Chapter 3
Chapter three
Alfrie
The horsehair string of the bow slices the tips of my fingers as I pull the bow taught, elevating my elbow, aligning it with my ear. I narrow my gaze at the target and release the arrow, relishing in the swooshing sound the wood makes as it speeds past my head.
A dense fog rolls in from the churning water of the sea and hangs low in the air making it difficult to see if I hit the target.
I tilt my head, elongating my ears to their natural pointed state, only for a moment, and listen for the satisfying clunk of metal sinking into the tightly coiled straw. But I don’t hear anything. “Damn.”
“Almost made it. You need to pull the arrow so close it brushes your cheek when you release.” Leer rolls up the sleeves of his black collared shirt to his elbows and pulls an arrow from his quiver before lining up the shot.
“Watch and learn.” He squints his blue eyes, and his dark brown hair blows up slightly around his pointed ear as he releases the arrow into the fog.
He turns to me, holding a finger in the air.
“Wait for it—there.” He smirks, a dimple creasing his left cheek, and slaps me hard on the shoulder as he digs into his quiver for another arrow.
I rake my hand through my hair and frown toward the distant targets.
“Your owl sight makes it easier to see through the fog.” I pull an arrow from the pack strapped to my back and draw it back against the bowstring, the wood pressing against my cheek.
I release it just as Leer puts his hand on my shoulder and the arrow shoots straight down, lodging into the dirt.
He cringes, “Sorry.” He draws his bow. “I was only going to point out that you could also see through the fog if you’d shift into a form other than human.
It’s honestly disturbing the way you prefer to stay in such an inferior shape.
” He shoots and the arrow hits the target with a loud crash a moment later.
I open my mouth to respond but don’t get the chance. A servant races down the hill toward us from the palace and stops short of Leer, dropping into a bow. “Your Highness, your father, His Majesty, approaches.”
King Hardin strolls into view from out of the fog, his black overcoat unbuttoned to reveal a white shirt beneath.
His light blue eyes mirror Leer’s and their vibrance is in stark contrast to the monochromatic grays and blacks of the court.
The servant stays bent low to the brown grass as Hardin nears and announces the king’s presence when he stops in front of us.
“Thank you, Gill. You may go.” Hardin nods to the servant and he backs away from us, still crouched low and careful not to turn his back to the Royals.
“Father.” Leer dips his chin to the king, and I bow.
Hardin crosses his arms over his chest, assessing our dirty trousers and dusty boots from traipsing along the dead grass and mud to fetch the arrows from the targets. He glares in my direction. “You were supposed to have him upstairs to meet the tailor ten minutes ago.”
I swallow, keeping my gaze to the ground. “Apologies, Your Majesty. We’ll go meet him immediately.”
Hardin emits a gruff sigh. “See that you do.” He turns his attention to Leer.
“You’ll be fitted for a new dinner jacket to wear tomorrow night.
” He waves his hand in front of us, gesturing to our appearance.
“A bath would be nice too. For both of you. The three of us will leave for Masseda after dinner this evening.”
I stiffen and stand straight, but I continue to avert my eyes from him. “Your Majesty? Is it absolutely necessary I come along? I—”
“Yes. It’s necessary. I’ll be occupied, and someone needs to keep on eye on my wayward son.” His eyes turn into slits, and he frowns at Leer who rolls his eyes in response. “And you’ll not question my decisions again. Is that understood?” His tone is smooth and even but holds a deathly calm.
I swallow thickly. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty.” I don’t even have to look at his face. The angry weight of his stare threatens to force me to my knees.
Hardin turns to leave then glances back over his shoulder. “Alfrie, fetch the arrows and clean up out here. Leer, the tailor awaits.”
Leer shrugs, spinning an arrow in his hand. “Fine. I’m coming.” He raises his eyebrow at me, conveying his annoyance with his father and I smile tightly.
Leer follows the king up the hill to the palace, and I jog over the damp grounds toward the targets, picking up stray arrows on the way.
I have an armful of weapons held to my chest and I yank on the end of the last arrow lodged in the center of the target.
Not a second after I pull it free, air whooshes a mere inch from my head.
My heart leaps into my throat, and I drop the load of weapons when an arrow slams into the straw bullseye directly in front of me.
I gaze into the fog, to see who almost took my head off, but I can’t see anything through the haze. Then Leer’s voice sounds from up the hill. “Alfrie! I could’ve easily killed you. You really should pay more attention to your surroundings.”
“I don’t understand why I must accompany you and your father to Masseda.
” I pace around Leer’s bedchamber while his tailor fits him for a brand-new evening coat.
