The young man standing off to the King’s other side evidently objected to this as much as I did. For the longest time he had stood beside the throne in silence, but growing visibly more agitated as time had gone on. Having finally had enough, the man spoke up for the first time since we’d arrived. He turned his surprised face to meet the King’s haggard countenance.

“Father, is this really wise? They could be Algrustian spies! If the small one is really a mage, then we should torture them for whatever information we can before executing them! Think about this, Father.” Great. Apparently senseless bloodlust runs in the family.

The King fixed his stony gaze on the young man. “You dare question our laws, Marcus? You dare question your King? You will hold your tongue! You are not yet king, no matter how much you wish it so. Do not dare challenge my authority in front of foreign criminals. Use what little brains you have, boy!” He rapped the scepter against Marcus’s head, displaying far more strength than I would have expected from the ailing man. Marcus recoiled away, embarrassment on his face.

The King bellowed again. “The scouts reported that these men were found at the foot of the Devil’s Jaw. That means they came from the direction of Guilford, not Algrustos. The only people who cross into Ishmar from Guilford are either mercenaries or fugitives, or both, and if they took the treacherous mountain pass, with its beasts and foul weather, then they did it out of desperation. If you would actually pay attention to anything other than yourself for more than half a second, you would be able to tell a desperate man when you see one.”

HeThe King narrowed his eyes as he looked at Alverd and me again. “You can smell it on them. Look at the way this one stands. Probably ex-military, knight training if I’m not mistaken. Look at the polish on his armor. No mere spy would willingly attract so much attention. No, it is a habit formed from experience. Any fool could see that this boy was a knight once.” The King squinted a bit, then sneered. “Or at least, pretends that he could be one.”

I glanced at Alverd’s face, and I was surprised by what I saw. Although Alverd’s face was set in an even stare, I could see… turmoil set in his features. I knew right away what he was thinking. I was willing to bet Alverd was feeling the same hate as me knew what was stirring beneath that eerily calm façade. We were face-to-face with the man who had stolen everything from us. Our home, our friends, our lives. No wonder he was struggling to contain his fury. We had lost so much, as a result of this man’s ambition and arrogance. Alverd was feeling the same hate as me, but was still struggling to contain his fury. However, now was not the time for him to lose his cool.

Odd as it was for me to play devil’s advocate in this situation, when my life was on the line, I felt it an appropriate role to play. I elbowed Alverd, and he broke eye contact to look at me. I very slowly shook my head. He got the message and relented. There was precious little we could do anyway, not without weapons. The sad truth is, without my staff I had very little fine control over my magic. Even if I did manage some kind of spell, it would, best case scenario, kill everyone in the room quickly. Worst case, it would probably just kill me.

A staff acts like a grounding rod for all the magical energies a mage channels during the casting of a spell. Without it, it would be like running around in a thunderstorm carrying a twenty foot metal pole straight up. The moment I conjured the power necessary to use the spell, the magical force would surge through my body uncontrollably and burn me inside out in a heartbeat. Then, whatever raw magical energy I had managed to unleash would be free to rage out of control in the environment around me.

Normally, a staff only served as a conduit for magical power. Whatever magic a mage used had to pass through some kind of exterior focal point, and the staff served that function by creating said point at its tip. Otherwise, the focal point would originate somewhere inside a mage’s body, which would kill the mage the moment the spell was cast.

There are a few documented cases of people actually casting spells without staves, but I have only read one such account; of a mage from Algrustos who had managed to control the wind around him in an attempt to stop a tornado from destroying his village. His village had long been ravaged by seasonal natural disasters, and every year he lost people dear to him. Finally, after coming of age, he decided to take a stand. Although he succeeded, he died immediately afterwards, with only a burnt out husk remaining.

Even then, the “account” I had read was little more than a legend, one told to Algrustian children at bedtime, so I had no way of knowing if it was even true. But so many others had tried, and all of them ended up with the same fate: a one-way trip to whatever waited beyond this mortal coil.

I didn’t know about Alverd, but I really didn’t want to die at this juncture. I’d follow my best friend anywhere, but not if he wasn’t thinking clearly. Fortunately, the decision was moot, for at that time, Alicia piped up.

“Father? If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to take the prisoners away now. If I may have your leave?” She followed her request with a modest yet respectful bow, which I wouldn’t have expected from her. The King’s face flickered, but the change in his tone was almost too subtle to catch.

“Yes. You and your prisoners may go, Alicia.” There was a sense of warmth in his voice that wasn’t present when he had berated Marcus moments ago. I didn’t have time to dwell on that, however.

A guard grabbed me by the arm and started dragging me out of the room. I saw that the other guard was taking a different approach to moving Alverd. He poked Alverd in the back with his spear, which didn’t register because of his armor. Alverd, however, moved quite readily, and the soldier didn’t have to repeat his brutish gesture. We were pushed out of the throne room almost as quickly as we had been tossed in, probably because the guards were eager to see us tortured.

