A/N: Wow, sorry this took so long. Real life has kept me busy for a long time, but at last here we are! Another reason this has taken a while was because of a review I received containing some well-needed critique on Rose's characterization. I thought about it long and hard and I'm trying to improve it and make her a more realistic, well-rounded character. Granted, she doesn't appear much in this chapter, but in future chapters she will play a much bigger role.


Chapter III: Soldier and Spy

Stupid, stupid, stupid, Elliot cursed himself as he put as much distance between himself and Rose as possible. Stupid to think she'd ever feel like that about you.

He had thought it, though, during these last few months. Elliot had begun to see his princess as something different - or perhaps it was more accurate to say something more, for he still thought of Rose as the best playmate and friend he could wish for. It was just that now he found himself thinking about knights and princesses in another way, too, and Rose was awfully pretty even when she was stealing his clothes and covered in grass and dirt. It was her smile, he'd decided, along with the freckles she'd gotten from the sun last summer that had never quite gone away.

But it didn't matter because she fancied this soldier now. Not surprising; from that story he'd told, he'd acted more like a knight than Elliot ever had. Even if he'd had the opportunity to save Rose from Hobbes, Elliot doubted he could have done it as well. Oh, Walter trained him alongside Rose, and he was a decent swordsman, although his aim with firearms was lamentable. Rose was a better warrior than he was, never mind some mercenary-turned-soldier.

Elliot tried not to mind about Rose being better than him, though. She was the daughter of the Hero Queen, after all. Still, it occurred to him more than once that if she was so strong, then she wouldn't exactly need knights. Or, at least, not knights like him, because even if he worked harder and harder at his training, he would probably never be as good as Rose. Which meant that once they were older and beyond playing, maybe she wouldn't want anything to do with him anymore, and then she'd be married off to some lord, or maybe a prince or king from another land, and he'd never see her again.

The thought made Elliot's chest clench and he bit down hard on his tongue so the pain would ground him and he wouldn't end up crying like a baby. He was a lord, even if only a minor, orphaned one, with a title devoid of lands or riches, and lords did not cry, especially lords whose fathers had been brave warriors.

Elliot sighed and heaved himself up on the wall that encircled the castle gardens, looking out over the city. This morning, worrying about a war had seemed quite enough, but now there was all of this. He wished the soldier had never come to Bowerstone, or at least not come to see Rose. How could he be so at ease and sure of himself, a common soldier speaking with a princess? All right, Rose hardly fit the traditional definition of princess, but even so... Elliot was her best friend and even he got tongue-tied sometimes. Or maybe that was just him. He didn't know.

Although, he realised, there was someone who might.

After having a quick look around the gardens to make sure Rose hadn't followed him - he didn't want her to know about this in case it was all foolish, but all the same his heart sank a little when he realised she hadn't come looking for him. Then again, he had hardly acted like a good friend just now... He'd make it up to her later, even if it meant stomaching that soldier.

When he was sure that the coast was clear, Elliot headed into the castle and up to Rose's chambers, which was where he suspected was the best place to start looking for Jasper. He was old and wise and knew everything, so surely he could help with this. Even though he was distracted by his mission, Elliot noticed that the castle was oddly empty, the servants scurrying around like mice and the few courtiers who remained conferring in corners, their words made secret by low voices and fans held in front of their mouths. It was the most despondent the castle had ever been for as long as Elliot could remember. After the Hero Queen defeated Lucian at the Spire, everyone had thought nothing could go wrong, but now it had and it was made all the worse by not knowing what was wrong. Suppressing a shudder at the possibilities, Elliot hurried up the winding staircase to Rose's tower room and knocked on the door.

Just as he'd hoped, it was answered by Jasper, obviously in the midst of cleaning if his apron and the feather duster in his hand was anything to go by. Thankfully, though, the butler - as always - immediately read the situation correctly.

"Elliot? Is everything all right?"

"Not really," he replied with a shrug. Elliot realised that not thinking about exactly what to say may well have been a pitfall in his plan.

Jasper opened the door further and beckoned him inside. "Ah. This sounds like a conversation we'd be better off having sat down with a cup of tea. As a matter of fact, I was about to do both of those things myself."

Elliot was hustled over to one of the two chairs by the fireplace, which was giving out a cheery flame, and settled with a cup of sweet tea and a biscuit. Jasper did the same in the other chair and gave him a searching look.