I’m so tense that I can’t sit still. Perhaps it’s because I was nearly decapitated twenty minutes ago.
I shake my head to rid myself of the thought.
“Please, will you just relax? I need you tomorrow night. What if I get there and the princess thinks I’m unattractive?
Or rude? Or worse, what if the princess turns out to be a hideous beast who tries to burn me alive with dragon fire?
” Leer laughs at my reflection in the mirror he’s facing, and his wide grin brightens his blue eyes.
I halt my nervous pacing and meet his gaze in the mirror, smiling. “Dragon fire? Seriously?” I know he’s joking but given all I’ve heard about the Princess of Masseda, it wouldn’t surprise me. By all accounts, she’s rude and spoiled. More so than usual for a Royal. I’m sure Leer could do better.
“Hey, it got you to smile, didn’t it?” He smirks at me then proceeds to adjust the sleeve length of the velvet red coat pinned around him. “Besides, I’m not sure why you’re so anxious. It’s not like you’re meeting your future wife. And what else would you rather be doing over the next few days?”
I bite the inside of my cheek and focus on the deep gray carpet under my bare feet. “I have a ton of work to do…medicine won’t make itself.”
I sigh and resume pacing in small circles around Leer’s grand rooms. The thought of posing as a pretentious Seelie courtier at yet another fancy dinner makes my palms sweat.
Leer steps down from the pedestal and hands the coat to the tailor. He turns back to the mirror and fixes his chocolate brown hair, barely concealing the hint of wickedness in his blue eyes. “You’re always working. You need to have some fun, my friend.”
It amazes me how relaxed he is about the pending marriage. Excited even. As if he wasn’t in bed with a random courtier just last week.
As if reading my mind, his hand stills over the hair just above his pointed ear and he pins his gaze on me. “Oh, did you take care of that teeny indiscretion from a few nights ago?”
He really means to ask if I paid off the three tree nymphs to be discreet about their jaunt with Leer and the afore mentioned courtier. I hold his gaze for a moment. “Yes. Of course, I did.”
He looks pleased and smooths his hair once more. “Good lad. Now go and get dressed.”
I put my hands into my trouser pockets and stroll toward the sitting room. The suit I’m supposed to wear tomorrow night is laid out on the sofa. The stark white button-down shirt, perfectly pressed pants, and jacket mock me as they wait for me to don them and pretend to be someone I’m not.
The suit is Leer’s, of course.
“Alfrie?” I don’t realize that Leer's standing beside me until his hand is on my shoulder.
“I don’t suppose I have a choice in the matter.”
He smiles tightly. “Nope. Now, put on the suit. It’s a long ride to Masseda.” He slaps me on the back and goes back to preening in the mirror.
I sigh. “Fine. But I’m not wearing this. I can’t keep acting like a courtier.”
His brow furrows. “What did you have in mind?”
“You look ridiculous.” Leer laughs at me as I approach the carriage that’s been readied for the journey to Masseda.
He stands near the footman with one boot perched on the step stool.
His new red velvet dinner coat is draped over his arm, enhancing his regal appearance, and though he isn’t clad in the array of medals or sashes that come with his title, no one would guess he isn’t the Crown Prince.
“I would look even more ridiculous in the suit you picked for me. Besides, if I have to accompany you, I’ll do so as an armed guard.
You can never be too careful—who knows when someone might shoot dragon’s fire your way?
” The heavy metal of the helmet I borrowed from the palace barracks muffles my voice.
“Do you even know how to use that?” He lowers his gaze to the long blade of steel at my side.
“Of course, I know how to use it.”
“Really? The last time we trained with swords, you nearly chopped off your own foot. Have you even picked up a sword since?” He raises his brow, working his jaw as he steps down from the stool, casually placing his hands in his pockets. He stares at me for a moment, waiting for me to break.
He stares at me.
I stare back. “Okay so maybe I’m not the best swordsman.
But I can hold my own. As I recall, you were the one to almost take my foot off.
You were such a small faeling back then—you could barely lift the thing.
” I chuckle and smirk at him from behind the helmet.
It’s stifling, and I yank it off of my head.
“I think I may have to wait until we get there to put this back on.”
“Or you could stop being…well, you. Just for the next couple of days. Come on, Alfrie. Is being a courtier truly that bad?”
Yes. But I can’t say that. I sigh, “I guess not.”
He rests his hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“You know how much I value our friendship.” I nod, and he continues, “But you are my squire, and I need you to be there for me tomorrow night, but not as a guard. Can you do that?” I nod again, and he jerks his chin back toward the castle. “Please go change. I’ll wait.”
So, I do. I’m nothing if not his faithful servant.