Page 11 of Kingdom of Locks

“Who could it be, I wonder?” Sir Furnis mused. “If there is a conspiracy, of course.”

“No idea,” said Amell brightly. “We’re all going to give our Enchanters’ Guilds a once over, so I suppose that’s somewhere to start. Seems unlikely it’ll lead anywhere, though. Still, imagine if we were the ones to figure it out, Furn! What a lark that would be.”

The guard just shook his head, his expression a mixture of exasperation and indulgence as his charge drifted into grand visions of single-handedly uncovering a nefarious plot against Solstice’s crowns.

This cheerful state of mind didn’t last. The closer the group traveled to Fernedell, the further Amell’s mood dropped. The trip to Entolia for his old friend’s wedding had been a welcome point of interest in his frustratingly predictable life, but he knew that as soon as he reached the castle in Fernford, he would be back under the restrictions that so chafed him.

“It would be an adventure, though, wouldn’t it?” he said, a touch wistfully. “Having to fight off some powerful magical attack?”

Sir Furnis shot him a look. “It’s a strange thing to wish for, Your Highness.”

“I suppose it sounds bad,” acknowledged Amell. “But the other royals at that table managed to overcome their curses.”

“Not without significant cost,” Sir Furnis reminded him gently.

Amell sighed. “You’re right of course,” he said, the words lacking conviction. They’d all seemed fine to him. Most of them even appeared to have found love through the experience. His thoughts flew to an old fantasy, of himself swooping in heroically to save some beleaguered damsel, and earning her eternal love and gratitude into the bargain. She’d be beautiful, of course. Long flowing hair, sparkling eyes, a look of utter trust and admiration on her face when she gazed at him.

He smiled self-consciously at the childish image. He’d outgrown those sorts of daydreams years ago, of course. But he still craved adventure. And he wasn’t sure what was more disheartening—the fear that the royal duties laid out in an endless trail before his feet would beat that desire for adventure out of him, or the fear that they wouldn’t, and that he’d spend his entire life not only bored, but bitterly frustrated.

With a sigh, he cast a glance over his shoulder, back toward the distant dragon colony. He’d wanted to go by a less direct route so as to pass near the area and try to catch a glimpse of the mysterious realm of the dragons. But the captain of the guard responsible for the delegation wouldn’t hear of it.

Around noon of the second day of travel, they approached the city of Fernford. It was pleasantly situated on a large grassy plain, surrounded at some distance by four sizable groves. They rode through the southern grove at a quick pace, everyone eager to reach their destination now they were so close. When they emerged from the trees and Amell caught sight of the city, he tried to assess it dispassionately. It was a pleasant place, bustling with activity and bursting with color. Everywhere spring flowers bloomed from window boxes and market squares, and even the poorest classes favored cheerful fabrics that made the capital seem alive with the constant movement of bright colors. And the castle rising up from the center, many red flags flapping in a brisk breeze, was the prettiest part of the picture.

It brought him little joy.

“Take heart, valiant prince,” Furn said softly, as they rode into the castle courtyard.

Amell glanced over, lifting an eyebrow in surprise at his guard’s sympathetic smile.

“You face a particularly difficult monster to vanquish,” Furn continued, “but I have faith in you.”

A little bemused, but heartened all the same, Amell dismounted and handed his horse off to a hovering groom. Never one to hang back, even from a less than pleasant task, he took the steps two at a time and charged the nearest page with notifying his parents of his arrival. Furn kept pace behind him, and soon the two of them were striding through the castle in the direction of a small private dining hall used by the royal family.

Amell located not only his parents, but his sister eating a luncheon inside.

“Tora!” he said, smiling in genuine pleasure at his only sibling after greeting his parents more formally. “Did you miss me?”

“It was certainly quiet in your absence,” said the princess tartly. She softened the words with a grin, and rose to embrace him. “Hello, little brother.” She turned to Amell’s guard. “And hello, Furn. Good to see you brought him safely home again.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” said Furn, bowing deeply.

“Tora,” said Queen Pietra reprovingly. “That’s hardly an appropriate way to address Sir Furnis.”

“Oh, I forgot,” said Tora innocently. “You refer to him as Sir Very Patient Man, don’t you? You’re not wrong, of course.” She sent Amell the ghost of a wink.

The queen colored faintly, and Amell knew his mother was once again deeply regretting the comment she’d once made in exasperation, and which her children had never grown tired of repeating.

“You must be hungry,” said Tora, resuming her seat. Her eyes flicked to Furn. “Both of you. Do join us.”

Furn, who’d remained silent and unmoving through the entire exchange regarding himself, shifted slightly in place.

“I wouldn’t dream of intruding, Your Highness,” he said, his voice a little stiff.

“Your decorum does you credit,” said Queen Pietra firmly. Her children, having waited in vain for her to follow the words with a gracious invitation for Sir Furnis to nevertheless eat with them, scowled at each other. But neither of them pushed the point. It would just make Furn uncomfortable. And even Amell was honest enough to admit that, as his personal guard, the poor fellow already had enough to put up with.

Amell seated himself across from his sister, reaching out for a cold ham in the center of the table.

“Did I miss anything exciting while I was gone?” he asked, as Furn assumed a place against the wall behind him. The guard was really too experienced and too senior to stand in the position of a manservant, but he clearly knew as well as Amell that the king and queen would want a report from him before he was dismissed.

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