"Now, what is it that's making you not really all right?"

The brief delay had not done much to help Elliot form his line of questioning, but he at least had a start. "Uh... Jasper, do you know anything about the soldier than came to see Rose?"

"Private Finn? I heard Major Swift praise him, which is not a light thing coming from such a man."

"He was saying that he saved Rose from Hobbes years ago."

"Ah, yes. You know, I would swear that is the day I went entirely grey once and for all, when I discovered Her Highness had gone off looking for Hobbes. Now, as a rule, I do not approve of mercenaries and sellswords, but if Benjamin Finn had not been there, I shudder to think what might have happened."

Elliot glowered at his tea. "So he was telling the truth? About saving Rose and getting her back and being honoured by the king? Even though the guard could have done it?"

"Yes, and had he been a guard, he no doubt would have been equally honoured. He was simply the right man, in the right place, at the right time."

Huffing, Elliot set his tea and biscuit down on a small table before him. "I bet if he'd been a guard, Rose wouldn't be all... like she's being. Weird. And sucking up."

Jasper gave Elliot a look that made him squirm, sure the old man could see every thought in his head. "Do I detect a modicum of jealousy, Elliot?"

"Why would I be jealous?" Elliot burst out, hands clenching into fists. Part of him had strived to believe that his worries were just that - worries, without basis in reality. But if Jasper thought he had a reason to be jealous...

But Jasper was chuckling, something Elliot was sure he wouldn't do if Rose was actually going to forget about him and fall in love with a soldier.

"Contrary to what you may assume, Elliot, I do actually remember what it is like to be your age," said Jasper. "Growth spurts, the looming approach of your first shave, and realising that the fairer sex is called such for a reason."

Elliot could feel himself blushing and became very interested in the carpet below his dangling feet. "I don't know what you're talking about."

After all, even if he did... well. Rose was a princess. Which he might forget occasionally while they were playing, but he soon remembered again afterwards. Elliot himself might be a lord, but he was old enough to realise he didn't have much going for him in the grand scheme of things. No money, no land, only a minor title... Besides, Logan would probably decide who Rose married. Unless she did run away and become an adventurer. Which she might. When Rose set her mind to something, she generally got her way.

Jasper was watching him closely and Elliot fidgeting under the weight of his gaze.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of in blossoming feelings, Elliot," the old butler said at last. "These things are a perfectly natural part of growing up."

Elliot simultaneously felt his heart lift and his stomach sink, which made for a very odd sensation. If this was natural for him, then... "So Rose is in love with Benjamin Finn?"

Jasper raised his eyebrows a little and Elliot flushed, realising what he'd inadvertently let slip. "No! I mean - I don't - I just - that wasn't fair!"

That just made the old man chuckle, though. "Oh, Elliot, this isn't some sneaky interrogation. And, now I apologise if this sounds patronising, I think, for the moment at least, both you and the princess are a little young to be speaking of love for anyone."

Elliot was just trying to formulate a response to that - it did sound a little patronising, but it was also something of a relief, and yet confusing as well - when one of the last people he had expected to see that day knocked on the door and then, with barely a pause, pushed it open, revealing a royal, if haggard, presence. Rose and he had tried for weeks without success to catch even a passing glimpse of King Logan, but now here he was, and Elliot was suddenly hit by the conviction that the king was here to punish him for upsetting Rose by not appreciating her soldier friend properly, followed by wonder at how the king had found him.

Technically, he was a ward of the king, a tradition started by the Hero Queen, who made sure that any orphan child was well taken care of by passing a law that made them the responsibility of the reigning monarch. Elliot had heard that it was because she had been an orphan, she and the sister who the evil Lord Lucian had murdered, and the streets of Bowerstone had been an awfully cruel place to be an orphan. Sometimes, Elliot wondered if that meant the king was his own ward; he and Rose had no father that anyone knew or spoke of, and surely if he was alive he would have been made regent when the old queen died. That aside, though, Elliot suspected the king didn't even know his name.

Then he remembered he was actually in Rose's room and that King Logan was most likely looking for his sister. This train of thought was backed up by the king's taken-aback expression to see Elliot and Jasper there, but no trace of Rose.

Jasper was already standing and bowing, which Elliot hastened to mimic, and enquiring after His Majesty's health.

"Yes, yes," replied Logan impatiently, waving away the words, eyes scouring the room as though Rose might be hidden in a cupboard. "Where is my sister? I need to speak with her."

