“Two days, maybe three at most,” the commander says. “They were seen skirting the coast, taking the same route as the passenger ships.”
“How many are in her party?” Lawrence asks.
“One ship—they assume less than twenty passengers. There are women aboard as well.”
“Of course there are,” Lawrence says darkly. “High Vale noblewomen, no doubt.” He growls under his breath and then commands, “Send word to Forsten. Tell them to detain Camellia until I can personally welcome her back. We’ll leave today.”
Xander clears his throat. “Your Majesty, I’m not sure that’s—”
“You’ll have my back, won’t you?” Lawrence interrupts.
“Yes…”
Lawrence nods, not about to be coddled. “Good. Tell the grooms to prepare our horses.”
“I’m going as well,” I say boldly, preparing myself for a fight.
I’m not disappointed. Lawrence whips back, giving me a sharp look. “Camellia has already tried to kill you once. Do you really think it’s a good idea to give her another opportunity?”
“She’ll have plenty of chances once she’s at court,” I argue. “And I have no intention of hiding.”
But we both know why I really want to go. Lawrence stands, indecisive. Finally, he throws up his hands. “Fine.”
“Your Majesty,” Denny begins to protest.
“I’mgoing,” I say to my brother, giving him a look of death.
It doesn’t work terribly well on him, but he closes his mouth, his stern gaze telling me we’ll have words later when he has a chance to corner me.
But then he turns to Lawrence, looking like something has just occurred to him. “Your Majesty, if I may make a request, would you consider assigning Clover a personal guard?”
“Denny!” I exclaim.
Don’t I already have enough people trailing me?
Lawrence slowly nods, and then he turns to me. “Bring Pranmore.”
“He’ll come even if I want him to stay,” I point out, relieved by his suggestion. “He transferred Henrik’s life debt to me.”
“I was thinking of someone with combat experience,” Denny says.
“Pranmore is better,” I argue. “He’s excellent with wards, and since we’re dealing with magic users, that will be more effective than a sword.”
“How about someone who’s notafraidof a sword?” Denny counters.
I’m about to snap at him when Lawrence says, “No, it’s all right, Clover. Your brother has a point. Pranmore is excellent when it comes to protective spells and healing, but he’s not a knight.”
“I absolutely refuse to have anyone else following me. I can barely breathe as it is!”
“Hurtful,” Calla teases from the shade of a nearby wall, where she and my other ladies drink tea at a small table and pretend they’re not bored to tears in the bailey.
I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
Then I focus on her,thinking.
“What?” she asks nervously.
“Lawrence, may I choose my knight?” I ask.