Chapter 9 #2
“It’s got me worried,” confided the first man.
“I suppose if you knew about the Dust disturbance, you’ve already heard about the accident it caused at the mill on the edge of town?
” His companion shook his head, and he continued.
“A craftsman was using magic to help hold himself up in a good position for his work, and the Dust in the air suddenly disappeared, so he fell. He’s lucky to have no more than a broken leg. ”
The second man gave a low whistle. “The guild won’t be happy about yet another incident. That’s five this week in the capital alone, and word is it’s even worse in some parts of the country.”
Theo frowned thoughtfully. Five incidents that week?
Clearly he wasn’t being kept in the loop, a fact that didn’t really surprise him.
Begrudgingly, he felt some sympathy for Prince Patrick’s stiffness earlier in response to Elowen’s teasing.
Theo also wished he wasn’t stuck taking part in a meaningless competition rather than assisting with the investigation into the strange movement of the magic in Torrens.
As he watched, a third man approached the pair.
“Simeon!” one of them greeted the newcomer. “Where have you been all day, lad? I haven’t seen you around the tournament fields.”
“No, I missed today’s events, unfortunately,” the servant said lightly. “I had other duties. But I wanted to sign up before they closed the lists for the day.”
“You’ve decided to compete?” The man in the guild uniform looked pleased. “I’m glad of it. What’s changed your mind?”
Simeon’s smile was disarming. “Your persuasions, of course.”
The man chuckled as he added Simeon’s name to the list already pinned to the wall. “I doubt it, somehow.”
Simeon looked on the point of leaving, and Theo realized it was the best chance he’d likely get to ask the servant about the dam burst. He moved forward, causing all three men to fall silent and bow respectfully.
“Simeon, isn’t it?” Theo greeted the younger man.
Simeon acknowledged it with another bow as his companions packed up their papers and melted away, not eager to be caught in conversation with the foreign prince.
“I’ve been hoping to speak with you,” Theo said. “I understand you’re a skilled craftsman, is that right?”
“I’m flattered by the description, Your Highness,” Simeon said. “I have some training in the craft, yes.”
“And you were present when the dam burst on the Duke of Sirocha’s holdings?” Theo pressed.
This time Simeon hesitated, a wary look coming over his face.
“I was there, and I’m sure I saw you,” Theo said mildly.
“Yes, Your Highness,” said Simeon, his eyes respectfully averted. “I was nearby, although I didn’t personally see the dam burst.”
“Did you feel anything strange about the Dust released by the water’s movement when the dam failed?”
Again Simeon took a moment to answer. “Strange, Your Highness?”
Theo curbed his impatience, knowing that severity wouldn’t make the servant more inclined to speak freely.
“Did you feel the Dust released by the dam?”
“I did, Your Highness.”
Theo searched his face. “And did it feel normal to you?”
The servant cleared his throat. “I’m not qualified to speak as to what’s considered normal, especially at such an unusual event. It’s the only dam failure I’ve ever been present for, so I have no basis for comparison.”
Theo tried a different approach. “You seem uncomfortable, Simeon. Perhaps you’ve already been asked to report on the matter by His Majesty or His Grace, and are reluctant to betray whatever trust they have in you. Commendable, if so.”
“No, Your Highness, no one has asked me not to speak about it,” Simeon said quickly. “That is, I simply have nothing of value to tell.”
“I see.” Theo was less convinced of that than ever, Simeon’s manner and tone putting all his senses on alert.
But there seemed little point in pressing further.
With a word of parting, he moved away, rounding the curved edge of a nearby tent before it occurred to him to ask about whether Simeon had felt the disturbance during his maze run.
Perhaps the other man would find it harder to be guarded when he’d had much less time to decide on his story.
Theo had made it halfway back around the tent when a new voice brought him to a stop, still out of sight of the servant.
“Simeon.” Apparently Elowen hadn’t returned to the castle yet after all. “You’ve signed up for the craftsmen’s competition.” Judging by her tone, the information had come as a great surprise to the princess.
“Yes, Princess Elowen.”
Still hidden from sight, Theo raised an eyebrow at the boldness of the servant’s tone in responding to the princess. It was a far cry from the overly deferential manner he’d just shown Theo. He was even more stunned when Simeon continued.
“I’m not timid, Your Highness. Don’t be concerned,” he went on quickly. “I carry no presumptions. But whatever my restraints, I’m not a weak or hesitant man. Perhaps my temperament seems yielding to you, but I don’t believe I have a lack of resolution.”
It was clearly a reference to an earlier conversation, and Theo felt discomfort prickle over him. What exactly was the servant speaking of? What made him so brazen as to address the princess in that challenging way?
“I see,” Elowen said, her voice quieter now. “I don’t know what to say, Simeon, except to ask you to forgive my assumptions. And, of course, to wish you well in the competition.”
The voices fell quiet, and a moment later, Theo chanced a look around the tent. Elowen was strolling away toward the castle, and Simeon had a faint smile on his face, the expression one of private, gentle satisfaction.
Jealousy flared in Theo, hot and foolish and distracting.
It made him angry. He felt ashamed of his weakness, first threatened by a fool like Lord Bertrand, now by a servant?
He had to quell this childish jealousy. He remembered how refreshing he’d found Elowen’s light and playful manner that afternoon, because it was so unusual.
But the way she’d spoken to Simeon just now had been so natural.
He would almost have said they’d spoken with the ease of friendship, which made no sense given their relative stations.
He was embarrassed by how much he wanted her to speak to him in that comfortable way, instead of with the cautious politeness he usually received.
The realization of how much he wanted her approval made him recoil, the sensation close to fear. You can’t pursue what you want, he reminded himself. That will lead to disaster for more than just you. It’s not about your desires, but your duty.
But he couldn’t seem to hold on to the assurance when he remembered the elation he’d felt when he saw Elowen cheering him on. He needed to be careful or he’d be in danger of caring too much about both the tournament and his emotions.