Maud was glad to see Draka squinch his face up at her when he finally opened his eyes with a hiss. She was sitting on the edge of his bed, watching him.

  Sometimes, it was hard to remind herself that he was just a man. In her head, she still sees the pauper knight charging a village of spears to save her family, as if he were slaying a dragon or something amazing like that. But in that moment, lying there with skin that had paled and hair that had suddenly become gray sprinkled with auburn instead of the opposite, she saw how vulnerable he really was. It didn’t change how brave he had been that night. It made him braver.

  His hand reached for his left shoulder. She swatted it. He winced but let his hand down. She only shook her head.

  “I wasn’t that mad at you,” she smiled through the want to let tears flood down her face. “You didn’t have to die just so I’d talk to you again. You infant.”

  Valmond was beside him then, handing Alice a pillow he had fetched from his apartment in the fort. Adrian was at Draka’s feet on the other side of her. She stood from the bed to get out of their way.

  “I’ll try to be gentle, your Majesty,” Valmond said, going down on one knee to brace himself. “Are you ready?”

  Draka nodded. Valmond lifted Draka to sit up as Alice put the pillow against the wall behind him. Together, Valmond and Adrian slid him into the it. In the glow of the hearth fire, Maud could see Draka’s nod of thanks to them, then his apologetic look at her.

  “I’m just glad you’re alright,” Maud brushed his new grays from his forehead. “You finally look your age.”

  Draka chuckled, then hissed. Another reach for his shoulder and another swat of his hand.

  “How are there no hooks in here?” Alice grumbled to Valmond, a lamp in each hand as she went around the room in a circle. “I thought you contracted them to fix this place into…something better than this. The migrants live better than this. He’s our King.”

  Valmond only straightened his back and lifted his chin, “My dear Misses Dessinateur, I was told by his Majesty to have them concentrate on those migrants first.”

  “Mister Dessinateur,” Alice said it with an expression Maud knew she would one day have for her Karl. Gleaming eyes and pert smile, a hint of playfulness that only a husband and wife might have, and the constant want to be in each other’s arms. “I can get you a hammer if I must.”

  Valmond’s reply was a silent cock of his brow. Maud wanted to giggle at them as Valmond took one of the lamps from Alice, stealing a kiss on the way.

  “Fiend,” Alice blushed and tucked her head so that her braided brown hair nearly covered it.

  Maud sat back beside Draka. Draka only waved that he was alright where he was and she could go if she wanted to. She could have slapped him for that. Instead, she shook her head at him. She checked the pillow. Valmond had picked a good firm one for Draka to lean on. She swatted Draka’s hand again.

  “Let it be!” Maud growled at him. “You always pick at everything. No wonder you only have eight toes.”

  Adrian fell to the ground with a plop at the foot of the bed in a head tipped guffaw. “If only,” he said between breaths.

  Maud tried not to look at him. Every time she did, her heart skipped a beat and her breaths shallowed. His eyes were the same green and gold as Draka’s, but with flecks of blue, and his hair was practically the same color.

  When she arrived at the house with Alice and Valmond and saw him for the first time, she couldn’t take her eyes off of him, as if she were searching for every similarity. He walked like Draka. He stood like Draka. On first glance, he might have been Draka in his youth. But she saw the difference as starkly as if they were thrown at her. His brow was thicker than Draka’s. His eyes were deep set and further apart than Draka’s. His mouth was a different shape altogether, though he had an uneven thickness to them that made her blood rush. And, unlike Draka, his overbite was far more significant. His dimpled chin was more pronounced. He wasn’t Draka’s blood.

  “Master Adrian,” Valmond stood over the man with his hands behind his stiff back. “Would you be so kind as to help me with the chairs?”

  Maud followed Draka’s gaze to Adrian. Their eyes met. She swallowed at them. He had been staring at her. He slightly curled the edges of his gaping mouth. Maud quickly turned away before she began blushing. She knew that look now. It wasn’t the one Dalfur had when she had grown into a woman. It was the one Karl made the first time he saw her in one of the ball gowns Queen Isabella had given her.

  Valmond kicked him. “If you are done admiring the Princess, perhaps we can procure a way for her highness to be able to sit on something other than her father’s bed. Hmm?”

  “Yes, of course,” Adrian jumped to his feet.

  Alice quickly crossed the house to kiss Valmond on the lips, “Hurry back.”

  “We only need three,” Aurie called to him from the hearth, where she was stirring the stew. “Draka’s staying on the bed.”

  Draka rolled his eyes at that. He started to shift his legs to get up anyway. Aurie was quick enough across the room to bat his head the same time as Maud did. He rolled his eyes again and shifted them back.

  “And bowls,” Aurie shook her head at the door they closed behind them.

  “I brought enough of those, my Lady,” Alice said without missing a beat as she pulled the desk closer to the table. She set one of the lamps on it and turned to see how well it lit the table. “That should be well enough.” Then, she went to the pot and took up the stirring.

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  Aurie tapped Maud’s shoulder, “Go fetch his ointment. Might as well get it done now.”

  Maud went to the desk and opened the little cabinet at the bottom of one side. Inside was a bottle of ointment she had been taught by the Infirmarian at Strasbourg to make. It was a mixture of olive oil, eucalyptus, and chamomile, with more mint than she ever used in one thing at a time.

