Page 52 of Shadows and Roses

"He wouldn't want to. I didn't go to… out of obligation."

Flinging him an exasperated glance, she said, "You were never a courtesan, expected to bed whoever asked."

His lips twitched in a slight smile. "I understand, Anais. I just don't want you to wait too long." To miss even a minute of joy.

Her eyes softened. "Nothing will happen to me. Jerome would never allow it." Her captain was watching over her even now, in the safety of the Queen's Wing. After Jana’s death, the overprotective knight had vowed his life forfeit if the new Queen should lose hers. Anais hadn't accepted his vow, but they suspected that mattered little to the honor-bound man.

Vern kissed her on the head then grimaced. "Go bathe, girl. You smell."

She threw him an exasperated look. "Ofroses. You smell of shit," she tossed into the air with a grin as she headed for her private bathing chambers. Jerome fell into step with her as naturally as a shadow.

Vern didn’t hide the fond smile spreading across his face. He checked his weapons' straps and walked toward the larger baths.

The old, familiar stones of the Queen's Wing held no surprises for him after these many years. Anais' mother hadn’t built the place, only commandeered it entirely for her own, as a Queen might do. He, in turn, had scoured every corner, finding every secret.

But halfway to the courtyard, a small, disheveled figure was walking in his direction. The boy hadn't noticed him, was too busy looking around.

One of the children might occasionally dash around the courtyard or through the halls at certain times of the day, and they weren’t unexpected or unwelcome. However, this ragged, dirt-smudged youth staring at everything with wide eyes was definitely not one of the palace children.

Vern drew his sword. "Who are you?"

The boy stopped and scratched his unkempt head. In an accented voice that would’ve declared him a street urchin no matter his appearance, he wavedand said, "'Allo."

Vern frowned.

"Is Je-rome ‘round?" The boy spoke Jerome’s name slowly, forming his tongue around the sounds with care. Then the boy’s eyes lit up. "Or Meriana?"

How did he know a servant girl… unless he was the same rebel messenger and thief who jumped over the courtyard wall. Vern sighed. The girl was probably nearby.

Gesturing with his sword, he said, "Wait in there. Guard!" The last word was a bark that startled the boy, who shrugged and casually strolled into the room.

A guard finally appeared, jogging around the corner. "Escort." Then he paused at Vern’s drawn blade. "Sir?"

Vern sheathed his weapon. "There is a boy in that room. Make sure he stays there. Don’t hurt him, if you can."

"Yes, sir."

The servant girl was tidying up the Escorts’ bedrooms. She laughed at Vern’s description of the boy and followed to confirm his identity. The boy, Harlen, grinned when he saw her and managed a bow that might make a four-year-old proud. She giggled, bowing much more gracefully before she left.

"Alright. Welcome back to the palace, Harlen," Vern said with a touch of sarcasm that the boy probably didn’t notice.

He peered around Vern to the hall. "Is tha Queen comin’?"

"Not this time. Do you have a message for us?"

He fidgeted. "Weeeelll, I’s s’posed ta tells ya tha theys wants ta talk ta Cas."

"Cas?" Vern asked slowly. "And who is Cas?"

The boy frowned. "Theys said yer s’posed ta know. Cas. A cor-" He pursed his lips. "A whor’. One of tha rich ones, I thinks."

Sounded like their Castien.

"And who isthey?"

The boy fidgeted. "I's na s'poseta say."

"I see. Do you have a message for… Cas?"

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