“That wasn’t very long, what did she want?” Marla asked.
“I don’t know. It might have been a translation error, or maybe I didn’t understand, but she wouldn’t explain.” They were walking back to the barracks, the streets already quieting down for the evening.
“Well, what did she say then?”
“She was talking about how she’s been cleaning up her husband’s social blunders since they met, even arranging for three young women to have a safe place to raise his illegitimate children far away. He’s finally caught on that she’s doing something behind his back and has been speculating on what. She’s annoyed, said she won’t have her reputation tarnished by something she hasn’t done. Wants to have a little fun and worry about consequences later. I asked why she was telling me all that, and she said I would be ideal.”
“Really, Peter? You don’t know what she wanted?”
“No, why? Is it that obvious?”
“She wanted to have sex with you, silly.”
“What? Really? Oh.”
“Do you have a wife at home?”
“No.”
“A betrothed? Someone you’re courting?”
“No.”
“Someone you have your eye on?”
“No.”
“What, then, do you prefer the masculine?”
“No, why?”
“Just curious. This, on top of the number of nights we’ve shared a bed without you even showing interest in me; it’s just strange.”
“You think I should be having sex with Lady Patella right now?”
“Yes!”
“And I should have had sex with you every chance I had?”
“Yes!”
“Both are true at the same time?”
“Yes, why wouldn’t they be? It’s not as if we’ve the possibility of marriage.”
“My experience in this area is rather limited. Right now, my head is starting to hurt, so maybe we can revisit it tomorrow night.”
“I suppose we can work on your education then.”
“Yeah. Wait, what?”
Marla just laughed and picked up the pace, her chin high.
A carriage waited for Peter the next morning, complete with two men accustomed to dealing with luggage. His things were loaded before he finished his breakfast. On this, his third visit to the palace, he was taken to a completely different part and led up two flights of stairs and down a hall to a pair of decorated doors. They were opened to reveal a large room, nearly the size of the apartment he shared with two other men back home, with a hall leading out to the right. That hall led to four smaller chambers, though still excessive for their intended use, to Peter’s mind. One was a cozy sitting room, two were smaller servants’ quarters, and the fourth was the size of the other three combined yet still smaller than the antechamber. It was clearly meant to be his, as it contained a canopied four-poster that made a California king look reasonable.
“We can find you a runner if you wish, as your retinue is so diminished,” the castellan said.
“I don’t see the need, but if it is proper, who am I to argue? I should like some private time to get settled, however, if you don’t mind?”
“Of course, my lord.” The servants all withdrew, leaving Peter with Marla and Egbert.
“What am I to do with so much space? A dozen people could live in here comfortably!”
“That’s considered a small staff in some circles,” Marla said. “Now, what are we doing until noon?”
“I suppose we should settle in. Who knows how long we’ll be here but might as well keep up appearances.” Peter started poking around in crates and bags, locating the items he wanted in his bedroom. “Is there any chance I could get away with taking one of the servant rooms? Having such a large sleeping chamber is weird.”
“You can do what you want, Peter, the suite has been assigned to you. Rearrange the furniture, sleep in a bedroll on the floor, host parties, doesn’t matter. Except that people will see and talk. The stranger your choices, the more they will talk about the strange foreigner.”
“If that gets my petition dealt with faster, that’s good.”
“And if the emperor decides he’d rather keep you as a curiosity to entertain visiting dignitaries?”
“Worse than now.”
“What are you doing then?”
“Hoping to be strange but boring. I’ll sleep in that ridiculous bed. I suppose you each get your own room for once, if you want.” Digging through his pockets, Peter gripped a stone and sent his things zipping down the hall to his room. “Oh, I just thought of something. Marla, could you send an apology to Lady Patella? Some story about my translator not being perfect, maybe?”
“Of course! I had already thought of it but forgot to ask.”
“Thank you.”
Unpacking didn’t really take long. It mostly consisted of hanging his clothes in the wardrobe. He set his sword on the bed and untied the wolf-bear fur, spreading it out for the first time. The thought of it on his bed made Peter crinkle his lip, so instead he put it on the floor in the antechamber. The crate of dragon eggs was set on top and opened to reveal them. For good measure he dumped out his sack of gems, scattering them across the rug.
“What sort of shrine are you setting up?” asked a voice from behind him. Turning, he saw Celery.
“Shrine? Just a little display of some knick-knacks I picked up in my travels. What brings you here?”
“You’re about to participate in a sword duel.”
