Hestan led them a short way to where his horse was tied up. Draped across the hind of the horse was a young buck. The organs and entrails had already been removed and the air was cool enough that there shouldn’t be an issue with spoilage for several hours at least.

  After making their way through the forest, the group re-entered the city through a gate much closer to the palace, successfully having avoided entering through the city’s main thoroughfares. Hestan spoke intermittently as they walked. Leif knew he should be selective about who he trusted, but the prince had a quality that made him feel like an old friend. He knew the inner workings of the city as well as any king or city patrolman, but he spent most of his free time hunting in the woods alone.

  Leif felt moderately better about their looming entry to the palace. Vigo wasn’t just a member of the court or the Danarian aristocracy, he was a close personal friend to the crown prince. It seemed that Vigo’s confidence about Leif's safety was reasonably grounded. Leif also knew that Maedelund relied heavily on Danarian shipping for their wine and other exports.

  Still, Leif wouldn’t feel comfortable, like there wasn’t an assassin’s blade behind every corner, until the Dragon’s Breath was sailing home, perhaps not even then.

  Leif and Vigo followed Hestan through several turns until they stopped before Norman’s Alehouse. The simple sign bore a painted horn of ale and was situated over the door which was set between large open-air windows.

  “Hestan,” Vigo’s head was cocked and his eyes poised to roll backwards.

  “Just a quick one, Vigo, so we can catch up before my father and sister get their claws into you. I have rights too, you know, I’m very important.” He climbed off his horse and handed the reins to the attendant who ran out, “Besides, I can’t let all this meat sit out for too long,” he waved to the buck draped across the rear of his horse.

  Vigo and Leif dismounted and followed him in. Long tables spanned across the space and though it was far from full there were numerous patrons drinking, talking, and laughing. A pair of enormous moose antlers was mounted over the fireplace and on each of the tables was a small horn which was curved so both the point and the empty opening faced upwards. A man sat in the corner by himself playing a merry jig on his flute. Despite being seated and the stiff gray hairs sprouting from beneath his cap, the flautist tapped and danced along to his own lively tune. Leif smiled at the revelry. It was a surprisingly pleasant break from the heaviness of his journey.

  They sat near the warm hearth. Not long after they had seated themselves, a bear of a man with a thick layer of light brown stubble approached them. He dried his hands on a towel that hung from his waist before he slapped Hestan’s back, “Good morning, my friend.”

  Hestan smiled warmly. “Good morning, Norm. These are some friends of mine,” He held up three fingers, “Just a quick stop today.”

  “Of course. We’ll bring ‘em right over. Enjoy.”

  Hestan scooped up a small tray filled with ten silver rings from near the horn on their table. He sat back and tossed the first ring towards the open hole in the horn. It bounced off the side and landed on the table. “So, where all have you been? Tell me everything.”

  Vigo regaled him of his journey. He spoke of the troubles in Penth, collecting Leif, and their journey to Sersk. By his questions, Hestan was most interested in the travel itself, and in how Sersk has developed since Danaria had purchased the port. “We receive letters with various updates on their progress but it’s probably time I returned to see it in person,” Hestan said almost to himself, as if making a mental note.

  A few moments later a pretty young woman with a long light hazel braid delivered three mugs of ale. “Thank you, Roslind!” Hestan smiled openly at the woman. She blushed and hurried back towards the bar.

  Hestan threw another ring and it clattered onto the table, missing the horn completely. Vigo sipped from his mug. “The Bakken’s are here then?”

  Hestan let out a breathy exhale and threw another ring, “I think father’s trying to learn how much of Boe is in Magnus versus his mother. If he doesn’t like what he finds…I don’t know what he’ll do. I think he is also trying to let Karalee have some measure of independence under his watchful eye.” He threw another ring and it sunk into the opening of the horn.

