Page 26 of The King’s Bodyguard (Catkin Trilogy #1)

Corrin

C onsciousness came in fits and starts. I had memories of being lifted, the dim, vaulted ceiling of the stairs leading up out of the dungeons, and then a brief glimpse of a long hall. Then, nothing.

At some point, as though floating up through a sea of darkness, I heard faint voices talking. A wave of fire washed over me as though the surf in which I struggled was made of burning flames. I struggled and then sank back as cool ice spread through me. Ice tinged with mint.

When I next came to, I found myself feeling a bit more alive than I would have thought possible. I could not only move my arms and legs without spasming, but when I turned my head, the world remained, for the most part, still. It hung sideways, but still.

I blinked and focused my blurry vision. My bed was some kind of a low cot. I caught the edge of a wood box, the full length of a stone hearth, and a variety of pots and pans arrayed before it. Above, across the mantelpiece, various bottles and jars were ranked.

Slowly, I pried myself up. The first thing that struck me was that my back no longer felt strangely tight—or wet. I eased my neck in a slow circle. No pain. It was a miracle.

I instantly recognized my surroundings now that I was less unfocused and more upright, I had been brought to Aileen, the no-nonsense elderly Sunna medic who was gifted with some healing skills.

My gaze drifted over the racks and rickety shelves packed full of herbs and potions and arcane dust. The craft of a magical medic never ceased to amaze me.

However, it was not Aileen who strode in through the door first. Alan, looking rather exhausted but comically dressed up in a flouncy purple robe, strode in. At the sight of me sitting up, Alan raised an eyebrow.

“Already looking lively, eh?”

Lively was a bit of an overstatement, but I was definitely not feeling as though I were at death’s door. Gazing down at my arms, I realized that my bruising hadn’t quite faded, but the pain had definitely receded. I gingerly bent an arm backward in hopes of feeling my back.

Rushing forward and tutting, Alan gently pushed me down.

“I’ll take a look.” His hands gently unwrapped the bandages.

He smiled and nodded, clearly pleased at what he saw.

“It’s a divine miracle if I do say so myself.

Tala, God of the Herb, blessed my hand last night.

My Mystical Potion of Healing and Spirits has done the trick!

Another dose and you should feel ready to take on the entire castle guard! ”

“Feel is the keyword.” Aileen huffed behind him. “Not that you’d be able to lift a sword.”

She was carrying a tray with a bowl and a handful of crackers on the side.

My ears perked up at the sight, and my belly grumbled loudly.

The elderly molly grinned. Setting the tray down on a small table by the bed, she pushed my meal toward me.

Then, she sat down, took up a square of knitting, and began to work her needle.

Alan drew up a chair and sat. Was he waiting for something?

The white-haired young tom stared at me through his spectacles and smiled at me owlishly.

There was a certain deference about his posture.

I flashed him a reassuring smile, hoping that he wasn’t one of those idiots who believed that Munni transformed into beasts or whatnot.

“The healing work is yet to be completed,” agreed Alan. “However, the pain will not be felt for a good day.” He held up a bottle of clear liquid. “And there’s more where it came from.”

“Your elixir with the terrible name?” asked Aileen dryly. “Imagine a patient dying before you can get all the words out to your assistant.”

“I don’t work with assistants,” Alan said loftily. “I am a lone wolf. Much like Corrin here.”

“Corrin is far from a lone wolf.” Aileen pointed out. “In fact, there’s a fair few folk in the castle who wished he were a wee bit more lone. But that’s all nonsense, I say. Killjoys, what they are.”

“Ah.” Alan coughed and glanced at me. “Yes. There are those rumors.”

“The rumors?” I bit into a cracker and added after a swallow. “About L-the king and I?”

Alan’s eyes narrowed. “So they are true then.”

He hadn’t missed my slip-up. I mentally cursed. I really did not wish to alienate the two people responsible for healing me through whatever I had just endured.

“No wonder Hugh was gurgling like a young maiden at the Spring Fair. The tom practical thrives on romance. The more forbidden, the better.” Alan shook his head.

“But I will say this. When I came by to check on the king’s spirits this morning as he prepared for the ritual, he barely registered my presence, I warrant. Poor lad.”

“You aren’t much older than him, you know,” Aileen said severely.

“True.” Alan looked thoughtful. “Perhaps that is why I feel for him. I should be rather displeased to be married to another, especially one I did not love.”

