The bodyguards were on alert at all times for Guthmar’s safety. This was, in part, because he was known to be clumsy when he drank. They would reach out at times, anticipating his stumble into things made of glass. Astrid mouthedthank youto them when they stopped Guthmar from falling into a set of armor in the meadery, worn by a legendary hero of yore who was known to have beaten an army single-handedly after having drunk an entire barrel of mead on his own. Vera would have shrieked if the armor was so much as dented. It would not do well to ruin something valuable right before the history fair.
In the scullery, Guthmar wanted a demonstration of how the kitchen staff washed the dishes. Guthmar’s wife shouldered past him right away. “You don’t have to do anything special for him,” Alvor assured the two men assigned to cleaning duty. “He would just like to see how you work normally.”
Astrid was oddly touched by the gesture. The two men displayed immediate relief. They showed Guthmar how they scrubbed every nook and cranny of the fancier goblets.“Fascinating,” Guthmar said with genuine awe. It was also possible he was drunk.
“He’s full of wonder about the world,” Astrid whispered to Freya. Freya hummed noncommittally in response.
Guthmar did, indeed, want to stop literally everywhere. He stopped at windows to admire the architecture; he stopped at a sconce to appreciate the metalsmithing that went into it; he stopped people in the halls to ask their names and what they did here. Once, he even sent an older orc on the kitchen staff away blushing after complimenting his hairstyle.
As the day went on, it was hard to be annoyed with Guthmar. Astrid hardly had time to do as much stopping as he did, but how could she begrudge someone who took time to appreciate all of life’s little pleasures? She began to envy him, after a time. She understood what his spouses saw in him.
“He notices everything,” Freya whispered from behind Astrid.
“Yes,” Astrid said, a bit fondly.
“He’scataloging.”
Astrid saw Guthmar’s actions through new eyes. Thank the goddess for Freya. It was a good cover to look through the accounting books—not that he’d find anything amiss—among other things that could be fed back to King Skarde.
But how much of this was true, and how much was Freya’s overcaution?
“Library,” Freya murmured as Astrid turned the corner toward the aviary.
Astrid paused, shuffled her feet, and pivoted to the other direction. “Do you like to read, Ambassador?” she said. “Our library is the finest in Torden.”
At this, the ambassador wrinkled his nose. He truly was inebriated. “I don’t care much for books. The effort required toread is…vast. Why stay inside and read when we can be out experiencing the world?”
Astrid pursed her lips. Novelty—this was someone who craved novelty. “We have an elf librarian.”
“My, but that is fascinating. Lead the way.”
Vera—said elf librarian—was not pleased to see them. She lifted her spectacles up her nose and brushed long red hair over one shoulder, giving the entourage an impressive glower.
“Your Majesty,” she greeted in a tone that could only be described as ironic. “And the ambassador from Sydlig, I take it.”
The ambassador held out a somewhat sweaty palm to greet her. Vera frowned at it and did not reciprocate the gesture.
“Lovely to meet you. How did you end up in orc country?” he asked.
Vera peered over the ambassador’s shoulder and straight at Freya. Astrid had never truly understood the relationship between Vera and Freya. They’d come to the castle together a decade ago, but they were not friends. What Astrid could tell was that Vera knew Freya was responsible for their presence today.
“Would you like a tour?” Vera asked unkindly.
“Oh, no. I don’t care for literature,” he said, and Astrid smothered a smile at the horror-struck look on Vera’s face.
“I do, dear,” Tassi said. “Perhaps we can have a look around?”
Tassi nudged Guthmar away from Vera. The three spouses and their two bodyguards found a corner with a chair and began to rifle through the books as Guthmar sat there, trying to peer around the corner at the librarian.
“What do you think, Vera?” Freya asked, leaning against the librarian’s counter.
“He’s ridiculous,” Vera said. “Whyever would the king send him? If he won’t so much as read a book, how can he be expectedto read and understand legal contracts? Or write and receive correspondence?”
“Why, indeed?” said Astrid.
Freya ran a finger over the book Vera was reading. “I was wondering if you knew anything about Sydlig marriage customs.”
Vera snorted. “Of course I know about Sydlig marriage customs.”