“Yeah, that’s not something I ever expected to happen. I’ve been training for months now, but still.” Peter sat on the wolf-bear skin and fidgeted with the gems.
“I’m not as good at healing as my grandmother, and even she would be hard pressed to heal the sort of wound you could wind up with.”
“Honeyhips usually turns up at such times, but I haven’t seen her since we reached the fishing village.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. You met her in the woods, right?”
“Yes.”
“And every time you saw her you were in the woods.”
“Yes.”
“Have you been in the woods since the fishing village?”
“Not really. Why?”
“I think her ability to come and go is tied to the trees.”
“Really?”
“Do you have a better explanation?”
“She only comes out when I’m alone. She doesn’t like the city.”
“She chooses to only be seen by you. Maybe she doesn’t like the city because it doesn’t have trees?”
“Oh. Maybe. I saw trees in the garden, though.”
“Maybe they need to be trees growing wild? I don’t know. I could ask my relatives, but they aren’t here. My point was, try not to get cut up too badly, I want to keep you alive. Now, where did this stuff come from? A wolf-bear fur, some dragon eggs, and a small fortune in uncut gems.”
“There was a mammoth stampede, a whole pack of wolf-bears chasing them. I fell in a pond, found a sword, and killed a few. The next time I saw Honeyhips, she gave me the fur. She travels with a wolf-bear named Bentley, so it was a bit of a big deal. The gems were a generous payment for efforts rescuing miners trapped in a collapse. Most are pretty low quality, I think. I couldn’t bring myself to smash the eggs after we killed the parents, but I hadn’t thought through what I would do with them. I’ve been talking about gifting them to the emperor.”
“Hmm. That might be useful. Where is your sword?”
Looking around, Peter realized it wasn’t part of his ‘shrine’. “I must have left it on my bed. I had been thinking about taking a nap.” He led the way.
“Oh, Celery, what are you doing here?” Marla asked.
“Peter’s taking me to his bed to show me his sword.” A coughing fit came from the room Egbert had claimed.
“Good luck,” Marla replied.
“What strange companions you have,” Celery commented as she shut the door behind them.
Picking up his sheathed sword, Peter pulled it free and examined the blade. It had been neglected of late, but he didn’t see any signs of rust.
“You found that in a pond?”
“The blade, yes. I had to put the guard, grip, and pommel on after cleaning it up.”
“There are echoes of magic in that blade. Nothing significant, but at one time it was likely enchanted.”
“Enchantments don’t last?”
“Using them can wear them out but can also keep them from degrading. They can last for years unmaintained, but rarely forever.”
“Oh. What did you want to see it for?”
“How do you hold it? Like, which hand goes where?”
Standing, Peter gripped the sword in demonstration.
“Hmm, yes, it could work. I’ll need two small or flat gems.”
Peter put his sword back in its scabbard and opened the door to return to the fur. He wasn’t sure why Celery had even closed it. They sat and dug through his pile until she was satisfied. Mumbling to herself, she closed her eyes and enchanted the two stones. Next, she pulled out a small knife and some wire. Taking his sword, she bent to work on the handle.
“Is that uncomfortable?” she asked.
Standing, Peter drew his sword and went through some cuts and guard positions. “No, it’s fine. Something’s different, though, what did you do?”
“The one under your right palm makes the sword feel lighter than it is. The one under your left repels other weapons, like when you try to touch two magnets together with one turned the wrong way.”
“That could be useful, I guess. Thank you.”
“I’ll be nearby in case you need healing. I’ll even consider healing Dink Dibbler if you wound him seriously enough.” Celery popped to her feet, kissed his cheek, and zipped out of Peter’s suite.
“Either that didn’t go well or that wasn’t a euphemism,” Marla said, peeking around the corner.
“Euphemism?”
“You took a woman to your bed to show her your sword. You do know that ‘sword’ is commonly used when people don’t want to say ‘penis’, right?”
“Oh, I didn’t catch that, no. Celery just wanted to put some magic into my sword. And make sure I understood her healing abilities aren’t as good as Honeyhips’.”
“She’s taken quite the liking to you.”
“Says the one who pinned herself to me before I woke up to meet her.”
“Hey, I did not. I was helping you while you were in town. I came to like you afterwards and saw my chance to get out of town for a while, maybe meet a husband.”
“I was only teasing. I haven’t exactly been paying attention to what you do when I’m not around. Have you had any luck meeting a man to marry?”
“Maybe. Not that I met many I’d even speak to if I didn’t need to.”
