It was Nina who stopped Adrian’s saunter through the crowd. He saw her among them, moving through them in that yellow dress as smoothly as a sweet-faced pickpocket in Al’Constantine’s crowded streets. He made sure not to turn his back on her but didn’t change his swagger or the counts between his bites of the apple. He wanted to keep with the beat in his head, keep the agility of his sweeping feet, and the swaying movements. He was practicing without looking like he was practicing. And she was watching him more closely than the princess was.

  Adrian decided to take his chances when a wagon of soldiers was crossing through the market with a quickened ducking spin. She was waiting, like the long-legged little Red Spider she was, shaking her head at him with a grin. How did she get there so fast?

  “You’re pretty good for a palace brat.”

  The wagon creaked past them followed by grumbly marching soldiers. Adrian noticed several of them eyed him with glares. Likely because of how he marked their former officer. He met those glares without expression around her before answering with a chomp of his apple to say with a full mouth between chews, “Impressed?”

  “A bit,” Nina had widened her green doe eyes. They weren’t looking at him while still looking at him. “I wanted to take the opportunity—in public view—to say I’m sorry for attacking you.”

  “Twice,” Adrian reminded her.

  Nina rolled her eyes. There was a lot of pride in her smile. “Yes, both times.”

  “And crashing my boat…”

  “Yes, that, too.”

  “Throwing my food at me.”

  Nina was glaring now.

  Adrian took another bite of his apple. There weren’t but a bite or two left. “And my shield. My helmet. My books. My set of…”

  “…Don’t push your luck too far,” Nina crossed her arms beneath that glare. “Some of that, you deserved.”

  He laughed. “How, exactly?”

  “Sneaking out of a city in the middle of the night on a stolen boat, for one,” her slightly darker red brows were raised at him, but the glare remained.

  “I bought it from the thief fair and square. My conscience is clear.”

  “And the middle of the night part?”

  “Tolls are cheaper and less traffic.”

  “You mean bribes are cheaper.”

  “You say fruit,” Adrian took the last bite of his apple and smiled before tossing the kern to the bushes between two houses, “I say apple.”

  That made her shake her head, but there was a hint of a smile. “How are you the ward of a Paladin and the son of a Cleric?”

  “Well, when two people love each other very much, they get married and then go to their bedroom and…”

  Nina stopped him with a sharp, “That’s not…”

  “That food was very dear to me. The shield wasn’t as dear to me as it was to the King, who gave it to me when he got his new one. But the food. That hurt me right here,” He tapped his heart at her.

  She had to tuck her lips not to laugh. “Well, I’m sorry for all of it and I’m glad that was all I hurt.”

  Adrian put a hand to the softening lump on his head. “And here. To be honest, that’s the one that seems to be lasting the longest.”

  To that, she answered harshly. “Good. Maybe you’ll think twice about bribery and working with thieves the next time you travel.”

  “It was the second time that gave me the idea,” Adrian pleaded as if she should have already known that.

  That made Nina bite her lip at him with a furrowed brow before deciding not to say another word and sink back into the crowd.

  Adrian laughed as he watched her go. That was quite satisfying. He wondered how her slick mind was wrestling with that. He likely sounded scandalous to her. Whimsical even. Good. He liked keeping her on her toes for a bit. Serves her right. A stick bounced off his head.

  “Adrian!” Hugo called from the building that had a fur trader’s sign, surrounded by others who looked their age. He waved when Adrian looked his way.

  Adrian beamed and trotted over to him. They were all gathered where crates and barrels were lined in stacks beside the stone building. Some were sitting on the crates or barrels, others were standing. One had a long stick in his hand, another was using a knife to carve chunks off of a crate he was sitting on. They were giving him odd glances. Some were curious, others had the looks of gauging his worth, while others seemed just as happy as Hugo to have him join them.

  “I want to introduce you to my friends,” Hugo put a hand over his shoulder and led him to the group. He pointed as he said their names, “My cousins Samma and Damon. Chase Greshon and his twin brother, Andre. Dalfur Fabron. Bruce Gervaise. And that’s Raphael Villiers.” They each waved and Adrian nodded.

  “You old enough to use that thing?” Andre pointed, sitting on a barrel with swinging legs.

  Adrian half glanced to the falchion handle sticking from his coat and shrugged. “I was always told I could poke my eye out with it.”

  A couple of them chuckled. Andre, Bruce, and Dalfur exchanged glances. The brutes of the group, Adrian estimated.

  Hugo waved his hand at them and took his place on one of the crates. “He was the King’s ward before he came to Talkro. He knows how to use it.”

  “Prove it,” Dalfur narrowed his eyes and crossed arms that made Adrian tilt his head. The man had arms thick as an ox and the chest to match them.

  “Blacksmith?” Adrian raised a finger from his side. Dalfur nodded.

  “He no need to. Karl learned his lesson well enough from it. Believe you me,” Hugo tapped the side of a fist on Andre’s barrel.

  “I saw you talk to Maud,” Dalfur pressed.

