The King's Messenger

Chapter 18

On the way back to the palace, Eden sent Messenger to buy him a fresh, unbloodied shirt with Adrian's begrudging money. He hadn't wanted to risk going back to his room and tipping off those who wanted him dead. Torre and Adrian were a bit dustier than usual, but they were passably excusable by their morning ride. A bloody sleeve, however, was not.

"Once we're in the palace, we must make haste to the feast hall. We don't need a servant tipping our quarry off," he instructed. "Whoever reacts will be able to hide it quickly, if their reaction even shows at all. If we don't catch their shock immediately, it becomes vastly more difficult to determine the culprit."

The group acknowledged collectively. They'd left Kaeda behind; without proper planning and a new wardrobe, it wouldn't be reasonable to try to pass her off as a lady of high standing.

"Let's go, then." Walking briskly and straight-backed, they crossed onto the palace grounds.

No servants seemed to take special note of their arrival. As they travelled through the palace, the halls became more crowded with traffic for the Sunday meal. The noble who gave up an opportunity to dine with the king was a rare sight indeed. There was limited seating near the king, however, which noblemen squabbled over, trying to arrive earlier than the rest to secure their seat. More important nobles- those who worked more closely for the king, for example- were guaranteed seats more preferred seats.

The dining room's doors loomed ahead. "Time to pay attention," Eden muttered. Torre nodded at the guard attending the door, who opened it to let them enter.

King Richar had his own table, for his most favored, separate from the rest of the diners. To his side resided an empty seat reserved for Eden. He nodded to Messenger, and the group split. Messenger and Torre would find vantage points across from each other, giving them maximum coverage of the room. Eden would invite Adrian to the king's table, where they would have a closer look at the more important nobles. Eden suspected that the person trying to kill him would more likely be at his table than the other.

"Eden! I'm so glad you could join us. I'd heard you were ill," King Richar greeted him.

Eden plastered a smile to his face. "Recovered just in time. I'd hate to miss the saints' lunch." Already, his eyes swept across the table, checking reactions. Was that a slight widening of the eyes from Lord Bahk? A quick swivel from Eirrich? Hard to tell.

Eden rounded the table, making his way to his seat by the king. Looking for someone decidedly innocent-looking, Eden raised his eyebrows at some lord he couldn't recall the name of at the time with a slight smile, then inclined his head. The unfortunate lord got the message; pink-faced, he rose, excused himself, and left his seat for Adrian. Eden waved Adrian to his seat, who looked at him skeptically before sitting.

Nobody's reaction stood out to him. They were all either innocent or they didn't wear their hearts on their sleeves, which made Eden's lot distastefully more difficult. It wasn't impossible, however. He couldn't see Messenger from where he was, but he knew he was behind him. Torre was patrolling the front of the room, the image of an overprotective captain of the guard.

Shock wasn't the only telltale sign Eden could look for. Anger, frustration, disgust, anxiety... He would have to go fishing. He figured he would start with a simple target.

"Lord Bahk," he opened as a servant served him fresh venison with a red currant sauce. "So good to get to speak with you again. I quite enjoyed our conversation the other day." Eden smiled encouragingly.

Lord Bahk, flustered, hastened to reply. "I feel quite the same, Your Highness. Quite so, indeed."

Eden's eyelids fluttered briefly from the effort of not rolling his eyes at the man. There was no way this man could've hid any emotion he felt. "I finally got to meet your son. You raised quite the impressive man, I must say. An excellent rider; almost as good as me." He could feel Adrian's notedly flat stare on the side of his face. It only fueled his played-up smile.