"I believe Master Elliot just left her in the kitchens, Your Majesty."

"The kitchens?" The king's tone was exasperated. "Why - no, never mind." For the first time, he glanced at Elliot, and a glimmer of recognition registered in his eyes. "Ah. You. You're Rose's friend, aren't you?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"I thought so. Come with me."

Jasper noticed Elliot's panicked expression and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Your Majesty? May I enquire why...?"

The king looked as though he might snarl at Jasper to mind his own business, but then took a breath and composed himself. "It pertains to what I discussed with Sir Walter and yourself, Jasper. Now, boy, come along. We will go and collect my sister from whatever she is doing."

Elliot cast an appealing look at Jasper, but the butler just squeezed his shoulder encouragingly and then nudged him towards the king. Not wanting to keep King Logan waiting, he took a deep breath and nodded, regretting that he hadn't eaten his biscuit; he doubted it would be good form to munch on it while accompanying the king on something that sounded very important.

As they left the room, the king glanced back over his shoulder and ordered Jasper to start readying things, whatever that meant. Maybe he didn't think Rose's room looked tidy enough, although to Elliot's eyes any part of the castle Jasper was in for any period of time began to almost sparkle with cleanliness.

At first, they walked in silence, the only sound being their footsteps on the flagstones. The king looked in no mood for conversation, and Elliot's mouth felt as if he'd been sucking on cotton. He wished he'd finished his tea, too. It didn't help that the king looked so... harried. Up close, he looked, well, almost ill. He was usually immaculate, but today his clothes were creased, his hair was tousled as if he'd been running his hands through it, and his face was pale apart from the dark circles beneath his eyes. The king looked, in short, as if he had not slept since returning home.

Eventually, though, it occurred to him that perhaps this had something to do with why the king had been closeted away since his return to Albion. Perhaps he had decided to tell Rose what was happening, since she was the princess. Why bring him along, though? Maybe... Maybe the king thought he was important, as Rose's friend! Or... What if something was going to happen to the king? What if some foreign power was going to invade and Rose had to be kept safe so she wouldn't be kidnapped as a hostage or something? Maybe he thought Elliot was capable of helping to keep Rose safe!

The possibilities chased each other around Elliot's head until he thought his skull might burst open. Much as he knew he probably ought to keep quiet, Elliot couldn't keep a lid on his questions; if being around Rose had done anything to him, it had increased his curiosity.

In fact, it might be the perfect peace offering, if he could bring Rose some nugget of news about her brother.

"Your Majesty?" Elliot began tentatively, fighting not to cringe when Logan looked at him. He wasn't a baby; he could hold his own while being respectful. "Is there going to be a war?"

Immediately, he wished he could take the words back; Logan's gaze hardened and, when he spoke, his tone was like a whip. "Who told you that? Who have you been listening to?"

"Nobody! I – I mean, it's just, everyone's saying it, and we - Rose and I - we were worried, and wondering..." Elliot bit down on his lower lip before his babbling got him into even more trouble, but thankfully the king's expression had softened slightly, although it was still stern.

"Gossip." It seemed spoken as much to himself as to Elliot, and the king gave a sharp little nod, as if confirming it to himself. "Now, listen to me. Gossip is a pastime born of idleness and so should not be taken into account by rational minds. You have a rational mind, don't you?"

Elliot nodded quickly. "Yes, Your Majesty."

His reward was a smile - tight and meagre, to be sure, but Elliot counted his blessings, especially when the king looked as strained as he currently did. "Good. That will serve you well in - ah. Do you think, for a while, you are capable of keeping a secret from Rose? For her own good? If not, tell me so, and your honesty won't reflect badly on you."

That gave Elliot pause. He was, of course, desperately curious to know what the king was on the verge of telling him, but at the same time... If Rose smelled a secret, she was as relentless at digging it out as Angus was when faced with a flowerbed. But if she didn't smell it... But could he take the chance? Yes, he decided, he had to. Especially if his thoughts of a minute ago were anything close to the truth. Rose might have thought it a jest, his promise to be her knight, but Elliot took it seriously. He would defend his princess.

"I would do my very best, Your Majesty," he said in the end. "I... I think I could, yes. Especially if it was for Rose's sake. I want to keep her safe."

