Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 55

Throne off balance
Trace was prodded by his two guards until he walked faster. They were practically stepping on his heels! He skipped a step, unwilling to break into a full-out run and be out of breath when he finally met the king. All this hurrying seemed a bit ridiculous.

He was already sweaty and dirty from his work in the stables. There was no reason to make it worse, especially when he was about to meet his monarch. Maybe the guards wanted him to appear unsightly on purpose?

He was urged up flights of stairs and through hallways. How large was the palace inside, anyway? It seemed absurd to have a building so large, but here it was.

Finally, the guards stopped at the doorway to a grand hall. A red carpet began at the far end, at the top of a dais where an ornate throne stood. King Harold was seated there with a grim expression.

Trace walked slowly forward, his eyes darting around the room. Aside from the two guards who had stayed behind at the door, there were only two others in the room, standing at the base of the dais near the end of the carpet. The stone floor he walked on was covered by a vast, ornate rug that it must have taken many years to weave.

He felt bad that his muddy stable boots were walking on it, but there was nothing he could do about that now. The guards could have given him an opportunity to change if it were important to the king to be presentable, right?

The prospect that they didn’t want him to appear presentable nagged at the back of his mind again, but he ignored it. If that were so, there was nothing he could change right now.

It wasn’t good decorum to shout at the king from the other side of the large room, so Trace continued forward towards the man seated on the throne.

When he got almost to the base of the stairs leading up to the dais, the guards’ faces hardened, and he stopped and bowed deeply.

“Speak.” The king commanded without introduction or delay.

“Your Majesty, I found this letter,” Trace reached into his shirt pocket, and one of the guards stepped forward menacingly with spear at the ready. The man gulped and froze.

“Produce it,” King Harold gestured for the guard to stand at ease, and Trace continued the motion of pulling the letter out.

“I… was sleepwalking in the lower halls of the palace this morning,” Trace decided to extend the lie he’d told to the guard before, hoping it was not too obvious, but needing his story to stay consistent. “A guard woke and berated me, and told me to leave. I found a letter. It seems to indicate the princess is in danger.”

Trace held the letter out toward the king, but one of the guards snatched it and held it open for the monarch to read.

What, did he think Trace had poisoned the paper or something?

King Harold was silent for several moments. “Where was it you got the letter?”

“There was a draft in the stairwell, and I heard the flutter of paper. I picked it up from the floor, Your Majesty.” Trace had done exactly that… after Anaisa had dislodged it. He hoped no one questioned the timeline of when or where exactly he found the letter, or he would have to either add to his lie or come up with a justification for not handing it over to the guard.

“The guard’s name?” The King demanded, gesturing that his guard could put the letter away for now.

“Sergeant Ulrich was the man who reported this servant wandering the halls,” A voice from the side supplied.

Trace startled and looked over. Behind one of the decorative screens, he could see the vague outlines of a dozen or so seated people. The voice had sounded like the lord from the inquiry earlier, Lord Oakdown.

Was it so that the lords could not see, or so that no one would see them? It looked as if there were a gap in the screens directly facing the throne, so it seemed logical the king could observe them, but no one else in the room.

The setup was confusing.

“Bring him,” The king commanded. Ulrich appeared as quickly as if he had been only steps outside the door. Perhaps the lord had anticipated him being needed for this questioning. Trace held still while this man who so obviously disliked him approached the throne. This had the potential to go very poorly indeed.

“Sergeant,” The king demanded his attention, and the guard saluted.

“Your Majesty!” Ulrich looked overwhelmed and humbled.

“You are in charge of the stairwell watches at night?” King Harold asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty!” Ulrich stood straighter.

“Was there anything amiss during your patrol last night?” King Harold continued.

“Yes, Your Majesty, this man was sneaking around the hallways–”

“Anything else?”

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?” Ulrich blinked in confusion at having his tale interrupted so dismissively.

“Was. Anything. Else. Amiss?” The King demanded.

“No, Your Majesty, not that I recall…”

“Anything missing, or out of place?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Is your patrol thorough? Would you have noticed anything out of place?” The interrogation seemed to make Ulrich sweat. The king’s presence was a heavy one to contend with.

“Yes, Your Majesty, I do a thorough job. I would have noticed anything else. There was no one else and nothing unusual.” Ulrich insisted.

“Even this?” The king gestured for the guard to hold up the note. Ulrich’s face paled.

“Where did that come from?” His voice was unsteady now. “What is it?”

“Your questions seem reversed,” Count Oakdown observed from his place. Trace blinked in surprise as King Harold nodded.

“Indeed. Your first reflex, Sergeant, was not to ask what it was, but where it came from.” The king said thoughtfully, and raised his voice for the guards at the back of the room to hear. “Bring me the hair-changer who serves the princess. Bring me Yemi, and her records of the princess’s needs.”