Page 46 of The King's Bodyguard
“A grand plan, your majesty,” Lord Elthorne said. “That will at least placate most of them. As for the… detractors. They will remain, as ever, disenfranchised, I warrant.”
Landis tugged on my hand.
“You’re riding with me.” He said and then added with a short glare at Gareth and Hugh. “Alone.”
I grinned and allowed him to lead me toward the waiting carriage. Behind me, I caught a glimpse of my parents standingthere, wide-eyed in shock. I thought of their words in the dungeon. It made me sad to think that they had so little faith in their own son. The sadness lingered for but a moment. They weren’t worth my time and energy. Not anymore.
There was Landis, saying my name over and over again and laughing and tearing up. There was Landis and his hand in mine, and then his hand up my shirt as the carriage began to rumble onto the road. He had wriggled his way onto my lap and pinned me against the carriage wall. This time, our kiss burned as our tongues tangled together, as we reminded ourselves of what the other tasted like.
There was Landis.
Epilogue
Landis
The sky overhead was like my wedding day—a blue sky and a bright sun, but this time with long low clouds crouching on the horizon, promising more snow. The wind, blowing from the northwest, was crisp and chill. Beneath my boots, white snow that had remained from last night crunched loudly. I could smell the sharp clean air of winter, a hint of smoke, and the ever-present scent of Corrin. Leather and horses, sun-drenched hay and pine. His arms were around me as he drew me in for a quick hug.
“You ready?”
I stared up at the rope that had been knotted about the great oak’s now bared branch. It was the thickest branch and did not so much as tremble with my weight, but I couldn’t help but wonder about the integrity of the knots.
“Why do I feel like this is some assassination attempt waiting to happen?” I joked.
“I’ll always check before you have a go.” Corrin chuckled. “Do you need a starting push, your majesty?”
“Yes, good ser,” I said with a light snicker that suspiciously sounded more like a giggle.
“Gods, they are stinkingly sweet, aren’t they?” Hugh said from his cold seat on the stone bench where Gareth also sat.
The two watched Corrin and I fuss about the swing he had hung for me. There was a slight smile on Gareth’s face. Knowing that Corrin was by my side and would remain there for the foreseeable future no doubt made his and Lord Elthorne’s job easier. Hugh simply enjoyed the romance. He was the court’s most renowned rake, but that love of tumbling girls and boys hid a deeply steadfast soul that was loyal and devoted to me. If I was happy, Hugh would be happy as well.
Walking into the snow-covered garden, Alan approached, looking a little disgruntled. He huddled in his thick fur coat against the cold. I had no idea how many layers he had put on, but he resembled something more similar to a fat sheep.
“Does Alan not look like a fat sheep?”
Corrin surveyed the young, white-haired, bespectacled mage and laughed.
“How is he moving? He looks positively rotund. It’s a miracle.”
“I have to,” Alan said crossly, stamping his feet. He tucked his hands into his coat pocket and stared at Corrin and I who had opted for fur jackets, a scarf, and little else. “I would die in an instant otherwise.”
“I suppose the White Tower does not get snow?” Hugh’s lips twitched with amusement. “Too far south?”
“They have created a shield of ambient temperature—“Alan scowled and broke off. “Not that you actually care.”
“I don’t,” Hugh agreed blithely. “But it does seem a tad bit short-sighted to coddle their mages that way. Perhaps we should move it further north? Velamere, perhaps?”
Alan looked horrified. Even Gareth joined our laughter with a dry chuckle.
“Well,” sniffed Alan. “While the rest of you were gadding about, I was hard at work.”
“With that potion of yours?”
“Which one, Hugh? You really must be specific.”
“The, er, Elixir of Divine Fertility or whatever gods forsaken name you gave it.”
“Oh, that? That is coming along swimmingly, thank you. But no. I had a report written up for you, Gareth. Hand-delivered. For security’s sake.”