For a moment, he thought that wasn't enough; that the king would keep whatever secret he had to himself, not trusting Elliot to keep his mouth shut. Something, though - perhaps that he had said he wanted to keep Rose safe - appeared to have convinced him, because he nodded. He didn't speak, though; simply continued leading the way deeper into the castle. It struck Elliot that they were following the route he and Rose had taken countless times over the past two weeks; heading towards the war room. His stomach clenched. Had the king found out? The guards must have told him. Was this just an elaborate cover and he was really going to be punished?

If that was the case, Elliot couldn't deny he'd earned it. He would have to be brave. He would tell the king it had all been his idea and he was the one who had convinced Rose to go along with it. There was little in the world that upset Rose like having the king angry at her, and Elliot would not inflict that on her.

The guards stationed outside the war room stood to attention and saluted at the sight of the king, who nodded at them.

"At ease. Has Sir Walter arrived yet?"

"No, Your Majesty."

The king sighed. "Very well. No doubt he will be along in due time. You," he turned back to Elliot, who remained convinced that the king had no idea what his name was. "In here." Elliot must have looked panicked, because King Logan's lips twitched into something like a smile. "It will take but a moment, and then we will fetch my sister. No need to jump like a scalded cat. I just want to talk to you where we won't be overheard."

Elliot ducked his head, ashamed. "Sorry, Your Majesty." That had been silly of him. It wasn't as if the king was a tyrant. On the contrary, most people praised him highly as a just and fair ruler.

The two guards on either side of the doors held them open for Elliot and the king to enter and Elliot briefly forgot all of his concerns as he looked upon the war room for the first time. He had been quite sure what to expect - trophies, surely, both sparkling and grisly, and old men sitting around, and maps of exotic places papering the walls - but his imagination had apparently been misled. If anything, the war room looked like a perfectly ordinary study. Perhaps a bit messier than most - Elliot noted that there were piles of papers everywhere - but that was all, and the only map was a standing one in the centre of the room that, when he approached it, he saw showed the coast of Albion and... somewhere else. He didn't recognise it.

It was a disappointment, really, and Elliot felt cheated. This didn't look like a place where history was made! He knew better, however, than to voice that opinion.

The king had sat down in an armchair by the fireplace, and motioned for Elliot to take the other. As he did so, he was reminded of how only a few minutes earlier he had been in more or less the same position with Jasper, although that had been a far more comfortable interview.

"There are some," began the king, surveying Elliot over steepled fingers. "Who would say that I should not tell you any of what I intend to. Because you are young, and innocent. I will agree that I wish I could keep all innocence preserved, but that cannot be so, and I myself know that youth is rarely a barrier to understanding. Besides, as my sister's closest confidante, I am sure you would become embroiled in anything related to her anyway, so better to prepare you."

He paused, as if waiting for a response. Elliot wasn't sure what to say, so he settled for a nod and a murmured, "Yes, Your Majesty."

That satisfied him, and he continued. "Rose is going to be sent to the royal summer house soon." Elliot nodded again. That wasn't unusual; Rose and the king often went to Millfields in the summer, although it was intended as a more private and personal time for the small royal family and so their entourage was limited. Elliot himself had never been, hence why he had not witnessed the apparently famous Hobbe incident. "I am going to personally select a household to go with her. People who will keep her safe and..." The king paused, searching for the right word. "...Entertained, shall we say. So she should not become upset at being away from Bowerstone."

There was clearly something afoot here, something more important than a royal summer trip. For a start, the king was speaking as if he would not be accompanying Rose. For another, he seemed to be implying that Rose would be staying for some long, perhaps undecided, period of time at Millfields.

Perhaps there was going to be an invasion, then. It was clear that something was going to happen in Bowerstone that the king wanted to protect Rose from. Elliot glanced at the map that stood in the centre of the room again and wondered if that strange other coast held the enemy.

"Rose trusts you, doesn't she?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And you..." Again, the king was struck by a difficulty in selecting his words. "You have some... influence. Not more than you ought," he added sternly. "But if, say, my sister was struck by some foolish idea, such as, oh..."

"Looking for Hobbes?" Elliot supplied, gratified to see the king chuckle.

"Yes, such as looking for Hobbes. Would you be able to talk her out of it?"

