Page 71 of Prince of Shadow and Ash

Regulus clenched his fist under the table. “I suppose that’s accurate.”

“Oh, brilliant.” Carrick’s voice behind Regulus was cold as ice. “Whose idea wasthisseating arrangement?”

“Mine.” Baron Carrick approached the table, his wife at his side. “I’m giving you a second chance to demonstrate honor in defeat. You have one victory and one loss today, but if you continue to act like a child, you will have lost your dignity.” His mouth turned down. “So far you’re not doing well.” Baron and Baroness Carrick took their seats, the Baron sitting beside Lord Ganlar.

Carrick hesitated for a moment, then took the seat between the baroness and Regulus. Regulus ignored him. He sensed Carrick’s animosity, and it sparked a reciprocal loathing.

The baron welcomed and thanked the attendees and praised the competitors. Carrick had won the polearm competition. Once the baron gave the word, servants began dispersing food and the cacophony of hundreds of voices in competing conversations filled the arena.

“My mistake,” Carrick said, his voice a low whisper, his head angled toward Regulus, “was doing polearm and sword. If I had skipped polearm, I would have had more energy. I would have beaten you.”

Regulus bit into a turkey leg. He wanted to ignore Carrick. Pretend he hadn’t heard. But what was the saying? Kindness burns like hot coals? Something like that. “You fought admirably, Sir Carrick. Particularly after winning in the polearm. Perhaps you are correct. But regardless, you should not be ashamed of how you fared.”

Carrick gripped his flagon so hard his knuckles turned white. “I’m the son of a baron. Shame isn’t an emotion I feel. But you will. I promise you.”

“Did you say something, Nolan?” The baroness looked at them with a smile, but her eyes were cold beneath her blue wimple. Such an old-fashioned woman.

“Just congratulating Lord Hargreaves on his win, Mother.” Carrick’s smile looked painfully forced. “And looking forward to tomorrow’s joust.”

Baroness Carrick sighed. “Perhaps if you had an ounce of humility and a touch more civility, you’d have a wife by now.” Her voice reminded Regulus of the time Caleb tightened the strings on his lute too far and one snapped.

Carrick aggressively bit into a piece of roast quail and didn’t respond.

Regulus looked over the crowd as he ate, seeking Adelaide. Wherever she was, he couldn’t find her among the crowded tables.

“Lord Hargreaves,” Baron Carrick’s voice cut through his thoughts.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, my lord?” Being so close to the baron felt odd. Regulus hadn’t spoken to him in the two years since he’d sworn his fealty and Baron Carrick had confirmed the transference of his title and land.

“I’m curious why I haven’t seen you compete before.”

The whole table looked at Regulus. The back of his neck itched. “I spent twenty-seven years of my life without a title, unable to compete in tournaments. Once titled, I hadn’t changed, only my legal status. I was in no rush to risk my neck seeking glory among those who hadn’t yet accepted me when I could finally rest and stop risking my neck for those too rich to risk their own.”

The row of faces stared at Regulus in mute shock.

He hadn’t intended to be so blunt or accusatory. The words just...spilled out. His mind seemed to relish the chance to lash out instead of suffering judgmental looks and whispered conversations in silence.Well done, Regulus.

“Then you’re not still a mercenary?” Carrick’s haughty tone made Regulus’ fingers ache to grip a sword.

“No.”

“And why would he be?” Baron Carrick pulled a grape off a bunch on the table in front of him. “Such pursuits are for men cut off, with no inheritance or title.”

Carrick shot his father a scalding glance before returning to eating and drinking.

“You think very little of the men who hired you as a mercenary?” Lord Ganlar asked, his expression solemn.

“By and large they seemed to think very little of me,” Regulus said, on edge. “When you fight another man’s battles and he treats you like a hunting hound, it’s difficult to maintain a high regard for that man.” He thought of the sorcerer with delusions of royalty. His fingers dug into his leg, and he willed himself to relax.

Ganlar looked thoughtful, if guarded. “I suppose that’s fair.”

“At least hounds are loyal to their lord. Mercenaries can’t even claim that dignity.” Carrick sipped from his tankard, the look in his eyes daring Regulus to retaliate.

Regulus kept his tone even. “I never took conflicting contracts, I chose my benefactors carefully, and I refused to work with unscrupulous mercenaries. I only helped innocents, never harmed them. So don’t think me without honor because I served no lord. I was loyal to my men, and my men to me.” He inclined his head, realizing he should cover his bases. “As Lord of Arrano, I am loyal to Baron Carrick and to the king.”Although I hope they never collect on my fealty.

“I am pleased to have men with skills such as yours I can count on.” Baron Carrick’s voice was steady and pleasant, but he didn’t look at Regulus. Eventually, the others fell to talking amongst themselves. Regulus ate in silence, and no one asked him any more questions.

After supper, Regulus wove between guests and dodged servants carrying tables and benches, seeking Adelaide. He found her as the musicians started playing. She grinned and his stress evaporated.Don’t get carried away,he reminded himself.

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