Chapter Twenty-one

G atherings at Kene's estate hadn't fully prepared Eron for the pomposity of the king's banquet. Guests wore clothing so ostentatious they could hardly move freely. Oh, to have been hunting on the road when their expensive carriages passed. The price of one woman's necklace could've fed two villages for seasons upon seasons.

Eron's fingers itched to steal, and he mentally plotted which baubles he'd take and how. Then he'd sigh and move on.

Kene kept a comfortable home but never tried to lord her position over others. Several merchants in the nearby town had comparable dwellings—maybe not with exquisite stolen crystal goblets, but close.

Eron mingled, speaking softly when spoken to but not seeking anyone out on his way to his designated table, where he'd join two dignitaries, their spouses, and a merchant couple. Four murmured offers came his way for a later rendezvous as he passed—offers he didn't decline outright but was careful not to give false hope. There'd been a time when he'd have jumped at the chance for a bit of dalliance with the prettiest of them. Now, however, his thoughts were only for one man. Gargoyle. Whatever.

Eron spotted Lessa several times, but the gathered crowd kept her at a distance. Her radiance needed no jewelry to enhance her beauty. The simple green stones adorning her ears and neck might have once belonged to their mother. Even dressed rather plainly in comparison to some, she stood out as a rose among thorns.

She laughed, smiled, and otherwise charmed all she spoke to, acting nothing like the miserable spouse of a pompous man. If memory served, she'd always been an astounding actress.

Her husband, whom none seemed to want to talk to, glared at her, seething. No love lost there. Eron approached on a contrary impulse. No one told him to avoid his loathsome brother-by-law.

They also hadn't told him he couldn't take the man up to see the gargoyles and give him a hearty push over the edge. Too tempting. A pity the king's guards wouldn't allow it.

"Good evening, Your Majesty." Eron bowed enough to satisfy etiquette but not a hair's breadth more.

King Selin nearly bristled. "I don't believe we've been introduced." He raked a critical gaze over Eron, from fashionably tousled hair to the tip of his new boots. Selin's sneer said he didn't like speaking to people who hadn't been introduced because he'd yet to learn if they were worth his time. Being this close, Eron noticed every gray hair, every wrinkle, every other flaw on the impeccably dressed man. Too bad tailors couldn't repair character flaws.

Miisov approached and threw a comradely arm around Eron. "Your Majesty, may I present Lord Edry of Estia?"

Eron bowed again, this time not as deeply as before, leaving just a hint of a disdainful smirk on his lips. "At your service, Your Majesty," he uttered in Estian.

Lines formed between the king's brows. So, he hadn't bothered learning the language of Estia. Arrogant or undereducated? Most noble families of Eron's knowledge trained children from an early age to better enable them to deal with other monarchies.

Miisov raised a brow. Eron simply grinned. That would teach the man for underestimating Eron, and Kene, by extension, since she'd ensured Eron's education included all the major languages of Ala.

The king's hostility eased but didn't completely disappear. Then he spoke. "Miisov. You haven't had the good graces to die, I see."

What? How dare this man, king or not, speak to a mage so?

Rather than being offended, Miisov laughed, a deep, booming sound that drew attention from those nearby. "I see time hasn't mellowed you. And my dying would bring you too much pleasure, so I've decided to live forever." He turned to Eron. "Come, Lord Edry, I'd like you to meet someone. With your permission, Your Majesty."

The king sniffed loudly, making a shooing motion with his hand. He froze, then frantically turned right and left, searching the crowd for Lessa.

Since Selin hadn't reacted to the Estian, Eron plastered on a beguiling smile and spoke the language again. "I've seen better-looking frogs." He bowed and backed away.

King Selin growled something unintelligible and stalked off.

"Isn't he a pleasant fellow?" Eron asked conversationally. "It's a wonder my sister hasn't killed him."

Miisov chuckled. "Not for lack of wanting to, I'm sure. But it would put her children in the hands of regents who might be harder for her to control."

"Did you really want to introduce me to someone, or were you saving me?" Eron couldn't take much more of playing nice with the ass who mistreated Lessa.

"Saving him, more like. If I'd left you in his less-than-stellar company for much longer, I feared you would pull a knife and make our dear queen a widow. She wouldn't favor wearing mourning garb, though she might forgive you for having a happy rest of her life. But in all seriousness, you and I provided a distraction so that Queen Lessa could slip away for a few moments' peace from her jailer of a husband."

"I'd be doing all of Ala a favor by killing him, you know. The people would build statues in my honor." Eron blanched, reconsidering his words since his lover had, in fact, become a statue. Lover. He had a lover. One he really didn't want to disappear with the first rays of dawn, but who had no choice.

