“The kind I’m related to,” Wren said with a sigh.
Leo nodded. “Ah, yes, the very worst kind of idiots. I know from experience.”
Wren laughed, and Leo offered her the flask.
“To the worst kind of idiots,” she said, raising the flask before tossing back a burning mouthful.
“And to new friends,” he added, taking it back and draining the container in one.
* * *
The lights in Commander Duncan’s council room went dark not long after, forcing Wren and Leo to abandon their perch and hustle back the way they’d come. As it turned out, Leo hadn’t climbed out his window as much as fallen, and with the late hour and excess alcohol, he wasn’t managing to scale the two-story distance without help.
And help unfortunately came in the form of Wren, standing on the ground beneath his window while he perched painfully on her shoulders, kicking her head and bruising her collarbone as he reached and scrambled and finally, mercifully, got a hold of the window ledge and hauled himself up.
Once inside, Leo poked his head out the open window, tossing her a wink before disappearing back inside.
Smiling, Wren returned to her room—but she took the stairs.
* * *
The following day dawned obnoxiously bright, the bell tolling the shift change impossibly loudly—and earlier than usual, Wren was sure—but it didn’t matter, as she was already awake.
Suddenly, for the first time in weeks, her life felt like it had purpose. She didn’t truly know what Leo could or couldn’t do for her, but at least it was something, and if she happened to have fun in the process? All the better.
Yes, her head pounded a bit, and her mouth was dry, but a spot of breakfast would surely cure what ailed her.
If Wren was feeling the effects of her late night, Leo was much, much worse. Their eyes met across the dining hall, and though his hair still shone like spun gold and his jacket was pristine, his skin looked pale, his eyes lacking their usual sparkle. Despite being a bit under the weather, he smiled at Wren and nodded in acknowledgment as she entered the room.
She hovered, uncertain. Should she sit at the high table again? Odile was absent once more, and the other representatives were there, but this was definitely a less formal affair than the welcoming feast. Wren was needed to perform Odile’s duties, not to warm her seat. When no one called her over, she decided to slide onto a bench and eat with the rest of the tributes.
Still, she watched the high table as breakfast wore on.
Leo sat perfectly straight, not a button or hair out of place, head resting elegantly on his hand—though his eyes were closed. Despite this fact, he managed to flag down a servant for more coffee without needing to open them, his empty mug held aloft until someone had the presence of mind to fill it. The Breachfort did not usually serve coffee, an expensive import from Selnor, but as the prince downed his third cup, Wren could only assume Leo had brought the beans himself.
Finally, Commander Duncan stood, and the room fell silent. Leo’s eyes opened.
“As a part of his official inspection, Prince Leopold will accompany me and a small party east of the Wall so he may examine our defenses in greater detail and ensure they meet with royal approval.”
Leo nodded imperiously, but there was new tension in him that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps he was nervous to go beyond the Border? Or maybe he was just anxious to perform his royal duties correctly.
“If you are not assigned to our escort,” Commander Duncan continued, “your regular patrols will go on as scheduled.”
There was a collective groan and screech of benches against stone as the others got to their feet to report for their usual duties, while Wren waited, hoping…
Commander Duncan’s searching gaze found her in the tumult, and he waved her over. Her heart leapt.
She joined the group of people milling in front of the high table while the rest of the guards and tributes cleared out. She caught Leo’s eye and grinned, hoping her presence might ease his worries somewhat. He smiled tightly and waved for another cup of coffee.
Commander Duncan announced that the patrol party would be made up of a team of Prince Leo’s own guards, his cousin and retainer, Galen, the commander himself, and a handful of the Breachfort garrison, in addition to Wren.
When it was time to depart later that afternoon, Wren and the others filed into the courtyard, where horses milled, saddled and ready to be mounted, and the prince’s carriage sat, awaiting its royal passenger.
She checked her armor and weapons, knowing they would not be used but wanting to make sure she represented her order proudly. She also ran through everything she knew of the fort’s undead defenses. Surely Odile knew more, but she doubted the prince would require a full treatise on the subject. Just a few highlights would do. Besides, she wasn’t going to dazzle him with her knowledge—her winning personality was her best chance at securing favor. Where it would lead, Wren didn’t know, but she allowed herself to envision a letter arriving at Marrow Hall, stamped with the prince’s seal, raving about Vance Graven’s exiled daughter and her skills at the Breachfort. Maybe he’d even request to take her on himself, have her join his traveling party full-time. It wasn’t unheard of and was almost a requirement when traveling to some regions of the Dominions where bonesmiths were less common.
Wren was heading toward one of the horses when Leo hooked her arm. “You’ll be riding with me, Graven.”
Grinning, Wren turned back around—and walked straight into Commander Duncan. “Mount your horse, tribute. We’re preparing to depart.”
“You know, Commander Duncan, I’d feel much safer with the bonesmith by my side for the duration of the inspection. We are heading east of the Wall.”
“Your Highness, we’ve not had an attack from the undead in seven years! I assure you, it is perfectly safe.”
“If it’s perfectly safe, I wonder why the crown spends so much gold on the Wall’s upkeep?” Leo mused, glancing around. “Perhaps our resources would be better spent elsewhere, if the Breach is no longer a threat…”
“The Breach is still extremely dangerous,” Commander Duncan said, changing tack at top speed. “To say nothing of the Breachsiders who linger beyond our borders. I only meant that the specific section of the Wall that you will inspect has not seen action—has been thoroughly tested—rigorous standards—”
“All the same,” the prince cut in, “I’d feel safer with someone who is properly armed and trained to deal with such a threat, should it occur. I might be the Twice-Spare-Heir, but I am still a prince of the Dominions.”
“Of course, Your Highness, of course—anything to put your mind at ease. Your safety is our top priority, I assure you. Lady-Smith,” he barked, flapping his hand at Wren to indicate she should climb up. “You will ride alongside the prince.”
Wren climbed up somewhat smugly. It was a strange feeling to be wanted—to be seen as a valued friend rather than a last option or nagging burden.
Better not get too attached to the feeling.
She thought of Odile as they prepared to set out. She hadn’t had a chance to check in with her all day, but perhaps it was best, as the woman was feigning an illness. Still, Wren wished she could see the look on her face when she saw how well her plan was turning out.