Chapter 6
Chapter six
Alfrie
“He was just here, Your Majesty.” I scan the ballroom for a third time in a final attempt to locate Leer by his red dinner coat. Typical. It’s just like him to ditch an event and leave me to clean up the mess his absence creates.
“You were to stay with him during our time here. Have you forgotten your responsibility to the Crown?” King Hardin sips a thick brown liquid from his glass then swishes the leftover around the ice.
He isn’t even looking at me. Or for Leer.
“It cannot be that difficult to keep an eye on him. He’s wearing a bright red coat, for goodness sake. ”
I take a deep breath to keep from losing it. I offer the king a slight bow. “Of course not, Your Majesty. I’ll locate him immediately.”
He turns away, dismissing me, and returns to a conversation with the King and Queen consort of Masseda. I start toward the exit and glance around the expansive throne room once more, pretending to continue my search, but my ears are perked to pick up pieces of conversation.
I cringe. Everyone in the room is gossiping about the princess’s hurried escape from the party. What’s worse is that her behavior seems to be something the court expects from their future queen.
I push through the crowd, the ball still going strong with noise from dinner plates and glassware clinking and courtiers laughing and chatting all around me.
The courtiers flitting about, dressed in the most elaborate, luxurious gowns and doublets in blacks and grays.
They merrily drink wine and laugh, dancing and flirting endlessly, in love with themselves and the falsities of their empty statuses at court.
I don’t belong here. I don’t even pretend to want to.
Yet here I am again, chasing after spoiled Royals.
I huff. What I wouldn’t give to escape to the privacy and comfort of my hidden room beneath the palace at Lanray.
I long for my wooden tables and glass vials.
To be alone with the hundreds of dusty medicinal books lining the shelves of my broken bookcases.
It’s the closest thing I have to feeling like myself. To feeling like home.
I spin in a tight circle. Focus. My mind works through a million different possibilities of where the two royal heirs could have wandered off to, or if they would even be together.
It’s unlikely, but there’s a shot. If I know Leer, he’s already wooed the princess, a few of her ladies maids, and maybe even a couple of male squires into his bed chambers.
For my sake, I really hope that’s not the case. I don’t even want to think about how angry King Hardin will be with me if the prince is found in an inappropriate position with the Princess of Masseda.
Then it hits me. The princess’s bodyguard. If she’s missing, he must be searching for her too. I all but run from the room and scan the long hallway for the black-haired male who looked frazzled after speaking with King Jeffery a bit ago. No doubt getting an earful from his own king.
The halls are empty, save for a handful of servants moving this way and that with their hands full of trays of sumptuous confections and after dinner drinks.
I jog a bit, hoping to somehow catch the Fae before he leaves the palace grounds.
Just as I turn a corner, I smack directly into a brass chest plate.
The breath is forced from my lungs and both me and the soldier are thrown back several paces.
“Apologies, My Lord.” The guard reaches out to steady me.
He’s just as tall as I am, but broader in stature, and perhaps a few years older.
His short black hair is damp and mussed as if he’s been running around, flustered, like I have.
I instantly recognize him from the party, anxiously conversing with the King of Masseda.
I clutch my chest over the area where the plate made impact. There’ll definitely be a bruise there tomorrow. I shake my head, waiting for my breath to return to my lungs. “Please,” I pant, “It’s my fault. And…I’m not a…lord.”
He offers a slight bow anyway. “Again, apologies, but I must take your leave.” He rushes past me, determination set over his features.
I call after him, “You’re the princess’s bodyguard.”
He pauses, turning his chin toward me from over his shoulder.
I step toward him. “I understand she’s missing. I’m also looking for someone.” I lower my voice and glimpse around to be sure no one can overhear us. “The Prince of Lanray. I thought. Well, it’s a long shot, but perhaps they’re together.”
The soldier nods then waves his hand, beckoning me to follow.