  One of a group of four at the other end of their table waved for Hestan’s attention and held up his own tray of rings along with two Danarian silver marks. Hestan nodded to him, then fished into his pouch and slapped two of his own onto the table.

  The man tossed his ring. It sunk into the horn’s opening. He grinned and tipped his mug towards Hestan before taking a long drink.

  Hestan waited until he finished before casually, almost lazily, tossing his own ring to the horn. It sunk into the hole just as neatly. The man at the other end of the table laughed. Again he threw and again his ring landed in the horn. Hestan matched him.

  The man’s smile left his face as their throws continued. He threw seven more rings. Only four made it into the horn. Hestan continued his lazy throws, making each of his rings into the horn. The man’s companions laughed uproariously and shook him before he made his last throw. It fell short, clattering into the table before rolling and stopping against the base of the horn.

  Hestan smirked. He leaned forward and tossed his own last silver ring. Leif could tell it wasn’t going to land in the horn until it hooked onto the tip of the other end and settled neatly below the horns point.

  The man at the other end of the table just shook his head and belted out a laugh. He leaned over and shoved his two silver marks across the table. Hestan caught them and returned a salute to the man before he turned back to Vigo and Leif.

  “What?” Hestan opened his hands innocently.

  Vigo tilted his head towards the door with a smirk, “Let’s go.”

  They followed Hestan to where Norman stood behind the bar. He motioned back to the man who had just lost the ring toss, “Norm, please deliver my friends there a round of drinks along with whatever’s left of this,” he set the stack of two silver coins down on the counter and the three of them departed from the alehouse and resumed their path to the palace.

  They came to the end of a long arching bridge that took them up to the palace plateau before passing through the southwestern palace gate. There was no fanfare as Leif may have expected. “The gates stay open,” explained Hestan, “the bridges allow the guards to see who’s coming from far enough away that if there is a threat, which there never is, they can react or address visitors with plenty of time. For me, my coming and going in this state is rather common at this point.” While Vigo and Leif were on foot, Hestan deftly guided his gray charger beside them. The horse was tall and powerfully built. Leif was not quite an expert in equestrianism but he could confidently say he’d never seen the horse’s equal, in poise or power. When Hestan noticed him admiring the beast, he reached down to pat the gray neck, “He’s no unicorn but he’ll do. Won’t you Mist?”

  Draped across the rear of the horse, behind Hestan, was Hestan’s kill. His downed buck had been a short distance away when Hestan had ambushed them. Hestan’s arrow had passed cleanly through the animal’s neck, severing its spinal cord, killing the deer quickly. Leif didn’t know if the impressive shot was skill or luck. He assumed the former.

  Beneath the ramp and pressed up against the southwestern palace wall was a stone moat with crystal clear water. It was fed by two small waterfalls that poured out from the palace walls on either side of the extended drawbridge. Somehow they had managed to construct a way for water to flow throughout the castle. As they crossed the drawbridge, Hestan spoke to one of the guards, “No announcements, Rafe, this one is a surprise.” The guard, dressed in an impeccably tailored uniform and a light layer of polished armor, nodded and winked. Vigo flipped him a coin which Rafe caught and tucked away.

  Inside the fortified walls, the keep was built as a large palace. Several towers rose up between the castle walls and the palace main, like outstretched fingers to the sky.

  “I’d accompany you to the palace but father apparently disapproves of my bringing a dead beast through the hall. I’ll meet up with you later.” Hestan and Mist peeled off, leaving Leif walking in pace with Vigo towards the palace.

  They ascended the stairs leading to the main entrance. The grand steps were smooth and fine and were almost unnecessarily large, curving outwards towards them. A woman marched out through the finely engraved wooden doors. She stood with the door to her back, holding it open for them with a beaming smile. “Welcome home, Vigo, so glad to have you back.”

  “Thank you, Sisil. This is Leif, he’ll be staying with us. Please put his things in the room next to mine and send the tailor up. We’ll also need to bathe.” Leif felt himself becoming nervous. A tightness settled into his chest and back. He forced it down, bloody hell, grow up.

