Page 85 of Reign of Light
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Asinking pit deepens in my stomach as I stare at the gate, trying to make sense of one particular detail. The moment I noticed it, I knew something was not right.
Or more specifically, noticedhim.
One guard stands behind the rest, his shoulders pulled back, his chin jutted high with a sneer across his face. I’d recognize him anywhere, because the last time I saw him, he was on his knees before me, reciting his oath to the kingdom, after calling me a piss-poor excuse of a princess.
Brynne sent him away, so what is he doing back at the castle?
It’s clear from the way he holds himself that he is the highest-ranking guard at the gate, or at least he assumes he is in charge. He’s not. Brynne is. I watch as he saunters back and forth, his scowl and shrewd glare at anyone passing too closely making me uneasy about how this encounter will be.
“Do you see that man, the guard in charge? He isn’t supposed to be here. At the castle.”
He glances over his shoulder, eyeing the group warily, and his eyes narrow the moment he zeroes in on him.
“Tell me why.” The concern is gone in an instant, the sweetness from moments ago replaced by a fierce calm as he analyzes a potential threat.
“Before Edmond told me about Dawnlin and I left, my guard and I were training. He was watching our spar and made some comments about me. My guard took them as borderline treasonous and forced him to kneel and re-swear his oath. Then she sent him away to the border. I don’t know why he’s back. He shouldn’t be back.”
“What did he say to you?” The growl in his voice would frighten anyone who didn’t know Weston the way I do. There’s no leniency in his demand as his eyes bore into me, but I still shake my head.
“What he said isn’t important. Whatisimportant is that his loyalty to the crown was in question. He should not be guarding the castle. Something isn’t right. We need to find Brynne.”
“Has he done anything else? Anything you can remember? Are there any other guards close to him?”
I shake my head again. “No, not that I remember, anyway. I never noticed anything else, and there were only a few snickers in the rest of the guards. They all stopped though the moment Brynne beat him.”
“Will he be a problem when you walk through that gate?” His expression is deadly and makes the back of my neck prickle with worry.
“He obviously knows who I am. I…I don’t know,” I stammer, and look past Weston, back at the group of guards still talking amongst themselves. “I don’t know the rest of them, but the last time I came in and out, they didn’t question me at all. Barely even gave me a second glance.”
He lets out a huff, and mumbles under his breath. He sneaks another glance back at them before reaching out and taking hold of both my wrists, his gaze intense.
“Stay behind me. Let me do the talking. If you need to, interject, but otherwise, stay with me and let me lead. If something happens, donot put yourself in harm’s way, do you hear me? We will sort it out once we’re inside.”
“Don’t do anything that will make me want to.” I raise my eyebrow and shoot him a look.
His eyes darken and his voice lowers. “You know I can’t promise that. Behind me.”
Turning on his heel, he stalks toward the gate, his shoulders pulled back and head held high in the commanding way he does. My heart pounds in my chest as I walk quickly to stay up with him, and even though his focus is on the threat before us, I can still feel the way he’s aware of me and stays shielding me with his body.
I shift enough so I can just see past him, and watch as we catch the closest guard’s eye. When we are within steps, he bumps another guard’s chest, then gestures in our direction, muttering something I can’t hear from this far away. The others turn, and the banished guard moves, standing behind the group, watching us approach. The lower-ranking guards move then, squaring their bodies to us and forming a barrier in front of the opening.
“Who are you?” the guard who noticed our approach calls out, glaring at us. He eyes Weston’s uniform, and his brows bunch in confusion.
“Weston Rowe, First Guard.” The chill in Weston’s voice makes it easy to imagine the look on his face. One guard shifts uneasily on his feet, while the others break out into a chorus of laughter.
“Did you hear that, Guthrie?” the man on the far left sneers.
“He can’t think we’re going to take him seriously,” another says with a disbelieving laugh.
The man Brynne banished, Guthrie, shoulders his way through the line.
“I’m not sure what you take us for, or if you’re just a fucking idiot,” he spits at Weston, “but if that uniform were truly yours, you would know what we all do. There is no First Guard.”
Weston doesn’t hesitate, taking the name-calling and accusations in stride. His voice stays even, but I can hear the force behind it. “It is mine, and I’m sorry to tell you men that you are mistaken. I know there is one, because I am he, and I am escorting the princess home.”
“Escorting the princess?” Guthrie bursts into coarse laughter. Spittle flies from his lips as he looks over his shoulders, seeing which of the guards are following along with his game. “Nice try, son, but just because you’re pretty and I’m sure can get along well convincing any whore of anything you say, doesn’t mean we’re going to bow down to it.”