“Well, I hope you’re able to have the life you want. I’d appreciate it if you waited until I went back home, though. Imagine how much trouble I’d be in without you.”
“Exactly.”
“What?”
“You said it, not me.”
Peter decided he wanted that nap after all.
“There the ungentlemanly fellow is! What sword have you chosen?” Dink called out as Peter approached the appointed spot. A large circle was drawn in chalk on the cobblestones and a table was set up and covered with Dink’s swords. Peter drew his sword and showed it. “I haven’t got one of those!”
“It’s the only one I have. You’ll just have to make do.”
“No, that’s not how it works!” Turning, Dink addressed some servants. “Check the armouries. There must be one of these antiques around I can borrow.” The three men bowed and ran off.
“I see how it is, stalling and trying to worm your way out of it,” Peter said. It wasn’t like him, but he was feeling bolder lately and he didn’t like this Dink Dibbler.
Dink’s face turned red, and he sputtered. Storming off to his attendants, he hid from Peter’s sight.
A crowd was starting to gather, and Peter saw Lady Patella among them. He met her gaze and winked. She smirked before she could snap open her fan to hide it. In the background Celery could be seen examining a fountain that seemed to be working just fine.
Dink’s servants returned soon enough, followed by stuffy bureaucrats looking annoyed. After a great deal of huffing and wild gesticulating while having a hushed argument, one stomped off. A few minutes later he returned with an object wrapped in cloth. An impish grin on his face, Dink bared the blade and stalked into the circle. “Shall we get this over with, then?”
“Sure,” Peter answered, taking his place opposite.
Dink lunged toward Peter, as if expecting to impale him at that distance. Using his own sword to lazily brush aside Dink’s, Peter advanced and made a cut to his leading leg. To his credit, Dink easily hopped out of the way, demonstrating decent footwork and a good reaction time. A few more thrusts from Dink and his eyes lit up as if he had found Peter’s weakness.
Another thrust came far faster than any of the previous, and Peter stumbled as he sidestepped and brought his sword across to deflect it. There was pain across his left bicep, meaning he was likely cut, but Dink wasn’t letting up. He stepped back and thrust again. Ready for him this time, Peter was squeezing the gems in his hilt, willing them to engage in their intended function. A circular motion successfully deflected the thrust and came back around to sever both arms below the elbow.
Celery rushed over and picked up the hands, shoving them back in place and healing them enough to stay reattached. Leaving a stunned Dink on the ground, she checked Peter’s arm, snorting and tying a bandage around it instead.
“I think that settles that,” Peter said, and turned to leave.
Screaming from behind him made him pause and look back. He couldn’t make sense of the sight he was greeted with. Two of Dink’s servants lay dead, crossbow bolts sticking out of them. They had short swords in their hands, pointing at Peter. Palace guards pushed through the crowd and lifted Dink, carrying him off.
No one said anything, so Peter hurried off to his bed, too tired to deal with any more foolishness.
Unfortunately, foolishness followed him anyway.
Lady Patella was bustling along, two teenage girls following closely, and a young woman in a heavily embroidered dress rushed after. All four followed him not just right into his suite, but to his bed. He had pretended not to see them and hoped to get there safely, but they weren’t deterred by closed doors.
Complicating things further, Celery was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking around at the walls of his room.
“What do all of you want,” he asked, exasperation tainting his tone.
“I … wanted to double check your wound,” Celery answered awkwardly, clearly lying.
“Miss Estelle asked me to introduce you,” Lady Patella said stiffly, indicating the young woman.
The two teenagers held up empty hands and shook their heads when he looked at them. Belatedly realizing they were servants, Peter looked back to Lady Patella and Miss Estelle. “You chased me to ground, I suppose you’ll have your way with me, then?”
All four women’s eyes went wide and there was a great deal of sputtering and coughing.
“Seriously, you could have just called out for me to wait. Or sent a message later this afternoon.” Remembering Celery, Peter sat next to her. “Go ahead, check it if you must.”
“The emperor’s sister isn’t accustomed to waiting.”
“Yet she doesn’t mind chasing a wounded man through the palace?” Peter replied before the whole thing sunk in. “Wait, Miss Estelle … your brother is the emperor?”
An arched eyebrow and a nod, one corner of her mouth twitching up.
“Well, then, of course I would like to entertain you. This setting seems a bit improper, though. Shall we remedy that?”
The women all looked at each other, and the teenagers stepped out and shut the door behind them. Celery was still holding his arm, and Peter had a feeling things were about to get weird.