was singing it at breakfast this morning,” Frederic said.
“I said most people,” Liam said. “My point is that it’s about time we went out there and started redeeming ourselves. And if you’re going to come adventuring with me again, I need to know you can handle yourself in a fight. Swords up.”
Liam took a fencing stance and waited for Frederic to do the same.
“We should at least go back to the training room,” Frederic said. “I think this hallway has probably seen enough action for one day.” (This was, without doubt, the most excitement ever experienced in that particular corridor. Previously, the most suspenseful thing to have happened there was when two footmen hunted down a lost cuff link. It took them forty-seven seconds to find it.)
“You worry too much, Frederic,” Liam said.
Frederic sighed and lifted his blade. “All right, but I want to state for the record that—eek!”
Liam took several quick swipes at Frederic, and—much to everyone’s delight—Frederic managed to block them all. He had a giddy smile on his face as he whipped his sword back and forth to knock away each of his friend’s attacks. And then his father showed up.
“What on earth is going on here?” King Wilberforce barked as he strode down the hallway.
The sound of that deep baritone voice completely broke Frederic’s concentration. “Father,” he blurted, and turned his head at just the wrong moment. The tip of Liam’s blade sliced across Frederic’s cheek. Frederic yelped, dropped his weapon, and brought his hand up to cover the wound.
“I’m so sorry!” Liam gasped.
“Are you okay?” Ella called, running to her fiancé.
The king marched up to them in a fury, dozens of medals jingling on his chest with every stomping footstep. “What have you done to my son?”
“It was an accident,” Liam sputtered.
“It’s just a scratch, Father,” Frederic said. He checked his fingertips, relieved to see only the slightest dot of red. If there had been any more blood, he would likely have lost his composure—which he did not want to do in his father’s presence. “And frankly, it would never have happened if you hadn’t yelled and distracted me.”
“What did I do to deserve such disrespect?” King Wilberforce said, sounding appalled. “I, ruler of this realm, see my only son being assaulted by some hooligan and demand that the violence come to a stop. For this I deserve scorn?”
“Some hooligan, Father?” Frederic asked. “Liam’s been living with us for almost a year.”
“I know who he is,” the king said with disdain. “A supposed Prince Charming in exile from his own people, hated the world over because of the horrid manner in which he treated his Sleeping Beauty. A man to whom I have—against my best instincts—offered nothing but hospitality. And a hooligan who repays my kindness by fileting my son.”
“Your Highness,” Liam said. “I appreciate all the kindness you have offered me. And as I’ve tried to explain before, the rumors about me and Briar Rose are untrue. She spread those lies to get back at me because I refused to marry her. And surely you know I never meant to hurt Frederic. I was merely—”
“Oh, I know you probably didn’t intend to hurt him,” Wilberforce said. “But that’s the problem with you. You think Frederic can do things that he simply can’t. Putting my son in harm’s way appears to be a hobby for you. Are you going to deny that you almost got Frederic killed in that whole unfortunate witch fiasco?”
Liam said nothing. Nor did Frederic, who, if he were a turtle, would have slipped happily into his shell at that moment.
Fig. 3 King WILBERFORCE
The king looked down his nose at the three friends. “There will be no more swordplay within these walls,” he stated. “Or anywhere on palace grounds, for that matter.”
“But, Father,” Frederic began.
“Sir,” Liam stepped in. “Frederic is getting quite . . .” He couldn’t bring himself to say “good.” “Well, he’s improving. With more training, he could—”
“There will be no more training!” Wilberforce snapped. His perfectly groomed mustache quivered as he spoke, and a fleck of saliva hit a purple silk ribbon on his chest, leaving a tiny wet spot the likes of which no one had ever before seen on any king of Harmonia. “Push me too far, Erinthian, and I won’t hesitate to revoke the invitation I have so graciously extended to you. If I see you—any of the three of you—with a weapon in your hand, I will have you forcibly removed. Not just from my palace, but from the entire kingdom of Harmonia.” Wilberforce spun on his heels and marched down the hall. “Frederic, get to the nurse immediately,” he added as he left. “Make sure that horrible gash doesn’t scar.”
Frederic slumped down and sat on the edge of the philodendron pot. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Ella said, sitting next to him. She put her arm around him and gave a tight squeeze. “You did nothing wrong. And, hey, any time you need me to jump in and help out against Old King Grumpy-pants, just say the word.”
“Thanks, Ella,” Frederic said, resting his head on her shoulder. “You’re very sweet.”
Liam looked away. Sensing his discomfort, Frederic stood up.
“I’m just embarrassed by the whole thing,” he said. “I’m going to bed early. You two have fun.” He hurried down the hall, leaving Ella and Liam alone.
Liam opened a pair of glass doors and strolled out onto an ornate marble balcony. “I shouldn’t be here,” he sighed, watching the quickly setting sun. “I’ve outstayed my welcome.”
“But you can’t go back to Erinthia,” Ella said, joining him outside. She looked at Liam in the warm glow of the lanterns that were being lit all along the palace grounds below. He was almost ridiculously perfect as the image of a hero: mocha-tan complexion, piercing green eyes, chiseled cheekbones, a fashionable cape and lustrous black hair, both billowing behind him in the late-spring breeze. He was standing, as he often did, with his hands on his hips and his head turned to one side, as if he were waiting for some invisible sculptor to carve a statue of him. It was the kind of thing Ella usually enjoyed teasing him about, but she was too concerned to joke around.
“I mean, you still don’t want to marry Briar Rose, right?” she asked.
“Do you really have to ask that question?” Liam replied. Princess Briar Rose of Avondell, to whom he’d been betrothed since the age of three, was quite possibly the worst person he’d ever met (and Liam had met a lot of nasty people, including a witch who wanted to explode him in front of a live audience). But no one in Liam’s kingdom of Erinthia (except his little sister, Lila) seemed to care about his happiness—they only cared about Avondell’s vast network of gold mines, which Erinthia would have access to once Liam married Briar. Now, understand that the Erinthian people were plenty rich already—but they’d always been second best next to Avondell. And when you’re as greedy and petty as the average Erinthian, second place isn’t
