The Unfortunate, стр. 41

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

BEADUROF

Three days. That is how long Beadurof had been in Ebordum, and by then he had been more than anxious to return to Armania. The displeasure had not been due to a lack of hospitality, though. The leader of Yorcia had outdone himself. Beadurof had been greeted with a fanfare upon his arrival. He had been ushered through the streets aside King Ryce as if they were conquering heroes. Numerous tournaments had been held, each having included a different variety of spectacles. And in the evening, a banquet had been held at Ebordum Keep, the first of three, to celebrate not only the upcoming marriage between Banan and Eadlin but also the lasting bonds between the two kingdoms. Despite the excessive hospitality and what it had ultimately represented, however, the king of Armania had become tired of the never-ending excitement.

But he had experienced enough by the evening of his first day. To him the visit had been nothing special. To him the daily games and evening banquets had been nothing more than a waste of time. He did not even want to attend the third night’s banquet, but King Ryce, nevertheless, insisted, “Come. It is your final night. I shall not have you leave without having been entertained.”

Have I not experienced enough excitement? But rather than answering with outbursts, Beadurof forced a smile, simply nodded, and followed his host into the hall, cursing himself and cursing Ryce with each step.

The hall was bountiful with joy. Everywhere there was laughter and cheer, dancing and song. Beadurof, however, took no part. He instead remained at the head table—minding his own business, not initiating conversation with anyone unless spoken to first. Even then his response was the briefest acknowledgement, a return smile or even a chuckle, but it had been a mere act. Nothing could alter his inner mood. Nothing.

Midway through the meal, King Ryce stood and announced, “My friends, for the prior two days, via games and banquets, we have celebrated the past and present relations between Yorcia and Armania, but tonight we turn to the future.”

The crowd was quick to acknowledge their king with applause and cheers.

“The future can indeed be uncertain,” Ryce continued, boasting a broad smile, as he devoured the attention. “There will indeed be unforeseen events beyond our control, but that which is certain is our future is promising. Yorcia and Armania have never been closer, and those bonds will be strengthened further by the marriage between my daughter and King Beadurof’s son.”

The supper crowd again answered with cheers and thunderous applause.

“Eadlin’s and Banan’s union will solidify our people’s relations.”

More thundering applause.

“And with Fate’s blessing, they will bear a son who will continue a legacy of greatness!” Ryce paused, retrieved his goblet, and gestured toward his daughter and the king of Armania. “To Eadlin and Banan. Long may their lives be.”

“Long may their lives be,” the crowd echoed in unison.

As the cheers lingered, Beadurof glanced at the princess who sat beside him, and he offered her a nod. As Banan’s representative it was the least he could do to ease the situation and to lessen the uncertainty of an arranged marriage. But it was not as if he believed Eadlin would have refused to marry his son. Why would she refuse an heir prince? She would never … could never.

The princess smiled meekly before looking away, but it had been more than enough.

She is indeed beautiful. Although the king’s acknowledgement, a simple nod, had been nothing more than a courtesy to the woman he would soon call his daughter, Beadurof wanted it to be different. He momentarily despised his son for the fortune that had befallen him. If Banan is content to settle for a serving wretch, he does not deserve Eadlin.

Another glance, this time slightly longer. There was a radiance about the young woman that captivated Beadurof—an unexplainable quality that toyed with him, one he could not resist. He was like the moth and she the flame. He had to force himself to look away. No! I cannot … will not! I have sworn my love to Marlisa. But despite the attempt to scold himself, Beadurof could feel his head beginning to turn. NO! The king continued to struggle with his emotions, but his attention was quickly altered when a servant entered the great hall, approached the head table, and bowed to Ryce before handing the king a letter.

Even though he had spent the entire evening trying to ignore others, Beadurof was not able to avert his attention. From the servant’s behavior, it was apparent some news of considerable importance had arrived. But based on the actions of the other guests, Beadurof was the only one who sensed, or noticed for that matter, the apparent urgency.

No one else regarded the servant. Even when the leader of Yorcia exhaled deeply, no one appeared to notice. King Ryce again sighed, this time with even more discontent, before eventually thanking the servant. He then waited for the man to leave before looking to Beadurof, his expression stern, his complexion pale.

Dark news awaited. The king of Armania could sense it. The heaviness was stifling because he knew it likely involved him, too.

“I have received most unpleasant news,” King Ryce informed in a hushed yet stern tone. “We need to speak privately.”

✽ ✽ ✽

Ryce did not wait for the door of his study to be shut before speaking. “What is your opinion of the king of Drunacht?”

Beadurof had not known what to expect. He certainly had not anticipated he would have been asked about his relationship with Drunacht, and he did not know what to make of the inquiry, but he eventually managed to reply, “Power hungry. For