Chapter 12: Prince Aaron
"You're not going inside with those weapons," Fáfnir said at the castle gate. "Leave them with the guards."
We didn't protest.
Not because we trusted them.
Because we were exhausted and outnumbered, and even Rowanda knew when pride was expensive.
Rowanda handed over her sword.
Obara surrendered her knives.
I handed over my blade.
Then reached into my boot for my knife.
Obara's eyes widened.
"How do you keep doing that?" she hissed. "I swear I stole that knife this morning and you've already stolen it back!"
"Not now, Obara," Rowanda snapped.
I gave Obara a wicked smile anyway.
Fáfnir led us into a dining room.
A long table waited, piled with food we'd been dreaming about for weeks.
Meat. Bread that didn't crack your teeth. Fruit that wasn't bruised. Cheese that wasn't stolen hard. Warm soup that smelled like someone cared.
Two people sat at the far end.
A man with a golden crown.
A woman with a silver one.
The man stood as if he'd been waiting for this moment his whole life.
"Oh dear," he said warmly. "They're here! Please sit. Make yourselves comfortable."
He gestured like we were guests, not fugitives.
"I am Prince Aaron."
No one spoke.
We sat down and ate like starving animals pretending to be polite.
After a while, the Prince looked at Rowanda.
"You must be Rowanda of Ilana," he said. "I met your father once. I asked for your hand in marriage."
Rowanda didn't react.
The Prince chuckled. "But you were too young then."
Then he turned to Obara.
"And you must be the legendary Obara, the thieving wretch. I should watch my crown and jewellery."
Obara smiled without warmth.
Finally he looked at me.
"And you…" the Prince said. "To be honest, I don't know you, young man. But I have no doubt you might be useful."
My pride flared.
"What?" I snapped. "Nobody is talking about me? I killed the biggest man in that fighting pit. I've been killing bounty hunters sent our way."
The Prince shrugged. "Dead men tell no tales."
"Well what about my metalwork?" I said, anger climbing. "I'm the best blacksmith in Ilana!"
The Prince's eyes slid over me lazily.
"This is not Ilana. And I've never seen a blacksmith so skinny."
I pulled my knife and threw it at his chicken.
The knife pinned the meat cleanly to the plate.
The Prince flinched so hard he nearly fell from his chair. Guards moved instantly, hands on hilts.
"Your grace!" one guard barked. "Is there a problem?"
"No," the Prince said quickly, straightening himself. "No problem. Out."
The guards obeyed, but they didn't look happy about it.
The Prince plucked my knife from the chicken and examined it.
Rainbow sheen.
Patterned metal.
He stabbed it into the wooden table and felt the bite.
"What kind of metal is this?" he asked, suddenly serious. "And you forged it?"
"Yes," I said, chewing. "With my scrawny little hands. Titanium and mokume gane."
Obara leaned in. "Didn't you give that knife to the guards?"
Rowanda slammed her fist on the table.
"You two shut it."
Then she looked at the Prince like she wanted to eat him next.
"We are fed," she said. "We are watered. What do you want?"
"Straight to business," the Prince said, wiping his mouth with the tablecloth like it was his job to offend everyone in the room. "I like it."
His smile thinned.
"A month ago, an elf sneaked into my castle and ran off with my daughter."
Obara stopped chewing.
Rowanda's eyes sharpened.
The Prince continued.
"They've been secretly seeing each other for a year. I thought it would pass. It didn't. They plan to marry soon."
He leaned forward.
"I can't allow it. She is betrothed to the king's eldest son."
My eyebrows rose. "Your nephew?"
The Prince ignored me.
"If she marries the elf, it could start a war. I want you to go to the High Forests, kill the elf, and bring my daughter back."
Silence.
Rowanda didn't speak.
Obara didn't speak.
So of course, I did.
"Wait," I said. "Isn't that incest?"
The Prince's eyes turned dangerous.
Rowanda answered before the Prince could.
"Because the elves have an army," Rowanda said. "And whoever took your daughter is either their leader, or their leader's son."
The Prince smiled again. "Yes. Exactly."
Then his smile vanished.
"Will you do it," he asked softly, "or should I send you to the King?"
Obara exhaled. "Not much of a choice."
Rowanda's jaw tightened. "We'll do it."
I pointed my spoon at the Prince. "We're getting paid."
Prince Aaron waved a hand. "A ship. Safe passage out. You succeed, and you'll be taken back toward Hekhenden."
"Whatever," I muttered. "Where are these High Forests?"