Ah. Rose did generally get her way, but then again, Elliot rarely tried to stop her. Partly out of respect for his princess but, mostly, because she had license to do more or less as she pleased and so rarely got into trouble that would necessitate a cautionary word. But this wasn't about begging seeds off the gardeners, or stealing cakes from the kitchens; this was about keeping Rose safe from things that could kill her. Elliot shivered to think of Rose hurt, much less dead.

If he kept Rose safe, wouldn't he be just as great and grand as Ben Finn? He accepted that Rose would probably be angry in the moment but later, when her temper had cooled, he could talk her around - the king had said he had a rational mind, after all - and then she would realise he had been right, and in any case just looking out for her. Wouldn't he be as dear to her, then, as Ben Finn was?

"Yes," answered Elliot, his face set in determination. "I would. I'd do anything it took to keep Rose safe."

The king smiled. "Then here is what I must ask you to do..."

Some time later Jasper was faced with the task of trying to get his young charge into some manner of formality. This was difficult enough, usually, given what he charitably thought of as Rose's gypsy spirit - or, when charity ran short, her unrelenting bullheadedness - but tonight he also had to deal with an onslaught of questions.

"How did he look, Jasper?"

There was no question of which he Rose was referring to. "His Majesty looked as regal as always, Your Highness."

Rose retaliated to the empty answer by deliberately picking out bright orange slippers that clashed horribly with the blue dress Jasper was trying to coax her into.

More like her mother every day.

"He looked... tired." Jasper admitted grudgingly. "But also happy at the prospect of seeing you."

He wasn't sure, exactly, of what had gone on when the king went to collect Rose from the kitchens and Benjamin Finn, except that he had told the princess she should be at dinner that night. From Rose's temperament when she came to get ready, however, it was clear Logan had not said enough to appease her.

"Hm. Who else is going to be at dinner?"

"Sir Walter, naturally, as well as Major Swift and, I believe, Private Finn has been extended an invitation." Jasper had to smile to see Rose's face light up at that. "I have not seen Elliot since he left with the king, but I suspect he will be there as well. And, of course, there will be Sir Arnold and Lady Hortence and..." He trailed off. Now that she had gotten the information she wanted, Rose had simply ceased paying attention. Oh well, at least she'd swapped the orange slippers for blue ones. Not the same blue as her dress, alas, but Jasper knew that was more to do with Rose's disinterest in matching colours than the underhanded malice of the orange selection.

"Where has Elliot been, anyway? He took off in a huff earlier when I introduced him to Ben." Rose took the blue dress and went behind the screen to change. "I can't think why, Ben was polite enough."

Ah, now here was a dilemma. Should he tell Rose what Elliot had told him, perhaps healing the temporary rift and yet embarrassing the poor lad, or keep his silence and let Elliot work through his thoughts in his own time?

"I believe he may have felt a little... slighted," said Jasper, picking his words carefully.

"That will be my fault, then." For a princess, and a pampered, indulged one, at that, Rose had the virtue of knowing when she had acted badly and could own up to it. "I... Well. I was excited to see Ben. I wasn't expecting it. And, for a moment, I forgot Elliot was there. I didn't mean to."

"That is understandable, Your Highness," Jasper replied truthfully. "Perhaps, after dinner, you could take Elliot to one side to explain yourselves to one another?"

"I will, Jasper. Thank you." Good, one crisis averted. "Do you think my brother will tell everyone what he's been doing at dinner?" ...And another one raising its head. Of course.

"I couldn't say, Your Highness."

"Do you know what's going on, Jasper?"

He did, actually, much as he very nearly wished he didn't. Still, Jasper prized himself on keeping a stiff upper lip; if Walter, of all people, could face this threat with bravado, Jasper would not be reduced to quivering in his buckled butler boots. It was easy to see why the king wanted not a whisper to reach Rose, and why he wanted her out of Bowerstone so soon. Logan might try to stamp out gossip all he liked, but sooner or later it would reach the princess's ears.

"I know that the king has Albion's best interests at heart," he replied, side-stepping the question and preparing himself for the orange slippers again. At least they would only peep out from under the hem... "And he will do nothing without close consideration."

"Why?" Rose's question struck out like a whip. "What's he planning? Tell me, Jasper!"

Light above. Sometimes, it was all too easy to mistake Rose's inattentiveness for ignorance, but she could pick out a needle in a haystack if that needle pertained to her interests.

"Your Highness, I was speaking generally." Jasper strove to make his voice gentle. He was shaken still, and it was showing. He wasn't being careful enough.

