Ch 71: The pitfalls of eavesdropping

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POV CHANGE!

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Gidden had made a promise, and once he did, he always kept them.

He had promised Ella not to impose on her, and he would keep his word. He was a gentleman, after all. But as soon as he came upon certain information he needed to discuss with King Callan, he pounced on the chance.

Could he have sent an emissary or a high ranking courtier? Maybe. But it was sensible information, after all. It needed to be handled with the utmost care. And who better than the Commander himself? He was also the Prince when it came down to it. He reasoned his father would have wanted him to represent the Kingdom properly.

And well, if Ella just so happened to live in the same palace, it had no reason to do with his haste to attend. Wanting to see her wasn't a crime. She was his friend.

Just a friend, he reminded himself, as he made his way across the long, empty halls.

He knew he ought to have visited the king first. It was what he'd come for, after all. But Gidden found himself heading for Ella's rooms instead. He had time to speak to the King later, and maybe, speaking with Ella first would even help him. She was his niece, after all, and quite close to the man.

Callan Aeron, the famed King of Gerreathea. The kindest thing said about him was that he was as cold as his grey eyes. He was the type of man who made one want to straighten their spine. Gidden, who'd been seasoned by the war camps, countless years at the borders handling criminals and even a stint at the Barren Forest, still felt a frisson of trepidation. His sheer presence and power commanded respect.

Had he not seen it with his eyes, Gidden would have never believed the King had any emotions. Against all odds, though, his one soft spot was his niece. Small, doll-faced Ella wrangled proud smiles and indulgent praises from one of the most powerful and dangerous men in the realm.

He didn't look like Callan the Cruel then. Not when he'd been almost... kind during dinner. Polite with his staff, generous with his young courtiers, interested in the welfare of his people and open to making connections.

Even Gidden, who was as bullheaded as they came, had to admit that perhaps the rumours held no weight. The King seemed decent enough. It had been enough for him to press his father for a meeting, to ally.

All had been well until a few days earlier, when he'd received certain information. Information that once again made him question his previous judgments.

Gidden shook his head and straightened. He hoped he'd been wrong again. He hoped it was all a big misunderstanding.

Just like a maid had instructed him, Ella's room was nestled on the West Wing of the enormous palace, on a lonesome fourth floor.

Three knocks on the wooden door were met with a muffled, "Come in, Kat! It's open!"

Katram, the housekeeper, he remembered. Well, that wasn't his name, but it was as good as an invitation. He opened the door and walked in, smiling already. Just the idea of seeing her again brightened his day.

"Hello you, I came by and thought I'd drop--" his words died in his mouth as he took in the scene. His eyes darted everywhere, rapidly taking in everything there was to see.

And, boy, was there ever a sight.

It wasn't anything strange. Ella's sitting room looked like it always did, maybe just a little more lived-in. A desk full of parchments and letters. A cup of tea or two. Three drawings he'd never seen before were pinned behind her desk as well.

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