Edmund took a single sip of the beer. It was warm and watery, and the aftertaste held a suspicious tang of sawdust. Even with the slight alcohol content sanitizing whatever water the barkeep had used in the beer, it still wasn’t likely to be healthy to drink the whole thing.
He set the mug on the table but kept his hand on it as if he was just another laborer looking to drown away a day of grueling work. “What’s going down?”
Trent wouldn’t summon Edmund for one of their secret chats if it wasn’t important.
With a sigh, Trent swirled his beer in his mug. “Do you remember that story that I agreed to sit on for a while?”
Edmund’s stomach clenched. Trent had been one of the reporters allowed to cover the war with Kostaria. He’d spent a great deal of time with the elves, and he’d had enough knowledge of elvish to understand the things being said about Farrendel.
Newspaper reporter that he was, Trent had followed up the lead and soon uncovered the whole story of Farrendel’s illegitimate birth. Shortly after Edmund returned from Kostaria, Trent had come to him.
In exchange for keeping the story quiet for a while longer, Edmund had given Trent details on politics in Kostaria and the Dulraith that had been fought, something that reporters hadn’t been privy to. Trent had been able to publish exclusive stories that had done well for the Aldon Times while Edmund had bought time for Farrendel and Essie.
He had hoped the story could be buried forever, but his realistic side had known this day was coming. “What about it?”
“I’ve heard through my contacts that a reporter at the Escarlish Sentinel has been sniffing around your brother-in-law’s past.” Trent’s mouth pressed into a tight line.
Edmund gave in to his own scowl. While the newspapers varied in how they presented the royal family, the Sentinel had an anti-monarchy bias, reporting stories that verged on tabloid lies even if the paper stayed just enough on the side of truth to avoid libel charges. Back when Essie had first married Farrendel, the Sentinel had been one of the papers stirring up mobs of people and encouraging anti-elven sentiments, like those that had led Lord Bletchly and Mark Hadley to betray Farrendel, Essie, and Escarland.
“Do you think their reporter has learned anything?” Edmund tried to keep his tone and posture casual, in case anyone glanced toward their corner.
“I don’t know for sure, but they likely have enough to write a story, even if it isn’t well-researched or well-written.” Trent’s expression darkened even more.
And this was why Edmund maintained his friendly acquaintance with Trent. While Trent was a reporter and the two of them didn’t always see eye-to-eye, Trent was at least an honest man who held himself to standards.
Trent pushed aside his beer and leaned forward. “Look. I can’t sit on this story any longer.”
“The anniversary of our peace treaty with Tarenhiel is in three weeks.” Not to mention Essie and Farrendel’s anniversary. Edmund kept his voice low, though no one was near enough to eavesdrop. He didn’t ask outright if Trent could wait until after that, but the implication hung out there.
“I can’t wait longer than a week or two. I wish I could, but I can’t.” Trent heaved a sigh. “If the Sentinel breaks this story before the Times and my boss learns that I sat on this for months, it would be my job on the line. Nor do you want whatever twisted version of the story that the Sentinel puts together to be told first.”
No, he didn’t. Edmund stared down at his beer for long moments. Essie and Farrendel deserved to celebrate their first anniversary in peace, not spend it dealing with all the mud-slinging and temporary scandal of this revelation.
But it seemed they would have no choice.
Edmund huffed his own sigh. “What do you want in exchange for waiting a week to give the palace time to do damage control?”
A week wasn’t long, but it would let them prepare, at least. Hopefully the first heat of the scandal would pass before the treaty celebrations began.
“An exclusive interview with Prince Farrendel and Princess Elspeth.” Trent shrugged, a wry tilt to his mouth replacing the scowl. “I’m not asking for much. You’re going to want to schedule an interview with at least one of the papers to tell your side of the story. It might as well be me.”
Trent was correct, and Edmund likely would have gone to Trent asking for an interview anyway.
“Deal. If you give us a week, then I’ll talk my sister and brother-in-law into giving you an exclusive.” Essie would be fine with it, but Farrendel would be harder to convince.
Trent gave a nod in return. “Done. Though, if it looks like the Sentinel is going to release the story early, I’m going to have to do so as well.”
“Understood. You’ll let me know if that looks likely?” Edmund sat back in his chair.
“Of course.” Trent picked up his beer, sipped at it, then set it down with a grimace. “Believe me, I don’t like this any more than you do. I’m all right with giving your brother grief on his policies, but your sister doesn’t deserve the flack that’s coming her way, even if she married an elf.”
“He’s a rather good elf. As you’ll find out when you interview him.” Edmund swirled his own beer, sloshing some of it over the rim of his mug. Better on the grimy table than in his belly.
A good elf who was going to be in a rather bad place when he had this dumped on his shoulders.
Perhaps sitting at that desk stuck with paperwork was preferable after all.
Chapter Four