Wizard's Masquerade, page 14
“What’s happening tonight?” asked Leyna and Grace simultaneously.
“Tonight is the farewell feast for the king,” he explained, shuffling his papers incessantly. “He leaves for the Baxton estate early tomorrow morning with the queen and the court. I don’t expect he’ll be back until autumn, for he plans to visit many of his own estates as well.”
“Why is the king leaving?” asked Grace in disbelief. “Doesn’t he always stay here? On his throne?”
“It’s so the people can see him,” Leyna answered. “To show that he is in control.”
“Yes, that’s more or less correc—oh no.” The sheets of parchment that Chamberlain Percy had been holding flew out of his grasp and scattered to the floor. “Oh dear. My apologies…”
Leyna and Grace both dropped to help him regather his papers, several of which bore the title Tax Collections Royad Shire, which was where Leyna’s curiosity ended.
“The king often travels with his court,” continued the chamberlain, sorting through the pile on the tiled floor. “It’s so he can meet with his subjects and receive the homage of vassals. Therefore, he is rarely at the castle.”
“So, what about us?” asked Leyna. “Does that mean we’re going with the court as well?” The king and his court never travelled without a guard, even when visiting his own properties, and together with the nobles, servants and soldiers, the travelling party often equated to several hundred people.
“No, no, you’ll be staying here to guard Prince Seth,” said Percy. “The king and queen wish for him to stay at the castle to focus on his studies, so you will both be rostered to the prince’s guard as part of your other duties. You should report to Captain Marton tomorrow morning for your orders. We won’t have enough wizards to spare, so I know the captain will be relying on the two of you to supplement the prince’s guard.”
“The two of us?” asked Leyna. “What about Quinn?”
“Lord Quinn has been selected to accompany the king and his court on their travels. In the meantime, the two of you will remain behind to guard the prince and help maintain order here. I’m afraid you’ll be the only wizards left at the castle, unless we include Healer James, of course. And there is probably not much point in counting myself. I do hold a licence, you see, but I am somewhat out of practice. That being said, should either of you ever desire mentorship…”
Leyna nodded politely, but she was confident that the nervous man before her was the last person she would want as her mentor.
As for Quinn, she was undecided on how to feel about him being selected over her. Protecting the court as it toured the countryside seemed more prestigious than guarding the young prince at the castle. In some ways, it was a relief to be staying behind; now that she was finally home, she was reluctant to leave again, and was conscious of the saddle sores that had formed after only one day of riding, not to mention the stiffness of her left leg.
Travelling on the road could not compare to the comforts of the castle. Unlike the nobles, who travelled in relative comfort in carriages and stayed in splendid tents, inns or noble houses, Quinn and the other guards would be on horseback and sleeping on thin mats for the entire journey.
Her desire for a hot bath and a soft bed trumped all other ambitions, and she hoped her new quarters would be as fine as her old rooms beside her parents’ suite. It would be good to see her parents, but she wanted a healthy distance in her own quarters without her mother watching her every move.
Leyna became aware of herself nodding and realised that the chamberlain had been speaking to them for some time now. She glanced at Grace, who was also nodding along, but her eyes had glazed over as the chamberlain droned on about the tariffs that he was petitioning King Rutherford to lift.
His long-winded explanation was mercifully interrupted by the clack of footsteps coming down the stairs. A nobleman came into view, looking dashing in formal attire. He called out a greeting to them in a familiar, brusque voice that carried hints of a Kormendian accent.
It took Leyna a moment to realise that it was Quinn, and she had to look twice just to be sure. She was so used to seeing him wear blacks and greys that his sapphire-blue doublet, draped with a gold-braided surcoat of an even brighter blue, seemed out of place. Even stranger was his jet-black hair, which had been combed and oiled neatly into a side part. On the whole, he looked as stately as any nobleman. Leyna had never seen Quinn present so well, even at court, and found herself speechless as he strode towards them.
“Oh, Quinn, you look amazing!” exclaimed Grace, almost bouncing up and down as he sauntered over. Quinn looked remarkably unfazed as she reached out to touch his hair. “Oh, and I can see your face, how nice! You look like a real nobleman!”
“He is a nobleman,” interjected the chamberlain kindly. “And it’s Lord Quinn, if you please.”
“Quinn is fine,” he said stiffly, bowing to the chamberlain before turning to Grace and Leyna. “I thought you two would be here sooner. What took you so long?”
“A better question yet,” Leyna interjected, “is what summons was so urgent that you couldn’t wait for us at the Guild?”
Before Quinn could answer, a harsh voice barked across the hall.
“Quinn! Stop idling. The king is waiting!”
Quinn flinched at the sound of his father’s voice, who was standing near a set of grand doors that led to the Great Hall. The steward jabbed a finger in their direction.
“All three of you, here. Now.”
As Chamberlain Percy shepherded them towards the large doors, Leyna gulped. This was it—her big moment. Her chance to gain the favour of the king and make her family proud. She was grateful for the warmth of Grace’s hand as it slipped into hers, and she squeezed back, realising that, unlike her, Grace had a greater reason to be nervous; she hadn’t grown up with as fortunate circumstances, and though Leyna didn’t know much about her background, she knew that Grace’s parents weren’t wealthy. She made a mental note to ask Grace about her family later.