Miisov didn't seem to notice Eron's discomfort or ignored it. "Without a doubt."

Eron glanced right and left. "Where did Lessa go?" As Edry, he really should refer to her as Queen Lessa, but remembering the willful girl she'd once been made it hard to do so.

"She's not far. She merely asked for a moment alone from him watching her every move."

"Is he that jealous?"

"Yes, but not for reasons you might think. He's not jealous she'll take a lover. His jealousy stems from his people despising him yet loving her. She commands the respect he's never earned."

"So, he can either try to do better or bring her down to his level."

One side of Miisov's mouth lifted. "A lesson in futility. The queen knows how to handle herself and how to win approval. Because of this, she has power. While she'd never deliberately harm anyone undeserving, one wrong word from her lips could get even the wealthiest noble shunned. She'd be an asset as an ally. A smart man would make use of her influence. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, her husband and Bain aren't known for their intelligence—she, however, is. Never challenge her to a game of chance."

A trumpet sounded, and a man announced too loudly, "His Majesty, King Bain."

Noise levels rose as Bain entered the room. As pretentious as his guests' clothing was, Bain refused to be outdone, with jewels sewn into his tunic, the gaudiest crown imaginable upon his head, and rings on nearly every finger.

He worked his way through the crowd, stopping to speak to some and ignoring others. Those who'd been snubbed would undoubtedly be the subject of gossip throughout the meal. If Eron actually cared about these people, he might find idle gossip entertaining.

Next, the man announced, "Her Majesty, Queen Consort Jaidia." Memories flashed into Eron's head of this woman, a bit younger, with the same haughty twist to her lips. She, too, wore an abundance of jewels. Oh, if only Eron were permitted to hunt. Villagers starved so the king and queen could show off. Father would've never done so.

The king sat at a table on a raised dais, the queen beside him. Lessa, her husband, and her sons joined them.

Eron sat where instructed. He needn't have worried about answering questions. The others at his table all appeared to know each other and spoke mostly about themselves, mutual acquaintances, or indeed about the poor souls the king snubbed.

Apparently, nobles loved to gossip, no matter the language. Please let no one in Eron's family apart from Bain behave in such an arrogant manner—and he didn't claim Bain.

Servants brought wine and served a lovely soup with cabbage, leeks, and onions. Those at his table changed briefly to commenting on the soup.

"And what do you think, Lord Edry?" a woman to his left asked. All eyes turned to Eron.

"It's soup. I've had better," he said in Estian. The crestfallen faces proved they didn't comprehend. With the only stranger at their table presumably unable to understand them, their gossip grew juicier until Eron wondered if any noble child born in the kingdom was legitimate.

Next came hearty servings of wild game. Eron forced himself to eat, smile, and mumble slowly, not seeming eager to leave. It took every bit of his patience to remain at the table until the meal ended. He'd only caught glimpses of Lessa and fewer still of his nephews.

By the time the final course of fruit and cheese arrived, his tablemates were all drunk and loud in equal measure. It would hopefully embarrass them to know just how much their manners suffered while they were encased in a wine-induced haze.

Eron excused himself the moment he could politely do so and joined the line of revelers waiting to greet the royal couple and their guests. Many in the line seemed giddy, not at meeting kings or a duke, but at meeting Queen Lessa.

A boulder lodged in Eron's throat as he finally approached the table where Bain, Crau, Lessa, Selin, and Lessa's sons sat. What striking boys, so much like Lessa. Eron bowed, hoping to get out his recited words, "Your Majesties and Highnesses. I am Lord Edry of Estia."

He made eye contact with Lessa upon rising. Her eyes momentarily went wide, but she quickly resumed her mildly amused countenance. The men mumbled platitudes, but Lessa said, in perfect Estian, "Greetings, Lord Edry. You honor us with your presence."

Then the moment ended, and Eron let out a sigh of relief. He wandered out into the corridor, ignoring the guards at his back, where servants bustled about, clearing away the meal. He donned his most winning smile—if it still showed with the disguise spell. "I'm afraid nerves prevented me from enjoying this lovely repast. Could you prepare something for later?" Eron recalled his first meal once he'd arrived back here—bread and cheese brought to him by Kerric in the dungeons. He'd return the favor, but with tastier fare, far from the disgusting cell.

"Yes, Your Lordship," a maid answered before bustling off. She returned a few moments later and handed Eron a covered basket. A bottle of wine peeked from the top. Her cleavage hadn't been so much on display when they'd first spoken. She winked.

Eron smiled and inclined his head when once he'd have arranged a later meeting. He took the stairs two at a time and nearly raced to his rooms. "You won't be needed tonight," he told his guards. "I plan to stay in and read."

