Ulrick nods, “Let me talk to Papa and see if Luka can go until Oskar finally releases you. I know you won’t leave her there by herself.”

  “I hate that man,” I grumble, “If I wanted something slimy and pathetic, I’d go poking under rocks.”

  Ulrick and Kenric both stare at me for a moment before bursting into laughter. Ulrick waves us back inside, “Let me show you where Papa keeps the whiskey. A remark like that deserves a drink.” Ulrick leads us inside and unlocks a cabinet.

  He opens the cabinet and it’s full of human liquor. He picks through the bottles and pulls one out, along with some glasses. Ulrick winks at me as he replaces the key to the cabinet where I can see it. I nod and smile, since he’s trusting us not to abuse the liquor hoard too badly. I’m Fey, and it’s rare for human liquor to do much more than make us a bit tingly. Fey whiskey is hard to beat. It’s lovely stuff. We make it from grain fermented with some of our local plants, then distill it. Humans tell me that it tastes a lot like a burnt sugar candy.

  We sit at the table, and I feel like I’m five again. The table hits me at mid-chest, and the chairs are so oversized, I feel like I could turn flips in them. Ulrick sees me peering over the table top and laughs as I sniff my whiskey and swirl my glass.

  Ulrick takes a sip and looks at Kenric, “Tell me everything. I haven’t seen you in ages. We were what, ten or twelve, when everything happened with your father?”

  Kenric nods and takes a sip of whiskey, “Eldert took me to foster.”

  “That’s what Papa said,” Ulrick replies, “We thought he should have brought you here, but…”

  Kenric shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it. Your mom hadn’t been gone long, and it was a double blow to your father to lose his wife and his brother so close to each other. I don’t think it was a month apart. Eldert was a good father. He passed not long ago, right before our wedding.”

  I give Kenric a bump with my foot under the table and reach for his hand. Kenric smiles at me.

  I look across the table at Ulrick. “I met Lord Eldert. That man loved Kenric. That’s why I told Kenric to have him stay for a while. I could smell the sickness on him. If I had thought she’d make it in time, I’d have sent for my mother to see if she could heal him, but there was nothing to be done. It was too far along. I’m sorry, love. You’ve lost two fathers.”

  Kenric looks sad for a moment, and I realize that this is affecting him more than he’s let on. I’ve lost so many that I’ve become a bit numb to it.

  Maybe there’s something in all that I can pull out for Kenric. Maybe something good from all that for once. We’re all quiet for a few moments before I break the silence. “There’s nothing wrong with grieving, love. It means they were important to you.”

  Kenric squeezes my hand and sighs before he continues. This is part of his life I’ve not heard much about, so I’m interested. “Eldert took me to foster and ended up not marrying. He managed my father’s estate and his own until I was old enough to take it over.”

  Ulrick nods, “I’m still not clear on all that.”

  Kenric nods, “My mother had a land dowry which was perfect for my father. My father had a title and no holdings. The two of them were quite a pair. Mama got sick when I was still pretty young. She and Papa kept trying for another son, but Mina’s birth… She got sick right after Mina was born. It took her a long time to get well. Ola and Sylvia blamed Mina for taking Mama from us. I suppose I did, too. Not as much as Ola and Sylvia, but enough perhaps. Papa sent the girls to Mama’s family.”

  Ulrick shakes his head, “Children get funny ideas about that sort of thing. You were maybe six or seven at the time, so that would make Ola five at most, and Sylvia would have been three, I think.”

  Kenric nods, “Mina went to Mama’s oldest sister. Sylvia and Ola went to Grandmama. I think they were afraid one of us might hurt Mina, so they broke us all up. Now, even though they’re my sisters, I doubt I would know them if I passed them on the street.”

  “Shame, that,” Ulrick says, “I don’t know what I’d do without my brothers or my sister.”

  “How many?” I ask.

  Ulrick grins, “Three brothers, one sister, and two half-sisters. Papa remarried a few years ago. My half-sisters are just getting old enough to talk to. I don’t know if you’ve met any of the girls. You might have met Klara when she was little. It’s been far too long since you’ve been here to visit.”

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  “It has. I should have come a lot sooner,” Kenric admits.

  “Gods, you’ve grown into your father’s shadow. You look and sound so much like him,” Ulrick says, “Uncle Othmar would be proud.”

  “Thanks,” Kenric says and ducks his head, sipping his whiskey. “I’m certain that Uncle Torsten’s proud of you. You haven’t changed much.”

  “I’m not the one who went off to the Fey kingdom and brought back a princess for a wife,” Ulrick grins.

  “I picked Kenric,” I say.

  Ulrick looks at Kenric, “Do tell.”

  “As I recall, I picked you before I even knew who you were,” Kenric says, giving me a shoulder bump.

  Ulrick watches us both, “This isn’t some business arrangement for either of you, is it?”

  I shake my head. Ulrick lets out a low whistle. “That’s quite a gamble, cousin. I’m sure the dukes are in a snit over it.”

