Page 23 of The Faceless Mage

He knew she was right, but Leisa doubted it would help with his instinct to stay close to her. Zander was as honorable as they came, and he would do whatever was necessary to fulfill his duty to his king.

She was about to suggest a compromise when the sound of running feet in the hall outside her room announced the arrival of an entire contingent of Garimoran Royal Guards, who appeared at the door to her sitting room with their swords drawn.

“Your Highness,” their leader said, entering the room and bowing crisply. “My apologies, but your men have trespassed on the trust accorded them by virtue of their position, and it is now my duty to take them into custody.” His men continued to file in behind him as he spoke, until six of them flanked Zander, Kip, Terek, and Nyssa. “We cannot permit the armed forces of a foreign power to rampage through our halls unescorted, as they were well advised upon their arrival.”

He took a hostile step towards Zander, and suddenly Leisa understood exactly what had happened.

The Garimorans had planned this.

They’d laid down rules they knew no sane royal guard would endure, then left them unattended, with just enough of an opening to tempt them to revolt. A king as obsessed with security as Melger would never have left enough holes in his guard rotation to permit four armed soldiers to reach Leisa’s room unquestioned—unless they needed a reason to remove them from the palace entirely.

And with a timid, backwoods princess like Evaraine, they probably thought they could get away with it. Again, she had no way of knowing whether it was a test of Farhall’s sovereign resolve or a deliberate show of disrespect.

But no matter their motivation, now it was up to her to fix this. Without losing her temper or punching anyone in the face.

But she couldn’t revert to shy, timid Evaraine either. She had to be confident enough to get their attention and convince them she wouldn’t be patted on the head and dismissed like a child. So she faced the Garimoran’s leader and inclined her head regally. At least, she hoped it was regal. “Of course you cannot. It would be a terrible dereliction of your duty to your king, ah…” She looked over his uniform but didn’t see any indication of rank. “Captain?”

He jerked a single nod, obviously a bit confused by the princess’s sudden capitulation. “Captain Orvell, Your Highness.” He bowed, but not too deeply, as though not entirely certain what sort of gesture of respect was appropriate to the situation.

Leisa felt something from behind her, some intangible change from where the Raven stood, but couldn’t identify it. She only knew that it wasn’t the usual sense of threat, so she ignored it for now. It was going to take every bit of her concentration to speak in “princess” for the remainder of this conversation.

“Thank you, Captain.” She tried to look pleasant but firm, and decided in the process that she should have spent more time practicing in front of a mirror, no matter how deeply she loathed them. There was simply no way to guess how her expressions might look on Evaraine’s face. “I understand that you feel obligated to follow your orders to the letter. Just as my own guards do. And while we are merely guests in your kingdom, we are welcomed and invited guests, with every reason to believe we will be treated with cordiality and respect.”

Leisa could see the beginnings of worry crease the captain’s forehead, so she pressed on. “Perhaps it is different in Garimore, but in Farhall, the function of an Honor Guard is not merely to protect. If we had not implicitly trusted both the security and the hospitality of His Majesty King Melger, I would have arrived with an entire battalion of troops, not a handful of unarmored guards.” Evaraine’s guards were fully as capable as a battalion, with or without armor, but there was no reason for anyone else to know that. “By separating me from my guard, you have—inadvertently, I’m sure—signaled contempt for my station and the sovereign status of Farhall.”

Captain Orvell’s face turned a little green at the word “contempt.” So Leisa smiled graciously, letting a bit of Evaraine’s shy sweetness back into her voice.

“I’m certain—absolutely certain—His Majesty is simply unaware of this oversight, as he has been so welcoming in all other ways. I have every reason to believe that he desires our alliance to prosper, as does my father. However, should my guards be detained for the simple act of upholding their oaths and following their orders to serve as physical reminders of the respect due to a member of Farhall’s royal family, I fear the hope of continued accord between our kingdoms may be placed in grave doubt.”

Well, slap me with a fish, Leisa thought. She had no idea she was capable of so much malarkey. Maybe those three weeks of being closeted with Evaraine really had made a difference.

Of course, she had just made a none-too-veiled threat to dissolve this entire alliance if they didn’t give her what she wanted. Which was probably a step too far, judging by the look on Zander’s face.

However…

Captain Orvell bowed a bit more deeply. “Your Highness, my apologies, but I am only a member of the guard and can do nothing to change my orders without speaking to my superior.”

“I completely understand,” Leisa said pleasantly, waving a hand at the various chairs, couches, and cushions strewn about the opulent sitting room that served as an antechamber to her suite. “Fortunately, there is plenty of space for all of us to wait comfortably while you do so.”

An exaggeration. Between Orvell’s guards and Evaraine’s, plus Leisa and her new shadow, there were thirteen people, which didn’t count Lady Piperell and the three maids still hiding in the bedroom. It was a ridiculous number for a room this size, especially considering most of the guards were overly large and heavily armed.

But she’d started down this road, so she was going to have to follow it to the end. Leisa took a seat on one of the smallest chairs, carefully arranged the folds of her robe, and then nodded to Captain Orvell. “Don’t hesitate on my account,” she said. “I am quite weary from travel, but it is my duty to Farhall to see this through. I am more than willing to wait until your superior is free to discuss the matter.”

The captain swallowed convulsively, glanced around the room, and seemed to come to a decision. “Your Highness,” he said, then bowed and left in evident haste.

Just as Leisa was beginning to wonder how to soothe the tension that remained, Lady Piperell glided into the room. She paused beside Leisa’s chair with her hands folded and bent her head meekly.

“Your Highness,” she said, giving Leisa a discreet wink, “perhaps we could offer everyone some tea.”

On the inside, Leisa burst out laughing at the idea of an entire roomful of guards juggling swords and china teacups, but on the outside, she merely nodded her assent.

“Of course, Lady Piperell. That would be quite refreshing.”

* * *

Did she in fact have the nerve to serve tea on royal porcelain to ten guards who had probably never bothered with tea before in their lives?

Why, yes. Yes, she did. Or rather, Lady Piperell did, as though it were a normal, everyday occurrence. Though Leisa did notice a slight blush staining the older woman’s cheeks after Zander bowed and thanked her as properly as any courtier.

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