The guards took up positions on either side of the door. Eron closed and locked the door, set a straw on the top, and then darted for the secret passageway and the ramparts.

He blinked hard several times, letting his eyes adjust to the low light, and listened for any sign of guards, though he'd noticed none before. Torches flared along the walkway, causing the stone gargoyles to glow. A light dusting of snow covered them.

One was noticeably missing.

"Kerric!" Eron called. His breath clouded before his face. He should've brought a cloak.

Kerric stepped out from behind a statue. Had he been talking to it? "Yes, Eron. What is it? Has something gone wrong?"

Oh, right. Kerric had said he'd be here if Eron needed him. Eron held the basket aloft. "I brought you some of the banquet."

The stiff set of Kerric's shoulders relaxed. He approached at a leisurely pace. "How thoughtful of you." His stomach added its rumbling voice in agreement.

"Would you like to come to my rooms?"

"No. It's a pleasant night for this late in autumn. Let's stay here for a while if you're not too cold. I doubt we'll see many guards. They're mostly downstairs guarding the king's guests." Kerric eased down onto the walkway, reaching into the basket. "Honey bread! One of my favorites."

Rapid footsteps tapped up the stairs. Kerric rose, drawing his sword. Eron snagged a dagger from his boot. Together, they waited.

They breathed sighs of relief when Queen Lessa's alabaster skin and dark hair came into view. Eron's heart still hammered.

"Your Majesty," Eron said, bowing as he'd been taught.

Queen Lessa stared him up and down, wiping her eyes with her fingertips. "Don't ‘Majesty' me, you little scamp. Come here."

Eron put away his dagger and approached slowly. For a moment, as he took a closer look, the dagger might as well have plunged into his heart. The woman before him could've passed for his late mother. He froze. Should he approach? Run?

Lessa charged, wrapping Eron in her arms. She was strong for such a dainty-looking woman, forcing the air from Eron's lungs. "I don't know how you're here or why you're here or why you're not dead like everyone told me. I'm just so happy to see you!" She swayed back and forth, taking Eron with her.

They finally separated, Lessa putting Eron at arm's length to study him further. "You grew up, scamp. And returned from the dead. You'll have to tell me everything. But first, why are you here? Why don't Bain and others know who you are?"

Should Eron tell of Miisov's role in this charade? Well, he had trusted her not to give them away. "I'm under a spell. Only you and a few others can see me as I am."

"That explains it, because no one who saw the real you would mistake you for anyone but my brother." Lessa blew out a shaky breath. "You look so much like Dafron, except for his lock of white hair." She stepped back, turning her attention to Kerric. "I beg your pardon, sir. I hadn't intended to ignore you."

Kerric bowed. "Most nobles wouldn't have noticed me, Your Majesty."

"Most nobles are fools. Let me guess, based on your uniform, you're a captain, aren't you?"

"I am, Your Majesty. Captain Kerric."

Lessa dipped her chin. "I remember a Captain Kerric from my time here." She regarded Kerric thoughtfully. "Shouldn't you be older? You look different than I remember."

"I can explain.…" Kerric began.

"Later. Right now, I'd like to look at the gargoyles I've heard so much about. That's my excuse for being here if anyone asks. Legend says they used to be men. Strange that Bain went through the trouble of bringing them up here. They weren't here when I left twelve summers ago."

Kerric led the way.

Lessa looped her arm through Eron's. "We have ever so much to talk about."

"I'd love to talk, but shouldn't you be at the banquet?"

Lessa waved a hand. "I excused myself to put the boys to bed. My maid will see no one disturbs my rooms, and my highly trusted guards are waiting in the shadows since I wanted a closer look at the famed gargoyles." She flashed a smile. "Do you remember how hot my temper ran? Time hasn't mellowed me. I've just gotten sneakier about seeking revenge. Speaking of…" Lessa narrowed her eyes. "Why have you not tried to contact me? I thought you were dead!"

"I didn't know who I was until recently. Between Miisov's spell and my own fears, I was fortunate to remember my name. I've been living with a noble named Kene, who has been most generous to me."

"I'm glad you found someone." Lessa gave a wistful smile. She must not know the name. "I found someone, too, though he doesn't seem nearly as nice as your Kene." They reached the first statue. She ran her fingers over the smooth surface. "How did anyone get these up here?"

"I believe Miisov might have been involved," Kerric replied. "You know how mages are with their secrets."

"Yes, I do. If you think Miisov is bad, you should see our castle mage. He's ancient and prone to falling asleep during meetings. He once jolted awake and turned his hair orange by accident."