"No, you weren't. But I know you won't tell me what you meant. You, Sir Walter, Major Swift," he could picture Rose, dressing abandoned for the moment, counting the collaborator off on her fingers. "You all know what's happening. Not Ben, I don't think, at least not yet. He didn't know anything earlier, I could tell. But the rest of you do. And I'll find out, somehow."

"And go against your brother's express wishes, Rose?" Jasper didn't like to even threaten punishment, much less go through with it, especially when he could understand and appreciate the princess's frustration, but in this case there was too much at stake. This was not in any way a matter for children. "Shall I tell him you won't be at dinner?"

Silence from the other side of the screen.

"Rose?"

"Oh, fine!" she snapped. The tone told him just how angry Rose was; she was generally slow to anger and quick to forgive, even quicker to make herself agreeable to Logan's wishes. "Have it that way. I won't ask you."

Doubtless she would ask others - but, so far, there were no others who could tell her anything, and she would be well away from Bowerstone, Light be good, before gossip started in earnest. Perhaps he ought to speak with Rose's tutors about keeping her more occupied; they usually relaxed lessons as summer approached, appreciating a child's wish to be outside in the sun, but Rose's spare time was more often than not spent with the servants, who would hear snippets of conversation as they brought supplies to the war room.

"I hope you realise, Rose, that nobody is trying to spite you."

"I'm the princess. I should know."

"Oh? Wasn't it just this morning you said, as princess, you shouldn't be troubled with the problems of the realm?"

That stumped her, but only for a moment. "Well. I've changed my mind. I want to learn about everything, so that one day I can help Logan."

"Then I shall inform your tutors of your newfound dedication first thing in the morning," replied Jasper, neatly closing the trap. "Now, how are you going with that gown, Your Highness?"

Having won the round, he was willing to overlook the distinctly Walter-like discourse the princess began to mumble under her breath.

Ben was nervous. As a country boy by birth, he usually was around people who had the power to have his head stricken off at a moment's notice. It wasn't so much that he didn't think he ought to eat dinner with the king and his closest friends, but he wasn't sure why Logan himself thought so. Swift had hinted that there was something big going on, though the details were not for him to hear yet. That was worse, surely, than whatever the details were; the not knowing. But Swift had orders and Ben had been a soldier long enough now to understand orders, especially those coming from the king himself, were not to be questioned.

So he put on his dress uniform, tried to ignore how ridiculous it made him look - he was, surely, wearing more silk braid than any reasonable man ought to - and, reluctantly, left off his weapons. He always felt naked without at least a pistol or knife, but Swift had pointed out that his discomfort would be all the greater if he carried weapons around a king who, not to speak ill of the monarch of course, looked nervous enough as it was.

Oh well. With any luck, he'd be sat by Rose and could spend the meal telling her an altered account of the past year or so, and maybe see if he could somehow indicate that, although her friend had been a complete plonker earlier, it was in a way that he, Ben, along with every other male on the planet, could appreciate.

It was almost funny, how he was nervous of a man who was only his own age. That was about the only similarity between himself and the king, though, which brought him back to the question of why he had been invited. Still, Logan liked to do things by the book; he was unfailingly formal and polite. Maybe it was just that he'd thought it would be bad form not to dine with the man who had once saved his sister's life.

To top it all off, to make sure he wasn't late he'd gone too far the other way and now had about half an hour to kill before his presence was required. Well, maybe he could make a start on the book the other lads in the regiment were always telling him to write...

Of course, just as an idea for something productive to do entered his mind, the opportunity was snatched away by a knock at the door. Upon pulling it open, Ben found himself faced with one of the king's pages.

"His Majesty requests your presence, sir."

Oh, fuck, what had he done now? He hadn't even left his room... "Dinner already?"

"No, sir. This is a private audience."

"What for?"

"I couldn't say."

Ben hated that phrase. It was supposed to mean I don't know but instead gave the impression of I know, but I want to see you squirm. Well, he wouldn't give this messenger the pleasure. Drawing himself up to his full height - not that it took much, unfortunately - Ben gave the page what he hoped looked like a suitably imperious nod.

"Lead the way, then."

At least, Ben thought as he was led through winding corridors, he wasn't leaving any family behind.

In the end, though, he apparently needn't have worried. The room he was led to seemed to be some kind of private study and as the page announced him, the king was just setting aside a pile of papers.

