Ryze snorted. “By blocking the staircase and rejecting the king’s wishes?”
“No, I’m worried about Prince Everand. It’s best if I return to the dungeon.”
“No, it’s best if you do as the king wishes.”
“Everand will worry if I don’t return. He’ll think you’ve killed me.”
Ryze groaned and rolled his eyes. “I just came from the dungeon, where I told him you were being shown to a comfortable room, new clothes, and a much-needed bath.”
Hugo couldn’t deny he desperately needed a bath, but he continued to give Ryze a dark look. “Do you swear?”
“On my honor as a knight. Prince Everand was relieved by the news.” Ryze met his eyes, not blinking, as he spoke. “He must have tired of smelling you.”
Hugo believed him. Not about the smelling-him part, but Everand’s relief. They might not have gotten their association off on the right foot, but Hugo was certain that deep down Captain Ryze was an honorable person who wanted what was best for his kingdom. Even if it meant his king putting him in an awkward position.
“Fine. Go home. I’ll behave,” Hugo said with an imperious wave of his hand.
Ryze’s exhale was almost a moan. “I want to believe that.”
After flashing the captain a final thin-lipped smile, Hugo turned and followed Pepper along the corridor, the guards still tromping behind them. He might not like the arrangement, but dinner would give him the chance to talk to the king. If King Victor wouldn’t move Everand to a more comfortable room, Hugo would return to the dungeon. End of story.
In the meantime, a bath sounded heavenly.
Hugo was not surprised at all to find that the room was as beautiful as both of the rooms he’d stayed in at the Frostbourne palace, the one drawback being that Everand wasn’t in the room next to his. The walls were covered in an elegant silvery-gray and blue pattern, while the rest of the room and furniture was decorated in shades of silver and blue.
The guards, thankfully, remained in the hallway while Pepper flitted about, pointing out this thing or that thing. Hewhipped open the wardrobe with a flourish to reveal several suits of clothes in a variety of shades and fabrics.
While Hugo appreciated it all, he couldn’t stop himself from heading to a set of glass doors that led to a small balcony. He pulled the doors open and stepped outside, only to sigh with disappointment.
Pepper chuckled behind him, and he turned to see the young man shaking his head. “You weren’t thinking that you could escape that way, were you? We’re up on the third floor!”
“No, I’d never leave without Prince Everand. I was hoping to get a glimpse of Onisa. This is my first—and possibly only—visit to the city. I was curious what it is like, if it is so very different from Frostbourne.” As he finished speaking, he and Pepper lifted their gazes to take in a vast dark-green forest of pine trees and mountains. There was no sign of Onisa.
“Sorry. This side of the castle doesn’t face the city but the Faldare Forest. I’m sure if you mention it to the king, he might see about letting you go on a quick tour of Onisa. The capital is amazing with the best shops for snacks.”
Hugo grinned at his companion. “I’m a prisoner, Pepper. Not a guest. It doesn’t matter how anyone tries to pretty it up. Besides, my home in Branem rests along the edge of Shaggy Butternut Woods. When I look out most of the windows at home, I see trees, so this feels familiar.”
Pepper didn’t lose his smile as he chattered away, turning his attention away from tours and back to the guest room. He worked on getting the hot bath drawn and choosing the right soaps to fit Hugo’s temperament and looks. Hugo wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but the lovely aroma filling the bathroom proved Pepper had succeeded brilliantly.
After the man offered to play valet, Hugo shoved him out of the room. The relief that came with the peace and quiet lasted for about two minutes, and then the melancholy set in.He missed Everand. Was the prince okay alone in the dungeon? Were the guards tormenting him? Or was he lonely?
Hugo shook off those thoughts and stripped out of his filthy tuxedo. The white shirt had long ago yellowed under a mix of dirt and sweat. He’d be shocked if the garments could be saved. It would be better if they were burned, which made him sad for Mr. Booth. His creation was ruined.
Hugo sank into the water and groaned, his voice bouncing off the walls. Clean and warm at last. For the first ten minutes, he soaked in the water, letting the heat ease days of fear and tension. As soon as his fingers wrinkled, he grabbed a cake of soap and worked on scrubbing until his skin turned pink. He washed his hair three times. He would have gone for a fourth, but he feared creating a bald spot.
Squeaky clean and refreshed, Hugo stepped out of the bath, wrapped in a soft blue robe that matched the decor of his room. When he left the bathroom, he found a fresh pot of tea and some snacks waiting for him along with a note from Pepper that he’d return in three hours to help him dress for his dinner with the king.
That was enough time for Hugo to think of a plan to deal with the king and this entire tangled situation. He might not know much about international politics, but he was experienced in dealing with scheming brothers. King Victor was polite and kind to him right now, but this was likely all a ploy to use Hugo to better control Everand. He wasn’t sure such a thing would work, but he’d be damned if he’d let Everand be put in that painful position.
No, what he needed to do was get to the bottom of this old dispute. He’d heard the Branem side of the problem. Now he needed to hear Wulia’s point of view. There had to be a middle point in all this that would allow them to end this war. Preferably without taking yet more innocent lives.
The only thing he couldn’t figure out was how he was going to get anyone to listen to him.
Twenty-Five
The sun was sitting low in the sky when a servant and the ever-present pair of guards escorted Hugo through the castle. They walked down yet more beautifully decorated corridors, but they didn’t stop in a grand dining room like he’d expected with its long table filled with Wulian ministers, politicians, and aristocrats.
Two servants soundlessly opened a pair of frosted glass doors to reveal a modest-sized balcony. A table covered with a white cloth rested in the center. But there were only two chairs and two place settings. That couldn’t be right. Had the servants brought him to the wrong spot in the castle? This was too intimate. Too romantic.