  Now Hugo was on his feet, nose to nose with Dalfur. “Princess Maudeline to you, Fabron.”

  “You’re no knight yet. Back down before I make that something you’ll never be, little Vorner.”

  Adrian drew his sword, making it sing and the two leapt sideways. Wide eyes were on him as he shot a fierce, cold glare into Dalfur’s eyes. “I marked a knight for attempting to dishonor the Princess. Ask yourself what I will do to a blacksmith. You will give her proper respect or will find yourself permanently reminded what respect means.”

  “This is between him and me,” Dalfur tried to sound strong. He was shaking at the sight.

  “When it comes to the Princess, it becomes between you and me or you and God, depending on how fast you wish this to end.”

  “Plow me, Dalfur, back down,” Andre motioned.

  Dalfur took a step back, muttering, “Princess Maud. I saw you speaking with Princess Maud. You seem to be on good terms with her. I used to be her friend. Thought maybe she’d be my wife one day.”

  Hugo waited until Dalfur sat on the ground and leaned against the wall before returning to the crate. Adrian sheathed his sword and looked for a spot for himself. Andre shifted to another barrel and pat the one beside his with a nod.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “You know when that all went away,” Hugo tossed something. “So, shut up about it.”

  “Marked,” Andre blinked at Adrian. “What does that mean?”

  Adrian reached in his pocket. Only books. He was hungry again. He sat on the barrel with a shrugging, “I cut his face during the duel so all would see that he tried to destroy her reputation. If he had done more than he did, I would have killed him.”

  “Karl’s a good fighter,” Chase said. “I’d seen him practice with his men. Sure he didn’t just let you win?”

  Adrian shrugged. “Maybe,” He grinned. “Would mean he has a shred of honor if he did. Why?”

  “They won’t teach us to fight,” it was Raphael who spoke up. “They’ll learn Hugo, maybe. But the rest of us, they barely let use our spears in the hunt.”

  “With good reason,” Hugo huffed.

  “Our fathers plowed everything,” Dalfur kicked dirt. “I wish I had never listened to him.”

  “Oh, come off it!” Chase threw a rock at him that bounced past him. “We all know why you carried the pillar, Dalfur! Don’t even try to pretend otherwise. Tomorrow, you’ll have yourself another woman and you best let her go the moment you get that kiss.”

  “You carried the pillar? What pillar?” Adrian leaned to see Dalfur’s pouting face.

  Dalfur bit down on his lower lip. “Father and I were carrying the longest pillar for the cross we were going to crucify the King on before we knew he was our king.”

  “The night I told you about,” Hugo said to Adrian. Then to the others, “I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

  “He forgives you, you know,” Adrian looked them over. Their heads turned, even Dalfur.

  “She doesn’t,” Dalfur shook at himself.

  “Not once Balian and our Pas attacked them,” Samma was on his feet to kick a stack of crates no one was sitting on. “Plowing arses! Only Raphael is free of that! Should’ve never happened. All of it!” He turned on Adrian. “We ran! All of us, in case you’re wondering. As soon as Balian swung on her mother, we ran. Now, we have nothing because why? Land? We have none for it. Plow our fathers for their pride in this plowing shit village and thinking the King was under their boots. I’m tired of smelling like fish.”

  “Hear, here,” they didn’t sound happy about saying it, but Adrian could feel the agreement among them.

  “If we could,” Chase took a deep chunk of wood from the crate with his knife, “We’d show the King where our loyalty should’ve been from the start. But we followed our fathers with those pillars and torches cause we knew no better then. Now, we just want to stand by him. And our Princess. She’s of the blood and dirt we came from.” He held his knife up at Adrian, the tip aimed at his nose, “You have an eye for her, you best be worth it, because there be no knight who’ll stop us from marking your face or worse if you do what we found out he did. Only reason we haven’t taken our own shots at him is because you and the army done it before we had our chance.”

  Another, more resounding, “Hear, here.” That made Adrian grin.

  “Is there a law that says you can’t learn to fight?” Adrian asked.

  There were a few shrugs. Chase began tapping his knife into the crate between his legs. Hugo drew in a long breath. Samma was furrowing his brow, deep in thought. Raphael was blinking through something in his head. It was Dalfur who shook his head.

  “They just won’t let us join the ranks,” Dalfur said with a long breath. “I tried. Captain Gerard said no as soon as he saw me. ‘No Talkrois in my ranks,’ he said. And that was that. Truth is truth.”

  “Truth is truth,” was echoed.

  “But you have spears?” Adrian cocked a brow at them. They all nodded. “And you hunted with them?”

  “When the King lets us,” Andre answered for them.

  “Only when the King lets us,” Hugo put weight to it. “Otherwise, Raphael is the only one allowed to hunt by himself to a certain amount.”

  Adrian nodded. He leaned to look at the crates, centered on the one that Chase was carving into. “Are these used for anything?”

  “What?” Chase leaned to look at the splintered bits he had pulled off the one he was sitting on.

