“Long may we heath,” I added, which made her cackle like a hen pushing out an egg.
With the help of my first mate—after spurning the valet and royal barber sent to fuss over my clothes, my hair, and my face—I found myself ready for a meal with the king, his queen, and his consorts. Hyla had chosen one of my favorite outfits. Tight black breeches, a plum-toned shirt, a black sash about my middle, and ebony boots to my knees. My eating dagger was tucked into the sash. Knowing the guards would not allow a renegade such as me into the private royal chambers with my cutlass, I left it tucked under the fat mattress of my bed. The rain continued to pelt down in angry sheets as I slid rings onto my fingers, Hyla smoking away as she regaled me with tales of meeting and bedding a prince many seasons ago.
“…poor bugger never did recover well. Left my chambers with a decided limp.” I turned from the looking glass over the dresser to face her. She lowered her pipe and gave me a proud nod of her head. “You cut a fine figure, Captain. They’ll be swivel-eyed trying to fixate on one part of you to admire.”
“Doubtful. The queen will stare at my neck as she imagines how neatly the ax of the royal executioner can sever it from my shoulders.” I pulled some gold bangles onto my wrists, tossed my hair back, and squared my shoulders. “I’ll try not to be too late. I cannot imagine they’ll want to linger over cordials with me.”
“Then they are fools,” she countered. I crossed the room to drop a kiss on her brow. She waved me off with a smoking pipe that made my eyes water. “Get your arse moving. Not good making them wait.”
“Yes, but the nobles let us poor bastards wait,” I replied and got a grunt of agreement. Peeking at the pile of snoring blankets in the hearth, I crept past Prescott to slip out of the door, much like parents sneaking off to a night on the town while leaving the child with the mother-in-law.
“I’m to go to the king’s solar,” I told random guard number four. The other three stayed outside my door. The troll being the larger danger obviously. Guard four did not speak to me, she simply led me through winding corridors, up a flight of stairs, past more doors, before finally pausing outside a doorway with two royal guards flanking it. “I’m here for dinner and polite conversation. Perhaps if the night goes well, we might play a game of Moss and Mischief. If the cards trigger well, I may win a crown.”
Neither of the guards enjoyed my joke. Instead of tittering, they patted me down. Sighing, for this was not the first time I had been searched for hidden blades nor would it be the last, I stood in the hall, legs spread while my arms were out to the sides, making eyes at a footman arriving with tiny finger bowls with scented water. He blushed. I winked. One of the guards massaged my balls with enough vigor to make me grunt.
“If you keep rolling my stones about, you’ll find a meaty sword in my breeches,” I tossed out to make the servant with the pretty blue-green eyes flush a bit deeper.
“Uncouth sea scum,” the older guard growled low and deep before shoving me through the door that the other guard opened for the footman. We both entered ungraciously, him spilling some of the scented water, me trying not to tumble the servant. Not yet anyway.
Four sets of eyes flew from the storm raging outside to me. The servant bowed and scuttled off to place his bowls on the large table set for five. A flash of disappointment ran through me at not seeing Le’ral present nor a place setting for him.
I flashed a broad grin at the king, his queen, and the two royal consorts before executing a deep bow.
“Captain, please come in,” Aelir called from the double doors where the foursome stood in casual but elegant clothes.
I entered, the door closing behind me as the servant dashed off. Pity. Perhaps he would be back to serve and I could get his name. Visiting the staff quarters was always fun.
“Your Majesties. So sorry for my clumsiness. Still trying to locate my land legs.” I gave the massive room a fast once-over, finding where any exits were in case I needed to make a hasty departure. The room was wide and open with a large stone fireplace—containing a small fire to chase off the dampness of the storm instead of a sleeping troll—chaises with plump pillows, tables with oil lamps besides piles of books, and a long wood table ready for the evening meal. Over the table hung a massive chandelier carved from buttery wood by the hand of a skilled wood elf, for no others could craft wood in such a divine manner. Perhaps a gift from a warden of the woods to the king. I found no ready exits other than the sodden balcony.
