly you speak of magic within my very palace. I remember you, Guillaume Reeves. We have had this conversation before. If I would not allow a Caster a seat in my court, what audacity goads you to think I will allow one a seat on my throne ?"

During all Baron's preparation, that question had haunted him, and he'd been unable to offer an answer.

But Aria had.

With the same strength as before, Baron said simply, "The law."

The words echoed in a silent room. The king's advisers exchanged furtive glances, and the guards stood at straighter attention.

"Three laws," Baron said clearly, "to be precise. First, I bear a witch's mark, which leaves me free to practice benevolent magic under the branding law. I am no more an enemy of the State than anyone in this room, and I am guilty of no crime in either referencing or using my Casting. Second, any order of house arrest includes a right to petition the king under pressing circumstance. Third, and most importantly, by His Majesty's own words, the Crown's challenge is open to any eligible man within court. Even as a Caster, I am within the law to accept the challenge, and since it was for this purpose that I left home, I am protected under a right to petition the king."

One adviser seemed impressed, jaw hanging open. The other showed more restraint, though Baron certainly had his attention.

Had Aria been present, Baron would have kissed her senseless.

"You've grown more eloquent in quoting law, but I make the law," the king sneered, a threat in his eyes.

Baron felt a warmth right next to his heart, where Aria's note rested. She knew her father well. Inevitably, she'd written, he'll reference his power.

"Of a truth," Baron agreed, "and the law Your Majesty made was the Crown's challenge. Is it now void?"

Corner him , Aria said. He won't repeal the challenge. It would show weakness.

When the king didn't respond, Baron dared to push forward. "Your Majesty extended a call for those with the power and determination to protect this kingdom now and forever. Loegria branded me when I was a child, yet even given opportunity and motive, I have not abandoned it. I stand ready to protect this country, now and forever."

More specifically, the princess at its head. Baron had always hoped to change the country, but the desire to protect it had only come about since knowing her.

The bear rose from its throne, towering above the entire room.

"Execution," said the king.

Baron's heart stopped.

"That is the price for failure of the Crown's challenge."

With a low gasp, Baron managed to breathe again, but only just.

"You will take the challenge, Lord Guillaume , just as you wish, and when you fail, the punishment will be execution. In addition, you will not interact with the princess, and you will not be permitted to touch liquid within the walls of my palace. The only rooms you will set foot in are this one, the anteroom, and the Artifact room itself. Two members of my personal guard will accompany you at all times."

Baron thought he should say something heroic, but any echo of Einar he'd managed to summon for himself had vanished under the mention of death. He barely managed, "Yes, Your Majesty."

"If this is the pyre you choose to burn upon," said the king, "so be it."