Page 82 of Staff of Nightfall

“Who cares about technicalities,” Dresden muttered.

“It’s also not my choice.” Regulus turned and looked at Adelaide, a wretched sadness undercutting the rage in his eyes. “Can I even marry you now? Is that allowed?”

She couldn’t believe that hadn’t occurred to her. She had been too surprised by the king’s non-request, too frightened and confused by the sudden change in her life trajectory to think through all the consequences. Then getting through the questions about Nolan and Kirven had reopened her emotional scars, especially when she had to admit to Kirven torturing her. At least she hadn’t been forced to talk about Nolan’s intentions. Regulus and Father had avoided the issue, and she had been more than happy to do the same.

“Royal guards are permitted to marry, although they rarely do.” Father shook his head. “Marriage can present difficulties when you’re required to live in the palace with the other guards. But...surely the king doesn’t expect Adelaide to live in the barracks.” She didn’t like the uncertainty on his face.

“Out of the question,” Regulus said. “You seem to know a decent amount about this. The vows mentioned the king could release us. How often does that happen?”

The pained look Father gave her nearly made her sick. Adelaide leaned against the golden fireplace mantel, fighting a bout of dizziness. Regulus rushed to her side and slipped his arm around her waist.

“There are typically two reasons a royal guard is released from service.” Father spoke slowly. “Old age or injury that renders the guard unable to perform his duties.”

Dresden cursed, and Father cast him a disapproving scowl.

“This isn’t fair,” Regulus protested. She didn’t need to touch his skin to detect his fury. “He’s using us! Just like—”

“Enough,” Father interrupted with finality. “What’s done is done. Perhaps once Kirven is defeated, the king will release you. There have been instances of kings releasing guards from their service with a generous pension for service beyond the normal purview of the royal guard.”

A small spark of hope ignited in Adelaide’s soul. “Really? When? Recently?”

“King Gawain has never done so, but his father did, once.”

“Oh.” Regulus sounded like something had clicked in his mind. Like he finally understood something she still couldn’t even see.

“Oh, what?”

Father sighed. “Adelaide... You know I don’t like talking about the war.” She stared at him, uncomprehending. “I knew what the king wanted as soon as he asked you to kneel and drew that sword. Because King Olfan did the same thing to me.”

“You...were a royal guard?” He was a warrior, everyone said. A general.

“For a time, yes. I paid for my release with my blood.” His eyes filled with sorrow, pity, and pain. Her heart twisted. “It was only afterward that I led his armies.”

She leaned against Regulus. Why was Father being so vague? “I don’t—”

The door they had entered through opened. A young woman entered wearing a simple black dress, her hair drawn back in a bun, accompanied by a boy holding Regulus, Father’s, and Dresden’s swords.

A middle-aged man with red-blond hair and a powerful build followed just behind them. A red sash hung across his chest over a cobalt coat with brass buttons. The man turned toward her and Regulus.

“Lady Belanger and Lord Hargreaves of Arrano?”

They answered in the affirmative. Regulus removed his arm from her waist so he could bow, and she could curtsy.

“I am Captain Russell of His Excellency’s Royal Guard.” Captain Russell inclined his head toward them. “Welcome to the guard. Come with me.”

The woman curtsied toward Father and Dresden. “If you will please follow me, my lords, I will escort you out of the palace.”

Panic gripped Adelaide’s chest. Wait, this...was goodbye? Regulus took his sword from the page while Adelaide walked to Father.

“I...” The sudden fear she would never see him again cracked down her sternum. “I—”

“Disobedience and tardiness are not tolerated in the Royal Guard regardless of your gender, Belanger,” Russell barked.

She gulped back her fear. “I love you, Father.” She hugged him tightly. His returned embrace nearly squeezed the air out of her lungs. She held on longer than she should have, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go. Neither, apparently, could Father.

“I love you, too,” Father whispered. “My brave daughter, myshiraa.” He kissed the top of her head. “It’s going to be all right.” She clutched the back of his shirt.

Russell cleared his throat. “I’m not accustomed to being kept waiting, Belanger. This is your last warning.”

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