Page 29 of The King’s Bodyguard (Catkin Trilogy #1)
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Hugh
N ow is not the time to wallow in sadness, Hugh.
I battled back a sigh as I followed the thin thread of laughter that guided me down the dimly lit hall of the royal castle.
Wintermas holidays had arrived, and that meant parties and dances and drinking and all manner of frivolity.
A time of joy and festivities. Not the time for you to drag them all down with—
I stopped just in the doorway as I walked into the largest parlor of the royal castle.
Corrin’s face was buried in Landis’s ass.
That’s what I would have told Gareth if he were right behind me.
Just to see him roll his eyes. Of course, it wasn’t like that.
Corrin and Landis were in love, but they weren’t idiots.
Perhaps it was his youth or the kind of person that he was, but Landis kept a large portion of his relationship with Corrin behind locked doors.
A pity , I mused. They make such a lovely couple. The entire palace staff is in love. The court is slowly being won over. One day at a time the people of Sumarene will be won over by Corrin’s good cheer and Landis’s charm. Just seeing them hold hands…
I trailed off, suddenly assailed by another memory. A slender hand in my own. A garden filled with flowers. Ribbons lying on a table. Shoving down the sudden stab of pain in my chest, I focused on the hilarious scene before me.
Corrin had hefted Landis up in his arms. From behind.
Now Landis sat on Corrin’s face, for lack of a better word, as he teetered over the Wintermas tree that had been set up in the parlor.
The two were decorating. A table nearby was loaded down with half-opened boxes filled with a variety of handicrafts.
On another smaller table by the hearth, tea had been set out with cookies and other sweetmeats. Truly a cozy scene.
I planted a smile on my face and forced a laugh. Laughing always helped. Laughing and tumbling lovers and a spot of wine—or brandy, or whatever might be in the king’s cellars. Shoving my hands into my jacket pockets, I strolled casually forward.
“The star is supposed to go on last, Landis,” I said lightly, throwing myself down onto the only unoccupied armchair.
The other divans and lounge chairs were taken up with more boxes.
“Uh, huh…” Landis replied absently.
Corrin said something into Landis’s ass. I could barely make out the words. Something about telling Landis that already. Landis squirmed. His fingers gently brushed the tree’s top as he positioned the star just so.
“Alright, done.” Landis smiled and wriggled again. “Let me down, Corrin… Corrin!”
With a light shriek of laughter, Landis found himself expertly flipped around.
He slid down through Corrin’s light hold, but not all the way.
He hung there in Corrin’s muscled arms, noses brushing.
Landis leaned in and stole a quick kiss.
The enthusiastic way Corrin responded and the gentle way he placed Landis back on the ground made my heart pitter-patter a little.
A lot of people laughed at me for how often I talked about romance, especially Landis and Corrin’s relationship.
The truth is… I reached for a cup of tea and two sugar cookies. The truth is that it makes me glad to see two people I care about happy. They aren’t alone anymore. Landis isn’t alone anymore. And that’s all I ever wanted.
I still remember the first day I arrived at the royal palace.
It was before the death of King Lansson, before the war.
At the young age of eighteen winters, I was sent by my family, as was the tradition for Starrs, to serve as a guard for the young prince who was soon to come of age.
He was a meek and silent child then, seen and not heard.
Lonely and frightened, he spent many of his days cooped up with tutors who barely put in the work to train the youngest prince.
He was the forgotten one, the least important.
Other Starrs had been sent to the other royal siblings—my sister and brother and two of my cousins.
They had been sent to serve, to protect, and to support.
It was the way that we Starrs had served the crown since time immemorial.
A way for my father to hedge his bets. King Lansson was ailing, and the well-known ambitions of the siblings promised certain war.
In the end, Landis had won by default. On that bloody day, on the fields of Marrasol, we lost family. Many people did.
From that day on, the modest Starr estate lay empty and desolate. A few workers remained to oversee the fields and livestock. The rest moved on to serve more populous estates. Perhaps one day, the Starr manor would be aglow with warm lights and laughter. One day, but not this Wintermas night.
I used to love Wintermas, but now I struggled to find happiness. I buried my sorrows in a cup of ale or wine or whatever alcoholic beverage might be on hand. Tea was not going to cut it.