“Does The White Tower allow you to love?”

“Well...” Alan blushed and shrugged. “I’m not at the Tower, am I?”

My eyes narrowed on Alan, noticing how he suddenly got stiff and shy at the same time.

Yes. Perhaps Alan’s heart is already spoken for.

He sympathizes with Landis. But still, he isn’t doing anything for him.

I frowned. It’s rather annoying. Enraging, in fact.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.

I sipped my soup instead and imagined what Landis was up to. The ceremony would be soon, wouldn’t it? I tried not to think about it. Within a few days, I would be force marched back to Velamere—or tied to a horse and taken back by force. I didn’t know what I could do to change anyone’s mind.

“I gave him the Elixir of Spirit and Cheer,” Alan said with a put-on sigh. “I might as well have poured it into the castle well. It is a shame that no one has the balls to go and stop the wedding.”

“Indeed.” Aileen shook her head theatrically, agreeing with gusto. “There’s no amount of herbs and spells that can mend a broken heart, dearie. Alas, I wish it were so.”

“Alright.” I threw my spoon down and glared at them. “Are you telling me to go over there and—and make a fool of myself?”

“Well, no, dearie. Of course not.” She winked at me.

Wait. Did she just wink at me? I turned to stare at Alan.

“I think showing up at this point would only make things worse.” I pointed out.

“Perhaps...” Alan mused sadly. “But the real question is whether you would regret not fighting to the last? I think I would give everything to save the one I loved.” He added hastily, “If I were in love that is. Which I am not.”

I thought about Landis. I imagined him huddled all alone in his bedroom. Rilla was a good molly, but she didn’t care for Landis like I did. He was a friend to her, and a new one at that, nothing more. But Landis meant more to me. He was my world. Life in Sumarene would not be the same without him.

Even if I could do nothing, I needed to be there. To say one last thing. To let him know... to let him know how I truly felt. And even if nothing happened, at least I would have given him and me a proper chance.

I pulled off my blanket and realized I was stark naked.

“I need to go, but, uh.”

“Oh yes.” Aileen creaked to her feet and pulled out a pile of clothes. “That nice Munni Alfie came by with some things for you. Your fellow guards were worried. I assured them that your fever had broke and Alan’s elixirs were working their magic on the infection.”

“Well, it’s time for the ceremony,” noted Alan. “Starting in a few by my reckoning, but given how the Seer loves to drone on, I imagine we can get there in time.”

“I’ll go be somewhere else.” Aileen declared, carrying her knitting with her. “For deniability. In case something goes wrong.”

With that, the elderly molly disappeared. I tried to rush, but I ended up feeling a bit more winded than I would like. After pulling on my clothes and pulling my hair back in a messy knot, I followed Alan out to the stables where two horses were being made up for us.

A few minutes later, we trotted past the castle gates, down the main street of Rimefrost, left at the largest intersection, and then onwards and out to the countryside beyond.

The road seemed to pass by at a snail’s pace, but thanks to the freshness of our mounts, we made good time.

Before we knew it, Alan and I could see the distant bump of green among the trees. The mound and the Ritual Stones.

On a last burst of energy, we galloping up to the entrance.

I had half expected to be stopped, but it seemed as though the place was in an uproar.

There was no sibilant speechifying or gentle music.

Instead, there were sounds of people talking, and guards milled about at the entrance.

Various horses were left standing by the entryway to the mound as though someone had arrived and swiftly disembarked.

Hopping off my own mount, I tossed the reins to a young stable lad, who realized who I was and instantly paled. Alan threw him his mount’s reins as well and sharply told the lad to tend to the horses. They had done their best for us today and would need a rest before returning to the castle.

Focused on finding Landis, I pushed my way through into the arena.

My sharp gaze darted about, landing on the shocked face of Lord Elthorne, the neutral expression on Gareth’s, and the amused look on Hugh.

Beside Gareth, looking smaller and more vulnerable than ever, stood Landis.

He was looking rather pale. Not as a happy groom would.

Everyone turned and stared at me. Landis’s blue eyes zeroed in on me instantly.

I looked around again as an odd realization hit me.

Where was the princess? Was she late? Had something happened?

Had she been kidnapped? Or was the wedding already done, and she’d returned to the castle another way?

Nobody was saying anything. It was like we were all trapped in some kind of tragic play.