The guards led us down a corridor lined with portraits of previous kings and queens. Other than all being blond, I noticed that they all shared an edgy look to them, a ruthlessness in their faces that each artist managed to capture flawlessly. Perhaps it was even intentional, given that each ruler was known for some conquest, famous battle, war, or some slaughter.

Each ruler wore that distinction like a medal, adding to the barbarous reputation of Ishmar as a whole. The current King most likely had a portrait in this hall as well, painted at the height of his rule, and at some point, maybe even Alicia would. Or worse, maybe that Marcus bloke. I shuddered at the thought.

Speaking of the angry little she-devil, Alicia strolled ahead of us with a spring in her step, probably thinking about the horrors she was about to inflict on us once she got us to the dungeon. Meanwhile, I was sweating nonstop. I felt as though I was about to pass out. The thing about mages is that we have a bit of a low pain tolerance. That’s what happens when you study books nonstop instead of exercise, eat healthily, breathe fresh air and get the occasional bit of sun. It’s the reason we don’t fight on the front lines; we’re squishy and don’t like it when people with swords, maces or bows try to kill us. So, thinking when I thought about all the various torture implements waiting for us, I almost cried.

Finally, we reached a large pair of ornate doors made of shimmering ivory. The two guards opened them, and unceremoniously tossed me in like a sack of potatoes. Alverd was also shoved in. Alicia closed the doors behind her after the guards left, bowing their heads as they did so. Thank goodness I had landed on a fur rug, it really helped cushion the… Wait. Fur rug? I looked up.

The room was beautifully decorated with fine silks and tapestries, a large fireplace with flawless marble, and a canopy bed that could probably fit three grown men side by side, with luxurious sheets and embroidered pillows filled with goose down. I found that I was lying on a tarketan fur rug, and that it easily dwarfed the one Alverd and I had killed only a few days ago. Finely crafted furniture and hand-carved tables rounded out the room, and through an open armoire I could see dresses of the highest caliber, made from materials highly sought after in this part of the world. There was only one conclusion. We were in Alicia’s room.

The princess in question locked the door behind her and sat down in an enormous chair, crossing her legs idly. We stared at her in awkward silence for a moment. What was there to say? We were in a room alone with a girl. She had locked the door. Now she was staring at us with expectation in her eyes. What were we supposed to think? Visions of torture changed to visions of… indecency. I didn’t have any better explanation for her behavior. Finally, the Princess broke the silence and the awkward atmosphere. When she spoke, the haughty tone from before had returned.

“So, now that you are aware of the law of our land, will you submit to my judgment, or do we do this the hard way?” The look in her eyes was starting to get on my nerves. But I was more intrigued by what she had said than annoyed by her expression.

Alverd looked puzzled. So was I. He asked, “What do you mean, ‘submit?’”

Alicia sighed in exasperation. She began toying with her shoulder-length hair, looping a stray strand around her finger absent-mindedly while she spoke.

“In this country, when one commits a crime against another and is caught, the victimized party has the right to invoke the Rite of Reconciliation. In that case, the perpetrator is forced into servitude to pay off the weight of their crime. In this case, you’d be my servants until I felt that you’d atoned for your slight against me. The alternative is immediate execution. What do you think?”

She began drumming her fingers on the armrest of her chair impatiently. My mind was racing furiously. But in the end, there were no pros and cons to weigh; it was a simple matter of life or death. Which was why Alverd interrupted my thoughts. He immediately agreed to Alicia’s terms while I was still working on realizing the futility of weighing pros and cons.

“My lady, it is my solemn duty to atone for the grievous insult I have inflicted upon you. It would be my honor for us to make it up to you in whatever manner you see fit.” He’s making that face again. His stupid smile of total compliance. I stood there, flabbergasted, as Alverd signed our souls over to a girl who would probably feed us to an overgrown lizard as soon as she was done with us.

We were as good as doomed, now. But since we were dead anyway if we refused, it didn’t really matter. Damned if you do…

What I didn’t understand was why Alverd was being so nice. This girl was our enemy. She was the daughter of the King of Ishmar, the man who had the blood of countless innocents on his hands. Even if he was simply observing his knightly training and treating Alicia with respect simply because she was a princess, it didn’t change any of the facts. Fortunately, I had never sworn any such oath of chivalry, so as soon as I was able, I planned to let Alicia know exactly where I stood on the servitude issue. Preferably when Alverd was out of earshot, since he had a tendency to disapprove of my vulgar vocabulary.

Alverd quickly slapped his hand over my mouth. I guess he assumed I was thinking of making some snide comment, which I found offensive, since I wasn’t planning on saying anything. I guess he just assumed I would. Not that he would have been wrong, he’s just playing it safe. Not a bad idea though.

“And Kuro here will do the same. I’ll make sure to keep him in line, Princess. You’ll find he can be very observant and diligent.” He added that almost as an afterthought, as though trying to convince Alicia of my worth. I felt a kind of subtle loathing gnaw at me from deep within at his words.

I forced myself to give a facetious smile after I pulled his hand away. “Yeah, it’s just that sometimes other people don’t like it when I diligently point out the things I observe about them.” Alicia frowned, but then smirked. “Go ahead and be blunt, then. I guarantee I can be blunt, too.” She hefted her fist and I realized she’d outplayed me. I felt a tiny bit of respect, for just a fleeting moment.

