Below, the musicians shifted into a more lively set, and a synchronized tide of dancers twirled across the floor.Bastion shrugged, not really seeing them.He wished he were back atThe Serpent’s Rest, where the only people he knew were Ulla and Bart, and the worst he had to deal with was a rowdy pirate.
“I was, and then I wasn’t,” he said.
“What changed?”
“When we were at Moonwatch–”
His heart rabbited in his chest, and he knew where this conversation would lead–to a topic he’d hoped to avoid a little longer.But it might be some time before he and Endre had another chance to speak privately.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”He tightened his arms across his chest.“Before anyone else has the chance to bungle it worse than I’m about to.”
Endre straightened.Not in the way he did when he put on the mask and authority of the prince, but in the way that showed he knew they were done playing.
Before he lost his nerve, Bastion blurted, “I’m part Yvri.”
Endre blinked, raised an eyebrow, and said, “So?”
“What do you mean, ‘so?’”
“Shouldn’t that be an improvement on Lyanthis’s opinion if you want to court his daughter?”
Bastion was sure his jaw was on the floor.
“Endre, we’re not talking about Ulla right now.”A bitter smile pulled at his lips, the words hoarse.“I’ve been hiding my lineage since the day I set foot in the palace!”
“Oh,” the prince said.His expression turned quizzical.“So?”
Bastion slapped a hand over his face, massaging his temples as he shook his head.Then, he dragged his fingers through his hair, across the ridges there.
“This is going to impact the decision over my knighthood,” Bastion explained.“If not sink it completely!”
Endre stepped forwards, wearing the same genial smile he always had when they were getting up to no good, and threw an arm around Bastion’s neck.
“You,Sir, are worked up over nothing.”He steered Bastion away from the balcony.
“And you,Sire, are forgetting there is no precedent.”Bastion tried to disentangle himself, but Endre tightened his arm until Bastion was pinned in a headlock.
“Well, there should be!”Endre laughed.They grappled, falling into old wrestling moves that hadn’t been exercised in some time, each failing to get the upper hand when the other knew every move in their arsenal.“There should be Yvri and Varo and Acari knights among our ranks!And women, if they so choose!If I have anything to do with it, there will be!”
Bastion freed himself, hair disheveled over his eyes.He swept it away as he sucked in a deep breath.The Acari pendant loomed in his mind.Suddenly, a part Yvri knight seemed like the least of his worries.
__________
Skylights let in bright morning light as a servant led him to a part of the southern wing he’d never visited before.Bastion didn’t notice when they stopped–he was too busy thinking about Ulla and his dwindling sense of her.The bond felt weaker, and that terrified him.
The servant put a hand on the handle of an ornate door.Bastion fidgeted with the small, wooden box in his hands, pulling himself back to the present.The door opened, and he stepped inside.
“Ah, Bastion!”King Torvald said.“Thank you for coming.Forgive the tight quarters, but Mama insisted she be present.”
“Don’t pretend it’s an inconvenience when you know I’m right,” the Queen Mother crowed, her voice sharp, like metal against metal.
Age hadn’t diminished her posture or the no-nonsense expression on her face, framed by a severe, silver updo.From the way she dominated the room, the armchair she occupied may as well have been a throne.
Beside her, Queen Thyra relaxed, her gown and hair arranged so artfully she might have been sitting for a portrait.She gave Bastion an encouraging smile, which normally would have put him at ease.Instead, he fought for breath and bowed in greeting.
When he straightened, the king motioned him towards a table set with tea.
A quick glance told him the ladies had already been served, so he took a seat across from the king.He set the box between them and shifted his sword so it folded neatly against his leg.