They entered the Great Hall, a vast rectangular room with a tall ceiling from which unlit chandeliers were suspended. Sun filtered into the dim room through windows set along the room’s long sides, and a tall set of doors led out to a balcony. The Great Hall was typically used for a range of activities, including dining and entertainment. More formal events such as hearings and trials were also held here, but Leyna best remembered the hall for its lavish balls and ceremonies.
Currently, however, it was in a state of disarray, with servants in the throes of decorating the hall for the farewell feast. Despite the noisy clatter of plates and cutlery, her focus was immediately drawn to the tall dais, a raised platform with steps that led up to the High Table. Rich blue-and-gold banners and fabrics hung on the wall, and there, sitting upon a large throne of gilded mahogany, was…
Leyna’s heart skipped a beat as the gleam of a gold crown caught her eye.
It was the king.
Chapter twelve
The Oath
It was over within minutes. Leyna was stunned as they left the Great Hall, feeling detached from her body. The king had looked older than she remembered him, his blond hair beginning to thin.
The ceremony had been disappointing. Over the years, she’d dreamt of the day she would finally pay homage to King Rutherford, and the details of this fantasy were ingrained in her mind. She would already be dressed in the huskarl uniform as she knelt before the king, and with the whole court watching, she would swear the Oath of Fealty.
In her most optimistic of fantasies, the king would be so impressed with her declarations of loyalty that he would not only confirm her titles as huskarl but would also request that she guard him personally from that day forth. Seeing His Majesty bestow his favour upon Leyna, the lords and ladies of the court would applaud with gusto, and when the ceremony was over, they would swarm around her, extending invitations and anxious to be her friend.
But that was a childish fantasy. The reality had been very different.
The chamberlain had ushered Leyna, Grace and Quinn into the Great Hall, which was devoid of an audience. There were no nobles to witness the ceremony, and even her parents were absent. If not for the commotion of the servants preparing for the feast, the Great Hall would have been deserted.
Everyone was busy getting ready for the king’s farewell feast that evening, and many of the nobles and servants were also packing for tomorrow’s journey. Even the king had only grudgingly made an appearance so that he could accept their homage. While not an impatient man, he drummed his fingers on the armrest of the throne, his vague expression suggesting he was miles away, preoccupied with other matters.
Leyna’s spirits lifted when she spotted Bancroft guarding the doors that exited the hall. She had not noticed him when she first entered, but was pleased to see him, and had to resist the urge to run over and hug him in the king’s presence.
In his fifties, Bancroft was a wizard in the Royal Guard, and while not of noble birth, his dapper appearance strongly suggested otherwise; he had a sturdy frame and held himself proudly, and was well-groomed with black hair oiled back and a neat thin moustache. Growing up, Bancroft had been like an uncle to her and was popular with everyone, always ready with a joke to lighten the mood. Just before Leyna turned back to the dais, he caught her eye and gave her a wink, his moustache twitching with a smile.
The only indication that the ceremony had started was when the king rose from the High Table. He walked around to the edge of the dais and descended the steps.
Grace was the first to give her oath. Kneeling before the king, her hands were clasped together and stretched out in front as she swore the Oath of Fealty, her voice ringing loud and clear:
“I promise on my faith that I will in the future be faithful to my king, never cause him harm, and will protect him and his subjects completely against all enemies in good faith and without deceit.”
Grace did well, given she had only memorised the oath on the journey here with Leyna’s help. The king, however, looked distracted as she spoke, his eyes following the servants as they moved furniture around. When Grace finished speaking, the king took her hand unceremoniously and announced his acceptance before releasing it again. Chamberlain Percy moved forward, holding a folded cloth of royal blue, the sight of which made Leyna’s eyes widen.
It was the Royal Guard’s banderole.
She couldn’t look away from the blue fabric, which shone like satin as Percy pinned one end to Grace’s shoulder and let the rest unfurl to the tiled floor, where it ended in a sharp cleft. The banderole’s edges were trimmed with gold, and it bore the Rutherford coat of arms.
Grace was now a huskarl of the Royal Guard.
“Lady Leyna, your turn,” smiled Percy, gesturing for her to approach the king.
Her body quivered with nerves as she walked forward to kneel before the king. As she lowered her body, her left calf spasmed in warning, causing her to wince. Hoping no one had noticed, she bowed her head and began to recite the oath. Her voice was strong, but in the middle of her delivery, a large table scraped loudly across the floor as it was dragged to a far wall, and the noise disrupted the dignity of the moment.
Worst of all, as she had tried to continue speaking, the king had surged to his feet and, addressing the servants moving the table, demanded to know why the feast tables were being moved away.
“The queen has ordered us to make room for dancing,” answered one servant.
“But it’s a feast!” complained the king. “A feast! What does dancing have to do with it? How on earth are we supposed to have a feast with no tables?”
With a sigh, he gestured for Leyna to continue.