Satisfied at the outcome of our little verbal spar, she stood up and walked over to the fireplace before turning, turning to face us. When she did so, however, her expression had become grim and serious. She paused, and when she spoke, the haughtiness from before was replaced with apprehension.

“What happened to my dragon… wasn’t entirely your fault.”

I was shocked, but not shocked enough to come up with an unnecessary sarcastic remark.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I could’ve sworn I heard the beginning of an apology in there somewhere.” Alicia looked miffed at my tone, but mostly my little quip had done little more than annoy her. I had hoped to insult her more, but I guess she was made of sterner stock.

Alverd gave me a pointed look. Then he tried to placate Alicia.

“Please excuse my friend. He can be rather… harsh, sometimes. It comes from his upbringing. He can’t help himself sometimes, poor soul. But he means well.” Alverd elbowed me brusquely, and I tried to smile sarcastically by showing all of my teeth.

On the inside, though, I scowled. I hated it when he tried that. Trying to make me look nobler than I was. I told the truth because that’s the way I was; I didn’t need to sugarcoat things. Especially when I was talking to people I had no respect for. Well, truthfully, it was more that I didn’t want to sugarcoat things. The world had dealt me a pretty bad hand, and I felt no need to make things easier for people who I felt were better off than me.

“I couldn’t tell the whole truth in front of Father or my siblings, but now that it’s just us… I can reveal something. I…lost control of my dragon. He went feral while I was feeding him, and flew off. Then he attacked you, and you had no choice but to slay him. I fear that the royal soldiers will inform Father eventually, but I could not bear the shame if any of my siblings learned of such an incident…”

The girl before us looked very different than the one who had only hours earlier been swearing at us in a blind rage. She seemed even smaller, frail, as if she were a porcelain doll about to crack under pressure. When she continued, her voice was choked with stifled tears.

“To lose control of one’s dragon is a sign of one’s ineptitude. It means that I am unworthy of my station as a dragon tamer. It means…that I am unworthy of being a princess.” Her hands balled into fists, and I could almost imagine her fingernails digging into the skin of her palms. “If it were to be madecome public, then I would be stripped of my royal title and cast out, and shunned by all of Ishmarian society. I’d be worthless.”

Alicia began shaking visibly. She was now sobbing as well. Tears streamed down her face in rivers. Alverd strode over to her and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. When she looked up, she saw his reassuring smile.

“Do not fret, my lady. Regardless of what others say, we have sworn service to you. We will stand beside you, no matter the trouble.” Gods, sometimes I forgot the impact Alverd had on women. The handsome devil could charm the birds out of the sky if he wanted to. Against a girl like Alicia, who probably had never had anyone pay such earnest attention to her, there was simply no hope at all. I once saw him talk down an irate mercenary captain with his smile and the promise of a tankard of ale; compared to that, this Princess was easy prey.

Alicia stopped sobbing just long enough for a look of confusion to cross her face. Then she scowled, and moved away from Alverd, her face wary, guarded. Her posture seemed to suggest that she thought Alverd was only being so nice so he could shove a dagger in her ribs. But despite her initial reaction, she quickly composed herself.

“I… I will inform Father of your decision. I’ll have a room prepared for you two before the evening is out. We have much to do tomorrow, so make sure you get some sleep.”

With that, Alicia marched us out of her room. She immediately rushed off. About half- an- hour- later, a maid came and informed us that our accommodations were ready, and led us to our guest room. I was certainly glad. A hot meal, a warm bed, and my head still firmly on my shoulders was a great way to end a day. At least, if you overlooked our unending enslavement to a spoiled princess for the rest of our lives. Reminded of this, I whirled around to face Alverd, who was in the process of bedding down for the night.

“I notice that you had nothing to say to that girl, Alverd.” I walked to his bedside and scowled. “You and I both know what her father did. And yet you treat her with respect and civility! What in the seven hells is wrong with you?”

HeAlverd shook his head. “Kuro, I’m surprised at you. Even if you didn’t have lessons on chivalry every day for years on end, one would hope that a fine young man like yourself would accord himself properly in the presence of a lady. She confided in us, and that took a great deal of trust on her part. Trust that I plan to repay in the immediate future, and that you should think about repaying as well. If you think on the matter, I’m sure you’ll find yet another reason underneath it all as to why this girl deserves our respect.”

With that, he turned over and pulled the covers tight. I returned to my own bed, still fuming. I lay beneath the expensive silk sheets, racking my brain regarding Alverd’s final comment. Nothing came to me, though. My frustration was blocking my ability to think straight, and I finally gave up after about a half hour. Curse Alverd! I loathed his nonchalant attitude. I knew that he still harbored certain thoughts about home. For him to act like he did around Alicia galled me far more than anything. I wanted to smack some sense into him, but I realized it wouldn’t do much good. I pulled the sheets closer, and decided that I would think on it further in the morning, after a good night’s rest.

Little did I realize that sleep would offer no respite.