“Not to worry. We all trip and stumble on occasion,” Aelir said, breaking from the tight-knit of his dour-looking spouses. Was that a reminder for those gathered to be nice to those who the crown felt might be redeemable? What I did, who I was, was not a fumble. I was who I was, who I was born to be, who the Cadere line needed to carry on as all the other males in my father’s ancestors had done for hundreds of seasons.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. My gaze was occupied by the splendor of your solar,” I lied, but the untruth was taken with a smile by the king.
“We enjoy our time here. Come.” He motioned me forward. “Meet the rest of my family.”
I moved closer, stopping a few feet from the tall human woman. She and I were of similar heights, her gold hair drawnback in a severe knot, her clothing costly but plain. Light blue eyes ran over me with no desire other than to locate my vital points.
“This is Lady Merrilyn, my consort, and one of the best Moss and Mischief players in the whole of Melowynn,” Aelir announced. The lady said nothing to me but did thank the king for the compliment. He moved me along a step to meet his commander of the guard. “And my other consort, Commander V’alor.” He was an imposing elf indeed. Beautiful of face, stiff of spine, his love for Aelir was clear when he gazed at the king. He lacked my height but only by a few inches. Short military hair. A perfect specimen of elven masculinity.
“Pleasure,” V’alor said, which made me chuckle inside, for it was obvious it was anything but a pleasure. He, I was sure, would prefer to toss me over the wet railing into the sea than sit down to a meal with me. Dastardly pirates.
“The pleasure is mine, Your Highnesses.” I bowed again and then allowed Aelir to guide me to a large wooden chair at the table. Food was brought in, servants rushing about on silent feet, placing dishes here and there, uncovering platter after platter. Stuffed pheasants, roasted hares, venison rounds, stuffed eels, and fried greens with caraway sauce.
“Please, sit, eat.” Aelir sat across from me, sitting primly in the largest seat, his back to the hearth. The others in his family took their seats, the queen to his left, V’alor to his right, Lady Merrilyn to the queen’s other side. I was tucked neatly into a space I assumed would have belonged to the twins.
“Thank you, it looks wonderful.” That was no lie. The aroma of the meal was mouthwatering. I opened my napkin and laid it across my lap. Everyone’s eyebrows rose. Aelir waved the first of probably many awkward moments away with his own napkin. Fukkate. Had I committed a napkin blunder? The others waiteduntil the king had his napkin on his thighs before they placed theirs on their laps. Ah. “I see the twins are not joining us?”
“No, we thought it best to not introduce them to you just yet,” Aelir explained as the room cleared of servants. Like smoke, they were here one second then gone on the damp wind the next. It seemed when the king was in his solar, it truly was family time. “They tend to embrace people quickly, so we felt it was best to not let them meet you until the results of the blood testing are back.”
“I see. That makes sense.” Why let the twins get to know a possible uncle and then have to explain that the nice uncle was now hanging from a gibbet. That could be confusing to the little ones. “Perhaps someday soon I can make their acquaintance.” Seeing that the king was helping himself to a stuffed eel, I moved a pheasant to my plate as my stomach rumbled softly. “How is it that you explained my presence here to the staff and people of Celear?”
“We sent out criers to announce that the navy and the privateers were going to be involved in a truce to try to come to a mutual agreement on the new port fees and other points of contention,” Raewyn said while Merrilyn passed over the platter of venison rounds to V’alor. “This way, the arrival of a well-known pirate ship sailing into our port would not upset the people.”
“I see.” I tore a leg off my pheasant as I spoke. “And is that true?” Raewyn looked at me in confusion. “Would you be willing to meet with freebooters, picaroons, and sea rovers as well as the scores of humble fisherfolk who are being strangled by the royal tariffs already in place?”
The air in the solar grew incredibly stuffy. I tore off a bite of perfectly prepared pheasant with my teeth and chewed as I waited for a reply.
“The crown is willing to meet with any law-abiding citizen of Melowynn, as well as any of the neighboring kingdoms and provinces, to discuss ways to ensure the livelihoods of those who harvest the sea.”