According to Miisov, using powerful magic took life force, making him appear old before his time. The mage Lessa spoke of might not be old at all. Eron shuddered. How horrible it must be to look in a mirror, see someone much older than yourself, and know you've magicked away half your lifetime. Was time a reasonable price to pay for magic? Of course, magic granted them longer lives.

"What do you recall?" Lessa asked.

Eron huddled closer to Kerric for warmth, but not close enough to defy propriety. "It's coming back to me a bit at a time. I remember Father, Mother, you, and Dafron, but only the odd recollection here and there. I still remember nothing about the battle. Kene says she found me wandering in the woods."

"Well, I'm glad she found you. Wait! She?"

"You knew her as Elzabai, Your Majesty," Kerric said.

"Elzabai? She's alive. Oh, by the goddess, how is she?" Lessa's excitement made her look like a small child at midwinter's feast.

"She's well." Eron wouldn't offer more for now.

"I worried about her so when she left here. I took her leaving hard, but I think Dafron took it harder."

Did Lessa not know about Kene and Dafron?

Lessa continued chatting as they rounded the first statue. "You know you're Father's official heir now, right? You could depose Bain."

"Yes, but no one knows me. I'm not familiar with local politics. Are there even people who'd back me?"

Lessa leaned in and whispered, "More than you'll ever know. Bain is not a popular ruler, and I often hear conversations about how much better the people's lives were under Father."

Maybe Eron shouldn't expose the plot, but Lessa deserved to know. "You know that King Bain brought you here to kill you and your sons."

"I've heard rumors." Lessa ran a hand over the gargoyle's wing. "What Bain doesn't know is that I'll be ready for him. He won't poison me because that would reflect poorly on him and send other guests into a panic. My guess is he'll use an assassin from another kingdom. How am I doing thus far?"

Eron laughed. "I'm the assassin. But I have no intention of harming you or my nephews. I can't wait to meet them."

"Well, Dafron and Eron will be extremely pleased to meet you, especially as you won't be killing them. We all thought you were dead." Lessa whapped the back of Eron's head with her hand, then pulled him into a side hug. "That's for not telling me, for keeping me worrying."

"I didn't know!"

"Which is why I'm letting you off so easily." She lifted her nose haughtily in the air, moving on to examine the next gargoyle.

Wait! "Dafron and Eron?"

"Of course I named my sons for my brothers. Who else would I name them after? Father's name is reserved for his heir's firstborn son."

Lessa had named her son after Eron. She hadn't forgotten him.

"So, tell me. What's the plan?" Lessa asked.

"What plan?"

"We're here to depose Bain and put you on the throne, aren't we?" Her grin would've even given ravenous wolves pause.

"I don't want the throne." No one else listened. Maybe Lessa would.

Lessa probably wouldn't be so loving to that gargoyle's wing if she knew he'd been a man—one she likely had been acquainted with. "I'm told Father didn't either, and look what a great king he turned out to be."

The pit of Eron's stomach churned. "I… I don't want to rule a kingdom."

"I'm afraid you're the only choice we have. My boys are too young." They strolled along, Lessa running her fingers along each statue. "You don't know this because you just arrived, but several of us have been planning to depose Bain for some time. We simply needed a viable alternative to place on the throne. Now we have you."

A chill swept up Eron's spine. "Who is this ‘we'?"

"You're my brother, but without their approval, I won't reveal who I'm working with. But they have armies nearby, waiting for my command. Miisov had sent word that they'd be needed. Now I know why."

"Will they back my claim?" Hadn't Miisov mentioned four kingdoms, or queendoms, that might support Eron's claim to the throne?

"Without a doubt. They would've settled for a distant cousin at this point. Any legitimate adult male of Father's line."

The words shouldn't have hurt, especially since Eron didn't want to be king. "Nice to know I'm irreplaceable," he groused, then strolled along, trying to catch Kerric's eye. Kerric remained a respectful distance behind. "I have a question for you."

"Ask me anything." All during the conversation, Lessa hadn't released her hold on Eron's arm. Afraid he'd disappear?

"Would you be overly mad if I killed your husband?"

Lessa inclined her head, whispering conspiratorially. "I'll help you." She took Eron into her arms once more, squeezing nearly too tightly for him to breathe. "I'm so glad to have you back, brother. You'll never know. I've felt so alone." She drew back and smacked his arm.

"Hey! What's that for?" Eron rubbed his arm.

"Deliver it to Elzabai when next you see her. She could've contacted me. Now, come. The hour is late. I'm afraid I'm to be held captive, I mean, entertained by Queen Jaidia most of the day tomorrow, but I'll see you if I can."

Eron tried to stay and spend more time with Kerric, but when he turned around, Kerric was gone. At least he'd taken the basket with him.