  “Of course.” Sisil took their packs with another bright smile and marched away.

  Leif followed Vigo who stepped into the anteroom. “And where are we going now?”

  “We’re going to see the king. We showed up without warning but we’re not going to be shy or ill-mannered about it.” Vigo stood tall and straight. He was comfortable in this place. He belonged in this palace. Leif let out a slow exhale and tried to mimic him, but before he could protest, Vigo pushed open the large ornate doors to the great hall.

  The hall was a wonder all itself. It was magnificent and beautiful, all golds and reds, with ornate carvings of vines or flowers or birds climbing up each of the columns and across the ceiling. The southern wall had an upper and lower balcony and at floor level there were two enormous fireplaces that came up to Leif’s shoulder. Impossibly large glass windows covered the northern wall, overlooking a sprawling garden that was a masterpiece all itself.

  Despite Leif’s reservations about the moment, their entry went unremarked.

  “…unbecoming of a member of the aristocracy. It was unnecessary, impulsive and base.” The powerful voice boomed across the hall.

  “But my king, he insulted me. He insulted my family. The Rules are clear on dueling. Surely this public shaming is unnecessary.” It was a second voice, younger, but formal and confident.

  “You are held to a higher standard which you well know, Karsten. Succumbing to your petty temper at the slightest verbal provocation is pathetic. Does the boot care for the insults of the ant? You are weak.”

  “Your majesty! Surely-“

  “The purpose of the Rules of Decorum is to place expectations on the aristocracy, on you. Everyone else is held to lower standards, is that what you want?”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Karsten hung his head, “No, your majesty.”

  The man, Karsten, stood alone just before the king’s dais. His boots were planted into a thick red rug that extended across the hall. His posture was proud but deferential. Two steps above him on the dais stood the king. To say he was imposing would have been an understatement. His presence dominated the room. The dozens of members of the court were transfixed by his words.

  Leif took the moment to peer out into the gardens. Water cascaded through pools and fountains then wove its way through open swaths of lawn and beneath small bridges of stone or wood. Trees dotted the scene and between them stood tall statues, of graceful women or powerful men, which were adorned or lined with flowers or hedges.

  Through the windows, Leif could see a young woman in a soft pink dress riding a…unicorn? He blinked in confusion and tried to clear his vision. Surely his eyes deceived him. People don’t ride unicorns. Most would never see one in their lifetime. Sure enough, the long yellow horn stood prominently on the creature’s forehead, shining in the sunlight.

  “You are to patron his wife and children until your death. You will not make this mistake again, Karsten, or you’ll suffer the same sentence they do. You’ll be shipped out with the rest of them. Be worthy of your house and your blood. Be better.”

  Karsten’s head was bowed deferentially. “Of course. Thank you, your majesty.”

  As Karsten stepped away from where he’d taken the verbal lashing, the king added, “You are held in high esteem by this court, Karsten. I’ll see you on the field.”

  Karsten nodded and stepped back until he melted back in with the other members of the Danarian court.

  “Vigo!” All eyes turned to Vigo as a young woman raced towards them from where she’d stood just off the king’s dias. She held the front of her dress and ran, flowing ribbons of blonde hair trailing behind her, until she crashed into Vigo’s open arms.

  The smirk on his face was larger than usual. His arms wrapped around this woman, his left arm glued itself tightly around her slender waist and his right wrapped around her shoulder and curved up until his hand cupped the top of her head. She burrowed her head into his chest, tucking it just beneath his chin and squeezed him.

  Leif stood there feeling everyone’s eyes, wishing he could sneak away from the scene unnoticed. He avoided making eye contact with the strangers and instead focused on Vigo and this woman attached to him, hoping he was invisible next to their display of affection.

