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Chapter19

Old Habits

Time slowed and surged in an uncanny dance. Mehl’s hold on Ria’s arm. Her startled, hurt expression. A scowling Toren muttering “What are you doing?” Every action compressed into a breath’s time, and yet Mehl could have described every nuance.

In truth, only a few heartbeats passed before Mehl released Ria and shoved away from the table, but it was long enough for the spy to reach the back entrance to the dining room. When the cook and another servant attempted to block the exit, the spy slipped between them before darting into the hallway beyond.

Without thought, Mehl leaped to his feet and ducked between the pair of stunned servants who’d just delivered his and Toren’s plates.

“Stay,” he barked over his shoulder. Then he connected to his husband telepathically.“It’s a Centoi spy.”

Before their mental connection was even closed, Toren’s voice rang out. “Stop him!”

The two nearest guards had already been moving, but at the High King’s command, they picked up their pace. Mehl reached the doors first. Whispers and cries of alarm followed him as he dashed through, but he blocked them out. His focus was on scanning the servants in the corridor that stretched the length of the dining hall. This area was a wretched mess at the best of times with dishes being carried back and forth for so many guests.

Cutting left would go toward the kitchens, while right would lead to the service corridor between the dining hall and throne room. He paused to consider the correct path. If the spy had been clever enough to blend in, there was no way to know which direction she would have taken.

Glass clattered and crashed to his left, and a man cursed. Mehl’s head whipped in that direction in time to spot the intruder darting away halfway down the corridor, a mess left in her wake. He rushed to follow, gaining his own share of attention. Between the crash and Mehl’s sudden presence, most of the servants froze, though a few attempted to waylay the spy.

Once again, time seemed to rush and suspend as Mehl wove his way through the chaos. But by the time he reached the trio cleaning up the broken, overturned plates and scattered food in the center of the hallway, the intruder was nearly to the end of the hallway. Mehl cursed. He needed to move quickly, and this wouldn’t help.

Fortunately, a couple of servants beside the wall slid out of the way so that he could skirt the mess. Alas, that was his only bit of fortune in the situation. Even that pause allowed the Centoi woman to slip into the small hallway leading to the kitchens and the scullery.

She would be out the back entrance well before he could catch up at this rate.

The soft clink of metal armor heralded the guards’ arrival behind him. “Your Majesty, please wait,” one of them called.

Mehl ignored the man and continued dodging his way through the servants, but as he reached the L-shaped corridor to the kitchens, the guard rushed ahead of him. When the man held up a hand, Mehl paused. Sir Macoe, one of Toren’s most trusted knights and the head of the palace guard.

“She’s escaping,” Mehl snapped. “Move.”

“I cannot let you proceed, Your Majesty,” Macoe said, his chin set with resolve. “By the High King’s command, I must protect you, and that includes preventing you from charging into danger.”

Helpless fury sent a flood of fire through Mehl’s blood. “The spy will be gone if we stop to argue this. Again, move. That ismycommand.”

Sir Macoe flushed, but he didn’t yield. “Which I would normally obey at once. However, we are all bound by the High King’s orders. Even you.” Macoe released a long sigh. “Let the guard handle this, King Mehl. I’ve ordered every exit blocked. Mages have been summoned to scan for spells, and the healers are checking the food. It is no longer your job to rush after danger.”

The guard’s words were logical and true, yet Mehl’s anger didn’t ease. He could have ended this if he’d managed to catch the spy, but instead, he was being forced to wait. Why? Toren knew Mehl would never give up on protecting him, even if tradition said he should. Why would his husband order this?

Mehl gritted his teeth and turned away. There was only one way to find out.

* * *

The dining hallwas a teeming mass of barely contained fear, and Toren had to remain calm to reinforce control. So as a handful of healers and mages streamed into the dining hall, he relaxed in his chair and pretended he couldn’t incinerate half the castle with his anger alone. This evening’s mistakes could cost them dearly. What had he been thinking?

He never should have made his announcement so close to the Centoi’s arrival.

“What’s going on?” Ria whispered, the fear in her voice heightening his fury.

Toren could barely look at her without his magic surging frightfully. “Mehl had concerns about the new servant,” he answered.

She snorted in disbelief, but the simple explanation would have to suffice. He was hardly going to announce that there was a spy on the loose, even if most of the nobles had surely guessed as much. Some rumors were best left unconfirmed, and this was one of them. He didn’t even dare tell Ria telepathically since he couldn’t be sure how she would react. The High Table didn’t have the luxury of showing open emotions.

Fortunately, Ria kept her expression neutral in spite of her doubt.

“Shall we resume the meal, then?” she asked. “While we wait for his return?”

Toren clenched the hand in his lap until his nails bit into his palms, but he was careful to keep the tension out of view. “Not as yet. I believe there is also concern about the quality of the food.”