“Yes,” Finn said, already standing. “Consider it a matter of knightly honor.”
From across the table, Gwenna snorted. “You mean your wounded pride.”
“Same thing.” Finn waved a hand dismissively. “Either way, that fence needs fixing, and I’m not letting Cedric do it alone.”
Cedric heaved a put-upon sigh, but didn’t argue. “All right, if you’re so determined.” He stood, pushing his chair in neatly, and gestured for Finn to follow.
The evening air was crisp, carrying the scent of hay and damp earth. Finn rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the stiffness still lingering from the pre-dinner incident. Clarence, thankfully, was nowhere in sight. He was probably lurking, waiting to strike again.
“Honestly,” Finn began as they approached the fence, “I don’t know that you and Gwenna even need a dragon for protection with that goat around.”
To his surprise, Cedric laughed. It was a sound that Finn hoped to hear much more frequently. The prince grinned. “Now that you mention it, I think you’re on to something.” Cedric led him to a small shed near the goat pen and retrieved a hammer and some nails.
“Speaking of protection…what did happen to all those adventurers who supposedly came looking for a dragon?” Finn raised an inquisitive brow.
Cedric didn’t even glance up as he selected a nail. “Clarence.”
Finn blinked. “…Come again?”
Now Cedric did look at him, utterly deadpan. “They crossed Clarence. They did not return.”
Finn stared. He was mostly sure Cedric was joking. Probably. Maybe. “…You’re messing with me.”
Cedric only smiled. “Am I?”
Finn squinted. “Yes?”
No answer. Just the faintest curve of Cedric’s lips as he turned back to work.
And now Finn was less sure.
“But really,” Finn said, tone shifting. “They all came after Gwenna and the dragon.” He spoke it as a fact, since King Darius had already confirmed as much. His lips pressed together as he mulled it over. None of them had made it back.
Which meant the king had a vague idea of where Cedric and Gwenna were. But not a precise location.
“They were mercenaries.” Cedric’s tone was even as he trudged toward the goat pen. “You’re a knight of Lunareth, but I assume you’ve encountered merc knights before?”
Finn nodded. “Their loyalty is bought by the highest bidder. Their honor is…transactional.”
The prince was tight-lipped, but nodded. “Yes. And if any of them had gotten through, who knows what they would have done to Gwenna before returning her to Mirathen?” When phrased that way, Finn couldn’t say he blamed their defensive approach.
Finn’s mind wandered back to the grisly display. So many insignias he didn’t recognize, except for the lone Avilisian one. Finn couldn’t put a finger on why that troubled him.
Cedric glanced over his shoulder. “Can you hold a board in place?” His question made Finn forget all about unusual mercenary trappings.
Finn scowled. “I can use my hands for things besides swinging a sword.”
Cedric grinned, handing him a plank of wood. “We’ll see.”
Finn took the board, gripping it with mock indignation. “What do you think I am, some kind of reckless brute who only knows how to solve problems with violence?”
Cedric just gave him a look.
Finn sighed. “Okay, sometimes. But I know how to hold a board, Cedric.”
“We’ll still see.”
Finn muttered under his breath, but held the board in place, anyway. “So, perhaps this isn’t a question I should pose as you wield a hammer, but why let me live?” He raised his brows. “Was it my good looks?”
