Chapter 22
In the days leading up to the banquet, Kathryn spent all of her time on administrative matters and Ren spent all his time training. Chance went to visit Zafiyah every day and returned every night with a more cheerful bounce to his step. He spoke little about her, preferring to tease Ren and Kathryn whenever he saw them.
On the day of the banquet, Kathryn sent a servant to help Ren dress, only to hear him calling out indignantly, “Kathryn!”
She rushed to his door, throwing it open, only to pause when she saw that he stood in the middle of the room stripped to the waist. “Kat, this fool is saying I have to wear that,” he said sharply, pointing to the outfit on the bed. For a noble, it was relatively simple: a lightweight red robe with a silken gold sash. Another larger sash would hang over the shoulder and show his status as one of the Champions.
The offending part seemed to be the turban, which lay in a heap of gold and tan cloth.
“It completes the outfit,” Kathryn said calmly. “I can show you how to put it on. You’re excused, Evonsif. I’ll help him myself.”
Raising an eyebrow, the servant nonetheless bowed and left the room while Ren fumed. “There’s too much fabric here; it’s impossible to fight in, and totally unnecessary. We’re from Iridalys. Why do we have to pretend we’re not?”
Kathryn put a hand on his arm, trying not to notice his well-built form. “Because Iridalys cast us out,” she said quietly. “We’re no longer citizens of that country, but of Tephraya. So we should dress like it, at the very least in public.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
Kathryn didn’t want to remind him yet again that he was a nobleman, as he always got a grave look on his face when she did. She picked up the robe. “They’re not as restrictive as they look. The cloth is quite light and airy.” She couldn’t resist pausing to pat his braid. “That servant did a good job,” she remarked.
Ren smiled and caught her hand. “You shouldn’t give me too many compliments,” he warned her. “Particularly when I’m dressed like this.”
She reddened and pulled her hand away. “Let’s get you dressed properly,” she said.
Afterwards, she couldn’t quite hide a smile. Ren looked so out of place in those clothes. She tucked a stray hair behind his ear and said, “You look perfect.”
“You’re lying,” Ren replied resignedly. “You know, this feels awfully familiar. We’ve been here before, haven’t we?”
“More or less, but in this place, we’re not foreigners in a strange land. Remember, this is our new home. There’s just one thing we need to talk about first. Be very careful of how you speak if the king chooses to speak to you. In Iridalys, knights can speak to the king, but here, the king is much more distant from his people and even from the nobles.”
“Got it. I just won’t talk,” Ren agreed.
“Well, you can talk as much as you want; just not to the king. After all, you’re no mere bodyguard. You’re a Champion. I’m told that’s a higher position than most nobles hold.”
Ren started. “Really?”
“Yes. So, just be yourself and don’t worry.” She kissed him on the cheek and swept out of the room before he could react, calling over her shoulder, “Meet me outside when you’re ready to leave!”
The carriage ride to the palace was awkward. Kathryn wondered if she should have kissed him, given their last argument before Ren defeated Xian, and Ren spent all his time mulling over what he’d done to cause such an unusual reaction.
When they reached the King’s Palace, Ren actually leaned his head out of the carriage to get a better look. He’d never seen so much gold in his life. The gilded spires shone brightly in the afternoon sun, and stone arches shadowed the path to the massive double doors that led to the Great Hall.
The doors themselves had a design of a screlagor decimating an entire troop of soldiers. Ren muttered to Kathryn, “Doesn’t seem to make much sense to celebrate a loss.”
“Sh!” She glanced nervously at the servants who led them in, but none of them seemed to hear. Within the hall, Vesper stood waiting to greet them.
“The King is awaiting you. The other Champions have yet to arrive.” He spoke to Ren rather than Kathryn, and his eyes gleamed with an expression that worried her. It was cold, calculating, and ruthless, undeterred by his warm smile. “Would you prefer to wait for them or enter now?”
Ren looked at Kathryn uncertainly, but she chose not to speak. She realized he’d rarely had the opportunity to make decisions for himself. He cleared his throat and said, “I guess we’ll wait.”
“A wise choice, Champion Patrick. I am Lord Vesper. I oversee the training of the Champions that are stationed here at the palace. You will meet them soon. I believe you already know Lysander.” He nodded at the talk, dark-featured man who stood at his side.
Lysander bowed, saying, “Welcome, Champion Patrick.”
Ren frowned. “I don’t remember you,” he said honestly.
Kathryn had to suppress a sigh. “He helped care for you after you were injured in the last bout,” she reminded him.
“It’s all right, my lady.” Lysander flashed her a rather sad smile. “The Champion is not obligated to remember.” Kathryn thought that his eyes seemed a bit sunken, and whenever Vesper moved, he flinched and shuffled a step away as if by instinct.
Ren noticed the smell of death that had bothered Kathryn in the office that day, and his lip curled, but he only said, “Sorry. I’ll remember next time. It’s good to see you again.” He held out his hand. Lysander hesitated to shake it.
Vesper said, “You may not be aware of this, Champion, but shaking hands is hardly the normal form of greeting here in Tephraya. A bow is quite sufficient between acquaintances; a kiss on the cheek is common for close friends and family.”
“Even between men?” Ren couldn’t hide his astonishment.
Kathryn touched his hand to remind him to control himself, but fortunately the two other Champions arrived at that moment and the massive doors opened to let them all into the dining room.
Ren stared up at the vaulted ceilings that were so high he could barely see where they ended. Naked golden statues in the corners of the room confused him, and it looked to him like all of the plates and utensils were solid gold.
Lysander murmured from his left, “Try not to appear quite so shocked. You would be wise to avoid drawing the attention of the king.”
