“Hadrian grew up in Hintindar. If his father was a Teshlor Knight, maybe he left behind some indication. At least then I would have someone else’s word instead of just Esrahaddon’s. Our job is taking us south. I could make a stop in Hintindar and see if I can find something out. By the way,” he told her gently, “I’ll be gone a good deal longer than I have been. I want you to know so you don’t worry needlessly.”
“I never worry about you,” she told him.
Royce’s face reflected his pain.
Gwen smiled. “I know you’ll return safely.”
“And how do you know this?”
“I’ve seen your hands.”
Royce looked at her, confused.
“I’ve read your palms, Royce,” she told him without a trace of humor. “Or have you forgotten I also make a living as a fortune-teller?”
Royce had not forgotten, but had assumed it was just a way of swindling the superstitious. Not until that moment did he realize how inconsistent it would be for Gwen to deceive people.
“You have a long life ahead of you,” she went on. “Too long—that was one of the clues that you weren’t completely human.”
“So I have nothing to worry about in my future?”
Gwen’s smile faded abruptly.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me,” he persisted, gently lifting her chin until she met his eyes.
“It’s just that … you need to watch out for Hadrian.”
“Did you look at his palms too?”
“No,” she said, “but your lifeline shows a fork, a point of decision. You’ll head either into darkness and despair or virtue and light. This decision will be precipitated by a traumatic event.”
“What kind of event?”
“The death of the one you love the most.”
“Then shouldn’t you be worried about yourself?”
Gwen smiled warmly at him. “If only that were so, I’d die a happy woman. Royce, I’m serious about Hadrian. Please watch out for him. I think he needs you now more than ever. And I’m frightened for you if something were to happen to him.”
When Royce returned to The Rose and Thorn, he found Hadrian still seated at the same table, only he was no longer alone. Beside him sat a small figure hooded in a dark cloak. Hadrian sat comfortably. Either the person sitting next to him was safe, or he was too drunk to care.
“Take it up with Royce when he gets here,” Hadrian was saying and looking up, added, “Ah! Perfect timing.”
“Are you from—” Royce stopped as he sat down and saw the face beneath the hood.
“I do believe that is the first time I’ve ever surprised you, Royce,” Princess Arista said.
“Oh no, that’s not true,” Hadrian said, chuckling. “You caught him way off guard when we were hanging in your dungeon and you asked us to kidnap your brother. That was much more unpredictable, trust me.”
Royce was not pleased with meeting the princess in the open tavern room, and Hadrian was speaking far too loudly for his liking. Luckily, the room was empty. Most of the limited clientele preferred to cluster around the bar, where the door hung open to admit the cool summer breeze.
“That seems a lifetime ago,” Arista replied thoughtfully.
“She has a job for you, Royce,” Hadrian told him.
“For us, you mean.”
“I told you.” Hadrian looked at him but allowed a glance at the princess as well. “I’m retired.”
Royce ignored him. “What’s been decided?”
“Alric wants to make contact with Gaunt and his Nationalists,” Arista began. “He feels, as the rest of us do, that if we can coordinate our efforts, we can create a formidable assault. Also, an alliance with the Nationalists could very well be the advantage we need to persuade Trent to enter the war on our side.”
“That’s fine,” Royce replied. “I expected as much, but did you have to deliver this information yourself? Don’t you trust your messengers?”
“One can never be too careful. Besides, I’m coming with you.”
“What?” Royce asked, stunned.
Hadrian burst into laughter. “I knew you’d love that part,” he said, grinning with the delight of a man blessed with immunity.
“I am the Ambassador of Melengar, and this is a diplomatic mission. Events are transpiring rapidly and negotiations may need to be altered to suit the situation. I’ve got to go because neither of you can speak for the kingdom. I can’t trust anyone, not even you two, with such an important mission. This meeting will likely determine whether or not Melengar survives another year. I hope you understand the necessity of having me along.”
Royce considered the proposal for a few minutes. “You and your brother understand that I cannot guarantee your safety?”
She nodded.
“You also understand that between now and the time we reach Gaunt, you’ll be required to obey Hadrian and myself and you won’t be provided any special treatment because of your station?”
“I expect none. However, it must also be understood that I’m Alric’s representative and, as such, speak with his voice. So where safety and methods are concerned, you’re granted authority, and I’ll follow your direction, but as far as overall mission goals are concerned, I reserve the right to redirect or extend the mission if necessary.”
“And do you also possess the power to guarantee additional payment for additional services?”
“I do.”
“I now pronounce you client and escort,” Hadrian said with a grin.
“As for you,” Royce told him, “you’d better have some coffee.”
“I’m not going, Royce.”
“What’s this all about?” Arista asked.
Royce scowled and shook his head at her.
“Don’t shut her up,” Hadrian said. He turned to the princess and added, “I’ve officially resigned from Riyria. We’re divorced. Royce is single now.”
“Really?” Arista said. “What will you do?”
“He’s going to sober up and get his gear.”
“Royce, listen to me. I mean it. I’m not going. There is nothing you can say to change my mind.”
“Yes, there is.”
“What, have you come up with another fancy philosophical argument? It’s not going to work. I told you I’m done. It’s over. I’m not kidding. I’ve had it.” Hadrian watched his partner suspiciously.
Royce simply looked back with a smug expression. At last, Hadrian asked, “Okay, what is it? I’m curious now. What do you think you could possibly say to change my mind?”
Royce hesitated a moment, glancing uncomfortably at Arista, then sighed. “Because I’m asking you to—as a favor. After this mission, if you still feel the same way, I won’t fight you and we can part as friends. But I’m asking you now—as my friend—to please come with me just one last time.”
Just then, the barmaid arrived at the table.
“Another round?”
Hadrian did not look at her. He continued to stare at Royce, then sighed.
“Apparently not. I guess I’ll take a cup of coffee, strong and black.”
CHAPTER 5
SHERIDAN
Rise of Empire (The Riyria Revelations #3-4)
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