The Capital. The Great Hall. Evening.
The gala was the King's idea.
"The people need to see that the kingdom is still strong," he had said. "They need to see their leaders, their heroes, their future. They need to believe that everything will be all right."
Edward had not argued. He had put on his finest clothes, pinned his medals to his chest, and prepared to smile for hours.
Gwen stood beside him, her hand on her sword, her eyes on the crowd. She had been quiet all evening, watching, waiting.
"You're not enjoying this," Edward said.
She glanced at him. "Neither are you."
He almost smiled. Almost. "I'm pretending."
"Then you're better at it than I am."
---
The great hall was crowded.
Nobles in silk and velvet, merchants in fine wool, mages in robes of blue and gray. They mingled, talked, laughed, pretending that nothing was wrong. The food was rich, the wine was abundant, the music was light.
Edward moved through the crowd, shaking hands, exchanging pleasantries. He had learned to do this—to smile when he wanted to scowl, to listen when he wanted to leave, to remember names when he wanted to forget them.
Gwen stayed close, her hand on her sword, her eyes on the crowd. She was not there to enjoy herself. She was there to protect him.
"You don't have to hover," Edward said quietly.
Gwen raised an eyebrow. "I'm not hovering. I'm observing."
"Observing what?"
"The crowd. The exits. The people who look like they might try to kill you."
Edward glanced at her. "Do you see any?"
She scanned the room. "Not yet. But the night is young."
---
The mages approached first.
Aldus led them, his robes formal, his face lined with concern. He bowed to Edward, then to Gwen.
"Your Highness," he said. "I wanted to thank you for speaking with the King. About the guild."
Edward nodded. "The proposal is still being drafted."
Aldus nodded. "I understand. But I wanted you to know—the mages support it. We need trained warriors to help us study the monsters, to protect our researchers, to keep the roads safe from creatures."
Edward met his eyes. "The guild won't be yours to command."
Aldus raised a hand. "I know. But we'll work together. That's enough."
One of the younger mages stepped forward. A woman, her robe new, her eyes bright. "The creatures are fascinating," she said. "The way they produce mana, the way their bodies adapt to different environments. If we could study them safely—"
"You'd need protection," Edward finished.
She nodded. "Yes."
Edward looked at Aldus. "Then the guild will provide it."
---
The merchants approached next.
The gray-haired woman from the meeting—her name was Rosalia, Edward had learned—led them. She curtsied, her face serious, her voice steady.
"Your Highness," she said. "We've heard rumors about the guild. About your proposal."
Edward nodded. "The King is considering it."
Rosalia leaned forward. "The merchants will support it. We'll fund it. We'll provide contracts, resources, whatever is needed." She paused. "We need protection from the monsters. The guild could provide it."
Edward met her eyes. "The guild will answer to the crown."
Rosalia nodded. "As long as it answers to someone."
A merchant behind her spoke up. A man, young, his clothes expensive, his face pale. "The creatures are getting bolder. They attacked a village near my lands last week. Killed a dozen people. The army couldn't get there in time."
Edward was quiet for a moment. "I know."
The man's voice was tight. "What are we supposed to do? Just wait for the next attack?"
Edward met his eyes. "No. That's why we're creating the guild."
---
The nobles approached last.
They circled Edward like sharks, their smiles bright, their eyes sharp. They wanted to know about the guild—about who would lead it, who would control it, who would profit from it.
Edward answered their questions calmly, carefully, revealing nothing. The guild was the King's idea. The details were still being finalized. The crown would retain control.
The nobles were not satisfied. But they were patient.
One of them—a woman, older, her jewelry heavy, her voice smooth—stepped closer. "And what about the Vargr? The monsters are one problem. The Vargr are another."
Edward nodded. "The army is handling the Vargr."
"The army is stretched thin."
"I know."
The woman tilted her head. "Then perhaps the guild could help with the Vargr as well?"
Edward was quiet for a moment. "The guild's focus will be the monsters. The creatures. The things that came through the portal." He paused. "The Vargr are a different problem."
The woman's smile tightened. "For now."
---
Edward excused himself. Walked to the window. Looked out at the city below.
The lights were bright, the streets were crowded, the people were living their lives. They didn't know about the meetings, the proposals, the arguments. They didn't know about the monsters breeding in the hills, the creatures spreading through the forests, the mana seeping into the soil and water and air.
They just knew they were afraid.
Gwen joined him at the window.
"The nobles are circling," she said.
Edward nodded. "They always do."
"Do you trust them?"
Edward was quiet for a moment. "No."
"Then why are you giving them what they want?"
Edward turned. "Because the kingdom needs this. The roads aren't safe. The monsters are spreading. The creatures are everywhere. The army is stretched thin." He paused. "We need a solution."
Gwen studied him. "And the guild is that solution?"
Edward met her eyes. "It's a start."
---
The gala ended at midnight.
The nobles departed, the merchants dispersed, the mages retreated to their tower. Edward stood alone in the great hall, his back straight, his face calm. He was tired—exhausted—but he didn't show it.
Gwen walked to stand beside him.
"You did well," she said.
Edward looked at her. "Did I?"
She nodded. "You listened. You answered. You didn't give them more than they needed."
Edward was quiet for a moment. "I learned from watching my father."
Gwen raised an eyebrow. "The King?"
Edward nodded. "Yes. The King."
Gwen was silent for a moment. "He must be proud of you."
Edward looked at the empty hall. The servants were clearing the tables, extinguishing the candles, preparing for the next day. The music had stopped. The laughter had faded.
"I hope so," he said.