Rowena trotted up the hill, happy to be home after so many sevennights away.
Two guards stood outside the gate. Ian could not make out their expressions from a distance, but the way they stood, gripping their pikes in front of him, showed him that they were afraid of the approaching crowd.
When he was ten paces from the closed gates, Ian drew Rowena to a stop. He said nothing, merely staring at the gate as though he expected it to open.
The guards shifted uncomfortably.
Ian nudged Rowena another step forward. She complied, tossing her head as though she knew this whole thing was beneath her.
Above him, on the castle walls, other castle guards began to gather.
“Well, get on with it,” Ian said loudly, after another painfully long silence. “Open the gate.”
“We cannot,” one of the guards said.
“You cannot?” Ian repeated the man’s words, throwing them back at him with a confused sneer.
“The king has ordered the gates to remain closed for the safety of the people of Iseldis,” the same guard explained.
“My father has awoken?” Ian asked, feigning ignorance and exaggerating the hopefulness in his voice.
“The order came from King Gareth,” the guard replied.
“As Crown Prince of Iseldis, I order you to open the gate.” Ian emphasized every word of his title.
The two guards looked at each other. The first guard, the one who had done all of the talking, looked back at Ian. “We also have orders not to open the gate for you, because you are a...” The man had the good sense to finish his sentence as the muttering from the crowd increased.
“Because I am your sovereign in the event that my father is indisposed?” Ian lifted his chin, opening his throat so that his words could ring out loud and clear over the people behind him.
The first guard looked down. “We are simply following orders, Your Highness.”
Ian felt his chest rise with hope as the guard used his title for the first time.
The silent guard tilted his head up, looking for any sort of reinforcement from over the battlements, though Ian doubted he could see anything from that angle.
Sliding from Rowena’s back, Ian handed her reins to Lane and walked the final few steps to the gate.
The guards immediately used their pikes to bar his progress forward. “I am sorry, my lord,” the first guard muttered.
Ian reached through the weapons and pounded his fist against the door.
“In the name of your crown prince and acting sovereign, open the gates!” he yelled.
The two guards kept their pikes in place, neither of them looking at Ian.
Ian pounded on the gate again.
The sound of several sets of armored footsteps came from the battlements above, and both guards looked relieved.
“What is all this about?” shouted a familiar voice.
Ian stepped back several paces until he could see the face of General Zimri peering down through one of the open windows in the walkway above the gate.
“It is I,” Ian yelled. “Ian Sirilian, acting sovereign of Iseldis, and I demand entry into my home.”
Zimri’s frightened expression relaxed into a scoff when he saw Ian standing below him. “Ian Sirilian,” Zimri bellowed in the same voice he used to shout orders to his men. “Traitor to the crown.”
“Why is the gate closed, Zimri?” Ian asked, wanting to quickly distract the people behind him.
