Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 54

Sarcasm is lost on some people
Issachar stared at Trace, clearly confused by the man’s strange joke. Trace sighed.

The humor was as much for his own sake as the boy’s. He didn’t like having two men with spears watching his every movement as if he were some sort of spy or criminal.

Well, he was sort of a spy, but not the kind with ill intentions. In fact, he very much wanted out of the business of spying entirely! If only he could find some way to cleanly accomplish that without endangering anyone, he would do so in a heartbeat.

The morning wore on, and Trace worked hard, his frustration showing itself in the merciless way he worked his muscles at the various tasks of the stables. He was going to be sore the next day for certain, but this was better than letting his emotions out in other ways with two pairs of eyes watching every move.

At the very least, they could report that he was a hard worker, right? Maybe that would count in his favor if he ever got to see the king.

He weighed what words and phrasing he would use in front of the man responsible for leading the kingdom. He wasn’t well-versed in royal etiquette. Start with a bow, he supposed, and he knew to address the king as ‘Your Majesty’.

Most of the rest, he was just going to have to do his best and hope it worked out well. Would he be believed? He finished mucking out the stalls and pulled one of the horses out to groom her. The guards gave him a wide berth but still watched him carefully.

The horse master steered clear of the trio. The other stable boy, as well, seemed intimidated by the guards and found tasks to do at the other end of the yard or on other animals.

No one challenged the soldiers’ presence here, and no one besides Issachar inquired at all as to the reason behind it. Trace was avoided, and whispers abounded.

If he ever needed to get information from other servants again, he might have a hard time. Most would likely avoid being seen with him after this fiasco.

Hopefully that wouldn’t be an issue. If all went perfectly, he would be able to speak to King Harold this afternoon, get everything out in the open, have the king investigate the identity of his mysterious blackmailer.

That seemed like a pipe dream at the moment. If he could even tell the king about the letter from the hair-changer and be believed, that could be considered a minor miracle. He was no one. If he got to speak to the king at all, it would be a bit shocking.

He would have to take all of this one step at a time. First he needed to get the king to believe him about the plot the hairdresser had to kidnap the princess. Next, he needed to leverage the trust he earned from the king to let the monarch know about the blackmailer, without getting himself or Anaisa in trouble.

That would prove an even bigger challenge than step one, but he was getting ahead of himself.

Finally, he wanted to get rid of the blackmailer’s hold over him, and take Anaisa home.

Home. He wished he were already there, but of course wishing did no good at all right now.

Fall was progressing, and winter was on its way. The city didn’t feel the weather as keenly, but out in the farmlands, there would be snow. If they tarried too long here, it would be a more difficult journey. Especially on horseback. He’d made sure the horses would be taken care of at the stable of the Violet Lion Inn before he had left there, but he still regretted he couldn’t just leave the palace to check on his prized animals. They needed to be in good shape to make the journey home.

At the end of all that, he wanted to get rid of all the secrets in his marriage. There was tension there that he didn’t want. If, after all this, he and Anaisa could earn each other’s trust… his chest tightened.

Visions of a happy marriage played in his mind. Anaisa farming alongside him, raising children, growing old together… but that was contingent on many steps in between.

The lunch hour came, and Issachar brought Trace a wrapped meal from the kitchens of cold meats and cheeses. It was a kind gesture, but it occurred to Trace that it meant he would not be welcome to eat with the other workers today. That was understandable, he supposed, but still a little hurtful.

After all, the gossip about him couldn’t flow freely if he were there to hear it. Issachar was probably very popular today, since he’d been the only one brave enough to come ask any questions at all about why Trace had two guards stalking his every move.

The thought amused Trace. The boy was kind and curious, he deserved some attention now and then.

“Do you fellows want to share?” Trace opened the lunch as Issachar scampered away.

The guards looked at him impassively as he offered the food. He lowered it after a moment.

“All right, more for me, I suppose.” He shrugged, taking a bite. The guards somehow managed to ignore him at the same time that their eyes hardly left him. He wondered for a moment if they were deaf. That would be the easiest explanation for the behavior, but no, they had obeyed the lord’s orders after walking out of the hall; they could hear perfectly well.

They just clearly didn’t want to interact with him at all.

He chewed thoughtfully, glancing down at the paper his lunch was wrapped in. His eyes widened. It was a letter.

“You have done well. Say nothing of your secret. Reveal only that which is vital to exposing the plot.”

It was the same handwriting as the other letters, but how… his blackmailer must have someone inside the kitchens ready to do his bidding, and an informant amongst the guards who had heard him make his claim. Before he could take in the implications of the note, a guard appeared from the palace door, out of breath from running.

“Come. Hurry. His Majesty commands it.”