Page 36 of The Sun King's Noon

Chairs scraped. Barlow slung an arm around Sarn’s shoulders. As they exchanged a joke, Ivelle rolled her eyes at them and stalked out. Dianara extinguished the glow from their staff and gave Kaelen a faint smile.

“Is Corwin awake?” they asked. “I had hoped that…that he might come to greet me?—”

“Corwin is abed by now.” Kaelen crouched to collect Dianara’s packs. “Probably snoring, oblivious to the hopes of others, the fool that he is.” He bumped shoulders with Dianara. “I can wake him if you like. Pour a bucket of water over his head.”

Dianara chuckled. “There is no need.” Their eyes glowed purple, and the packs pulled away from Kaelen, levitating a foot off the ground. As Dianara headed to the door, the packs floated in tow. “Good night, Kaelen.”

Richard blinked at the exchange. Were Dianara and Corwin friends? He didn’t think he’d ever seen them so much as exchange a word. Dain clapped Richard’s shoulder twice, then followed Dianara. Kaelen, however, stayed at the threshold, brows furrowed at Richard.

Despite all their earlier arguments, fondness welled, and Richard’s voice was soft as he said, “Go to bed, Sir Knight.”

Kaelen’s throat bobbed. “You ought to do the same, my king.”

“I shall be up soon.”

Kaelen bit his lip and took a half-step forward before hesitating. He bowed his head. “Goodnight, my king.”

His footsteps retreated down the corridor.

Richard remained in his chair, chin propped on his fist. He studied the map. The red line marking Gloamvarn’s border had been drawn too thin. And on the other side were Ardenia’s villages, towns, farmland, rivers, forests. Parents mending holes in clothes. Children who would whine for breakfast in the morning.

A whisper curled against Richard’s ear, its intimate cadence sparking shivers up his spine. Ghostly fingers traced the side of his neck, and the Lumeron prickled.

“Build your little alliances if you will. Prepare your little armies and whet your little swords. The veil will fall, beloved. And you, and all of yours, will be mine.”

Richard spun around, chest heaving, nails digging deep into the obscene mark on his neck. But there was no one there. There never had been. Just his own ridiculous mind shaping enemies from thin air.

Steadying his breath, Richard sank back against his chair. Thoughts tangled into each other, each thread knotting further. What if Briony’s secret was more terrible than he thought? What if the Sanguis Order attempted to seize his sister again? What if Ardenia could not secure allies? What if Elara decided to return to Estara with Penelope? What if he was forced to imprison her? What if she and Corwin and Briony unearthed the truth of Estara? What if Galdran cornered him once more?

Richard did not move from the chair. He stared at the map, at the red line, until the candles burned to stumps and the room went dark. Until the dark softened to grey, then warmed into golden streaks as dawn’s light crept through the windows and illuminated his trembling hands.

CHAPTER 16

The sky was brilliantly blue, and the outer courtyard’s banners barely stirred. Richard had never seen the flagstones shine so white, nor had he ever seen such a large crowd assemble for a foreign delegation. Servants gathered at the back, some peering from balconies and windows. Soldiers lined the walls and parapets. The whole High Council stood stiff to Richard’s left, and Dain and Kaelen stood to his right, fully armoured. As Kaelen tried to comb his hair with gauntleted fingers, Dain elbowed him and hissed to stand straight.

Richard considered leaning past Dain’s bulk to give Kaelen a word of comfort. After all, meeting one’s ancestral people had to be daunting. But his siblings were clustered around him, and they’d likely react with unbearable teasing. Already, Corwin was whinging about the accursed heat, and Elara was chiding Briony to stop yanking on her collar. Richard could understand Briony’s discomfort. He himself had been laced into a cream doublet with an itchy sequinned collar. And his attendants had dabbed so much powder under his eyes that they stung.

“Your Majesty must cease reading by candlelight at impossible hours,”the chief attendant had reprimanded.“No powder of mine can make up for lost sleep.”

Beyond the open gates, the city roared. The people of High Ardenia, Richard had been informed, were packed thick along the road leading up to the castle, pressing against rope lines and soldier cordons. Now, their applause, mingled with shrill whistles and laughter, carried over the courtyard’s walls.

Naradesh.

Of all the delegations, theirs made Richard most nervous. Frostheim had always been familiar, their friendship old and boisterous. The Sylari had belonged to storybooks and wonder. But Naradesh, a realm of ancient palaces, of forests with talking beasts, of astronomers who mapped the stars. No letters had passed between Ardenia and Naradesh in living memory.

And now their king rode through Richard’s city.

Briony jumped up and down. “I want to see the elephants!”

Corwin snorted. “You need only look in a mirror.”

In unison, Richard pinched Corwin’s ear, while Elara delivered a heavy clout to the other.

“What was that for?” Corwin yelped, wrenching Richard’s hand down. “I was jesting!”

“Do so once more,” Elara snarled, “and I shall rip out your tongue.”

Corwin scowled. “She called me a clown with absurdly large ears just an hour ago—” He faltered on noticing Briony wipe her nose with a sniffle. “Oh, come now, I was only teasing.”