The Amulet Of Nicmir (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 1)

Chapter 12

Kiro pushed the tavern door open, avoiding stumbling men with tankards in their drunken clutches as he stalked out into the crowded street. The sunlight was a sharp contrast to the murky, stinking room he'd just left, and he squinted, bringing his hand to his forehead as a visor.

He'd only had a small glass of ale before he realized that alcohol wouldn't help his situation even temporarily. He'd end up making a fool of himself, and wake up with a wicked hangover. It'd happened once before, and he felt no desire to repeat the event.

But all that didn't change the fact that he needed to get his mind off Kariana. She was beyond frustrating at times. Yet he still loved her.

His aimless wandering somehow brought him to stand before the turreted castle wall. It stretched skyward, an impenetrable stone barrier, ten feet thick and fifty tall, seemingly unbreakable. But Kiro, with all of his training and experience, knew that a good trebuchet could bring it down with ease.

Guards patrolled tirelessly in groups of four, the quartets only separated by fifteen feet, twenty at most. The place was secure to such a point that anyone might label it as paranoia. Kiro knew better.

Letting out a growled sigh, he stalked through the gate and into the outer courtyard. There were innumerable peasants on the main walk, their heads ducked, holding their baskets and loads close. Kiro set his jaw as he observed them. This constant, unrelenting fear that hovered over the people of the realm like a cloud was his father's handiwork, and it was only one of many reasons Kiro hated him with a burning passion. A king should be the one to set fears at ease, not arouse them.

He felt someone shove him from behind, and whirled, fire in his eyes. His gaze softened when they landed on an elderly woman, a basket of onions in her frail grasp. When she saw his face, she dropped her burden with a cry and bowed low.

"I apologize, my lord! Please, have mercy!" she exclaimed.

Kiro gently gripped her trembling arms and pulled her up, but she kept her head down, not meeting his gaze.

"Look at me," he commanded softly. She slowly raised her head, surprise in her pale eyes. Kiro released her arms and bent to pick up her basket, anchoring it under his arm and retrieving the onions that had fallen. When he straightened, he nearly laughed at the expression on the woman's face. Her mouth hung open in shock, and the fear from before was gone, replaced by confusion. It saddened him that she was surprised by simple chivalry from her monarch's son.

"I am not my father," he said, his voice firm and steady.

"Bless you, my prince," she murmured, reaching for her basket. He held it fast.

"Where are you taking these, my good woman?" he inquired softly.

"The market, my prince," she replied, surprise registering on her face again. "Why do you ask?"

"Would it be too much to inquire if I might accompany you, and carry your basket?" Kiro asked.

"A-as you wish, my lord," the woman stuttered.

A half hour later, Kiro was marching through the halls of the castle, and the woman was happily on her way home with good money in her pocket in return for the onions.

Kiro hardly noticed the few servants he brushed past, the sunlight of early evening streaming through the windows, painting the floor golden, or the gloriously fresh early evening air. He had one person in mind that he wanted to see, and the thought of them dominated above all others. No, not one person. One woman.

When he didn't find her in the servants' quarters, he made his way through the labyrinth of hallways to his own rooms, but found them empty as well. Assuming she was still on her rounds to help collect the laundry, he wandered the halls, hoping to catch sight of her on her way out of a room.