Page 32 of The Prince's Curse

“Close,” Dexil said, his voice encouraging. “Not air, but…”

“Sound!” Benjin exclaimed after another moment’s study. “It’s a barrier of shadow and sound, to stop anyone from seeing or hearing what the governors discuss.”

The Grand Magus’ proud smile lit up Benjin’s insides. “Excellent, my boy! It’s a bit more intricate than that, but that’s the gist. Once activated, the wards should provide those within complete privacy. Much easier than sealing off an entire room or creating an extradimensional space large enough to hold them.”

Benjin gave an appreciative nod, then turned his attention back to the runes. His gaze lingered on the sigils Dexil had used to denote a zone of silence. Goddess, how he wished he could conjure such powerful effects on his own. Perhaps someday, he’d be able to.

“Why don’t you help me finish these?” Dexil asked, pulling him from his daydreaming. “The runes are mostly complete, but I still need to dust them with the binding powder I prepared and infuse them with runeflame so that the wards can be activated on command when the Summit commences.”

Eager to glean all he could from the Grand Magus’ work, Benjin dove into the task with gusto. While Dexil finished etching the runes, he paused now and then to instruct Benjin on a particular sigil’s effect or answer a question. It wasn’t exactly the most challenging job, but Benjin nevertheless felt a thrill of satisfaction whenever a rune flared to life before falling dormant.

He was so caught up in his work that he didn’t notice at first that they had company. It was only when Dexil nudged his shoulder that he glanced up and discovered a retinue of guards and servants approaching. They parted as the group drew near to reveal Prince Haldric and King Roland at their center.

It was the first time Benjin had seen the king out of bed since his arrival at the palace. Even with his straightened back and fitted armor, it was impossible to disguise the king’s frailty. His face was pale and drawn, his hand trembling where it gripped Haldric’s arm for balance.

Haldric, by contrast, appeared the picture of a noble warrior. His embossed leather armor gleamed with intricate designs, and the polished hilt of his sword hung at his waist. He’d pulled his lustrous black hair back with a leather cord, his face cool and stern beneath the silver circlet he wore. A shiver raced down Benjin’s back when Haldric’s hard green eyes fell on him.

“Your Majesty!” Dexil dropped into a smooth bow. With an effort of will, Benjin tore his gaze away from Haldric and followed his master’s lead. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“I wanted to check on how things were progressing myself.” King Roland gave a strained smile. “Plus, my chirurgeons thought some time up and about might do me good. I want to be at my best tomorrow when the governors arrive.”

“A wise precaution, Your Majesty,” Dexil agreed. “Here, let me show you what I’ve prepared.”

The king spared Benjin a glance and offered a polite nod of acknowledgment before grasping Dexil’s proffered arm and allowing the mage to guide him over to the table. Benjin stared at the king’s back, overcome by a roil of conflicting emotions.

Ilthabard’s ruler was far from the uncaring tyrant Benjin would’ve expected before coming to the palace. He’d treated Benjin with respect the few times they’d met, always kind despite the immense gap between their stations.

Benjin might have even liked him…had he not ultimately been the one responsible for the terrible state of affairs in the streets. No matter how caring or wise King Roland might seem, the people’s plight had still happened under his watch. In the end, he was just another member of the pampered nobility, with no idea what most of his subjects’ lives looked like. Benjin knew firsthand how rough things could get, and he’d been luckier than most thanks to his magic.

And the prince?

Sneaking glances at Haldric, Benjin thought he’d spent enough time around him by now to recognize the nerves buried beneath his calm countenance. Haldric might wish to project the appearance of being untouchable and in control, but it was only that—a mask.

“You ready for tomorrow?” he asked, sidling up next to the prince.

Haldric glanced at him, raising an imperious eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Benjin shrugged. He turned to watch the Grand Magus explaining his wards to the king. “It seems like a pretty stressful situation. All those important people looking to you for guidance. If it were me, I’d be nervous.”

Beside him, Haldric stiffened. “I can’t afford to be nervous. Any weakness I display might be taken to reflect on my ability to rule. The governors will be waiting to seize any opening I give them to take advantage of me.”

“Well then, don’t let them.”

Haldric’s hard gaze flicked to him, surprise flitting over his face before he smoothed it away. “What about you—areyouready? Dexil told me you’d be attending as well.”

Benjin honestly hadn’t given it much thought. Now though, he felt his first flicker of nerves. His past experiences with nobility hadn’t exactly primed him to spend extended time in their company. What if he did something to embarrass the Grand Magus or accidentally spark a civil war?

A pressure bore down on his shoulder. It took him a moment to register that Haldric had rested his hand there.

“Follow Dexil’s lead, and you’ll do fine,” Haldric said. “More than likely, all you’ll have to do is sit there and look pretty.”

Pretty?Another time, Benjin might have taken the prince’s words as an insult. Here, however, he found them oddly comforting.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nodded.

Haldric gave his shoulder a brief squeeze before awkwardly dropping his hand. Without another word, he strode over to join his father and the Grand Magus. King Roland departed not long after with the prince in tow.

Haldric spared one last parting glance for Benjin as he left, giving him the slightest of nods. His lips quirked in what might have been a reassuring smile. Then, he was gone.

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