  They peeled themselves apart and the young woman looked up into Vigo’s eyes, “How was your journey, Vigo? Oh, I’m so glad you’re home!” Vigo stepped back and motioned to Leif. “Estrid, meet Leif.”

  The woman attached to Vigo was like no woman Leif had ever seen. She did not seem real. She was how he imagined a goddess would look if she were to descend from the heavens and deign to let him gaze upon her. Her features bore nothing that could have been considered a flaw. Her perfection was intimidating. The hair that tumbled over her shoulders and down her back was of such a light blonde that it seemed to give off light of its own. Her eyes were the deep blue of the sea, with faint flecks of green in the sunlight. Around her neck she wore a gold chain that held the largest red ruby Leif had ever seen. There was a boldness to her, in the intensity of her eyes, in the pitch of her voice, in the integrity of her posture, and the certainty of her manner.

  Leif was uncomfortable under the eyes of the court, but he took her hand and gave her a slight bow, “My pleasure to meet you, Estrid. Vigo has been eager to return to you.” Vigo squinted at him, then rolled his eyes. Estrid gave him a warm smile in return.

  “We’re so happy to have you here, Leif. Vigo was so excited when he first learned of you. I’m so glad he was able to find you and bring you to our home. Come, you must meet my parents.”

  Leif abruptly realized that this woman could only be a diamond of Erling. Vigo was engaged to one of the daughters of King Harald of Danaria. Hestan was to be Vigo’s brother-in-law. Vigo was to be the son-in-law of the most powerful ruler on the continent.

  Estrid wrapped herself around Vigo’s arm as Vigo led the three of them towards the dias. Most of the two dozen members of the court, including the king and queen, were conversing softly together while watching their approach. Three young children, perhaps between five and ten years old, chased each other through the hall. At a sharp motion from the queen, the three slowed and came to a stop at her side. The elder boy poked his younger brother and sister then darted out of the hall, the others racing after him.

  Leif took the moment to glance again at the unicorn. The rider in pink had dismounted. She had left the creature to graze and was heading towards the hall.

  “Welcome Vigo, it is good to have you back.” The severity from King Harald’s countenance was gone, replaced by a happy smile. He looked to Leif to be an older version of Hestan. His face was more weathered and rough, and his hair was several shades darker than his son's, but his appearance and posture still had the vitality of youth. His eyes were piercing and direct. There was a darkness in them that contrasted starkly with his pale complexion. His appearance combined with his perfectly tailored, high-collared coat cast an impressive and intimidating aura. Confidence dripped off the man. He was utterly at ease and the master of the world around him.

  He looked directly at Estrid and cleared his throat. Estrid sighed and separated herself from Vigo, although she twined her fingers between his and grasped tightly. Queen Arja, with a male toddler in her arms pressed against a pregnant belly, added, “Oh we hoped you’d return soon, Vigo. Welcome home. Estrid has been beside herself.” Estrid beamed up to Vigo, with no regard for concealing her affection.

  “It seems your trip was a success then?” King Harald said to Vigo, looking at Leif.

  “It was a productive journey, your majesty. I look forward to sharing the details with you.” Vigo bowed slightly towards the king.

  “Greetings, dear cousin!” The voice was like ice in Leif’s ears. Magnus and Isabella stepped away from the other court members to join their circle. “What a wonderful surprise to see you here, Leif,” added Isabella. “We had heard you left home and we were so concerned, as you can imagine. You must come to our villa immediately. We have much to discuss.”

  Leif saw Vigo watching them. The wizard did not hide the glare written on his features. He seemed ready to strike them down in front of the entire court. Leif’s own anger bubbled just beneath the surface. He looked at his aunt and cousin blankly, wishing they were anywhere else in the world. “I have committed to accompanying Vigo Salverson.” As soon as he finished speaking, Vigo cut in, an edge on his deep voice, “He is my guest and he will be staying at the palace for now.”

  Through a stern set frown, Isabella began, “But surely-.”