Ren shut his mouth and nodded tersely. “Thanks,” he said.
The king sat at the head of the table, which could seat 25 people. Every chair was gilded and the red silk tablecloth had a golden lining. Ren and Kathryn moved to two adjacent seats, and Vesper sat on Kathryn’s other side. The smell of death mixed with lavender made her turn her face away.
Hardly had they found their seats when the king said in a booming voice, “Welcome, champions!” He lounged back in his chair, which was almost as large as the throne he’d used at the Contest. “All of you are my friends and allies, except for one. In hopes of changing that tonight, that one should sit up here, by me.” His dark eyes narrowed and he smirked. “Ren Patrick! You should sit here instead.”
Dumbfounded, Ren glanced at Kathryn, but she simply stood up and held out her hand to him. Together they walked over to the seats next to the king. He gestured to his left side. “I did not invite you up here, Lady Kathryn of Zahra, but I will accept your presence if you sit on my left side.”
This capricious request made the other lords and ladies in attendance mutter among themselves. Ren bit his lip as Kathryn sat next to the king, her face rigid and her green eyes cold.
The king had toned down his gold jewelry compared to his presence at the contest. A few simple gold bracelets jangled on his wrists, and a single ruby necklace at his throat gleamed in the light from a hundred candles. His hair was as black as the bottom of a well and his black eyes glittered like lit coals.
He leaned over his bowl of delicate soup and began to eat, and the others followed suit.
Ren’s eyes widened at the first bite and he started to cough violently. Kathryn handed him her glass of water, and he drained it. The food was incredibly spicy.
Tarik took that moment to remark, “I wonder why you’ve decided against aiding me, Champion. I believe it would be in your best interests.”
Ren glared at him, and Kathryn’s stomach sank. The young warrior said shortly, “I don’t believe in slavery; that’s why.”
“Oh? But I’m sure you would never find yourself on the side of the rebels. That would be too foolish, not only for you, but also for your woman.” He smiled at Kathryn and put his hand on hers as she stiffened.
Ren started to reply sharply, but Kathryn shot him a warning look.
“Your concern honors us,” she said lightly.
“I’m sure it does.”
The king squeezed her hand painfully and she winced.
What on earth is he trying to do?
Ren couldn’t stand it any longer. He leaned closer to the king and spoke quietly in his ear. “Let her go, or it won’t be a champion you see at your table tonight, but her bodyguard. I promise you that you don’t want that.”
Kathryn closed her eyes, her heart pounding so hard she could hardly breathe.
The king released her with a smile. “I was merely curious to see the depth of your affection. I was right, then. She is your woman.”
“You could say that. Or rather it’s probably better to say I’m her man.” Ren shot her a quick grin, but she couldn’t bring herself to return the smile.
“Well, that is lovely. I hope I didn’t hurt your hand, my lady.” She shook her head wordlessly. He placed a goblet in front of her. “In apology, please drink this. It is my finest wine.”
Kathryn found her voice and said, “I must ask for you to excuse me, your majesty. Wine makes me tired, and I have never been able to tolerate it-”
“That should make the evening more interesting. I hope you will accept; it is a gift from your king.” He smiled at her, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
She didn’t know what to do. Refusing food or drink would be considered a serious breach of manners in Tephraya, and particularly so since it came from the king. However, she remembered the one time she’d had wine far too well. It took her about half an hour to fall asleep with her head on the table.
Before she could make her choice, Ren held out his hand for the goblet. “I’ll receive it on her behalf,” he said calmly. “I’m her champion, so I can do that, right?”
Kathryn started to say, “That’s not quite-”
“Of course; go ahead,” the king interrupted. Ren drank the contents of the goblet, surprised by how good the wine tasted. Then he kept eating, seemingly unaffected. The king gave him a delighted look and remarked to Kathryn, “Your man is even impressive at the table. How long has he served you?”
“Since we were children, your majesty,” she replied quietly. “I should say that we are both quite grateful for your benevolence as shown through the Contest. And I can assure you that we have no intention of opposing you in any way when it comes to the slave rebellion.”
“Well, I am pleased to hear that, but you can understand why I wouldn’t be convinced. I do believe, however, that I can convince you to aid me fully.”
“And how do you intend to do that, your majesty?”
“Perhaps I can woo you. I’m told that a king makes for an excellent partner.”
Kathryn nearly choked on her soup. Ren’s bright red face told her she should say something quickly. “I could never consider myself worthy, your majesty.”
Tarik began to ask her questions about herself, and she was so distracted by answering throughout the next three courses that she didn’t notice Ren wasn’t looking well. He began to perspire, and his face lost its color.
Finally he reached across the table and seized her hand with the words, “Kat, something is wrong.”
Kathryn saw the alarm in his eyes and her heart dropped. Tarik said calmly, “Many of these foods don’t suit foreigners, and you may be experiencing some ill effects. If you wish to be excused, you may.”
He stood up, calling abruptly, “All of you are excused!”
The bewildered attendees dropped their utensils as he swept out of the room. Ren could barely stand. He felt dizzy and his stomach churned.
Kathryn said worriedly, “Do you think some of the food was bad, or the wine?”
“I don’t know; I just…I’m going to lose all of it.” He clamped his hand over his mouth with a desperate look in his eyes.
Vesper hastened to their side. “It looks like the Champion is indisposed. I will take you to a room and you can care for him,” he said quickly.
Kathryn merely nodded. She felt like a giant hand had reached into her chest and squeezed her heart. What if Ren was really ill? What if he died? She had promised to protect him. She had to keep him safe.
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