Chapter Two
THREE SWIFT KNOCKS were Killian’s only warning of a visitor before his office door swung open and his lieutenant stepped through.
Killian sat at his desk, facing the door.
At the very center of the palace, stood the Guard’s Keep, a tower that climbed high into the sky providing a vantage point over the entire estate.
His office was at the top of the tower, large windows on each wall, overlooking both courtyards and giving him a view of every inch inside the inner palace.
Completely at ease, Loran smiled, showing off the two dimples in his cheeks and big soulful brown eyes. Loran’s flax colored hair was half pulled back in a simple braid, as was standard for the Guard, showing his long pointed ears.
Killian and Loran wore matching uniforms of fitted black, armored fabric with high collars and gold stitching. The royal family’s crest over his heart. A single sword was strapped to Loran’s back while Killian usually wore two.
Seeing Loran, Killian put aside the reports left for him by the night patrol to give his lieutenant his full attention.
“You asked for me, Captain,” said Loran, coming around Killian’s desk to sit on the edge to his left. Uncaring if he crinkled any of Killian’s reports with his backside.
“Yes,” said Killian, stiffly. “Yes, I did.”
Struggling for a moment, Killian tried to find the best way to start.
Loran’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong with you? You look sick.” Loran put the back of his hands to Killian’s face and then neck, checking for signs of something wrong. “Do you need me to take you over to Hokda for an exam?”
“Gods, no. Anything but that. I beg you.” Killian wrapped his hands around Loran’s wrists and pulled them from his face, returning them to the lieutenant’s side. “I’m not sick. I’m fine.”
Loran leaned back on his hands and gave Killian an appraising once over. He didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”
Killian scowled, then shifted in his seat and crossed his arms defensively. “I didn’t call you here for this.”
“Then what did you call me here for? Something fun I hope.”
“Oh, yes.” Killian lowered his voice and leaned in closer. “I’m sure you’ll have so much fun taking over my duties for a couple weeks.”
Loran blinked, taken aback. “What?”
“I have business outside of the palace. I’ll be leaving in two days time and I intend for you to be acting captain while I’m gone.”
There was a beat of silence. “You have business outside the palace?”
“Yes.”
“What business?”
“Personal business. What’s that face for?”
“In all the time I’ve served in the palace, you’ve never left on personal business.”
“Yes. Well. Nothing’s come up until now.”
“Where are you going?”
“My hometown,” said Killian shortly, not appreciating the interrogation.
“Where’s that?”
“In the south.”
Loran bit his lip, eyes alight with curiosity. “You’re not giving me much to go on here.”
“That’s because it’s not your business. I didn’t call you here to gossip about my personal life. I called you here to brief you on how to perform my duties while I’m gone.”
“I know how to perform your duties. How long do you think we’ve been doing this together?” Loran sat straighter. “And what personal life? You don’t have a personal life. You have work, and me, and the king. That’s it.”
Choosing to ignore that, Killian said, “I want you to add a few more men to Fyar’s escort as well as on night guard. I’ll tell the men not to speak of my absence more than necessary. The less people know, the better.”
Loran sighed, exasperated, but thankfully didn’t push further. “Have a little faith. They know better than to run their mouths.”
“I know they do. I just—” Killian trailed off.
“You’ve just never been away from the palace for this long. Yes. Yes. I understand. I’ll keep them in line.”
Killian pursed his lips.
Loran rolled his eyes. “Go take care of whatever it is you need to take care of that’s not my business and then hurry back. It’s only a couple weeks, Killian. We can handle that much without you.”
“I know you can.” Killian let out a long breath. It wasn’t them he was worried about. “I leave the palace in good hands.”
After briefing Loran on the specifics of what would be expected of him during Killian’s absence, he hadn’t been able to bring his focus back to any of the paperwork that he desperately needed to finish before he left.
His mind wandered, working over scenarios of what could possibly be waiting for him back home in Turell; each scenario worse than the last.
Killian had walked the palace perimeter twice before giving up and huffing his way over to the training grounds on the northeastern side of the palace. Loran had given Killian an offensively knowing look, but graciously allowed the captain to join the drills he was running with some of the Guard.
The Guard who exchanged looks behind Killian’s back and nudged at each other trying to convince someone to ask him what had him in such a mood.
No one was eager to volunteer for that particular honor.
Nevertheless, never one to miss an opportunity for a good fight, Dantel, a long and lean elf with a strong, handsome face challenged Killian nearly the moment Loran called that drills were over.
It was the perfect chance to work off a little steam.
Barred swords—even wooden training swords—Killian and Dantel sparred bare fist against bare fist.
Aggressive, Dantel had moved first. Using his entire body to try and force Killian out of the sparring circle, which would be an immediate loss for the captain. Dantel threw heavy handed punches and precise kicks aimed at Killian’s core.
Grunting under the weight of Dantel’s attacks, Killian plotted. As one of their newer recruits, Dantel was still young and too eager to prove himself, he was prone to dropping his guard after an attack. All Killian had to do was watch and wait.
Seeing Dantel twist away after landing a particularly nasty kick aimed at Killian’s ribs, he saw his chance. His fist connected. Killian felt Dantel’s nose break with a satisfying crunch before he dropped down low to the ground and swept his leg wide. Carrying Dantel’s legs out from under him.
Dantel went down hard on his back into the sand, his breath knocked out of him with a sharp gasp followed by a series of gurgling curses.
Loran called Killian’s win.
There came some loud cheers from the side, leering calls from the spectators that had gathered to watch one of their own take on their captain.
“That time was better,” Killian said, helping Dantel up. “You lasted almost a full minute.”
Dantel grimaced, blood dripping down his nose. His voice gravelly and wet when he spoke. “I’ll beat you one of these days.”
“Sure, you will,” Killian replied, clapping the young guard on the back. “Go get Hokda to patch you up.”
With a respectful nod to Killian and then Loran, Dantel retreated. His peers following his example and making themselves scarce before Loran decided they all needed more training after seeing Dantel lose his fight.
“That went well,” said Loran snidely as Killian approached.
“He’s improving,” chided Killian. Then, “Slowly. He may very well beat me someday. Someday far, far away.”
Loran humphed and crossed his arms over his chest. A sliver of the enil on his left wrist showing when his uniform sleeves rode up. All the King’s Guard had one, a single band, around their wrist or their ankle. Their own oath taken to Fyar the day that they joined the Guard.
Killian knocked his fists together, his grin spreading slowly across his face. “What do you say, Loran? Up for a fight? This would be your, what, two hundredth loss?”
“Or my two hundredth win.” Loran shot back, then shook his head.
“No. I have no intention of joining Dantel in Hokda’s office tonight.
” A sly smile crept onto his face, his eyes trailing down Killian’s body.
“But I could think of a few ways to burn off some of that extra energy you have. You’re always more fun when you’re worked up. ”
Catching Loran’s chin in his hand, Killian drew it up so Loran had no choice but meet his eyes. Loran winced a bit at the grip Killian had on his jaw, but his smile and the heat in his eyes always proved he liked it.
Killian’s breath fanned lightly over Loran’s lips, making the shorter elf shiver. “Let’s go have some fun then.”