“Sam?” Rosemary Haversford said. “Sam?”
And then she was running toward me, dark hair trailing behind her, dress billowing, shoes smacking against the cobblestone. My breath hitched in my chest at her bright smile, the way her wet eyes shone.
She was upon me before I could take another step, her arms wrapped around my shoulders, her head tucked just underneath my chin. I sagged against her as she laughed. “My boy,” she whispered. “My son. Sam. Oh, Sam. You’ve come home.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
I felt a big hand on the back of my neck as Joshua Haversford, my father, leaned forward, pressing his forehead near my ear. “Hello, Sam,” he said in that big voice of his.
“Hi, Dad,” I managed to say.
And it was good.
I COULDN’T sleep.
It was strange. We’d been on the road for ages, staying in taverns when we could but mostly camping out on the side of the road upon thin blankets as we dozed around a fire, our stomachs grumbling with hunger.
But here I was in my bed, full from a feast in our honor, not having to worry about waking up in a few hours to take my turn on watch, and I was wide-awake, staring at the ceiling.
Ryan was curled next to me, snoring lightly on my shoulder, his legs tangled with mine, arm thrown over my chest. His hair was longer than it’d been for some time, and I knew it’d most likely be shorn off the very next day, bright and early, along with his epic adventure beard, before he met with his knights. They’d line up for his inspection, and he’d have a hardened expression on his face. He’d bark orders at them, growl at them for smudges on their armor or the dullness of their blades. They’d stare straight ahead while he berated them, but they would all know it was an act. He would be happy to be standing in front of his knights again, and they’d be thrilled to have their commander back.
He deserved it.
And he obviously had no problem sleeping, if the drool on my shoulder meant anything.
I closed my eyes again, trying to clear my mind, focusing on the sounds of the castle.
I opened them again minutes later.
I sighed and slid out from underneath Ryan, careful not to wake him.
He rolled over onto my pillow, smacking his lips and sighing. I leaned down and pressed a kiss against his cheek.
He slept on.
The halls of Castle Lockes were mostly empty. I nodded at the knights who stood guard in various entryways, but didn’t stop to talk to them. I was too busy sorting through the tangled web in my head, trying to find a thread to start with, to tug on to see where it would lead me.
I found myself in the gardens, the stars shining down upon me. They didn’t mean to me what they had when I was a child, or even a year ago. Not with everything I knew now. I couldn’t see myself wishing upon them, or at least not in the way I used to. Knowing that the gods were actually listening to me but doing nothing but shuffling me as a pawn upon their cosmic board took a bit of the magic away.
I walked through the plants and flowers until I came upon the hidden entrance toward the rear that led to my mother’s secret garden. I hadn’t been back here in a long time, not since that night before Ryan’s wedding to Justin when I told him that he was my lightning-struck heart, that I thought I loved him. Everything that had followed had been a whirlwind, and I’d been caught up in it.
I pushed my way into the secret garden and—
“My King?”
Good King Anthony of Verania sat on a bench my father had made for my mother, a lantern lit next to him, a book sitting unread on his lap.
“Sam,” he said, mustache twitching as he gave me a small smile. “It is rather late. After all the excitement, I would have thought you’d have dropped off to sleep immediately.”
I shrugged, playing with the hem of my tunic. “Me too. But you know how it goes.”
He nodded sagely. “I do. But mine comes with the curse of age, something you should not be experiencing for quite a long time to come.”
“I suppose.”
He patted the bench beside him. “Come, Sam. I would have you sit with me. It’s been a long while since I’ve had some alone time with you.”
“At least buy me dinner first, Your Majesty,” I teased him as I stepped toward the bench.
He rolled his eyes fondly. “Sit your ass down, Sam.”
I did. He put his arm around me, and I laid my head upon his shoulder. We sat quietly for a while, watching the fireflies dancing in my mother’s garden. Instead of trying to think of everything, I thought of nothing at all, allowing myself to just breathe.
The King spoke first. “Justin told me of your adventures.”
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
“We’re best friends.”
“Are you.”
“5eva. And before you ask, yes, he knows this, because I tell him all the time.”
“Is that right.”
“And as such, I assume he told you how awesome I was and that everything that happened went exactly as I planned and I looked amazing while doing said plans.”
“That… isn’t quite how it came out.”
I sighed. “He gushed and used more superlatives? Gosh, that’s so like him when he talks about me. I’m not a god, King. I’m just a man, no matter what Justin says.”
The King chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for watching out for him.”
“It’s what we do.”
“He’s worried about you.”
I stiffened slightly. “How so?”
“He thinks all of this might be too much for you.”
I tried to pull away from the King, but his arm tightened around me. “No offense, Your Highness, but your son should keep his mouth shut.”
“Unless he’s singing your praises?”
“Precisely. In fact, that’s how it should be for everyone. If you could make that a law, I’d greatly appreciate it. And maybe do something about those We-Hate-Sam-A-Lot posters I saw on the sides of buildings when we came back into the City.”
“Saw those, did you?”
“Yeah. And they wouldn’t have bothered me as much if they hadn’t drawn me as a demon with the bodies of children and puppies littered around me. I mean, I haven’t used children and/or puppies in a spell in at least a month.”
“I have noticed an increase in both children and puppies in the City since your departure.”
“Oh, no worries. I’ll make sure to take care of that now that I’m back.”
“Dissenters often are the loudest because they feel the need to shout,” the King said, squeezing my shoulder. “I hope you know that.”
“Have there been many articles written about me in the paper since I’ve been gone?”
“Oh, yes. Daily.”
“And how many signatures on that petition that demanded my removal as the apprentice to the King’s Wizard?”