  Aurie unlaced Draka’s shirt enough to pull it off his left shoulder, down to the long scar from the many times Maud had to stitch him. Draka turned to the side with a nasally breath.

  “You forgot it when you went hunting, didn’t you?” Aurie’s disappointment was aimed at Maud.

  “Certainly won’t allow that to happen again, my Lady,” Alice said, as if she had anything to do with it.

  “He seemed like he was fine,” Maud brought her the glass bottle filled with floating mint leaves and flower petals. “Never complained the entire trip.”

  “I bet you didn’t,” Aurie glared at his smug grin before taking the bottle from Maud. She dumped some in her palm. She began rubbing it across his scar and over his shoulder. “You know better than to leave this behind.”

  The strong smell of the eucalyptus and mint filled the air as Aurie massaged it into his shoulder. Maud winced at how roughly Aurie pulled him to run it across his shoulder blade. Draka groaned. His face begged for Maud to make it stop. Maud only shrugged her shoulders, what am I supposed to do? She’s my mother, she never listens to me.

  Draka huffed another groan when Aurie let his shoulder go and wiped her hand on a cloth. She shook her head at him.

  “A week without it,” Aurie got back on her feet, “You deserve to feel a little pain if that’s what it takes for you to learn your lesson. An arm isn’t like a toe.”

  Maud put the ointment back in the desk. She was pretty certain she heard Aurie whisper to Draka, “I need you strong.” Or maybe it was, “she needs you strong.” The second one, for certain.

  Maud blinked it away. Every time she saw them together it was…odd. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she felt it in the air, felt it in the way they acted. Aurie becomes haughty and domineering to him and Draka becomes…enabling. And they always seemed in agreement with everything. No matter what it was, simple or as complex as the ‘Affairs of State,’ they would look at each other with that look. That look.

  “I put a bowl to cool for his Majesty,” Alice said as she adjusted the lamp on the desk again. She turned to look over her shoulder and back at the lamp. She moved a chair. Her head shook and she moved it back. “Something must be done about this, your Majesty. If you entertain any nobles, they will be insulted to have to accommodate here. Or worse, the barracks.”

  “He likes his house,” Maud defended him. Draka pointed with his right hand at her, nodding agreement.

  “She’s right,” Aurie was in Maud’s spot, sitting on the bed beside him. They were looking at each other that way again. “I think maybe this should be your last winter here. Talkro is not a capital and it certainly isn’t a proper place for a King.”

  “It is a proper place for Draka,” Maud squeezed between her mother and him. “He likes it here. This is his home. Plus, it’s not up to you, is it?”

  Aurie stood from the bed. Maud slid into the spot before the creases filled.

  “We have a peace treaty to broker, we have celebrations to host as the center of the Paladinate,” Aurie eyed both of them. Her eyes were pleading with his, “And you’re better protected behind walls of stone and a Paladinate cohort instead of this rabble of loyalists from the Baron’s Men.”

  “He wasn’t safe in Strasbourg,” Maud growled up at her. Draka put hand on her shoulder. She turned to him, “No, I don’t want you to go. Your place is here, with us. This is your home. You no need a palace to be a King.”

  “He actually does, Princess,” Alice was setting bowls on the table. “His kingdom is rather large and he needs proper staff and administration around him. None of that is here. And, he must entertain not only nobility of his own, but those of other kingdoms.”

  Maud sank. “I know. I just don’t want him to go away again. He almost died last time.”

  Aurie and Draka met eyes and chuckled at the same time. Maud’s brows pressed together.

  “Did I miss something?” Maud looked between them.

  “Dear,” Alice put a hand on her shoulder, “You’d go with him. You’re his daughter.”

  “I’m not, though, am I?” Maud gritted her teeth. “I’m just his neighbor who acts like his daughter and nobody has disagreed with it yet.”

  Another look between them, broken by Aurie huffing and putting her hands on her hips. “You didn’t tell her?”

  Draka shrugged. It was his, I didn’t see a reason to—shrug.

  “He had you legitimized,” Aurie shook her head, mostly at him. “You’re his legal heir until he fathers one.”

  “Wait, what does that mean?”

  Draka grinned as warmly as ever.

  “It means,” Aurie let out a long sigh, “That you are an actual Princess. He was supposed to tell you on the hunting trip.” Another shrug from Draka.

  “What about Pa?” Maud’s breath stuck in her throat.

  Worry filled both Draka and Aurie’s faces. Aurie rubbed Maud’s back, “We discussed it. He’s honoring an oath to your father by doing this. Your papers have your name blank so you can decide if you want to keep Clevlan. It would just be Clevlan-Luminis, instead. Just like our family now. But he named you his undisputed heir.”

  Maud nodded, able to breathe again. “I like that.” To Draka, “I wish you had told me before now.”

  Draka shrugged at her but he was looking at Aurie.

  “You’re a little shit, sometimes,” Aurie turned to help Alice set the table. Alice did her best to keep Aurie from being able to.

  “You wanted her to be there when you told me,” Maud grinned.

  Draka winked. Then winced. Another swat at his hand.

  She flicked his nose, “Leave it be!”