"She has been found."
The quill he had been using so ticulously fell out of his hand.
His gaze shot up, catching Andon’s gaze and pinning it.
"Where is she?"
Andon drew closer, perching himself at the edge of Yeren’s table.
"In your receiving room."
"And the boy?"
"With her."
He rubbed his eyes.
"I thought she had gone South. How in the world did you find her? Are you certain it’s them?"
"You can see for yourself, Your Grace. I don’t think I would forget the face of the woman giving my King sleepless nights." Andon muttered with his usual crooked grin.
"How did you manage to find her?"
Andon laughed.
"That is a story best not told, Your Grace." He stood up. "Now, I will take my leave. I need a warm bath and good food."
Yeren stood as well.
"If you hadn’t gone, she probably would not have been found by now."
The cocky man grinned again.
"I hope you now understand how indispensable my counsel is to you." With that, he left the room.
Yeren could barely read the letters scattered on his table.
Reden could wait for a few hours or a day. He just needed to confirm it was her.
He donned his cloak and headed for the door. Two guards accompanied him.
At the door of his receiving room, two guards stood there.
They both nodded and parted, each opening their half of the double doors.
He hesitated.
Realizing that his n were watching, he drew in a deep breath and walked into the room.
There she sat, at the edge of one of his costly cushions, cradling her hands in her lap.
She was simply... unrecognizable. Even her hair was dark brown with mud and dirt. Her face was streaked with dirt as well.
Only those eyes.
Those deep green eyes.
There was no longer any doubt that it was her.
Her shoulders stiffened, her mouth drew into a thin line. Even those beautiful eyes hardened.
Aye, it was her.
Hating himself for staring, he turned his attention to the boy seated across her.
The boy was just as dirty as she was. They looked just as Andon had when he had barged in on him the previous day.
"How do you fare?" He asked.
The boy managed a weak smile.
"Good, Your Grace." He sketched a decent bow.
Yeren nodded at him, impressed at his manners - sothing his father clearly lacked.
Then, as if rembering her own manners, she stood and dropped to a curtsey.
"Your Grace."
The faintest hint of a smile curved his lips. He liked the challenge in her eyes.
If only she knew how he had been working day and night to get her back.
But of course, she didn’t.
"Have a chamber cleaned for her. And ensure that a bath is drawn for her." He said to the chamber maids.
"My thanks for the generous offer, but I beg to decline." She said quickly.
He had been certain she would refuse.
"It wasn’t an offer." Then he added, "Have one drawn for the boy as well, then arrange for him to be returned ho. This information should be contained as much as possible."
Yeren knew without a doubt that the news would reach Jarren before the day was over.
The chamber maids took Arlan away. He stood aside, waiting for them to take Claire as well.
"May I have a word with the King?" When no one moved, she added, "Alone, if possible."
Everyone bowed and left the room.
He moved to the window, giving her ample room to gather her thoughts.
"Why were you looking for ?"
The question took him by surprise.
"You dig too deep."
She moved closer, close enough for him to sll the dry mud that clung to her like a second skin.
"I owe you my life."
He swore his heart stopped for a brief second.
"You don’t owe anything. I’m your King, I owe you my service."
She ca even closer.
"You don’t owe ... or my family anything - you made that very clear when my father died."
The words reached in and stabbed him deeper than a sword wound ever could.
"You’re right. I don’t."
"Then, why did you do it?"
She was closer now, but for so reason the stench didn’t matter anymore.
"I just did."
Her eyes softened.
"What do you want in return?"
"Stop asking that."
"I have nothing of value to repay you with."
He backed away, leaving the window completely.
"I know."
She moved away from the window as well.
Both of them ran their hands through their hairs at the sa ti.
"Would you like to go ho?" He only realized how stupid the question was until he had already asked it.
"I have no ho. My ho is where my sister is."
"And if I find her for you?"
She smirked.
"Are you going to find out from my uncle?" The sarcasm in her tone challenged him.
She thought he couldn’t do it?
She’ll see her sister before the end of the next day, he said to himself and left the room.
When he was passing by the hall with his guards, his council mbers were walking towards him - not all of them.
"Your Grace, a word, if you will."
He stopped hesitantly.
What did they want again?
Falstaff sketched his usual mock bow, his hands hidden in the sleeves of his silk and satin robes.
"Get on with it."
His curt tone took them aback slightly.
Redmare’s lips thinned.
"Lord Straught is deeply aggrieved since the news of his son’s return reached him."
What Yeren wanted to say was, ’How is that of any concern to ?’, but he only waited for them to stop beating around the bush and get to the point.
"Please permit him to return to Penbrook and reunite with his son. He will be greatly in debt to you if you grant him this single request."
He sighed.
As if the man cared about his son.
Everyone watched him. They even seed to be holding their breaths.
"Release him."
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