“Are you alright, Hugh?” asked Landis, noticing that I had become quiet.
Godsdammit.
“I am well, Landis,” I said. I held up a cookie. “Just enjoying the fire over here, some tea… and these wonderful cookies.”
“You look like you might want something stronger than tea,” Corrin noted.
He rooted around under one of the sideboards and pulled out a large snifter of brandy. Silently, he held it up in offering. I nodded with a grin.
“That’ll chase the winter gloom away."
“Wintermas should never be gloomy,” Landis agreed. “I suppose you will remain with us for the holidays? Say you will, Hugh!”
Corrin shot me a silent questioning look. I nodded.
“I am. Lord Elthorne and his family volunteered to represent Sumarene at Estellia’s court this season… and Gareth has family, so I shall step in for both of their duties while they are away.” I glanced back at Corrin and added matter of factly, “Most of my family passed away at Marrasol, Corrin.”
“Hugh and I are rather the same in that way,” Landis said sadly. He perked up. “But we have Corrin now, and one day Hugh will find someone just right, and we will have a family of our own!”
“And what about me?”
Gareth’s voice drew our attention to the doorway where he stood.
Judging by the red flush in his cheeks and the dampness of his hair, he’d just come from outside.
I cheered and raised a glass of brandy. The lord smirked, strolled in, bowed in Landis’s direction, removed a small box of glass globes, and sat in the chair opposite me with a luxurious sigh.
“Any more of that brandy?” He asked. “Or has Hugh drunk it all?”
“There’s more where it came from,” Corrin replied.
While Corrin poured another for Gareth, Landis held up a string of red ribbons and looked at them thoughtfully.
“These look rather nice.” He mused aloud.
“They’d look better on you,” Corrin whispered in his ear as he passed by.
Landis’s cheeks flushed. With a put-upon pout, he disappeared around the other side of the dark, plush fur tree and fake sulked in embarrassment for a minute or two. I chuckled and shot a smile at Gareth. Honestly, if I was ever sad, I knew I would find my spirits again at Landis’s side.
“Are you returning home?” I asked Gareth curiously.
“I must, alas. There are my siblings, not to mention a few cousins, aunts, and uncles left. And my grandmother,” Gareth added. “She will scold me if I do not spend enough time at Baywaters. But I wished to stop by and give everyone my best wishes before continuing.”
“Any news?”
Landis, who had been working with Corrin to twine the red ribbon around the branches of the tree, stopped to look at Gareth hopefully. Gareth shook his head.
“Nothing concrete, I’m afraid, Landis.” Gareth finished off his brandy and shifted forward, lowering his voice.
“Alan had found a mark on his shoulder. Hidden by a kind of glamor, but he was able to break it. It revealed the sigil of the Night Blade Guild. A well-known guild that offers various services—assassinations, thieving, and so on. Very specialized. Very expensive. And very dangerous.”
“Night Blade.” I frowned. “That’s… not good, Gareth.”
“No. It is not. They have been the direct opposition to the Sumarene throne for the past decade, and the King’s Blades have met their match against them on more than one occasion.
Worse, anyone in the business knows that the Blades consist of a massive group of decentralized kinfolk.
Across many countries… and with links to the black market. ”
“So, we cannot easily trace the blackguard to any particular person?” I mused aloud. “Godsdammit. A loss then.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. Alan was determined to give me something more. A cursory analysis of the blade revealed that a very specific kind of potion was used. The poison will need further identification. Which is why I am here.”
I stared at him, suspicion forming in my gut. Oh, gods, no. I mentally groaned. It’s not that I disliked Alan, but the white-haired, bespectacled mage was a bit of a wet blanket.
“I need you to accompany him as he makes inquiries, Hugh. I want Corrin to stick close by Landis throughout Wintermas. It’s up to you to keep an eye on Alan.”
“Very well,” I sighed.
“You don’t like Alan?” Landis asked curiously.
“No, no.” I hastened to reassure them. “Alan is a fine tom, just…”
“Immune to your charms?” Corrin’s eyes were twinkling.
“No one is immune to my charms.”
“Hm.”
“He’s just… complicated,” I finally said. “But I can watch over him. I want to get to the bottom of this, and if I have to handhold a high mage, I will.”