The Sea Siren

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Antony

Deep into the hustling streets of the kingdom, the labyrinth of cobblestone pathways become smaller, less maintained. It's here where the working-class dwell, where I spent a good deal of my youth causing trouble.

Without my usual detail breathing down my neck, my cloak camouflages me into the masses. I left at dawn before the members of court had risen to ensure my privacy. Father is doing his damnedest to keep me within the palace's walls.

It's understandable considering the last time I left, I didn't return.

But the business I need to see to is not something a duke or even a representative of the privy council can help me with. Trust cannot be found in court.

Behind the drinking well stands a building I've been meaning to visit since the end of the war. Laying eyes upon it now, taking in the broken windows and doors, walking in and seeing mold on the painted walls and a sleeping man on the cold stairs, dejection arises within me.

I bend down beside the person, unfastening the knot of my cloak, who flinches back in shock when I drape the heavy material over them. The constituents of Vale know who I am and I watch his eyes register my face. He surges up in reaction but my hand on his shoulder stops him.

"I'm looking for a man named Callum," I say calmly.

"Callum? He... he lives upstairs, Highness. Last door on the left."

I nod, straightening, removing my gloves. "Do you have a home?"

The man, who looks to be a few years younger than me, shakes his head.

"What is your name?"

"Gibson."

I hand off the gloves as well. "Gibson, come to the palace in the morning if you desire work and shelter."

He blinks, silent for a few moments. "Work in the palace?"

"Yes. I'm assembling a guard."

He stands up, eyes wide, mouth open. "Highness—"

"If you have no combat training, you'll learn. I'll tell you now—it won't be for the faint of heart."

He bows, grabbing my hand, pressing his head to it—a gesture of respect. His fingers are like ice. "I... I am honored. I don't understand... how you are here, why I have been chosen."

The answer comes effortless to me. "No one should be left in the cold."

He stares at me, appearing shocked to receive a kind thought, reminding me of the harsh reality I have been spared of. I very easily could have been in this boy's place if my father hadn't recognized me as his son, hadn't taken me in and cared for me.

"I'll make sure the steward knows you are coming." Starting up the stairs, I point at the cloak and gloves. "Wear those. There's a chill tonight."

Reaching the top of the stairs, I brace myself as I walk to the last door on the left, taking a deep breath before knocking. Although I came out all this way, I spent most of the time convincing myself Callum would ignore the knocks as he has my letters.

But the door opens and my friend stands in the threshold, looking entirely stunned to find me there. He hasn't aged a day—the same dark eyes and twisted locks stretching just past his shoulders.

"Antony..."

I grin. "Callum."

He drops his cane and pulls me into him, pounding on my back. "You damn bastard, I thought you were dead. The entire kingdom did."