"Ah, Private Finn, I'm glad you're here."

He hadn't exactly had much choice, but in Ben's limited exposure to monarchs - well, actually, just this particular monarch - you were supposed to act like requests weren't actually orders, even while treating them as such. The army had given him a good baseline for how to act around superiors, though; he stood at parade rest, hands clasped behind his back.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"There is something I wish to discuss with you. A proposal, if you will." The king raised an eyebrow ever so slightly at his posture. "Do sit down."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The armchair that was placed before the king's desk was comfortable and supportive, but Ben remained as tense as if it had been a torture implement. A proposal. What the bloody hell could a king have in mind for Ben Finn?

"I recall that you once did myself and my sister a great service, out of nothing beyond your sense of honour."

That was more or less right, actually. Ben appreciated money wherever he found it, but he tried - Bloodstone notwithstanding - to make sure he was the sort of man he could face in the mirror every morning.

"Well, it's my duty to serve the Crown and its people, Your Majesty."

"Indeed. This is why I am sure the task I have in mind for you will suit your tastes."

There it was, the royal command. Already down from "proposal" to "task", which was just another word for "order". Not that Ben had really expected to be able to turn whatever it was down, anyway.

"In a fortnight, my sister will be travelling to the royal summer house at Millfields," continued the king. "You are familiar with it, of course. I wish for her to be surrounded by people she can trust. People I can trust. Who will watch after her carefully and keep her safe."

It was becoming slightly clearer now and Ben began to hope things wouldn't be as bad as he had expected.

"A personal guard, Your Majesty?"

"Precisely." The king seemed pleased he had grasped the concept so quickly. "Yes, exactly so. Given your... experience, shall we say, and your discipline acquired at the experienced hands of Major Swift, I would place you in charge of the Princess's guard. The post would, naturally, come with a wage I think you will find agreeable, and your own set of chambers wherever the princess should be housed."

A bodyguard. Ben kept his spine impeccably straight but allowed himself mentally to relax. This he could do. Bodyguard work had been his bread and butter when he was a mercenary and Rose would be a better, easier charge than the insufferable travelling merchants and snotty nobles he'd worked for then. Especially with a so-called "agreeable" wage. Light knew he enjoyed being a soldier, but the pay was horrific. Heh! What had he been so worried about?

"Understood, Your Majesty. The princess will be safe under my watch, I promise you."

"I should hope not, Private, for any scratch that should come to my sister will be repaid tenfold onto those who should have prevented it." The king's voice remained low, pleasant; paradoxically, it made his words all the more chilling than if he'd raged. Task delegated and threat delivered, he was already looking back towards the papers he'd been looking through when Ben entered the room. "You may go. I will see you at dinner. Oh, and - mention not a word of this to my sister. I will inform her of the arrangements when the time is right."

Ben nodded stiffly and tried to remember how his legs worked. Bloody hell, of course it had been too good to be true; just as Ben was swallowing the carrot, out came not just a stick but an iron rod.

"Majesty," he croaked out, managing to get to his feet and give a shaky bow, before retreating from the room as quickly as he could.

So quickly, in fact, that he almost backed straight into someone, given the high-pitched gasp and outcry of, "Do you mind-oh! Is that... is that you, Benjamin Finn?"

Turning quickly on the spot, Ben's first impression was of a mass of ice-cream trimmed with lace. A moment later it formed more cohesively into a woman of about forty-something, cinched into a high tea confection of a dress and a towering, powdered wig. How did some poncy noblewoman know him? Had he escorted her somewhere once?

"Hmph. Don't tell me you forgot me? For shame. And here I thought you were a gallant man." The woman sniffed theatrically and brought up a feathered fan to hide her face, as though to shield her tears. The overly-dramatic gesture prompted something in his memory and a night about five years ago came rushing back.

"Ah-oh-uh," he stammered. "Hortence?"

Ben didn't make a habit out of sleeping with the wives of his employers. It was usually bad for one's health. Hortence, though, despite being a bit older, had been very... welcoming. Very welcoming. And it had just been the one night, but - well, what a night.

She lowered her fan and smirked at him just the way she had that night, slipping her arm through his. "There we go. Now, you simply must escort me to dinner, since I am abandoned here."

Abandoned was probably the last word for it. If Ben's suspicions were right, she'd probably been lurking since he was called in to see the king. Ah, well, never look a gift horse in the mouth.

