The Rogue Guardian

Chapter 39: A Royal Encounter

Everyone admire our new cover with the correct new title on it! And in the media is our old cover for nostalgia or something.

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Nemia and Irina walked in silence deeper into the gardens. There weren't many people wandering around, which was ideal for Irina's plans. But they weren't alone. They emerged from the sheltered, leafy walking path to find the white stone patio where several picnic tables were arranged for nobles who wished to eat outside, shaded by tall and brilliantly green trees. One table was spread with the food Irina had ordered for her and Nemia. The other was empty but for the princess, her tutor, and the mindful presence of her guards standing rigidly around the outskirts of the patio.

Irina smothered her instinct to smile, forcing instead a look of mild surprise. "I thought we'd be the only ones here. I suppose I must have forgotten to see if anyone else reserved a table." She had not forgotten.

Nemia blinked as if she hadn't noticed the other occupants before Irina had spoken, then eyed them warily.

Irina hurried on, pretending not to have noticed the other girl's discomfort. "Well, feel free to sit down, I got--" Her hasty steps toward their table slipped on the stones of the patio and she toppled forward with a loud gasp.

Two of the nearest guards jumped and rushed toward her but she regained her balance quickly and waved them off with a small laugh. "Silly me!"

Nemia, who she noticed hadn't made any move toward her, frowned.

Perhaps she was being too dramatic. Still, it worked on one end. Magali had turned around to see what had happened, and upon meeting Irina's eyes politeness dictated she had to greet her. Sweeping her skirts around, she stood up and nodded to Irina's curtsey, blushing slightly as if she was the one who had tripped. "Irina."

"Your Highness."

There was an awkward pause as Nemia remained frozen in place. Magali glanced at her and looked quickly away, more embarrassed than before. That would make things harder, Irina noted, but she'd planned on the difficulty of both the princess's and the assassin's shyness.

"I'm sorry to intrude on you, Your Highness. Nemia and I were just going to take lunch here, but--"

"No, please, stay. It's not a problem."

Easy enough. The hard part was getting invited to sit at the same table as the princess. As it turned out, Nemia actually proved to be an advantage in this case, by doing what she did best-- silently staring. In this case, at Caer.

A 'thank you' on the tip of her tongue, both Irina and Magali's attentions were drawn to Nemia's obvious, wide-eyed stare aimed just over the princess's shoulder. Caer shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Oh," said Magali in a desperate tone, clearly wanting to disperse the tension Nemia so effortlessly and unintentionally brought wherever she went. "Do you want to sit with us?"

The guard closest to them flinched and threw a panicked look to the long-haired young man who must have been the highest ranked of them, standing stiff as a statue on the other side of the patio. There was no spoken response, but with hardly a sound the guards stationed loosely around them closed in by a foot or two. Nemia lowered her gaze to the ground with shattering intensity.

Irina felt an uncertain, fluttery feeling in her chest in response. Guilt, probably. How horrible it must be to have guards stand alert whenever you entered a room-- and Irina had dragged her into this. For her own good, Irina reminded herself, and for the good of the Inigrit.