She swallowed and walked to the exit.
His father strode off, but fifty or so soldiers did not. The men surrounded them.
Garrin sidestepped the guards and gestured for Lex to precede him. “Gauze?” he said, attempting to keep the moment light when it was anything but.
She sent him a sidelong look. “Yes, prince. What is with the frothy gowns you make your women wear?”
She was doing a good job performing in front of the others.
His mouth twitched. Lex managed to give him grief even at a time like this. “It is tradition for women to wear such gowns around the castle. Does it displease you?”
She stared ahead. “It’s more comfortable than I thought it would be, but not nearly as comfortable as my normal clothes.”
“When we are finished with supper,” Garrin said, conscious that every word would be noted, “you may wear what you are accustomed to in the Land of Sun.”
She made a sound, and Garrin glanced over. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t wear the dress,” she said, her chin tilted up.
Stubborn.
He questioned every choice he’d made since finding Lex in the Earth realm, but he would never regret the time he’d spent with her. Lex would eventually return to her normal life. Perhaps marry… The thought put Garrin in a worse mood than the one he was in after his father’s ambush.
Before long, they entered the royal quarters, and Garrin took in every guard, every servant he’d never seen before. He’d traveled for years, but he typically knew the royal soldiers.
In the time he’d been gone, many of his father’s staff had been replaced. And that was not a good sign. It meant his father didn’t trust them.
Soldiers and servants peeled from the walls, carrying trays or armory, depending on their role, and followed Garrin and Lex into the dining room, while their escorts remained outside.
There were more than the typical number of attendants inside the dining room, another sign that didn’t bode well.
Garrin peered down the twenty-person table set for four. Large chandeliers were lit, and the walls were covered with pictures of kings and queens of millennia past, their various children depicted behind them. A king was no king without his progeny, even if that progeny numbered one or two over a lifetime. The only king missing from the walls was his father.
Casone Branimir had been waiting for more children that would never come. Garrin had considered it reasonable for his father’s portrait to be withheld, assuming it a king’s right to see if more children would arrive. But why not celebrate the one who existed? If Garrin were a legitimate heir, there was no shame in presenting the land with one child. Unless Isle was right, and Garrin wasn’t legitimate.
His father stood with his back to Garrin and Lex, though there was no question he heard them arrive, not with the number of guards in tow. But while Casone remained with his back turned, his wife stared at Lex, mistrust etched along the edges of her oval eyes that would never be considered warm, despite their russet color.
“Your majesty,” the king’s head butler said. “The prince and his companion have arrived.”
The king slowly turned from looking at a painting of one of Garrin’s more virile ancestors standing in front of four children, to peer possessively at Lex.
A surge of adrenaline filled Garrin’s chest.
He shifted closer to her. “Father, I’d like to formally introduce you to Lex,” he said, careful not to give her full name. The name Lexandra was common, but not so common that it wouldn’t stand out among his people. Lex had spent her youth in Dark Kingdom. It was best to tell the truth and no more. “She has made the arduous journey to Dark Kingdom and is to become my bride.”
Without taking his eyes off Lex, the king said, “What is your surname, child?”
Garrin heard Lex audibly swallow. “Meinrad,” she said, her voice shaky.
Garrin stiffened. There was no doubt his father would investigate who her parents were.
His father’s brow rose. “An old noble name.”
“Not where I’m from,” Lex said.
Which was true. In the Earth realm, Lex’s surname would have no noble bearing.
“Interesting.” The king tapped a bejeweled dagger sheathed at his waist, and Garrin looked to the sides, preparing for an attack.
His heart raced. He had made a grave mistake. He should have never allowed Lex to meet his father. Should have fought off a hundred, two hundred soldiers, if need be.