"It would be my pleasure, m'lady."

"I thought it might." Hortence giggled - but, as soon as they turned a corner and were out of sight of the guards stood outside Logan's study, she leaned in close to him, close enough for him to smell her flowery perfume. "Well? What did he have to say?"

"Should I be telling you the king's business?"

"Oh, phooey. My husband might have his faults-" Among them, if Ben remembered rightly, a lack of imagination in the bedroom, "-But he knows how to play his cards, he has the king's ear. Rightly so, really, he's a solid fellow. But if you won't tell me, shall I guess? It's about the princess, isn't it?"

"Might be," replied Ben cautiously, the tenfold scratches hanging over his head.

"I knew it!" Hortence was triumphant, her wig wobbling precariously. "You're being assigned to her guard, aren't you? I suspect everyone attending this dinner is, in some way or another. Oh, don't give me that look," she added, batting him with her fan when he showed reasonable incredulity at the prospect of Hortence Chalmers protecting anybody. "I'm her governess, you know, and I'm not entirely a lady of leisure. Arnie is going to be in charge of her household - the overall thing, I mean, I'm sure her butler, Jasper, is going to do the day-to-day looking after of things, and I'll be one of her teachers. You'll be her bodyguard, I think?"

It was possible that she was bluffing to get information out of him, but the ramble was too detailed, to Ben's mind, to be made up on the spot, so he nodded. "Yeah, I'm in charge of making sure she doesn't run off a cliff or anything."

"You say that as a joke, but you know, she just might - show the princess something interesting, and she'll be off. The king probably thinks Millfields is dull enough to keep her out of trouble, but there's the old gypsy camp nearby, such ruffians, and of course everyone always says there are balverines in that forest nearby..."

"There are," confirmed Ben. "I've fought 'em off before. Don't worry, I'll keep her out of there."

"Thank Light. You're going to have your work cut out, though."

"Don't I know it. What does she usually do with her time?"

"Lessons, of course, although it's a trial getting her to pay attention for five minutes together. Oh, the princess is intelligent enough, but she's more interested in playing hero with Sir Walter than history and geography and everything else she needs to know. For the rest of it, like I said, she's with Sir Walter - calls it hero training, though I can't blame her really, with the precedent set, you know - or that friend of hers, Elliot. Lovely boy, so charming. She likes to play, as much with servants as with people of her own status, though I'll grant you there are far too few children around the castle. Most of the time, it's just her, the boy, and her dog. Poor girl. It's a shame, you know, that there's such a gap between her and her brother; he's more a father than a playmate."

Ben had forgotten just how much Hortence could go on when she had someone to gossip to, but he wasn't about to complain. This was the sort of thing he needed to know, and here it was being handed to him on a silver platter.

"Sounds like her," he agreed. "She was saying to me, earlier, that she wanted to go off and be an adventurer."

Hortence rolled her eyes. "Yes, that does surface from time to time. Still. Her mother, you know. I suppose it's natural enough."

"I can see her fighting off monsters and treasure hunting." Not that she would be, under his watch.

Hortence seemed to read his thoughts. "She's not going to enjoy this summer, though, is she? I suppose Logan told you the same thing he told my husband?"

"What, about the tenfold scratches?"

"Is that how he put it?" Hortence giggled. "Oh, don't worry too much. He's not a tyrant. He's just worried for his sister - she's all he has, after all. And I'm sure you'll do your job admirably... Private Finn, isn't it, now?"

"I don't even know if I'm still in the army now," he confessed.
"Well, I will continue to call you Private Finn. It's so... distinguished."

Good God, she could still make him stir. Alas, here they were at the dining room. Hortence squeezed his arm one last time and winked.

"Perhaps I'll see you later, Private. For now, adieu."

Don't do it, he told himself. Don't. Don't even think about it. You won't get away with it again. Especially not in Millfields, where you'll all be in one house. Her husband isn't that stupid. Better to ready your defences now.

At least, as he had hoped, he was seated far away from the head of the table. Far, as well, from Rose, who was sat by the king, but Elliot was across from him and Hortence a few seats too far away for chatter. Ben winked at the boy and, although Elliot didn't smile, at least he didn't scowl, either. Swift caught his eye and gave him a meaningful look and covert whisper - "How did it go?" - and Sir Walter grinned at him.

Tenfold scratches aside, Ben considered he hadn't gotten off too badly.