Page 81 of Staff of Nightfall

Reluctantly, he stepped forward and rolled up his sleeve. The king inspected the mark.

“Interesting. What is its purpose?”

“Protection and healing,” Adelaide said. “He was dying from a fatal stomach wound inflicted on him by Kirven’s lackey, Nolan Carrick. It was the only way to save him.”

“Carrick? The baron’s son?” The king frowned when Adelaide and Regulus nodded. “Troubling news indeed. Is the baron aware?”

“We do not believe so, Your Excellency,” Alfred said. “But I cannot say without a doubt.” The king stroked his beard.

The seconds dragged on while the king stared into the distance. Regulus rolled his sleeve down and stepped back, thinking about how underdressed and out of place he was amidst all the gold and splendor of the private audience chamber. It made him once again feel like a fake. A mercenary pretending to be a lord.

As if he suddenly remembered they were still in the room, the king looked back at Regulus. “Protection and healing? What does that mean?”

Regulus didn’t want to answer, but when the king asked a question, you answered, and you told the truth. “If I’m hurt, I heal. When I had the sor—Kirven’s mark, I couldn’t die. I don’t know if that’s the case with Adelaide’s, but it seems likely. I also have noted some increased strength.”

The king tilted his head. “Indeed. Lord Hargreaves.” By the glint in the king’s eye, Regulus knew what he would say before he said it. Resentment surged. “As your king, we request that you join our personal guard. We ask that you live and die to protect us. Do you agree?”

Regulus stiffened, his jaw clenching. So this would be his lot. He would exchange servitude from one brother to the other. One thing comforted him as he knelt before the king. At least he would be with Adelaide. He met the king’s eyes as he knelt, not caring if the king saw his fury. “I agree, Your Excellency.”

Chapter 31

They spent the nexthour and a half in the king’s audience room answering his questions and telling him everything they knew about Kirven, Nolan, and their plans. Which wasn’t much. Adelaide’s feet and lower back ached from standing. Regulus had looked even more unhappy about being drafted into the royal guard than she felt. At least the king hadn’t taken his title. King Gawain had explained Regulus would be Lord of Arrano in name, but so long as he was in the guard, his position as a guard trumped any other responsibility or title. But he had been demoted from the nobility in practice, if not on parchment. It was completely unfair.

The king had asked Dresden what his story was, and his curt response of, “I’m a mercenary. I’m just an armed escort, Your Majesty,” did not impress the king. Adelaide suspected that was purposeful. A way of avoiding the fate that had befallen her and Regulus.

When King Gawain was satisfied that they could give no further information, he left them with instructions to wait for a servant to escort them out.

Father’s perfect posture crumpled the moment the door closed. He rubbed his temples. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—you’re awoman. I thought he might ask for your help, or accept if you offered, but I never... I would have had you both wait in town if I had known. I’m sorry.” His brows pinched as his eyes filled with worry and sorrow.

“Self-righteous, egotistical, arrogant...” Regulus threw out a few less savory words.

“Someone could hear you,” Adelaide hissed.

“Let them.” Regulus crossed his arms. “I’ll do what I swore. But I never swore to be happy about it or act grateful to be made a slave all over again.”

“You’ll be paid,” Father said, his voice weary. “That’s technically not slavery.”

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