Chapter Twenty-Five: Reparations

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I go back to work the next morning. Amaia insists on checking me over, but apparently deems me healthy enough. She smiles at the daisies in my hair and ushers me to the kitchens to pick up the prince's breakfast.

It isn't just Amaia that's acting strangely, though. Eero refuses to look up at me as I bring his tray into his study. Instead, he barks a firm, "Leave it and go."

Reluctantly, I do as I'm told, going to stand in the hallway with the guard stationed there.

William is nowhere to be found. Instead, Eero's other personal guard statues against the hall, eyes trained straight ahead. He's tall, like Eero and the other men, but he's broader than they are. With red, curly hair—much like mine—hanging loosely around his shoulders and blending in with a thick copper beard, he's a walking portrait of masculinity.

"Good on you," he whispers. I shoot him a funny look. "For being ballsy enough to take on William. You may not have won, but you scared him nonetheless. I ain't ever seen that man so desperate to win a fight."

I smirk in response and sidle up beside him. Today's the day I'm going to chase some loose ends—specifically find out more about Master Ursus by talking to the guards and other maids. If this man wants to talk, I'll go along.

"What's your name?" I ask quietly, clasping my hands in front of me.

The guard's mouth twitches. "Magnus."

"Nice to meet you, Magnus."

That gets a grin out of him. His cheeks turn a little pink, but he still doesn't look at me. I decide to push a little further.

"Do you know anything about Master Ursus?" I ask.

He shudders. "The king's advisor? Yeah, I know him."

"And you sit in on royal meetings and stuff, right?" Papa would cringe to hear me refer to royal council's as "meetings and stuff," but what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

"Not often," he replies. "Only when Will's busy."

Ah. So I really need to be talking to the man who tried to strangle me. Not happening.

"But you have?" Magnus nods, so I continue. "What's his stance on global affairs? You know, alliances between countries and such."

"Master Ursus doesn't get along with anyone, little maid," he says darkly, tightening his grip on the sword hanging from his belt. "I find it hard to believe he'd ever advocate for peace."

My brows furrow as I look up at him. "But Anjord's at peace right now, isn't it?"

"Aye. We are. But between you and me, that won't last long."

"Why not?" I ask as my stomach bottoms out.

Finally, Magnus glances down at me. "You didn't hear this from me. No gossiping, got it?" I put a finger over my lips and nod. He chuckles and leans towards me conspiratorially. "There's talk of expanding to the east. Into the sea."

"Talk from who?" I dig, standing on my tiptoes. He knows. He has to. I'm so close to actual answers that I can taste them.

"Unsurprisingly, it's from—"

A door opening down the hall startles up both into silence. We're not breaking any rules by talking to each other, but the two of us had bundled close together, whispering. If someone saw us, it would probably look like we were doing other things. I pull back and crane my neck around him to see the king striding down the carpeted hallway.

Magnus and I both jerk back to attention, straightening our backs against the wall. The stone is sharp and biting, but I don't pull away. After the way King Soren acted when we first met, the last thing I want is him noticing me.

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