Page 3 of The King’s Bodyguard (Catkin Trilogy #1)

Landis

A t Corrin’s words, my eyes widened. Corrin is assigned to the Royal Guard.

Since when? Why had Lord Elthorne not notified me?

I mentally ran through the most recent meetings I had with the old, gray-haired general.

Lord Elthorne had mentioned supplementing the Royal Guard with a complement of Munni catkin.

There had been some kind of discussion.. .

Ah, yes. Lord Berrymay and Lord Elthorne had argued over the matter of the Royal Guard.

Lord Elthorne hoped to honor the agreement my father made with the Munni kinsmen of Velamere.

Some kind of treaty was brokered by the Circle.

The Munni Seeresses and Matriarchs had gathered to swear allegiance to the crown in return for royal favors.

It pleased Father, but he never saw it to fruition.

Lord Elthorne hoped to capitalize on the foundation my father laid , I mused.

What better way to unite the country as we rebuilt than to draw upon the aid of our Munni kinsmen?

But there are some, like Berrymay who view the worshippers of the Moon with suspicion.

“I remember something of it,” I said tentatively. “There was—“

I stiffened as I realized what my next words might have conveyed to Corrin.

“Some debate?” Corrin asked, following me as I found a low bench beneath one of the oak trees.

I winced. Corrin was perceptive. The Corrin of old had been rash and outspoken. He had always gotten us into trouble with his wild plans, his unruly tongue, and his thirst for adventure. In some ways, I had simply been tagging along, but I never regretted it. Not ever.

Suddenly, I was back on the servant’s east stairs, creeping down in the shadows with Corrin as we slunk down to the Royal kitchens.

After slipping in, we made a beeline for the pantry.

Corrin had overheard some plans to make berry pie, and I had wanted a taste.

In less than a shake of the bell, Missus Pettimore, the Royal Housekeeper, had caught us red-handed, literally, shoveling pie into our mouths.

The last thing we had seen as we bolted shrieking with laughter and pain was the sight of the gray-haired matron brandishing her stout oak broom.

“That was great!” Corrin had crowed. “Mission success, I say!”

“Yes!” I had gamely agreed as I nursed a bruise on my elbow.

“Gods,” Corrin had sworn as he caught sight of my face. “Are you alright?”

“I think she hit my funny bone,” I had admitted, trying to be too grown up to cry.

“Lemme see,” Corrin said. “Perhaps I can put some ice on it.”

“You can’t go back down!”

We had argued, but we finally settled on easing our aches and pains in the fountain.

It was there that I realized that my mouth and cheeks were smeared liberally with berry juice.

Corrin had helped to wipe it off with the edge of his worn tunic.

After stripping down to our undergarments, we splashed about in the fountain, ignoring the shrieks of a maid who had emerged to do some gardening work. Corrin and I had simply laughed.

The memory faded, and reluctantly I allowed it to recede as the present once again took over.

This Corrin, however, was surely different.

Older. Wiser. It was common for Munni like Corrin to live in the wilds of Sumarene’s northernmost province, Velamere.

He had been weathered by his time in the mountains, no doubt living off the land.

Velamere. I recalled that it was ruled by the ancient Sunna family, the Derulans. Caught between difficult Sunna aristocracy and discontented Munni hunters, Corrin had, perhaps, come to understand the intricacies of political intrigue.

“I’m not surprised,” Corrin said. “Mother warned me about the ongoing tensions between Munni and Sunna. It is what it is.”

Or not. Something welled up in my chest. Something unfamiliar—a sense of hilarity.

Laughter. A small huff of laughter broke out.

Before I knew it, I was bent over my knees, trying hard not to giggle.

A king does not giggle. When I glanced up at Corrin, feeling a little flushed, he was staring at me with a wide grin on his face.

Corrin leaned back, propped his elbow on the back of the bench, and relaxed a bit more.

“There’s the Landis I used to know,” he said.

A pensive look crossed his face as I also straightened and wiped a tear out of the corner of my eye.

“You will have to curb that tongue of yours,” I said with mock imperiousness. “Honesty isn’t particularly welcome in Rimefrost.”

“I am sorry to hear it,” Corrin said with a put-upon sigh.

“At any rate, I suppose you are to represent the Munni in my personal guard,” I mused aloud. “Lord Elthorne’s doing, I wouldn’t doubt. He has great respect for Munni warriors and Wise mollies alike. He overruled Lord Berrymay and my cousin. You brought others with you?”

“Yes.” Corrin nodded. “Nine others.”

“Ten total,” I said.

“Ten of the best,” Corrin said a little stiffly.

You are the best. The most important, I couldn’t help but think. A blush threatened to rise to my cheeks.

“Lord Elthorne will be pleased,” I hurriedly assured him. “As am I, of course. I am glad to see a friendly face.”

“Even if it is Munni?” Corrin asked. There was a tinge of bitterness to his voice.

I stiffened a little and then said, “I never considered it important. Ever.” I blushed and then added.

“Once I asked Nanny why I had brown skin and why you had white. She said that was the way of nature, to care for her children. The Children of the Sun, worshipers of the god Solas, glory in its rays. They draw energy from the day and pursue power. The Children of the Moon, worshipers of the goddess Meryn, find shelter in its glow. They draw energy from the night... and they pursue love.”

At those words, I drew up my knee, rested my cheek on top, and turned away from Corrin’s gaze. I didn’t want him to know. It was something I couldn’t share with anyone. Perhaps Corrin would understand, but it was a matter of the heart. I couldn’t speak of my dream. Not yet.

