Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 59

Reflexes are key
Trace watched with wide eyes as two guards approached to grab Ulrich. His demeanor changed like lightning, and the sergeant charged at Trace.

“You–” He snarled, but the insult was never completed.

Reacting with the speed of a seasoned soldier, Trace used the adrenaline already pumping through his veins from the stress of the royal audience to fend off the attack.

Thankfully Ulrich was unarmed, having surrendered his spear to the throne room guards on the way in, or else it would have been far more difficult.

Trace brought his right fist into an uppercut that knocked Ulrich’s chin towards the ceiling, following it with a jab to the ribs.

Ulrich cried out as he fell, holding one hand to his jaw. He grimaced and spat blood.

“SEIZE HIM!” The king roared, and Trace hoped he was not included in the order.

Before the guards could move in, rage filled Ulrich’s eyes and he lunged again, for Trace’s legs.

The farmer jumped, but was still thrown off balance by the impact, and the two men tumbled. Grappling, they rolled across the floor, until they hit the stairs of the dais. Trace managed to roll onto the top and straddled the other man, pinning the sergeant and delivering two quick punches to his head to stun him enough for the guards to take control.

They did so, grabbing Ulrich under his arms as a string of muffled slurs poured from the man’s bleeding mouth. At least one tooth was missing. He spat blood again, cursing Trace.

Trace got to his feet, wincing at his stinging knuckles. Either he’d gotten blood on him, or gotten cut. Maybe both? He used part of his shirt sleeve to dab at the area.

Murmurs and exclamations exploded from behind him, and Trace turned to realize that the scuffle had put him close enough to the throne to be in full view of the lords.

With an apologetic bow, he slunk back to his former position a short distance away from the stairs of the dais. Would he get in trouble for this? He was defending himself, but maybe bleeding in the royal presence was some kind of offense?

He grimaced, keeping his eyes down as the talk grew in volume. He could only catch bit and pieces of the chatter.

“Did you see–”

“It happened so fast!”

“I cannot believe a Sergeant would–”

The king pounded his fist for silence, and the collection of lords fell silent.

“Daughter, you are confined to your tower until the ball,” Harold announced.

“Father, no!” The Princess stomped her foot, “Absolutely not! I refuse!”

“Your life was in danger. That pair plotted to kidnap you!” The king roared.

“You’re overreacting.” The young woman rolled her eyes. “Besides, they’ve been caught now.”

“And until we can further interrogate them and learn of any other co-conspirators, I cannot allow you to roam freely!”

“Then give me a guard or something if you must, but you can’t keep me locked up!” She shot back.

“Apparently not even a sergeant within the palace can be trusted with your safety!” The king glared at his daughter as he pointed an angry finger toward Ulrich being dragged from the room.

Trace was running his thumb along his knuckles to see how deep the cut there was, trying to not awkwardly stare at the arguing royals. It was incredibly uncomfortable.

“Then find someone you can trust!” Princess Sapphira shot back. “Surely if you want me to stay in my room you’ll have to command the guards to barricade me in anyway, would it be so difficult to let one follow me around instead of trapping me?”

The king paused and considered the words, and Trace watched his eyes move towards the screen, angled so that only he could see the lords behind it.

“Advisors, do you have any input?” The king shot a warning look at his daughter.

“Her highness’ safety is of utmost importance!” Trace recognized Count Oakdown’s voice. “It cannot be trusted to just anyone.”

“Of course not,” Another said. “Her safety is paramount to the future of the kingdom, along with the other heirs’ wellbeing.”

“But surely to lock her up like a prisoner…” A third voice interjected.

“This man, Your Majesty, has shown some level of competence in uncovering a plot the rest of your guards failed to,” A deeper voice put in.

“Finding the letter was coincidence, not skill.” The king waved dismissively.

“And yet, he also showed proficiency at fighting off an attacker,” The deeper voice spoke again. “He is loyal to you or he would not have tried so hard to put the traitorous letter before you. A lesser man would have handed it to Ulrich immediately, and the plot would have moved forward.”

The king’s eyes moved to Trace, who suddenly felt extremely self conscious. He was being talked about as if he weren’t present at all. Wasn’t that terribly rude?

“Have you experience fighting? Protecting?” The king narrowed his eyes.

“I served in the war.” Trace nodded reluctantly.

“In what capacity?” Harold glanced to the side at the lords, who were now whispering amongst themselves.

“Near the front lines,” Trace hedged, remembering the warning not to tell the king his secret. As much as he wanted to be out from under the thumb of his blackmailer, he was pretty sure it was one of the men behind the screen. Who else would have the insight and power to know he was about to have an audience with the king?

He wished he’d gotten a better look at all of them, or more specifically, their jewelry. The image of the ring with the wolf and snake flashed in his mind.

The king openly appraised the commoner before him while Trace tried not to squirm under the scrutiny.

“Your work now is in the stables, correct?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Trace bowed slightly.

“And you’ve been working all day, aside from the inquiry?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” He was saying that so much lately the words might get stuck in his mouth.

“Are you injured?” The king continued.

“Not badly, Your Majesty,” Trace glanced down at his hand, and the king nodded.

“Would you deem yourself fit to be a bodyguard for my daughter?”