“Look, there he is!” Christian said to Maddie, and they both hastened at once to Francis’s side.
Francis barely got out a hello before they demanded to know where he’d been.
“You had us worried!” Christian said. “Gustav and Archie are both in a panic.”
“We thought something had happened to you,” Maddie said. “Where have you been?”
“I was taking in the grounds,” Francis said. “I’m quite capable of managing myself, I assure you.”
“There you are!” Archie materialised beside them, a half-eaten fruit tart in hand. “We’ve been searching everywhere.”
“And I was just saying there was no need,” Francis told him. “I merely took some time to myself from the ritualhumiliation of competing in these ridiculous games for the favour of a man I’ve yet to lay eyes on.”
Christian and Archie looked taken aback, as it was rare that Francis spoke to them so.
“Oh, speaking of which,” Maddie said, ignoring Francis’s bad mood, “The king should be making an appearance at supper tonight. You need to get changed and make an appearance yourself.”
“I’ve already eaten,” Francis said, wishing he were still with Hasim and the cats. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin his marvellous day by sitting through an elaborate state dinner, surrounded by the same rivals who beat the stuffing out of him yesterday, all while the king sat secluded behind a screen.
“But you must go,” Maddie said. “Queen Maria wants you to compete, Francis.”
“Well, things have changed,” Francis said firmly, looking between his companions. His eyes fell upon that half-eaten tart in Archie’s hand.
It was clear this was merely a holiday for them.
Well, now Francis had had a taste of what it was like not being the star of the show, he had an idea.
“In fact,” he said, smiling devilishly, “I have a way to stay in the running while taking some time off to recover from my injuries.”
“Injuries?” Archie scoffed. “A few bruises, old sport.”
Francis fixed him with a look. “Archie, how many duels have you fought? Off the record?”
“Off the record? Hm.” Archie took a bite of his tart and chewed thoughtfully. “One or two.”
Christian scoffed. “More like three or four.”
“At least five, I’d say,” Maddie said.
“And how many times have I acted as your second?” Francis asked him. “Off the record.”
Maddie gasped. “Francis! If your family found out…”
“Maddie, I can assure you they know, and don’t care,” Francis told her. He wasn’t an heir, he was expendable.
Archie cleared his throat. “A couple of times, I dare say.”
“Three.” Francis looked at his friend. “Three times I acted as your second. There would’ve been a fourth had the last fellow who challenged you hadn’t fallen down drunk first.”
Archie chuckled at the memory. “Yes, yes. What’s your point, sir?”
“I need you to act as my second now,” Francis told him. “Be me. Stand in my place. Go to dinner. Play the games tomorrow. Keep me in the running.”
“You want me to be you?” Archie said.
“We look fairly similar,” Francis said. “Many mistake us as brothers, so you could easily pass as me.”
“Minus the eye patch,” Christian pointed out.