Back then, Corrin had visited the capital with his mother.

He had a father also. I had neither known my mother nor had I really enjoyed a relationship with my father.

King Lansson had been a busy husband, father, and king.

Instead, Nanny, a capable matron, who did her best to oversee my upbringing, figured largely in my childhood.

She had not given me the gentle hugs of a mother or a clap on the shoulder as a father. But she had done her best.

No. Corrin wouldn’t understand , I sighed to myself. To find love must come naturally to him. He is a Child of the Moon, a Munni. Sometimes... sometimes I wish I had been born Munni. Munni are free to love as they please. If I said that to anyone though, they’d think I was mad.

“If only it were that simple,” Corrin’s voice broke into my thoughts.

My fingers now laced around my ankle and I waited. The slow rumble of his voice was soothing.

“All beings pursue power and love. For some, one is more important than the other, but it is simply a matter of the soul and the heart,” Corrin said.

“When I remember that summer we spent together... I recall a... a Landis who was just as warm-hearted as any of my kin. There is capacity for love in all of us. I would like to think that. Wouldn’t you? ”

I raised my head at that question. Our gazes met.

I felt myself drowning in the brilliant green of his eyes.

Fathomless and clear. I wanted to fling myself upon him as though we were children once again, throw my arms about his neck, and enjoy his warmth pressed against mine.

When we had run into the hall, I had been instinctively drawn by his scent.

It still hung there in the light breeze. Pine and hay and horse.

“I would wish it too,” I admitted impulsively. It spilled out then: “If I had been born Munni, I would be simply myself. I would have my own life to chase after. Like you!”

Corrin glanced away. The edge of his dark lashes lowered and then rose. I caught the small smile that graced his face even as he presented his sharp profile.

“Even the Munni have their duty,” he said, finally.

“They do?” I asked, suddenly curious. “What does it look like? Are you bound by vows? Are you trapped in long meetings of state? Are you to be wedded to a girl you haven’t met?”

“Long meetings, sometimes, yes. Vows... on occasion. As for marriage...” Corrin turned to glance at me. “That seems oddly specific.”

I blushed and glared down at the toes of my boots.

“I am to be married,” I muttered mutinously.

“Pardon?” asked Corrin, clearly not believing his ears.

“I’m. To. Be. MARRIED,” I said petulantly, feeling the flush rise to my cheeks.

“Gods.” Corrin blinked. After a beat, he delicately inquired, “Er, to whom, if I may ask... your Highness?”

“The princess of Esteria.”

“The princess of Esteria. That’d be Princess... What is her name? Which one? Aren’t there three?”

“How the hells do I know?” I said. “I was just told ‘the princess’. They didn’t specify.”

It was embarrassing, but I hadn’t thought to ask for the details. At Lord Berran’s words, I’d simply ceased listening. I barely recalled the names of the Esterian royals anyways. There was so much I didn’t know, and now Corrin knew how ignorant I was. I bristled a little at the realization.

“Gods,” Corrin repeated.

He too seemed a little bit in a daze. There was no snide comment about my ignorance. Instead, Corrin seemed to be entranced by the fall of the water from the ornate flower-tipped spout of the fountain. With a sigh, he glanced back my way.

“I know it is my duty. It is what I ought to do for all of Sumarene,” I raised my chin and tried to ignore the wetness which gathered at the corner of my eyes. “But I suppose that a simple Munni tom wouldn’t understand.”

“No,” Corrin said. His green eyes softened then. “I can’t. But I find myself...”

He stopped himself, perhaps reading something on my face. Corrin shifted then, nodded wordlessly, and then offered a pained smile.

“Never mind that,” he said. “Let me instead offer what support I may give, whatever you need, please ask of me.”

“I appreciate the offer.” I sounded more formal than I would like. “There is much at stake. If the marriage is successful, the treaty is sure to follow,” I said as much to myself as to him. “I just... have to do it.”

“But if you could, you would...” Corrin’s glove lowered to rest over my own. The soft deerskin leather brushed across my fingers in a soft caress. “You would wish yourself Munni. To love who you love.”

“Forget I said that,” I said roughly, wanting to pull my hand away.

I couldn’t. My body simply rebelled. Betraying my barely contained emotions, my golden tail quivered between us. Instinctively, I hunched. My ears lowered. But the reprimand I had half-expected never came.

“It was silly,” I said.

Somehow I managed to pull my hand away. I threaded my fingers through the fluff of my tail.

Our kind were blessed with cat ears and tails.

There were courtesans, lords, and ladies who learned the intricacies of full body control.

My royal half-siblings had been trained in the art of dance, the art of flirtation, the art of artifice.

From the tip of their tails to the hairs on their ears, they were able to command every inch of their body.

I had never been afforded the usual tutoring. The fourth son and seventh child of Lord Lansson had never been expected to amount to much. For the past year, Lord Elthorne, Lord Berrymay, and Lord Berran had done their best to make up for lost time, but I was still a work in progress.

Underneath my gold lashes, I shot Corrin another quick look. Corrin was still gazing at me with his usual forward manner. There was something about his look and posture that screamed confidence. His ebony ears and thick tail were perfectly relaxed.

I guess we really haven’t changed all that much , I realized. Corrin is still a bit of an idiot. And so am I. It came as a relief. Whatever happened, perhaps life would be a bit more bearable now that Corrin was around. I could only hope.