It was an hour after dawn when Rose found herself seated in an opulent living room, in the quarters of the palace that had been reserved for Elliott and those with him. Ornate heavy drapes had been drawn to the sides of the towering windows – each almost stretching from floor to ceiling – the morning sunlight scattering through the crystal chandelier hanging from the soaring ceiling above.

  She yawned into her hand, the silver embroidered sleeve of her red silk dress rolling down her arm. It had been gifted to her, taken from the wardrobe of one of the young ladies of the court. There were several other such dresses, as well as the fine linen chemise that she had slept in. Not that she’d slept much at all before a servant had woken her, with Elliott requesting her presence here.

  The five of them sat in a corner of the room, in carved wooden chairs by a marble fireplace, a circular oak table between them and a luxurious soft rug beneath their feet. The chairs were upholstered in fine burgundy-coloured cotton. She ran her hand along the smooth armrest. She wasn’t unused to affluence, but even back home, she didn’t have a room in her mansion as large as this one, or so lavishly furnished with what would be considered antiques.

  Although she did feel at home. The first time she’d felt like that since they’d arrived.

  “Any questions?” Elliott asked, sat opposite her with Elsie sat on the table in front of him, colourful pink and blue stitched legs spread out, leaning against Elliott’s arm. His trench coat, his weapons, his combat boots were nowhere to be seen. Instead, he wore a shirt and doublet with puffed-up shoulders and buttoned cuffs, with skin-tight black hose ending in leather soles. The leggings wouldn’t have been out of place at a yoga session!

  She put her hand up and Elliott nodded. “You haven’t said what I’m doing?”

  He smiled. “You’re being enrolled in an academy. I’ve spoken to King Cedric. He’ll make arrangements for your travel as soon as you’re ready to leave.”

  “Academy?” she asked. “I’m not staying with you?”

  “You’re a liability to me right now. You’re not strong enough. Not smart enough. Not skilled enough. The academy will allow you to get to a higher level, then we can see how you will be able to help us.”

  She sunk back into her chair. There was no need to be so harsh. Her eyes fell on Elsie, who had a cheeky smile on her face, but raised both hands with encouraging thumbs up at her. Then she clasped her hands together and bowed her head as if she were praying for Rose.

  “For your base, Elliott,” Korin said. Her eyes flickered to him, sat to her left. He still wore the overalls he had on yesterday, though he’d left his heavy coat in his bedroom. “You’ll need builders. We can ask the dwarves. They left Rhian when the invasion began, but you won’t find finer builders in the land. And with the forest and the mountains, there are many items in there that we could set up for trade with the dwarves and beastkin to the east and southeast.

  “You could set up a permanent portal, perhaps? For trade?”

  “Let’s talk about it after we get back from the dungeon. There’ll be a lot to do, and I’m going to put you in charge.”

  Korin nodded and Rose could see a smile beneath his bushy beard.

  “Elliott,” Lyla said, sat to the right of Rose, Isabel beside her. Both of them looked entirely different to last night, wearing similar silk dresses to the one Rose wore, though Isabel’s was an inch or two short. There were no ladies in the court of a similar height. “I can help you with the Blackguards, maybe. I have a couple of friends among them. I told Isabel about them – two friends I grew up with. I haven’t seen them in almost a decade but if they haven’t changed too much, they might be willing to help.”

  Elliott narrowed his eyes at her. She seemed to notice, because she hurriedly added, “I won’t mention you or Isabel or anything here. If I’ve miscalculated, the error will be mine alone.”

  Elliott glanced at Isabel, who nodded at him. He’d taken them through his plans to place Taalan – no, not Taalan; Aldric – on the Bizaynian throne. Rose looked at Lyla. She was a little nervous, hands fidgeting in her lap, but there was a quiet determination in her. Rose recognised it in herself too. Her eyes flickered to Elliott. Somewhere, deep down, she had a need to prove herself to him.

  “You’ll come to the dungeon with us,” Elliott said. “Then once we’ve cleared it, you can begin your mission. I have something else I want you to look into as well, but we’ll talk about that later.” He turned back to Korin.

  “Now, do you have my ore?”

  “Of course,” Korin replied. “It’s in my room.”

  “I had an interesting conversation with King Cedric about starmetal ore. He told me the minimum for one Elemental Lord ore would be around one thousand gold, but you told me it was only several hundred.” Elliott raised an eyebrow and pressed his lips together. Korin wiped his brows.

  “Uh…er…at the time, I didn’t know what you could do. I didn’t think you would even get one ore.”

  “And you thought you’d cheat me if I did?”

  “Not cheat you, but…it would have helped the refugees.”

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Don’t use the refugees,” Elliott remarked. “You were trying to skim some from the top.”

  “I promise you I wouldn’t do that. I was going to use it to help the Rhianians. I’m a dwarf – we don’t cheat.”

  “There’s a first time for everything,” Elliott smiled with a wink. “I need you to go get the ore. We’re going to sell it to the King’s blacksmith and then we’re going shopping.”

  Rose’s ears perked up. “Shopping?”

  Elliott turned to her. “Shopping. You can join us, if you’d like.”

  “What are we shopping for?”

  “Inventory.” He looked down at his leggings in disgust. “And clothes.”

  “Can you trust him?” his aunt Thessa asked, sitting on the comfortable three-seater chaise opposite him. They were in a living room in his quarters of the palace, seated at a low table, where breakfast had been prepared for them. Cedric had been very welcoming, offering him the very best quarters he could. Aldric smiled. No doubt Cedric did not want to disappoint his aunt Clarissa, who sat by Thessa’s side.