  “Quiet,” the king interjected. He appeared perturbed by the Bakkens’ interruption and he looked directly to Leif, waiting for an explanation.

  Leif took a half step forward and bowed. “Your majesty, I am Leif Olander, son of Erik of the House of Olander. I come from Maedelund. Vigo has been kind enough to bring me here to his home to teach me.”

  “You are being too modest, nephew, you left out the best part.” Queen Isabella quipped, “Harald, Arja, you are looking at the next in line to the throne of Maedelund, after my son Magnus, of course. But surely, Harald, with your resources, you already knew this.”

  Leif felt the eyes of the royal court shift to him. He kept his own on the king and queen but he could see Isabella’s substantial girth in his right periphery. He kept his silence.

  King Harald responded, “Strange it seems, Isabella, that this young man is next in line when several other members of your family would traditionally have occupied that position?”

  “Oh, unfortunate tragedies, it pains me to say. We live in a time of great turbulence as you know. One never knows what could happen, from accidents to treason. We had some…ambitious members of our House overstep their stations and they had to be dealt with. Not unexpected after the death of my husband of course. We are grateful that my son is strong and capable, as a man, and as a wizard,” she said as she patted Magnus’s arm. “Much like your Vigo here. Once Magnus finds a suitable bride, as Vigo has, the House of Bakken may come to rival even your own I think” Isabella winked at the king and queen.

  When she spoke, the king’s eyes never looked at her. He watched Leif.

  “We wish you the best of luck in finding a suitable bride, Magnus. Leif, as a friend of Vigo, welcome to our home. Is this your first time in Danaria?” asked Arja.

  “It is your majesty, and I thank you for your hospitality. Your majesty is very generous.” Leif added another bow, this time to Arja directly.

  The king added, “House of… Olander was it?”

  “Yes, your majesty.” Leif straightened and waited for the follow-up question that seemed to be simmering in Harald’s mind.

  “I look forward to learning your story.” The King looked around at the party once more. Isabella’s mouth opened as if she was about to speak again. “No more interruptions, Isabella,” Harald said it without looking at her. Isabella clopped her mouth closed in shock and anger. Harald ignored her.

  Queen Arja continued, “Karalee, would you be so kind as to show Leif to his room? I’m sure Estrid and Vigo would appreciate a moment to catch up.”

  Leif looked around Vigo and Estrid to see the young woman from the garden in the pale pink dress. Up close he could see the details of her face and figure that had been too far for him to perceive before. Her hair was a light brown, with faint veins of gold in the sunlight, that tumbled down her back into curving ringlets. Her eyes were her father’s but they bore mirthfulness rather than severity. She was delicate and slender. Her face and her laugh were blissfully pure. Where Estrid was a golden perfection, Karalee was a bright and gentle morning light. She was the dawn that sparkled over the sea on a cloudless day. She was the second diamond of Erling.

  He didn’t know how long she had been standing next to Magnus. She appeared taken aback at the request from her mother. She looked up at Magnus for a brief moment. He gave her a small smile and a wink. She giggled into her hand before regaining her composure, “Of course, mother.” She stepped towards them and scooped her arms around Vigo. “Welcome home, Vigo!” Vigo chuckled and gave Karalee a fond squeeze in return. “Karalee, I hope you’ve been keeping out of trouble.”

  Karalee laughed, the sound warmed Leif to his soul. “Good Prince Magnus has been keeping me out of trouble. I’ve been acting the proper daughter of the House of Erling.” Vigo’s face darkened but she didn’t notice. She broke away from him and reached her hand towards Leif. “Welcome to Danaria, Leif, and a pleasure to meet you. Come with me.”

  Leif looked at her hand outstretched before him. It was delicate and pure. He couldn’t imagine his own hands, dirty from weeks of travel, touching hers. The thought was hideous to him. He didn’t know how long he looked at her hand but he realized he was swiftly going to make a fool of himself. He bowed, reached out, and took her hand. “Thank you, my lady.”

