“Was there anything else, Your Highness?” Heath asked, when the prince made no reply.
Shaking his head, Prince Lachlan dismissed Heath, only to check him as he reached the doorway.
“Do you believe your brother’s story that the men who attacked him were royal guards, Lord Heath?”
Heath hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. “I don’t pretend to understand the truth about that attack,” he answered. “But I believe Percival without reservation when he says that he saw guard uniforms under the cloaks of the so-called bandits.”
Prince Lachlan’s expression was hard to read as he once again dismissed Heath, making no move to leave the meeting room himself. A glance back showed Heath that the young prince was standing right where Heath had left him, his expression thoughtful as he gazed out the window once again.
* * *
Heath found the conversation with Prince Lachlan hard to shake. By the following morning, he was still turning it all over in his mind, very much to the detriment of his attempts to practice with his farsight.
Prior to Heath bringing it up, there had been no further mention of the king’s accusation three weeks before. Heath hadn’t spoken with King Matlock since, and had even gotten the impression that the king might be avoiding him. Certainly he saw no sign of approval in the sovereign’s eyes when he caught sight of him from a distance.
But the question continued to burn in Heath’s mind—who had ratted him out to the king? Only a very few people knew about his discovery of Merletta’s civilization. He’d been foolish to let the matter sit so long. The unconfirmed suspicion was surely worse than knowing for sure.
With that thought in mind, he turned his steps toward his cousin Brody’s chambers—unlike Heath, Brody’s family lived in the castle when in Bryford, not having an estate of their own in the city.
“Enter!”
The cheerful call came in response to Heath’s knock, and he let himself in. But it wasn’t Brody who confronted him as he entered the handsomely furnished sitting room.
“Hey, little brother.” Percival was lounging at his ease on an armchair, helping himself to what seemed to be leftovers from Brody’s breakfast.
Heath grunted in an unenthusiastic greeting, before scanning the room to discover that both Brody and his twin Bianca were also present.
“Now this is a conundrum,” said Brody, with his usual cheeky grin. “You know I’m always glad to see you, Heath. But your presence raises a ticklish question, due to the nebulous issue of your magic or lack thereof. Are you tipping us from three to four power-wielders, therefore turning this casual conversation into an illicit and criminal act? Or are you introducing a non-power-wielder into our midst, thereby making our gathering sanctioned, regardless of how many of us dangerous creatures are present?”
Percival let out a guffaw, but clearly still felt compelled to defend his little brother.
“Heath has magic, Brody. His eyesight is—”
“Yes, yes, his eyesight is excellent, we know.” Brody flapped a hand at his cousin. “Much good that does anyone.”
“Better than being able to control a bunch of weeds,” Percival said staunchly.
But Heath waved him down as well. He’d never been bothered by Brody’s jokes about his lack of magic—there was no malice in them—and he wasn’t about to start now that he knew he had a powerful magic of his own after all.
“If you two are quite finished,” he said.
“I never heard how that meeting yesterday went, Heath,” Bianca chimed in.
“Waste of time,” said Heath frankly. “As absurd as every meeting that’s come before it.”
“I’m glad you finally agree that the restrictions are ridiculous,” said Percival, a shadow crossing his face at the mention of the rules he found so offensive.
“I always agreed they were ridiculous,” said Heath tartly. “I just didn’t share your view that they were entirely unprovoked.”
Percival straightened in his seat, his brow darkening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“No, don’t start bickering,” Brody cut in. “If you want to argue, go to your own home. Heath, you looked very purposeful when you came in here. Was there something you wanted to say particularly?”
Heath drew in a deep breath, turning away from Percival. “Yes, actually.” He fixed his gaze on the twins. “Did anyone tell you what the king said to me the day Percival was attacked?”
The twins exchanged a bemused look. “No,” said Bianca.
Heath searched her eyes, trying to read her reaction to his next words. “He accused me of concealing a potential threat from him.”