The Red King [Book II]

XXXVII

James was escorted to a bathroom. Upon leaving, the number of guards had doubled. They stared at him, anticipatory, and James's lip twitched wryly.

ㅤHe looped the same corridors, contemplating how to slip their filthy stalking, when he crossed King William. The pair nodded to one another before a hand brushed his bicep.

ㅤ"Harrison means to speak to you."

ㅤJames stopped. William's eyes were crinkled kindly, even though the wrinkles webbed from a cold, calculated blue.

ㅤHe smiled as though he weren't dreading the conversation. "Harrison knows where I am."

ㅤ"It will remain that way, I'm sure."

ㅤJames' nose tipped up in silent challenge. And after a long, quiet stare, William's jewellery clattered with a shrug.

ㅤ"I wish you good health," William parted, and his blue cloak billowed with his sharp turn away. Some guards broke off to him, leaving James' surveillance thinner.

ㅤHe contemplated the ones that remained. "Run me a bath. I want perfumes and I need to re-oil."

ㅤThis didn't amuse them. "Your Majesty, you will be bathing in a private audience with King Maurice later, as I understand it."

ㅤ"Yes," he sniffed. "I want to be clean for our bath later. Obviously."

ㅤWearily, they shared a look before bowing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

ㅤ"I want it heated. I'll be in my room when it's ready."

ㅤ"Of course, Sire."

ㅤOnly one remained, standing beside his shadow, his gaze keen. James changed direction.

ㅤ"Your armour is shiny," he complimented the guard. "Do you polish it yourself?"

ㅤ"Yes, Your Majesty."

ㅤJames hummed, gazing out at the cloud-bloated sky, darkness casting upon them. A storm approached. "What type of grease makes it that dark colour?"

ㅤ"Your Majesty, your room is in the other direction, if I may guide you."

ㅤ"Oh," James said. He continued, flitting open a nearby door to inspect within. He peered around corners as he walked.

ㅤThe guard stepped into his path. "Your Majesty."

ㅤ"You look as if you're about to faint."

ㅤHe blinked. "...Pardon, Your Majesty?"

ㅤJames struck the man's throat. The fleshy hit echoed through his esophagus, hands flying to his neck. Before he could recover, James drove his rebounding head into the wall with a meaty thud. The guard folded to the floor.

ㅤHe wasted no time pouncing down the servant staircase, retracting mischievous steps he must've trodden as a child, instinct guiding him past flustered footmen and maids and beyond a kitchen no noble should ever see.