  Karalee began to lead him out when Leif heard Hestan’s voice carry across the hall, “What did I miss? Is my good friend Karsten going to the ships?” He slapped Karsten’s back.

  As they departed, Leif heard Isabella, “Harald, Arja, surely you’re not leaving so soon, I have a few matters I wish to discuss.”

  Arja looked up to Harald who responded, “No. We have preparations to finish. There will be time for your matters later.”

  Karalee pulled him from the hall. In his mind, her footsteps left pools of sunlight on the stone floor. She seemed more suited to skipping, or dancing, than simply walking. Walking seemed beneath her, and yet he’d never seen a woman walk with more elegance.

  His hand buzzed at her touch. He wanted to speak but forming words escaped him in her presence. Finally words came but they weren’t the ones he wanted, “how long have you known Magnus?”

  They passed through a hallway with windows and tapestries. She still held his hand. Leif didn’t want her to let go but he was worried his hand was becoming sweaty.

  “Not long. I supposed you could say he’s courting me?” She blushed. Leif felt physically ill. He nodded and smiled politely and she continued. “I don’t really know but it seems that way? He sends me flowers and we walk together. It’s fun. New for me, most men are intimidated by my father so I don’t get to have much interaction.”

  “Of course, you can’t really blame them though, can you? Considering your position.” Leif hoped his words and their footsteps concealed the thundering of his heart beat. He hoped his voice didn’t betray his nerves.

  “Ugh, I know but sometimes I just want to talk and laugh with a man! That shouldn’t be so difficult.”

  “Well, you see, there’s your problem right there. Your expectations are far too high. Most men are simply not that funny.”

  She laughed. Her laugh was so mirthful, so full of unrestrained joy and beautiful naivety. The sound of her laugh, her uninhibited innocence, made him want to become more than he was. To become strong, to be her protector, to be a great warrior. He’d become a warrior and a king so he could hunt down and stamp out every evil or danger or pain that could possibly spoil the joy in her laugh.

  “And so what would Leif Olander have me do? To save me from the terrible predicament of my station?” She threw her head back and cast her hand to her forehead.

  “It’s hopeless my lady. Your only chance is to stay close to me. For I am not most men,” he found himself feeling extraordinarily lucky that he hadn’t sputtered out something foolish or unintelligible so far in the conversation.

  She looked at him and smiled her happy smile. His heart still raced, his hand still sweat, but her gentle confidence and jovial manner was beginning to calm him.

  They met up with Sisil and Karalee conferred with her as to his room. She then led him into an intricately carved wooden box just off the hallway that stuck out from the walls. She rapped on a wooden panel. A moment later, the box shifted and began to rise, carrying them upwards.

  “Father insisted they have the master bedroom chambers overlooking the garden and the city and the port beyond. Mother insisted that she wasn’t going to climb those stairs every time she wished to visit her quarters. So as he does, he fixed it. He came up with these ox-drawn lifts and mother couldn’t be happier. Father at first told us we couldn’t use them, now he just calls us spoiled.” She smiled.

  Leif was amazed. He intended to learn how it worked. They stepped off the lift into another hallway three floors from the ground and she led him to his room. “Vigo’s is just the next door over. I’ll tell Sisil or Bolson to send up a meal. You can ask them to show you how to fill the bath or you can use the stream bath but either way,” she scrunched up her face, “I’d recommend you bathe.”

  Embarrassment flooded through him and he pressed his arms against his ribs, “my lady, please accept my apologies, it has been a long journey and-”

  “Oh stop it! I’m kidding, sort of…ah well, have a good evening, Leif, and welcome to Danaria!”

  He watched her walk back to the lift, humming a song he wished he knew. It wasn’t until she was gone from view and he could hear the lift taking her away, that he turned into his room, to his new home.