Page 115 of Keeper of the Word

“Ferika.”

“I will hear none of your patronizing, Rian.” The queen clasped her hands in front of her and straightened herself anew. “Now, what say you?”

“Your Majesty, you and King Rian read the note left from your son. Trust him,” Tara said.

The note. Dashiell had left a short, scribbled message informing his parents he fled to bid farewell to his lady. The end had promised he would return to fulfill his marital obligations.

In the background, Griffith and a few council members snickered.

“Call off your search, Your Majesty.” Elanna faced the sovereign. “You must. Dashiellwillreturn. Your son is honorable.”

What else could she and Tara say?

King Rian steadied his grim expression.

“He has insulted Your Majesty. He must be returned,” Griffith repeated. “You cannot allow for this.”

“And what will Dashiell be returning to, Your Grace?” Elanna asked. “How will that strengthen the bond between sovereign and heir to the crown?”

Griffith’s face twitched into one of contempt before relaxing into of complacency.

“’Tis done, anyway,” King Rian finally spoke. “Dashiell will be returned.”

“Call off your soldiers,” Elanna again pleaded, doing her best to keep her emotion out of her voice. “Send ravens and call it off!”

“Your Majesty,” Tara’s voice was solemn. “Dashiellwillreturn. But we have Seen him return two ways. Do not choose the path that will bring forth his return the second way. ’Twill be doom.”

“The realm’s doom,”Elanna emphasized.

“Stars,” the queen whispered. “Rian, what more do you need? Call off the hunt. Let Dashiell return by his own means.”

There was a knock at the door, and the steward entered, followed by Ulara, Wenonah’s father, and a group of other Grendenian nobles. “Your Majesty! I told them you were in conference. I told them?—”

“Your Majesty, we have waited long enough. We’ve a right to know! Where is the prince? Why are we not sealing the betrothal at this very moment?”

“Lord Ulara, you have either much courage or much stupidity barging in here,” Queen Ferika said.

Ulara ignored her. “Your Majesty, verbal promises have been made. We traveled all this way to Asalle. My daughter’s honor rides on this day. And now I hear rumors that the prince is in love with some Lenforese peasant, and he’s fled the castle. This is an insult!”

Elanna held her breath.

Do not let pride sway you.

Council members, Griffith, and the queen began to argue. Tara was pulled into the argument. Elanna could scarcely believe what she was witnessing. A StarSeer in the middle of a political squabble?

“Your Majesty,” Elanna broached, as she climbed the stairs of the dais to King Rian. He would not meet her eyes. “’Tis not too late to correct this path. Please, listen.”

“I am finished listening, StarSeer,” King Rian said. “E’er since you came here, my path has been riddled with ruin.”

“Your Majesty, Prince Dashiell had already?—”

“Nay. Enough. No more.” The sovereign stood and shouted, “Enough!” The room stilled. “The prince will return. And the day after he returns, they shall wed.”

“Wed? Rian!” the queen said.

“You’ve heard me. Griffith, declare it so. As far as the Capella Realm need know, Dashiell has taken a last hunting trip in preparation for matrimony. Ulara, your daughter’s honor is intact, and if you wish for no more rumors, then spread none save for what you have heard in this room. Sir Dirk,” He nodded to the Warin commander, “speak to your captains and send eight more scores of soldiers out to Firthdale and Preyton where the height of these skirmishes have occurred. Quell this unrest immediately. The Capella Realm will not fall upon the shoulders of a wayward heir.”

“So, these rumors are true? About the prince and some Lenforese peasant?” Ulara asked.