“Queen Alyss, my guards have
discovered something I think you should see.”
Her face had relaxed at the sight of him, but her brow at once contracted, her lips thinned with tension. “We’ve found evidence of suspicious activity in the palace,” he said. “What sort of activity?”
“You might want to step this way and see for yourself. I apologize in advance for your having to set foot in a guardsman’s quarters.”
He led her into his rooms. The boyish portrait of Sir Justice, the fire crystals in the hearth, the elegantly arrayed table: Alyss blinked in puzzlement. “What is all this?”
“My best guess, Your Majesty, is that it’s breakfast, but I can’t be sure until we taste it.” Which was when she realized. “Dodge,” she said quietly. A guardsman entered carrying a pair of covered serving dishes, set them on the table and departed. Dodge pulled out a chair for Alyss and, once she was seated, assumed the role of gallant host. “On platter number one,” he said, “we have what I believe is your favorite—Chef Blanchaud’s mysterious hash, which I agree is delicious even if we don’t know what’s in it.” He lifted the cover of the serving dish and steam escaped toward the ceiling. “On platter number two…” he removed the cover of the second dish with a flourish, “…we have half-baked cakes with choco-nibblies.” “Mmm.”
He transferred one of the cakes to her plate, ladled out a spoonful of hash for her and filled her glass with winglefruit juice, then served himself and sat down. “You did all of this?” Alyss asked.
“I wouldn’t even let the walrus help me. And he wanted very much to help.” “It’s all so lovely, Dodge. And delicious.” He watched her cut a small piece of cake with the side of her fork and lift it to her mouth. There were lines under her eyes, silhouetted crescent moons cupping the underside of her eye sockets. “Are you tired?”
“I’m almost always tired.”
He nodded. He had yet to touch his food. “Alyss, do you remember back when we were…I guess I was nine, so you must’ve been six, and we used to play Guardsmen and Maidens?” “I remember everything.”
“We used to make up a lot of games, didn’t we?” “I enjoyed them more than I do the real thing…until now.” “Well…I think you’re old enough now to hear the truth, Alyss. I used to let you win.”
Her face had relaxed at the sight of him, but her brow at once contracted, her lips thinned with tension. “We’ve found evidence of suspicious activity in the palace,” he said. “What sort of activity?”
“You might want to step this way and see for yourself. I apologize in advance for your having to set foot in a guardsman’s quarters.”
He led her into his rooms. The boyish portrait of Sir Justice, the fire crystals in the hearth, the elegantly arrayed table: Alyss blinked in puzzlement. “What is all this?”
“My best guess, Your Majesty, is that it’s breakfast, but I can’t be sure until we taste it.” Which was when she realized. “Dodge,” she said quietly. A guardsman entered carrying a pair of covered serving dishes, set them on the table and departed. Dodge pulled out a chair for Alyss and, once she was seated, assumed the role of gallant host. “On platter number one,” he said, “we have what I believe is your favorite—Chef Blanchaud’s mysterious hash, which I agree is delicious even if we don’t know what’s in it.” He lifted the cover of the serving dish and steam escaped toward the ceiling. “On platter number two…” he removed the cover of the second dish with a flourish, “…we have half-baked cakes with choco-nibblies.” “Mmm.”
He transferred one of the cakes to her plate, ladled out a spoonful of hash for her and filled her glass with winglefruit juice, then served himself and sat down. “You did all of this?” Alyss asked.
“I wouldn’t even let the walrus help me. And he wanted very much to help.” “It’s all so lovely, Dodge. And delicious.” He watched her cut a small piece of cake with the side of her fork and lift it to her mouth. There were lines under her eyes, silhouetted crescent moons cupping the underside of her eye sockets. “Are you tired?”
“I’m almost always tired.”
He nodded. He had yet to touch his food. “Alyss, do you remember back when we were…I guess I was nine, so you must’ve been six, and we used to play Guardsmen and Maidens?” “I remember everything.”
“We used to make up a lot of games, didn’t we?” “I enjoyed them more than I do the real thing…until now.” “Well…I think you’re old enough now to hear the truth, Alyss. I used to let you win.”