  The reunion with her had been tearful, just after dawn. He’d been sound asleep, but that hadn’t stopped Clarissa from barging into the room, and hugging him to her as he was still trying to gather his bearings. She’d muttered something about that silly husband of hers who should’ve woken her up last night and Aldric found himself gently laughing into her shoulder. They stayed there like that for a few minutes, while she tried to understand how he was alive.

  He thought it better to just have both his aunts sit together as he took them through the last three years of his life. It hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary, really. He lived among the temple inhabitants, followed the guidance of the Twins as he kept a low profile, making sure no one knew who he really was. Just another follower of the Twins, dedicating his life to them. Everything he had needed to survive had been within the temple grounds.

  But now he was done surviving.

  “From what I’ve seen of him, he’s a man of his word,” Aldric responded. He took his cup of tea from the table, raised it to his lips and took a sip. The last six months in the dungeon had been tough. The Twins had done their best to make them comfortable, but being confined to a single floor, trapped from the outside world and its small comforts had been trying. He pressed his lips together. He hoped the clerics and the others that remained would be okay. There were few left.

  “He’s a dangerous man,” Thessa continued, raising her own cup to her lips, using the other hand to tip the bottom, before placing it delicately upon its saucer. She grabbed the teapot and poured herself another.

  “But in a way,” Aldric sipped his tea, “he’s our dangerous man. And he’s the man I need to have my vengeance. I believe he’ll deliver what he’s promised. But we have work to do. How many of the Houses do you think would support our claim if we put out whispers that I’m alive?”

  “To announce you’re alive would put you at immediate risk,” Clarissa said, hands neatly folded in her lap.

  “I’m sure the Emperor will know soon, if he doesn’t already and I’m sure he will seek to have me assassinated as soon as it comes to his attention. I have to do what I can to get ahead of it.”

  “Some of them will likely side with you,” Thessa said. “Your father was a good man. A good ruler. Fair with the high nobles. I think there’d be support, but one or two might see an opportunity for themselves if there’s a power vacuum.”

  “Can we get some rumours out there in the Bizayn cities, and word to the nobles discreetly?”

  “I’ll need to find some trustworthy men,” Thessa said. “Leave it with me.”

  Aldric nodded, as he put his cup down and rose. “I’m going to join Elliott to rescue the Twins now. Make the preparations we need for when I get back. Nothing we’ve discussed here should leave this room.”

  Both Thessa and Clarissa looked at each other with small smiles on their lips before turning back to Aldric.

  “What?”

  “You’re acting like a King,” Clarissa said.

  “You’ll make a fine ruler,” Thessa added.

  Blood rose to his face. These were his aunts. His father’s cousin. His mother’s sister.

  “Don’t worry,” Thessa laughed, seeing the look on his face. “You’re a King first, a nephew second. Now, do you want me to tell Ibonek about this or you don’t want him to know either?”

  “I’m going to see him now. I’ll let him know myself.” He walked around the table to give his aunts a hug. “Let’s have dinner when I’m back. You can tell me what I’ve missed since I’ve been away.”

  Aldric left his aunts, making his way out of the living room and through the palace corridors. Morning light shone through the tall arched windows, gleaming across the carpeted stone floor beneath his feet. Tapestries lined the walls opposite the windows, large canvasses depicting scenes of battles throughout the history of Aldren, interrupted with portraits in gilded frames of the kings that fought those battles. His eye caught one particular painting of a group of cavalry facing another. Bannermen on either side held the flags of Rhian and Aldren respectively, as their kings strode to meet each other on their horses. The Battle of the Border. The last time Rhian had faced Aldren as an enemy and agreed the current border that separated their countries. They had been allies since.

  Servants walked the corridors in white livery, their clothes overlaid with the silver rearing horse on a blue background – the colours of King Cedric. They stopped to bow to him as he walked past them and by habit, he tilted his head to them respectfully, which made one or two’s eyes widen. They knew he was a guest of the king, and they would be used to the nobility. The nobility weren’t supposed to acknowledge their presence. Aldric would need to remember that. Servants didn’t want to be noticed.

  It wasn’t long before he approached the heavy wooden door leading to Ibonek’s chambers. As he raised his hand to knock, he heard muffled words on the other side. He cocked his head, but couldn’t make out what was being said. He almost turned around, but he needed to talk to Ibonek before preparing for the dungeon.

  And he was the King.

  He knocked on the door. The voice inside paused. The silence lingered for a moment, before he heard the muffled voice again, this time with an urgency as if they needed the conversation to end quickly. Then he wondered if Ibonek was in trouble of any sort. It was a stupid thought. They were in the palace of a friend, surrounded by allies. But a small part of him knew it wouldn’t be so easy. His enemies were everywhere. The Twins enemies too.

  He knocked again, harder this time, then turned the handle and pushed the door open.

  Ibonek stood ahead of him on a woven blue rug, still wearing the long silk gown he would have slept in, hastily closing the drawer beneath the writing desk that hugged the wall to the right. The drawer clicked shut, echoing in the silence. Aldric glanced around the rest of the room – a four poster bed to the left, its post carved with intertwining vines. Beyond the bed, the curtains had been drawn back from the windows, letting sunlight stream across the emerald bed cover.

  “Who were you talking to?” Aldric asked as he stepped inside.

  “Talking?” Ibonek asked, hands still pressed on the wooden drawer. Upon noticing where Aldric was looking, he snapped his hand to his side.

  Aldric looked at the drawer, then into Ibonek’s eyes.

  “What’s in the drawer?”