The Lady Knight

Chapter XXII: Pursuits and Prowls

Prince Nicholas

"You see, Your Royal Highness," Carl was telling me, "the most effective way to disarm your opponent is to – Your Royal Highness? What is the matter?" He stopped, glancing at my expression.

A sudden sense of foreboding overcame me all of a sudden, as chills ran down my spine in an endless flow. It rid my mind of all thoughts, until all I could concentrate on was that strange sensation.

"Nothing," I shook my head, bewildered, "I merely feel as if...something bad is going to happen soon."

He nodded, understanding. "They call it the sixth sense, Your Royal Highness," he explained, "but it could be plain nerves as well." He shot me a smile.

"Mayhap," I was still puzzled. Nerves for what, I wondered.

"Well, worry about it no more, Your Royal Highness," he assured me, "because we have arrived at the dining hall."

He gestured grandly to the dining hall before us, where the Ladies of Cavarriere, the Duke and Duchess were already taking their places at the table.

Once again, I felt as if something was gravely amiss.

"Come, Sire, let us go," Carl beckoned me forward, as he eagerly took a seat next to Lady Annabelle, who was recovering very well from the illness that had bedridden her a few days ago.

She shot me a kind smile, which I returned briefly, and I looked around the rest of the room, as the strange feeling still persisted in the very pit of my stomach. It was then that I realised.

Julie was not here. Again.

And neither were her Captains.

"Lord Cavarriere, where are the Captains?" I questioned curiously, as I sat down beside him.

"Why, they dined early, before the rest of us," he grinned, as the first dish of dinner was served, "they were especially hungry tonight, and my wife did not like to keep them waiting until our usual dinner time, looking at their tired faces."

I returned his smile but said nothing. In Tessensohn, the Captains used to dine earlier than the usual time, so that they could avoid the Tessensohn family.

Why, Captain Morrison had even confided in me once that this was their way of avoiding anyone whom they did not want to meet at the dinner table, be it their strict superiors or someone they did not like.

My forehead creased in worry. Who were they avoiding today?

"And how about Julie?" I found that I was anxious to hear the answer.

Lord Cavarriere paused, pondering. "I am afraid I do not know, son," he admitted, "I will ask my daughter and her friends."

With that, he raised his voice to address those at the table. "Ladies, do any of you know where Jules is? Has she had her dinner beforehand?"

The light-hearted chatter at the table ceased, as the Ladies of Cavarriere exchanged mystified looks. One Lady in particular, however, remained suspiciously reserved.

And that was Lady Camille.

"Nay, Your Grace, she has yet to dine," Lady Marguerite frowned, "why, she was pacing outside her study, holding a strange sack merely an hour ago."

However, I was staring straight at Lady Camille, who was shifting uneasily in her seat. "You know something, my Lady," I narrowed my eyes at her.

All of a sudden, ten pairs of worried eyes were directed to her, but she kept her mouth firmly shut.