Page 57 of Rise of a Fallen Man

“Well...” The games master’s expression relaxed. “You are such a rare visitor. It is a true honor to have you here, Your Highness. I may be able to shift the line in your favor and possibly arrange something for the end of this week. It’s against the rules, of course, but since it’s the first time you ever showed an interest in one of my boys—”

“Oh, I’m not interested in him,” I protested promptly. “Not in that way, anyway. I need to talk to him about an important matter. My father got injured this morning...” Despite my best effort to keep it together, my voice broke off. The image of my father lying in bed, unable to even utter his wife’s name and struggling to breathe, flashed through my mind with a stab of sharp pain through my heart.

The games master pressed her hands to her chest in alarm.

“The king is hurt?”

“Yes...” I swallowed a painful lump lodged in my throat. “Some of his injuries are of the kind that the royal witch can’t treat with the most desired outcome.” Now, I was the onebeating around the bush when there wasn’t much time to lose. “Can I count on your confidentiality, Master?”

“Of course, Your Highness. In this place, we pride ourselves on our discretion. We know how to keep ladies’ secrets.”

“I need to find someone who is familiar with the biology and function of male reproductive organs. I hope your Mountain Bear might know a warlock who performs that kind of surgeries for a living.”

She gave me a cautious look.

“A warlock? We don’t employ them here, Your Highness.” She shook her head adamantly, sending her curls into a bounce. “But I know the boys find ways to have certain surgeries done, anyway. They’re so eager to please the ladies who show them affection and favor.”

“Yes, so...” I rubbed my forehead between my eyebrows where the tightness of worry was steadily building up into a headache. “Can I speak with Mountain Bear or Raeb, please? I’m hoping he can direct me to someone for help.”

“Why Raeb? Regit was the one who got the surgery done just a couple of days ago. Though Raeb met with the warlock who performed it, too, as I’ve learned. Regit is fully on the mend, by the way. I assure you his performance at the games will not be affected.”

Her mentioning a recent successful surgery gave me hope.

“I’m glad Regit is well, but I prefer to speak to Raeb, please.” I’d much rather discuss this with someone I knew and trusted than with a stranger. Also, I knew for sure that Salas would keep it a secret if I asked him. “My father needs help as soon as possible. I can’t delay.”

“Of course,” the games master finally conceded, turning to the main staircase that led up to the second floor. “We can certainly make an exception in this case. You can see Raeb rightnow. He has about thirty minutes before his appointment with Countess Ciryl.”

Countess Ciryl.

The name brought to mind the image of the smiling, chatty woman I’d met many times. The countess served on several committees as a supporter of the arts and was the major benefactor of the Theater of Opera and Drama in Egami. She also had an exceptionally lovely voice and was often asked to sing at the events in the royal palace.

She’d be a pleasant companion to spend an afternoon with. I couldn’t blame Salas for planning to do just that. Unlike me, the countess was also unmarried. There was absolutely no reason why a single woman and an unattached man shouldn’t enjoy an evening together... possibly a night, too, if they so chose...

By the time I reached the top of the stairs, I felt as winded as if I climbed the highest peak of Drazil Mountains. My chest felt tight, like I was wearing one of Father’s waistcoat corsets. And my hands turned cold and clammy like dead fish.

“Raeb.” The games master knocked on one of the several doors along the second floor’s hallway. “Princess Aniri is here to see you.”

There was a pause in his response, and the games master didn’t wait, pushing the door open.

“The crown needs your help, sweetie,” she said. “I’ll make sure the countess knows about a potential delay with your scheduled rendezvous.” With a polite bow to me, she left, leaving me standing on the threshold to Salas’s room.

Late summer air blew through the open balcony door, but I easily caught his scent in it, the scent I’d been hunting for in my dreams. I inhaled deeply and made a step in, closing the door behind me.

Holding a folded shirt, he stood by a tall chest of drawers painted with swirls of stars. A laundry basket was at his feet with a stack of clean linen in it.

“It is really you, Princess,” he said softly, as if afraid to scare away a dream.

Hearing his nickname for me knocked the air out of my lungs. The corset of longing tightened even more around my chest. Memories teased, both tantalizing and tormenting. Clutching handfuls of my skirts at my sides, I focused on every breath I took.

“Good day, Salas.” I licked my dry lips and cleared my throat. “It’s very nice to see you again.”

“Nice” was such an inadequate word. The weather outside was nice—warm and pleasant. Seeing Salas again felt like a salvation I didn’t search for and didn’t know I needed.

With his eyes on me, he poked with the shirt at a closed drawer above the open one. Realizing his mistake, he sighed and dropped the shirt back into the basket.

“You do your own laundry?” I asked, wrinkling my skirts in my hands.

“No. The laundry is done for us. I just have to put it away.”

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