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smiled to herself.
    In all, he probably introduced her to twenty
warriors, and then he explained the function of the various
buildings to her. He started first with the armory.
    Elwytha showed her first spark of interest.
“How many weapons have you inside?” she asked. Mayhap he would be
foolish enough to show her.
    He regarded her with faint amusement. “You
may not enter the armory. Do not approach it, either.”
    “ More threats?”
    “ A warning.” Next, he led
her to a grassy courtyard. Two men clashed swords, practicing their
skills. Elwytha’s blood quickened as she watched. How she wished to
practice, too. At home she tested her skills every day.
    As if sensing her interest, the Commander
remained where he was, too. “I first learned to wield a stick
here,” he said.
    An unwitting interest sparked in Elwytha.
“Truly? How old were you?” She had been six.
    “ Seven. It is when I met the
Prince for the first time.”
    Elwytha found this information interesting.
Perhaps she’d learn more about the Prince and the palace workings
if she pressed the Commander for details; at least, this was the
justification she allowed for her keen interest. “How old was the
Prince?”
    “ Five. We learned
together.”
    “ And so you became friends?”
she pressed.
    “ Good friends…as the
brother neither of us had,” he admitted after a moment.
    Hence, the strong bond she had sensed between
the two. “The Prince has no siblings?”
    “ The King sired none after
him. His nannies wished to coddle him. He hated it, and often
escaped to practice in the yard. We spent many hours sharpening our
skills, and getting into trouble.”
    “ The Prince’s doing?” she
guessed.
    The Commander smiled faintly, but did not
reply.
    Elwytha pressed on, eager to make the most of
this opportunity, while her betrothed spoke freely. Another
question, on a different subject, had nibbled at her mind for
years—long before being snared in this enemy pit. “Why does the
Prince wish to be called Prince, when clearly he is the King?”
    Restlessly, the Commander moved his shoulders
and strode away from the grassy practice field. Wishing to hear his
reply, Elwytha followed closely by his side. After a moment, he
said, “It is something he does not speak of.”
    Elwytha was disappointed. Didn’t the
Commander know? Or perhaps he didn’t wish to tell her. Excitement
energized her. What great mystery could he be concealing? But when
she searched his unreadable face, she wondered if she might be
looking for mysteries where none existed.
    Likely the Prince had been called thusly all
of his life, and when his father died a few years ago, had decided
to keep the title. He certainly appeared undisciplined enough to
follow his own unconventional path. Perhaps it pleased him to be
different from other kings.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter
Five
     
     
     
    Elwytha arrived early on
purpose to the great dining hall that
evening. It freed her of the indignity of arriving on the
Commander’s arm. Unfortunately, it also meant she had no buffer
from the Prince, who already sat in splendor at the head
table.
    With reluctance, she sat on the same bench as
last night and sent the crown regent a cool, distracted smile. She
sniffed the air and watched servants lug pots to the tables. Stew,
from the smell of it, and no doubt delicious, as Mary was a fine
cook.
    The Prince spoke, interrupting her pleasant
meditations on supper. “You enjoyed the tour of my castle this
afternoon, Princess?”
    Elwytha reluctantly looked upon the Prince’s
sharp features and mocking black eyes. What did he mean by such
comments? She trusted him not an inch. She retorted, “I am pleased
to be enlightened about the layout of your fortress.”
    The Prince gave a thin smile. “Does battle
still wage in your heart, Princess?”
    “ Nay.” She pasted a fake
smile upon her lips. “I feel privileged—nay—astounded to be
afforded such trust from my betrothed…and you.”
    The stew