  “The crates?” Bruce tapped on the one he was sitting on. “Why?”

  Adrian grinned. “I might have a bad idea.”

  “I love bad ideas,” Andre’s eyes twinkled.

  “Not if they get me thrown in the lake with my wrists shackled to the stocks,” Bruce was quick to remind the others. “He might be a noble with how he’s dressed, but we be common folk—not even landed anymore—so, bad idea to him could be death for us.”

  “That depends,” Adrian stood and looked them over. “You all say your loyalty is to the King and the Princess.”

  They each looked up to him with faces filled with truth in their nods. Not one hesitated, not even the youngest, who looked barely fifteen. But Adrian remembered being that age with a dozen battles behind him.

  “Well, then,” He held out a hand for Chase to give him the knife.

  Chase raised a brow as he gave it to him. Adrian motioned for them each to stand.

  “Here and now, I challenge you, before each other and God as your witnesses, to swear: that none—not your future wives or children, not your own ambitions, pride, or histories—shall come before King Dietrich and Princess Maudeline, their children and any they deem worthy, no matter the cost, whether it be all that you know and love, even if it means your life, that you will live for them and defend them to your last breath.”

  Hugo regarded the knife in Adrian’s hand. “That sounds like an oath.”

  “Do you swear it?” Adrian held the knife handle for him.

  Hugo straightened with pride and took the knife with a turn that swept over the hesitant faces of the others. “I do,” He pulled it across his palm and held it up for the others to see the blood trickling from his mark. He showed it to Adrian, beaming. “I swear to God that I will give everything for them to my dying breath.”

  Bruce came forward, nearly the same size as Dalfur but a little shorter. He took the knife and looked up to Adrian. “I swear it, too.” He cut his palm and held it up. They cheered.

  Samma. “I swear I will.” His head cocked and ears perked, holding him for a breath, when he finished his cut.

  Damon. “To my dying day and the next.”

  Chase shoved in front of Andre and scooped up his bloodied knife with a grin aimed at Adrian, “I swear that I will defend the King and the Princess and all they hold dear until my last breath. So help me, God.” And he pulled it deep across his hand. He pressed the bloody knife against Andre’s chest as he stepped back with a chuckle.

  Andre shook his head with a wide grin. “I swear to God, I will. Like a Paladin, I swear from this day until my last and beyond.” And he cut his hand.

  Raphael regarded it for a moment, took a deep breath, holding the point to his palm with a wince. “I swear…that I will…defend the King and the Princess…and their family…and be loyal…to my dying breath…”

  “Cut already,” Chase shouted.

  “Come on, Damon did it and he cries when ma guts a rabbit for dinner,” Samma called.

  “Do not, shut up,” Damon swatted at him. Everyone laughed.

  “If you haven’t the heart,” Adrian took a step close to Raphael to whisper, “There is no shame in it.” He said louder so the others could hear, “This is an oath to God that cannot be broken. You will not shame him for not taking it. Not all are willing and not all should be. There is more honor in knowing what you are not capable of than there is in trying to do what you will fail at if it has other lives at stake.”

  Raphael’s eyes were red when he looked into Adrians before pulling the blade deep across his hand. “I swear it with all my heart and soul.”

  “You’re fools,” Dalfur tossed a stick and shoved past them toward the market.

  Adrian took the knife from Raphael and held it out for Dalfur. “You wanted her for your wife and yet are unwilling to lay down your life for her now? Which heart was changed that night?”

  Dalfur looked down at the knife for a moment. “You think this will make any difference to anyone out there? To the Princess? We will always be the ones who tried to kill them to her. No matter what we do, that’s what she’ll see. I carried the pillar that would have crucified the King. You say he forgave me? Well I say you’re a fool to believe that. And I know she’ll never see it in her heart to even speak to me and I will always love her. That never changed.”

  Adrian shook the knife handle for him. “Then prove it even as she disregards it. She will never be your wife and none would blame her for refusing to have you in her sight, not even you. She will likely never know of this oath, nor of what you may one day do for her safety, but God shall hear and know both. It is yours and yours alone to bear.”

  Dalfur eyed him. “And then what? We all have cut our hands and made an oath. What, we’re Paladins then? Knights?”

  Adrian grinned. “Take the oath and find out.” Dalfur slowly reached for it, but Adrian pulled it back, “Not out of curiosity, but out of the willingness to make an oath to your death to serve and protect the King and the Princess and their family. And, trust me, the moment you make it, there’s no going back. You will be held to that oath.”

  “Give it here,” Dalfur took it. He cut. “I swear to all that is holy and God Himself.” He slammed the knife in Adrian’s hand with a splash of the blood spilling from his own.

  Adrian watched, waiting with a flick of his brows and wide grin. He knew the moment it happened because their eyes burst into wide saucers and their shoulders tightened together.

  All at once, they heard in their heads, ‘Your Oath is accepted.’

  “Now,” Adrian slapped his hands together. “How many of these crates do you think we can take apart for shields before anyone notices?”