Page 54 of King's Warrior

“Don’t worry, Mother.” Niam helped himself to more bread. “You’ll not be asked to plan a speedy wedding. I’ve met the woman twice—which was two times too many. Whreyn has obviously trained her. No one so young could become so despicable otherwise. I’m surprised the servants haven’t murdered her in her sleep. She lacks your… grace.”

Nera snorted. “She lacks many things. I’m glad my son is among them.” She cast a sly glance at Rufe, giving a quick wink. What did she mean? Was she in favor of Niam and Rufe? “Your messenger sent word that the enemy captured in the pass yielded little information and died before they reached the capital.”

Rufe had to clear his throat before words emerged. “What are our next steps?”

“You, my dear, will be introduced as an emissary. I understand you’re here to represent the emperor, are you not?” Nera sipped from her delicate crystal goblet.

“I am.” Despite her current airs, Rufe could imagine the queen mother chugging ale in the local tavern as easily as sipping wine with the wealthy at court. She had a certain quality that allowed her to blend in, like those lizards in the Southern Islands capable of assuming the colors of their surroundings.

“We’ll make sure no one can refuse your proposals. In addition, your mission means many hours sequestered in my son’s office as you work on a treaty.” She lifted an eyebrow, a smirk on her lips. “Use your time… wisely.”

“Mother!” Niam nearly shrieked.

Vihaan and Casseign failed to hide their laughter.

“Life is too short to talk circles around the truth, Niam. Better to come out and say what’s on your mind.” Once more, Nera winked at Rufe.

While having Vihaan and Casseign on Rufe’s side offered reassurances, Nera might be the most formidable ally in all of Delletina.

“Your Majesty, if what you say is true, may I be so bold as to ask you a direct question?” Rufe might be taking his life into his own hands, yet she’d stated a preference for directness. And for all his concerns about his future and the state of politics, his burning curiosity sometimes got the better of him.

“I’d respect no other kind.” A certain wariness lurked in Nera’s eyes, gone in an instant.

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

Vihaan, Niam, and Casseign all spewed wine.

“Rufe! How could you even suggest such a thing?” Niam asked amid a coughing fit.

Nera smiled serenely and calmly lifted her goblet in a toast. “Not that anyone has ever lived to accuse me of.”

Oh, Goddess. Let Rufe stay on this woman’s good side.

“Mother, do you think I could see the boys? I’ve missed them terribly. Or do you think they’d give away my presence?”

Mother lifted her nose into the air. “My grandsons are discreet, and they’ve missed you too.” She rose and crossed the floor to the door. Rufe heard soft murmurs until Nera returned. “They’ll be here shortly.”

A few moments later, the door burst open, and in came two boys, the younger one with light brown hair and big brown eyes. The older boy, perhaps eight or nine summers, could have been the very image of a younger Niam, with copper hair, green eyes, and an impish smile.

“Papa!” they both exclaimed, running across the floor.

Niam went down on one knee, taking the boys into his arms. He kissed their cheeks, murmuring, “I missed you so much.” He pulled back to look into their faces. “Have you behaved for Grandmother and Master Wedgeworth?”

“Yes, Father,” they both said.

Niam stood, facing Rufe. “Boys, I’d like you to meet Commander Vihaan and Ambassador Rufe from the Cormiran Empire.” He nodded to Rufe and Vihaan. “Esteemed sirs, I’d like you to meet Prince Quillan,”—Niam placed his hand on the older boy’s head—“and Prince Uri, my sons.”

“Hello,” Quillan said. Uri partially hid behind his father.

For a moment, Rufe felt the pang of loss for the sons and daughters he’d never have. Perhaps keeping these two boys safe would be enough.

Chapter Twenty

Rufe settled into the enormous bed of his assigned quarters. After sleeping on the ground so much, the goose-down mattress was almost too soft. He enjoyed the warmth, sipping wine, and waiting. Would Niam come to him?

The fire burned down from blazing to embers. Rufe pulled the covers to his chin and rolled onto his side, watching the shadows on the walls. He settled a dagger under his pillow and fell asleep—alone.

Tittering maids woke Rufe, building up the fire and filling a tub near the hearth. They chattered away in Delletinian too quickly for Rufe to understand. Several blushed and turned away.

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