The Fairest (Book #1)

16: Gideon

King Dimitri sat up. "Yes, the Council has been discussing the idea."

"But doesn't that require entering the Dauntless Mountains?" Princess Relana asked.

"It does. The Commander and I will have meetings soon about excavating the area to make sure it is now suitable for construction."

"A meeting is honestly unnecessary," Eron said, his husky voice scratching Gris' ears. "Just give the word, and my brave scouts will flush out the mountainside. It is quite simple."

"The woods in that area have been untouched for years now," the king said. "But huge projects require a lot of paperwork and negotiations, Commander. Something I know you sword bearers dread."

Commander Eron gave a sharp smile. "We do."

"Damn, this soup is delicious," Gideon interrupted. He turned to Gris, and his back straightened. "Give your chef and cooks a raise in pleasures, eh, brother?"

Brother. The very word made him both cringe and chuckle. He nodded. "Absolutely."

"Nonsense, Gid. The only raise these slaves should get is the height of the noose," Queen Saia scowled, receiving a chuckle from her daughter.

"Now, now Saia, no talking of death while we're sitting here," the king inserted.

Gris growled on the inside and had to say what shot to his mind. "Mind you, Your Majesty. These slaves worked too hard for this luncheon to receive such a distasteful remark from their queen."

The queen gasped, offended by the obvious. Gideon laughed aloud and gave Gris a nudge with his elbow.

Relana scoffed. "Well, at least you managed to say that without a single st-st-stutter." Those within earshot laughed, especially her ignorant mother. Eron gave his usual mischievous smirk, and Lord Hercones only shifted uncomfortably beside Gris.

Gris' cheeks grew hot, and he slumped a bit in his chair.

"Oh, Relana, you have some nerve to taunt our brother, knowing how you've been losing hair as of late," Gideon teased. He flipped a lock of his hair in jest.

Relana's fair skin went chalky white. She gasped in disbelief at Gideon's outburst, which brought some chuckles. Gris smiled, happy to have someone defend him for once. However, his rebuttal looked to be somewhat true by the horror overcoming her face.

"Mother, did you hear what he said? Father, please do something."

"Calm down, Rela. Gideon, apologize to your sister," the king replied lazily.

Gideon returned to his soup. "Over my dead body," he taunted.

Finally, Gris caught eyes with Orlan and gestured him over. The floor servant came around the table, and the commander did not look pleased.

"Yes, Your Highness?" he said loudly, but for good reason, Gris assumed.

He waved him closer. "I need you to deliver a message to Rasheem."

"Yes, sir."

"I just re-remembered. Tell him to return that gift. I j-just remembered. It's the w-wrong kind," he asserted with haste.

"Gift?" Orlan looked so confused, Gris' heart began to burn with panic.

"He will understand. Send the message immediately."

"Yes, sir, right away, sir," Orlan said with narrowed eyes. But he nodded his head and quickly exited into the kitchen.

"You bought someone a gift, am I hearing correctly, brother?" Gideon leaned so close to him that he could smell the mixture of his cologne with the blacksmith's rusty odor.