But she had forgotten where she’d left off. Despite years of envisioning this moment, of lying awake in bed and reciting the oath silently so as not to disturb her dormmates, her mind drew a blank.
“Go on,” said the king impatiently. “Start again, if you must.”
But the command made her inability to recall the oath all the worse. Her face grew hot, her cloak stifling as it trapped in both her body heat and shame. As the seconds stretched on, she began to think it was a mercy that the court wasn’t assembled to see her make a fool of herself.
Leyna squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could disappear.
Suddenly, a soft voice whispered behind her:
“I promise…!”
Leyna didn’t have to turn to know it was Grace.
The prompt was what she'd needed to trigger her memory, and with a new burst of confidence, she was able to recite the oath perfectly, the words resonating in the hall. Head bowed, arms outstretched, she stared at the rug, waiting.
And then she’d felt it.
Her breathing stilled as she felt the touch of His Majesty’s hands on hers, and though the gesture was fleeting, the sensation lingered for minutes afterwards, echoing the monarch’s acknowledgement. When she was told to rise, it took her a moment to get to her feet, and not only because of the weakness in her leg—she couldn’t believe that it was over.
Is that it?
She didn’t even notice that the chamberlain had pinned the banderole to her shoulder until she’d returned to stand by Grace.
She’d missed it.
The moment she'd been dreaming of—the moment the banderole was pinned to her shoulder—had happened in the blink of an eye.
As Quinn moved to kneel before the king, she reached around with one hand to stroke the banderole. It felt foreign, the fabric cool and smooth. She had grown up admiring the huskarls who guarded the royal family, looking elegant in uniform with the banner draping down their backs.
It was dreamlike to realise that she was wearing one as well. It didn’t feel real. And it didn’t feel great. Instead, it felt like nothing…as if nothing had changed.
Exiting the Great Hall, Leyna was still dazed by the brevity of the ceremony. If she’d been expecting a moment of sudden insight or self-discovery, then this wasn’t it. The most real moment had been when Grace hugged her tightly, uncaring of whether it was a proper thing to do or not in front of the king, and Leyna hadn’t minded, and was half convinced the king was suppressing a small smile at the exchange.
Back in the Foyer, she let out a sigh of relief. Though the ceremony was anticlimactic, she was finally a huskarl of the Royal Guard, and perhaps once she had her uniform, she would feel that it was true.
I just wish my parents had been here, she thought sadly, but did not say the words out loud. Grace’s parents hadn’t been here either. As for Quinn, he was estranged from his mother, who lived in the Kingdom of Kormend, and though his father had been present, it was no secret that their relationship was strained.
“Leyna?”
Grace’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Are you alright?” she asked gently.
“I’m fine, thank you Grace. Excuse me a minute—”
She spotted the chamberlain leaving the Great Hall and hastened to him.
“Lord Chamberlain?”
“Huskarl Leyna,” he smiled, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “How may I help you? Congratulations on your huskarlship, by the way.”
“Thank you, sir. Actually, there’s something else I’d like to thank you for…”
“Oh?”
“I believe that it was thanks to you that the Guild allowed me to take the exam I missed—the viva voce. I wanted to thank you. I’m truly grateful.”
The chamberlain’s brow furrowed, his thin silvery eyebrows knitting together as he regarded her with bewilderment.
“That…that wasn’t you?” she asked.
Percy gave a quick shake of his head. “I’m afraid not, my lady—although I do wish I could take the credit. And, indeed, I’m pleased that you graduated and are here as one of our newest huskarls. But that kindness must have been rendered by someone else.”
“Oh, my apologies.” She shuffled her feet. “Do you know who did, er, render that kindness?”
The chamberlain shook his head, and she walked away feeling confused.
Could it simply have been Headmaster Emsworth taking pity on her? It was unlikely. Leyna had been at the Wizarding Guild for long enough to know there were very few exceptions for missing an exam—and a near-fatal injury was not one of them.
Bancroft tapped her on the shoulder and they exchanged a quick hug. She could tell that he resisted the urge to lift her up and spin her like he had when she was younger—which was probably for the best.
“Congratulations, kiddo.” He beamed. “I can’t stay long. The king won’t guard himself, will he? Just wanted to say hello. Are you coming to the feast tonight?”
“I suppose I am,” she said.
“Perfect. It’ll be a good chance for you to meet some of the huskarls before they leave tomorrow—most of them are leaving with the court.”
“What about you?” she asked. “Are you leaving tomorrow?”
She must have looked worried, because Bancroft laughed and clapped her on the back.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. There’ll be plenty of time to catch up this week—can’t wait to see your stuff in the training ring. Anyway, I’ll see you tonight!”
Leyna made her way back to Grace but was intercepted by the jester.
“Hello again, Huskarl Leyna,” he said, putting emphasis on her title. “I hear congratulations are in order?”
“What are you doing here?” she said, startled to see him here. None of the other performers were in the Foyer, and she was surprised that he’d been granted access inside so quickly.
“Why, I’ve come to bask in your shining success,” he mused. “Was the ceremony everything you had dreamt it would be?”
