The two finished with the chairs and took seats at a table near the windows. Outside, a lone apple seller wheeled a cart past, presumably on her way to the Gentry Quarter.
“I hope you’re not taking Esrahaddon’s word about Gaunt being the heir. You can never be sure exactly what he’s up to,” Royce said.
“No—well, yes—he confirmed the heir was alive, but I discovered his identity through Gaunt’s sister.”
“So how do you plan to find Gaunt? Did either of them tell you where he is?”
“No. I’m pretty sure Esrahaddon knows, or has a good idea, but he wouldn’t tell me, and I’ve not seen him since the battle. He did say he would need us for a job soon. I think he’ll want help rescuing Gaunt. He hasn’t been around here, has he?”
Royce shook his head. “I’m happy to say I haven’t seen him. Is that why you’re in town?”
“Not really. I’m sure he can find me wherever I am. After all, he found us in Colnora when he wanted us to come to Dahlgren. I’m on my way to see Myron at the abbey. If anyone knows about the history of the heir, he should. I was also given a letter to drop off to Alric.”
“A letter?”
“When I was stuck in Colnora during the siege, your old friends helped get me out.”
“The Diamond?”
Hadrian nodded. “Price arranged for me to slip away one night in exchange for delivering the letter. He preferred risking my neck rather than one of his boys.”
“What did it say? Who was it from?”
Hadrian shrugged. “How would I know?”
“You didn’t read it?” Royce asked incredulously.
“No, it was for Alric.”
“Do you still have it?”
Hadrian shook his head. “Delivered it to the castle on the way in.”
Royce dropped his face into his hands. “Sometimes, I just …” Royce shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
“What’s wrong?” Gwen asked as she joined them.
“Hadrian’s an idiot,” Royce replied, his voice muffled by his hands.
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Thank you, Gwen. See? At least she appreciates me.”
“So, Hadrian, tell me about Ratibor. Royce told me about the rebellion. How did it go?” Gwen asked with an excited smile.
“Emery was killed. Do you know who he was?”
Gwen nodded.
“So were a lot of others, but we took the city.”
“And Arista?”
“She survived the fight but took the aftermath hard. She’s become something of a heroine there. They put her in charge of the whole kingdom.”
“She’s a remarkable woman,” Gwen said. “Don’t you think so, Hadrian?” Before he could answer, a loud crash from the kitchen made her sigh. “Excuse me while I help Dixon.”
She started to stand but Royce reached his feet first. “Sit,” he said, kissing the crown of her head. “I’ll help him. You two get caught up.”
Gwen looked surprised but simply said, “Thank you.”
Royce hurried off, shouting in an unusually good-natured tone, “Dixon! What’s taking you so long? You’ve still got one hand, haven’t you?”
Gwen and Hadrian both laughed, mirroring surprised expressions.
“So, what’s new around here?” Hadrian asked.
“Not a whole lot. Albert came by last week with a job from a nobleman to place the earrings of a married woman in the bedchambers of a priest, but Royce declined it.”
“Really? He loves plant jobs. And a priest? That’s just easy money.”
She shrugged. “I think with you retired, he’s—”
Outside, an approaching clatter of hooves halted abruptly. A moment later, a man dressed as a royal courier, and walking with a distinct limp, entered the tavern. He paused at the doorway, looking puzzled.
“Can I help you?” Gwen asked as she stood.
“I have a message from His Majesty for the royal protectors. I was told they were here.”
“I’ll take that,” Gwen said, stepping forward.
The courier stiffened and shook his head. “It’s for the royal protectors only.”
Gwen halted and Hadrian noticed her annoyed expression.
“You must be new.” Rising to his feet, Hadrian held out his hand to the courier. “I’m Hadrian Blackwater.”
The courier nodded smartly and pulled a waxed scroll from his satchel. He handed over the dispatch and departed. Hadrian sat back down and broke the falcon seal.
“It’s a job, isn’t it?” Gwen’s expression darkened and she stared at the floor.
“It’s nothing. Alric just wants to see us,” Hadrian said. She looked up, her eyes revealing a troubled mix of emotions Hadrian could not decipher. “Gwen, what’s wrong?” he pressed, his voice softening.
At length she replied, almost in a whisper, “Royce asked me to marry him.”
Hadrian sat back in his chair. “Seriously?”
She nodded and hastily added, “I guess he thought that since you retired from Riyria, he would too.”