The King's Messenger

Chapter 17

They certainly turned heads from the patrons and staff as they entered, disheveled and covered in grit and blood. At least, Eden was partially covered in blood. The others hadn't shared his misfortune with the shrapnel; his own creation had bit him, it seemed.

The host rushed over as they entered, features disgusted and mouth ready to demand their prompt exit, when his eyes lighted on Torre's uniform. The royal guard's emblem was unmistakable, and his eyes bulged as his expression changed to one more sourly welcoming.

"Welcome to The Boar, gentlemen," he said, eyeing Eden's wound and looking between Adrian and Torre, not sure which one was in charge. "How may I be of service?"

"Table for three, please, and whatever you have for breakfast," Eden said, stepping forward.

The host hesitated, waiting for someone else's confirmation or denial, which never arrived. "Of course. Follow me, please." Of course he'd assume that Eden wasn't in charge. He looked like a foreigner, and he certainly hadn't been in Valina long enough to be recognized- especially not when in simple, torn riding clothes and leaking blood.

"Here you are," the host said, gesturing toward an open table. "I'll be back with your food momentarily."

"A spare napkin, too, if you would," Eden added. "We'll pay for it, if necessary."

"Of course." The host walked away, throwing backward glances to match the rest of the staff and patrons' questioning stares.

Once he was gone, Torre leaned in. "We have to get back to the palace soon, Your Highness. We shouldn't stay long."

"To the contrary," Eden dismissed. "I rather hoped we would. I haven't finished discussing with Adrian, here."

Adrian glared at him incredulously. "Prince Eden, you're bleeding," he emphasized, as though Eden hadn't already noticed. Which he certainly had, and more so now that the adrenaline was wearing off; it was starting to hurt like a son of a bitch, but it wasn't too threatening.

"It'll be fine. You're fine, I take it? And you, Captain?"

They both gave their assent, then they all watched silently as a waiter brought breakfast and a spare cloth napkin, as requested.

"You have some medical training, I assume? Could you help me with this?" Eden asked Torre, holding up his arm.

Torre scowled. "I can bandage it, Your Highness, but you need to see a physician."

Eden held out his arm for Torre. "Just hear me out first. Do you figure those assassins will report back to whoever hired them right now, or will they wait?"

Adrian frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The way I see it, the only people who knew about our excursion today would be you, me, any servants who overheard us making the arrangement, and anybody they told. And perhaps your father. Now, I don't think you or your father would have called this; if not for my block, there'd be a crossbow bolt in you right now. So, somehow, word spread throughout the palace that we'd be going out, and someone hired assassins to take me out, and you two by extension," Eden explained. "The question is, how long will we have before whoever hired them finds out we lived? Or, even better, will they lie to their employer to get paid and disappear before he can retaliate?"

"I wouldn't exactly discount my father as the perpetrator for that," Adrian muttered under his breath.

Captain Torre frowned. "I suppose it's possible that they lie. And men like those can't easily get through the city, much less the palace, looking like that. It would be difficult for them to make contact with the palace at this hour."