  “It helped us secure the trade agreement, and that money helps to refill the coffers,” Kenric shrugs.

  “And that helps stabilize Centis,” Ulrick adds.

  “It’s at least a chance for peace,” Kenric shrugs again.

  “Maybe. Or maybe it’s a leash. Depends on who’s holding it,” Ulrick says, looking at me, rather pointedly. I watch Kenric closely since he knows these people, and I do not.

  He rocks back, studying Ulrick, looking for the boy he knew and trusted in the man sitting across the table. “You think I’ve lost my freedom?” Kenric asks.

  “I think,” Ulrick says carefully, “that you’ve stepped into a pit full of vipers. Oskar’s already circling, and the dukes smell blood. You’ll need allies, real ones.”

  Kenric nods slowly. “And you? Where do you stand?”

  Ulrick’s smile goes as sharp as a blade. “Same place I’ve always stood. Right beside you. Just don’t mistake loyalty for blindness, Kenric. I’ll fight for you, maybe even bleed for you, but I’ll speak truth, even when it cuts.”

  Kenric’s smile blooms slowly. I can tell he’s feeling the old bond stir beneath the years of distance. “Then speak it often. I’ll need it,” Kenric replies. Ulrick laughs and nods, “You have a deal.”

  “I’m not sure if Oskar’s still a problem,” I say, “It might just be some of the dukes. They worry me far more than Oskar does. I can handle that slavering hound. He’s not the first male I’ve ever dealt with that didn’t want to take no for an answer.”

  Ulrick looks at Kenric, “Why would Oskar not be a problem?”

  Kenric nods, “Tell him. I haven’t heard the full story yet, myself.”

  I nod, recounting Oskar arranging to have Kenric called away before we could leave, and his sudden, intrusive appearance in our rooms. I explain about his offers of so-called protection. “Then that annoying stain on the tapestry of history you call a king tried to put his hands on me.”

  Kenric looks concerned, “Gods! What did you do? Did he hurt you?”

  I snort. “I had a feeling he was about to try something, so I sent the ladies out of the room. It was just my honor guard. I removed his hands from my person, somewhat forcefully.”

  Ulrick’s eyebrows climb as I continue. “We left him sitting in a chair, wheezing like a wounded goose after I punched him in the solar plexus. Oskar’s a bit over a barrel. If he wants to accuse me, he has to admit that I leveled him with one punch.” I stand up, drop a proper courtly curtsey, and even with Kenric sitting, he’s still taller. “If he admits that tiny little me dropped him like a rock with one punch, the dukes will eat him alive. It will make him look weak. He’ll think twice before getting too close to me again. It will hurt him to breathe for a few days.”

  Kenric palms his face, “Oh gods! That’s what Hagiwara was trying to sign to me. You struck the king.”

  “I did. And there’s not a gods damn thing he can do about it,” I reply.

  Kenric’s face shows his shock, but Ulrick laughs, “No, think about it. She’s right. If he breathes a word of it, that this half-pint put him on his rear, the dukes will come for him. He’ll try something underhanded, but how is that any different than what you’re already dealing with from him? It’s not. It changes nothing, except that it removes the physical threat he represents.”

  I snort again. “He’s not that much of a physical threat.”

  Ulrick shakes his head, “Oskar is supposed to be one of the best swordsmen in Centis.”

  I laugh, “Not even close. Eight of the best swordsmen in Centis are right here in this house. Oskar wouldn’t stand a chance against any of us.”

  Ulrick’s eyes narrow as he thinks over what I just said, “Wait… you said ‘us’? You count yourself in that?”

  I nod, “Oskar is too slow, drinks too much, and doesn’t spend enough time practicing.”

  “Too busy chasing after other men’s wives,” Kenric grumbles.

  “Probably true,” I chuckle, “Practice is something I’ve been lax about while we’ve been at the palace. Kenric and his men are here. My honor guard is here. It’s time to do some drills. You’re welcome to join us. Once we’ve been in a ring, you can tell me if I’m wrong about my assessment of our skills.”

  “If I’m going to get in a ring tomorrow, I’d best not have any more of this,” Ulrick says, waggling his glass.

  “She means me, too,” Kenric says, wryly.

  Melina signals to me that my bath is ready. “I’m off to have a bath, shed all the dust from the road, and get some sleep,” I grin, “You boys stay up and keep drinking. It’ll make it easier to kick your butts tomorrow.” I sashay off as Kenric and Ulrick chuckle. While I’m bathing, I chat with Melina and explain tomorrow's training session. Melina promises that breakfast will be ready early so that I have time to prepare.

  The next morning, the clearing behind the lodge is alive with anticipation. Ulrick’s brothers and his father have come, along with a few of their men. Luka, Arno, and Tobias are leaning up against the fence, placing bets and making jokes. Torsten, arms folded, is leaning against a tree, watching everything with the gaze of a man who’s seen his share of battles. Kenric’s men-at-arms are clustered nearby, eager for a show. My honor guard are all in a neat line, relaxed but alert.

  Do you think Othmar was right to split up the children? Let me know in the comments...