Page 2 of The Sun King's Noon

“Kaelen will teach you first, you big-eared clown!”

Thankfully, the herald’s voice blasted, interrupting what Richard was sure would involve two royals screaming creative threats at each other.

“And now, by tradition”—the herald bowed—“His Majesty shall choose his favoured champion!”

Curious murmurs resounded as Kaelen brought his horse to a halt beside Corwin’s.

“Must I?” Richard whispered to Elara. “Could you not do it?”

“It isHisMajesty’s favoured champion, Brother. NotHers.” She snorted. “Not yet anyway. Wait until I poison your wine and claim the throne.”

“You are welcome to it,” Richard muttered. He stood, his cape billowing around him, and his crown feeling all too heavy as two faces peered up at him. Corwin had his jaw set, eyes bright with expectation. Kaelen puffed up his chest and smiled.

The herald’s assistant hurried between the two horses to pass Richard a garland of roses. He bent to accept it and addressed his people.

“Before me are two valiant warriors. Would that there be two garlands to honour their skills.”

His words were greeted with a few good-natured jeers, demanding a choice. Briony plucked his sleeve and wheedled at him to pick Kaelen. Richard held up a hand, and silence fell.

“And yet choose I must.”

He could choose Kaelen. The knight would beam as if Richard had wreathed him in gold. The people would clap at their favourite being honoured. And Kaelen, Richard knew already, would be the winner. Corwin had unhorsed seven knights during his matches today, but his tendency to twist too early was something Kaelen would make use of tomorrow.

By all accounts, he should pick Kaelen.

But then Corwin’s tantrum would dwarf even High Ardenia’s towering gates. The boy’s pride was a wild thing, too easilywounded, and no matter how beloved he was by the people, he was reckless and a fool when nursing a grudge.

In any case, Richard had never truly been able to deny his own.

With a sigh, he placed the garland on Corwin’s lance. Applause erupted, interspersed with a few boos.

Corwin’s face split into a victorious grin. He hefted the roses high and bellowed, “The king is wise!”

Richard glanced at Kaelen. The knight’s hands had tightened on his reins, but in a blink, Kaelen was shoving at Corwin’s shoulder and issuing playful threats.

“I had no choice,” Richard told a glaring Elara and Briony. “We have to live alongside our dear brother, after all.”

Briony muttered, “Kaelen’s poems are going to be so sad.”

Richard rolled his eyes. Why should he feel guilty? If Kaelen possessed the slightest wisdom, he’d understand.

Nevertheless, the furrow of Kaelen’s brows lingered, and it was with a sigh that Richard leaned back in his seat to watch the crowd thin out. Families spilled down the tiered steps, children tugging parents towards food and toy stalls behind the yard. Vendors called out honeycakes and cider. Squires darted around, hefting their master’s armour and swords.

In the lower tier of the neighbouring stand, bodies were packed close. By the rope partition was a lithe man in a worn jacket that reached to his knees. His cheekbones were on the verge of tearing through skin, and his eyes were milky white.

Blind, then, but he stared right back at Richard as if he knew where to look. A giggling couple bumped his shoulder, but it did not appear to register.

Richard frowned. Something about the man’s tousled mousy hair and full lips rankled at him. Had they met before?

“Brother!”

Richard jerked his gaze to Briony.

“Look, he dropped his stupid feathers!” She pointed with a cackle. “Oh, heissilly.”

Richard’s shoulders sagged. In the yard, Corwin dismounted to hurry after his plumed helm. It must have fallen while he attempted one of his theatrical bows.

Quickly, Richard searched for the blind man.