The King's Gauntlet

The Temple

The King's Gauntlets fanned out through the rocky landscape around us, their crimson cloaks soaked from the drizzle. I watched them, so curious that I stumbled as I strode across a patch of mud. I would have fallen if Ambassador Jamson hadn't caught my arm.

"It's this damn dress," I muttered before I could think about my 'foul language,' and before I noticed the dark gleam in his eye. It wasn't lust—the Ambassador had proposed marriage, but it was to his son—unless one counted a lust for power.

Ambassador Jamson chuckled, a sound without genuine emotion. "I told your noble father that this was no place for a girl child. His Gauntlets cut down the remaining Khall cultists, to be sure, but this is not an occasion for a family outing." Cold eyes regarded me with all the concern of a serpent. "Paul would be distraught if anything were to happen to you."

I grimaced and pulled my arm away, heedless of the effect it might have on him. Paul Jamson, son of the Rosvene Ambassador, was going to be distraught one way or the other. At least, if I had any say in it, because I had no intention of marrying him. We were both just fourteen, anyway, and even if my father the King was in a hurry to secure an alliance I should at least still have a good five years of independence...

Or so I hoped.

"Do you think there might be any cultists left?" Kaley asked, her eyes bright and expression always so upbeat and eager. It helped calm my turbulent mood, as it usually did, and I felt a wave of gratitude that my parents had allowed my best friend to accompany me on this 'family outing.' Even if they couldn't avoid bringing along the Rosvene Ambassador as well.

"The Gauntlets don't think so," I said, hurrying up my pace to leave Ambassador Jamson behind. I clutched my ostentatious skirts and held them up to avoid dirtying the hem. I hated dresses, but there was no way of avoiding it on formal outings like today. "I wouldn't bet against them," I added. "Did you know only last year they rescued twelve captive burghers from the Cut-throat Queen? No casualties. In and out in ten minutes."

"Of course I know," Kaley replied, rolling her eyes. "You never shut up about them."

I felt my face reddening and stared straight ahead. That didn't help matters. Baroness Evelyn von Opfen had led the expedition to plumb the depths of this ancient temple, after all, braving cultists and the elements in one of her many scientific endeavors. She'd come from a burgher family and gained a noble title after discovering a massive titanium deposit, establishing a reputation as an explorer of some renown.

She also, I noticed, wore pants. And for a woman well into her thirties, did she ever look good in them...

I blinked and glanced away.

I'd been having those thoughts again lately. For someone duty-bound to continue the family dynasty, it was... troublesome.

"Just over here, your Majesty!" Baroness von Opfen called out, pausing beside the ruined entrance. A gloved hand traced the obsidian-black material, which flashed into glowing aquamarine lettering. "As you can see, the ancient markings are vibrant as ever."

"Well done!" my father, King Aquilus II said, puffing slightly as he picked his way through the rain-slick rocks. He ignored the offered arm of one of his Gauntlets. My father was a proud man, and despite years of an increasing waistline he still fancied himself an adventurer. Hammer of Aland, they still called him, after he'd ended the piracy that haunted our shores, charging from ship to ship like a man possessed. That had been nearly three decades ago, and yet his eyes gleamed in a way I hadn't seen in years. Normally I'd see him late in the evening in his study, nodding off as he went through the kingdom's reports, with only a few half-hearted attempts at conversation if he noticed my presence.