A Touch of Death

Chapter 5

The Grand Enchanter stepped forward, cocking his head to the side as he gazed at her. Or, she presumed he was looking her way. The king gave an uneasy glance towards the Enchanter.

"And... why is that?" he asked carefully. The Grand Enchanter stood as still as a statue, never turning to look towards King Tristan when he responded.

"Need I remind Your Majesty how many debts and favors the crown has called in over the years?" he asked softly, with the air of a man who knew exactly how much power he held. "It's more than I've ever owed." The crowd would not be able to hear him, but it was audible to Aoife, who stood only paces away.

The King blanched. Aoife's body tensed in anticipation. It would be difficult to deny him a public request, even in the face of someone accused of trespassing and assault. The Captain glared, attempting to argue.

"But this woman—"

"Defended herself from an assault," the Grand Enchanter finished. "I believe that's an admirable quality, wouldn't you say? Would you mind removing your gloves, miss...?" he paused, clearly waiting for her name, but Aoife removed her gloves without speaking. She didn't want to draw any more attention... if that was even possible at this point.

Dark purple bruises marred her wrists where Eric's hands gripped too tightly. The gasps of the crowd clearly meant that these were working in her favor, though she didn't leave the gloves off for long enough for them to stare. The Captain stepped forward once more.

"This woman ran from arrest—"

"Because she was frightened, as I'm sure she is now."

"Assaulted a man—"

"A drunk man who overpowered and hit her," the Enchanter pointed out. "Go on, take a whiff; I can smell the alcohol from here."

That much was certainly true, and no one on stage could deny it. Erik opened his mouth, possibly to insist upon his sobriety, but it was a useless battle. One look from the Enchanter, and he very quietly backed away, eyes fixed on the wooden floor of the stage.

"She's still guilty of trespassing, likely with criminal intent!" the Captain cried. Aoife couldn't blame his desperation. His credibility was on the line, and this was a public commotion.

It seemed he stood no chance against both the prince and the Grand Enchanter, though.

"She's guilty of being lost and tripping into some rose bushes," the Enchanter scoffed. "Hardly a capital offense."

The Grand Enchanter countered every point the Captain attempted to make like an expert swordsman parrying blows. There was electricity in the air between the two figures. The Grand Enchanter was like ice—solid, cool, composed, and unmoving. The Captain's fiery range, barely concealed or controlled, made a stark contrast. The tension was nearly palpable, the crowd leaning in to see what would happen next. However, before an outright verbal sparring match could ensue, the King decided to intervene.

"Take her," the King said with a sigh, waving his hand.

The Captain appeared on the verge of exploding. There was no questioning the decision of the King, though.

"Come with me," the Grand Enchanter said softly, motioning with his staff. Aoife thought it was strange how he didn't seem to try and touch her, but she didn't have time to dwell on it. The King, looking supremely exasperated, nodded for Aoife to follow.

The path the Grand Enchanter went down wound behind the viewing platform, but around the side of the large palace gates. Behind her, she could hear music and chatter slowly starting up again. The festival continued without her, and it was better that way. With luck, the entire disturbance would be mostly forgotten by the end of the day. Cloaked in shadow from the large trees, they walked slowly towards a section of the ironwork that was nearly hidden by green bushes. The thought crossed Aoife's mind that this must be the outskirts of the garden's legendary hedge maze, but she didn't have time to ask before he reached into the bushes. There was a dull clinking sound, and then a section of the ironwork swung open.