Royal Assassin

In the hallway outside King Shrewd's apartments, I encountered Verity with Kettricken on his arm. Never had I seen them as they presented themselves now. Here, suddenly, was the King-in-Waiting and his queen. Verity was dressed in a long formal robe of deep forest green. An embroidered band of stylized bucks graced the sleeves and hem. He wore on his brow the silver circlet with the blue gem that was the mark of the King-in-Waiting. I had not seen him wear it in some time: Kettricken was dressed in the purple and white that she so often chose. Her gown of purple was very simple, the sleeves cut short and wide to reveal narrower and longer sleeves of white beneath them. She wore the jewelry, that Verity had gifted her with, and her long blond hair had been intricately dressed with a net of silver chain junctured with amethysts. I halted at the sight of them. Their faces were grave. They could be going nowhere except to see King Shrewd.

I presented myself formally, and carefully let Verity know that King Shrewd had summoned me.

"No," he told me gently. "I summoned you to present yourself to King Shrewd. Along with Kettricken and me. I wished you witness for this."

Relief flooded me. This was not about Celerity, then. "Witness for what, my prince?" I managed to ask.

He looked at me as if I were daft. "I ask the King's permission to leave on a quest. To seek out the Elderlings and bring back the aid we so desperately need."

"Oh." I should have noticed the quiet page, all in black, bearing an armful of scrolls and tablets. The boy's face was white and stiff. I would wager he had never before done anything more formal for Verity than wax his boots. Rosemary, freshly washed and clothed in Kettricken's colors, reminded me of a scrubbed purple-and-white turnip. I smiled at the chubby child, but she returned my look gravely.

Without preamble, Verity rapped once on King Shrewd's door. "A moment!" called a voice. Wallace's. He opened the door a crack, glared out, then realized that this was Verity he was keeping out. He had a moment of too obvious hesitation before he swung the door wide.

"Sir," he quavered. "I did not expect you. That is, I was not informed that the King was to have-"

"You are not needed for this. You may go, now." Usually Verity did not dismiss even a page so coldly.

"But ... the King may have need of me ...." The man's eyes shifted wildly about. He feared something.

Verity's eyes narrowed. "If he does, I will see you are summoned. In fact, you may wait. Just outside the door. Be there if I call for you."

After an instant's pause Wallace stepped outside the door and stood beside it. We entered the King's chambers. Verity himself set hand to the door and shut it. "I do not like that man," he observed, more than loudly enough to be heard through the door. "He is officiously subservient, and greasily obsequious. A very poor combination."

The King was not in his sitting room. As Verity crossed it the Fool suddenly appeared in Shrewd's bedroom doorway. He goggled at us, grinned in a sudden lift of joy, and then made a floor-sweeping bow to all of us. "Sire! Awaken! It is as I have foretold, the minstrels have arrived! "

"Fool," Verity growled, but it was good-natured. He brushed past him, fending off the Fool's mocking attempts to kiss the hem of his robe. Kettricken lifted a hand to smother a smile and followed Verity. The Fool all but succeeded in tripping me with a suddenly stretched-forth foot. I avoided it, but made a clumsy entrance, nearly colliding with Kettricken. The Fool grinned and simpered at me, then capered over to Shrewd's bedside. He lifted the old man's hand, patted it with true gentleness. "Your Majesty? Your Majesty? You have callers."

In the bed, Shrewd stirred and took a sudden deep breath. "What's this? Who's here? Verity? Pull back the curtains, Fool, I can scarcely see who's here. Queen Kettricken? What's all this? The Fitz! What is this about?" His voice was not strong, and there was a querulous note to it, but for all that, he was better than I had expected. As the Fool drew back the bed curtains and propped pillows behind him, I found myself facing a man who looked older than Chade. The resemblance between the two seemed to become more marked as Shrewd aged. The flesh of the King's face had fallen, to reveal the same browline and cheekbones as his bastard brother. The eyes beneath those brows were alert, but weary. He seemed better than the last time I had seen him. He pushed himself more upright to confront us. "Well, what is this about?" he demanded, his eyes scanning our circle.

Verity bowed deeply, formally, and Kettricken echoed it with her curtsy. I did as I knew was required: went down on one knee and stayed there, head bowed. I still managed to peek up when Verity spoke. "King Shrewd. My father. I come to ask your permission for an undertaking."

"Which is?" the King asked testily.