He fell in step at my side as we crossed the expansive courtyard. “But the funeral —”
“Is nothing but good theater for nobles unable to love anything but their own reflections.”
“It’s not my business to tell the king how he should behave at his own father’s funeral, but —”
“You’re quite right, Gregor. It isn’t your business.”
Beside me, I could feel his temper boil, but in a carefully controlled voice he said, “What did Vargan mean about giving him no reason to invade?”
“He made me an offer. In exchange for a promise of peace, he wants some of our land.”
“A heavy request. But it always worked for your father.”
“It does not work for me. We will defend the borders of this country!”
“With what army? Your Majesty has sent nearly every man that could be spared down to Falstan Lake, for no other apparent reason but to take earth from one area and leave it in another. It’s a waste of manpower and an unnecessary decision.”
Actually, it was a tactical decision for a fallback plan if war did come to Carthya. I had wanted to share the plan with Gregor and my regents, but Kerwyn had cautioned me against it. The regents already questioned my competence as king. Kerwyn felt this would only reinforce their doubts.
“Bring the men back to Drylliad,” Gregor said. “I need them here.”
“Why? To shine their shoes and march in formation? What good is that to anyone?”
“Respectfully, sire, if we’re asking questions, then I might wonder why you’re wearing a vigil’s cloak, and why you’re hiding your arm.”
I stopped walking and faced him, but huffed extra loudly to be sure he heard me. Then, with some reluctance, I unfolded the cloak so he could see my bandaged arm. Most of my sleeve below the bandage was colored by blood that had soaked into the wet fabric.
At the sight of it, the muscles on Gregor’s face tightened. Still staring, he said, “You were attacked.”
Another brilliant deduction from the captain of my guard. Even through Imogen’s bandage, the wound’s exposure to air sharpened the sting, so I covered it again.
“Two pirates got inside the castle walls,” I explained. “Vargan must have helped them somehow.”
“Do you know this for a fact?”
“Yes.”
“And you have proof?”
“Well . . . no.”
Only thinly concealing his disgust, he said, “Your Majesty, what if this whole idea of war is just in your head? Maybe Vargan isn’t behind tonight’s attack, but you see it that way because you’ve already decided he might invade.”
“He is going to invade!” Gregor shifted his eyes from me, but I continued anyway. “They want our land, our resources. They will take all that we have and destroy all that we are.”
“We’ve had years of peace, sire. Your return home shouldn’t change anything.”
“Of course it changes things. Four years ago, my father let everyone believe I died in a pirate attack. Now that I’ve returned, these countries will consider my father’s lies to them a grave insult. There are consequences for my coming to the throne, and we have to deal with them.”
Gregor had pursed his lips while I spoke, but now he answered, “If you were older, you could order the soldiers to war right now, and I would lead them. But until you’re of age, you must accept that there are some actions you cannot take without the support of the regents. And if you will forgive me for speaking so boldly, the decision to give you the throne last month, rather than considering a steward, was granted too quickly and only in the enthusiasm of the moment. They should have welcomed you home as a prince and then given you time to adjust before putting the whole weight of the kingdom on you.”
“But they did,” I said. “And with your help, I can defend this country.”
His eyes narrowed. “You do not yet have the hearts of your people, or your regents. Nobody will follow you into a war based on your instinct. You need proof. Were these assassins captured?”
“They were messengers, not assassins.” At least, not yet.
“What was the message?”