Chapter 49: A Perfectly Legal Excuse to Kill Me

Chapter 49. A Perfectly Legal Excuse to Kill Me

Garr, unfortunately, didn’t seem interested in returning the courtesy.

His eyes remained fixed on me.

I could almost hear his teeth grinding from across the hall.

Ah, Garr Holt.

Of all my former comrades, he and Rey had gotten along the least.

And that was saying something, considering Darius had apparently considered Rey’s commoner origins a personal insult to the natural order of the universe.

Garr’s problem was simpler.

He was a warrior.

A descendant of a celebrated hero whose family had once saved the kingdom. He’d grown up hearing stories about his ancestor’s legendary victories, inherited a famous name, and carried an enormous sword that probably required its own bedroom.

By every measure Garr cared about, he should’ve been the most celebrated member of our party.

Then Rey Valen happened.

A commoner.

A man with no heroic bloodline, no noble house, and no ancestral portrait hanging above a fireplace.

And, inconveniently, the most powerful member of the Five Heroes.

Rey’s name had spread across the kingdom faster than anyone else’s.

Elia came next. Being the Saintess of the Light Temple did wonders for one’s reputation.

Darius had the whole knight-in-shining-armor business going for him. The ladies adored him. The nobles approved of him. His armor probably had admirers of its own.

Raven was mysterious.

People loved mysterious.

A masked assassin lurking in the shadows was apparently more fascinating than a warrior who could split a boulder in half.

Which left Garr.

Last.

I almost felt sorry for him.

Because rather than accepting that reputation wasn’t hereditary, he’d decided Rey was the problem.

A perfectly reasonable conclusion, if your brain was made of the same material as your sword.

Garr drew a slow breath.

His shoulders straightened.

The displeasure vanished from his face, replaced by a stiff smile.

"I see," he said. "I expected no less from our Royal Magus."

A little late, but credit where credit was due.

King Aldric looked between us. Then smiled. "I expect nothing from any of you beyond the safety of our people and peace throughout the kingdom." He gestured toward the banquet. "Now, enjoy yourselves."

I stared at him.

Damn.

This king was a good guy.

He simply wanted everyone safe.

What a refreshingly reasonable ambition.

Garr bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."

And, for once in his life, he took the advice.

He stepped away from the throne.

I watched him go.

One problem handled.

Now, where was the food, again?

"Rey?"

I turned.

Elia stood beside Darius, her hands clasped neatly before her.

Her expression was gentle.

Almost hesitant.

"Since we’re here," she began, "would you mind if I examined your curse again?"

I said nothing.

"Just to make sure you’re all right," she continued. "We could resume your healing."

Resume?

What an interesting word.

It implied something had been ongoing.

Something she hadn’t abandoned.

I remembered Rey kneeling beside his bed, black veins spreading across his skin while he struggled to breathe.

I remembered the pain in those memories.

The helplessness.

The way he’d called her name.

And the silence afterward.

Elia looked at me expectantly.

I set my wineglass down. "It’s too late for that." My voice came out colder than I’d intended, and I had no desire to soften it.

Elia’s expression faltered. "Rey, I—"

I met her eyes. "I don’t need you anymore."

Darius shifted beside her. "Now, Rey—"

I turned away.

He could finish that sentence with the nearest wall.

I had somewhere else to be.

Ariel stood near one of the banquet tables.

And Garr was approaching her.

Another reason Garr had never particularly liked Rey.

Ariel Nerelle.

The Mermaid Princess.

My gentle, beautiful first wife.

When the five tribes had offered their princesses in marriage, the women had been given a choice among the heroes.

All five had chosen Rey.

Every. Single. One.

Garr had taken that remarkably poorly.

Especially Ariel’s decision.

He’d apparently fancied her long before the marriages were arranged.

Unfortunately for him, being a warrior wasn’t particularly useful in a battle beneath the sea.

A magus capable of manipulating water and ice?

Much more practical.

Rey had fought beside Ariel in her own territory.

He’d protected her people.

And she’d chosen him.

Garr considered that unfair.

I considered it a compelling argument for learning to swim.

I made my way toward them.

As I drew closer, I caught the end of Garr’s conversation.

"—if Rey treats you wrongly, you can come to me."

Oh?

I slowed.

Garr stood before Ariel with his chest puffed out, one hand resting near the hilt of his sword.

"I’ll teach him a lesson."

I nearly laughed.

So.

He’d heard about the marks.

The bruises on Ariel’s neck.

The restraints around her wrists.

Information my enemies had collected without understanding what had actually happened.

And now Garr had apparently decided to become her gallant rescuer.

How touching.

Ariel’s smile had disappeared.

She looked uncomfortable.

That was enough.

I stepped beside her."What lesson, Garr?"

He turned.

His mouth curved into a smirk.

Unlike Darius, Garr didn’t bother hiding his contempt beneath six layers of courtesy. At least that was something I could respect. "You know what I mean, peasant."

Ariel stiffened.

My smile remained. "Peasant?" I tilted my head. "I thought we were equals."

Garr scoffed. "The Dark Lord is dead." His voice dropped. "Your job is done. So you’re back to being what you were."

I looked at him. "What about you?"

His brow furrowed. "What?"

"Your family was once commoner, too." I took a leisurely step closer. "You inherited your reputation because an ancestor saved this kingdom."

Garr’s jaw tightened. "Watch your mouth."

"But that’s strange, isn’t it?" I smiled. "Your family became noble because someone in your bloodline accomplished something extraordinary."

I gestured toward myself. "I helped defeat the Dark Lord." A pause. "Yet somehow, you think your ancestor’s achievements make you superior to me."

Garr’s face darkened.

I leaned in slightly. "Tell me, Garr. How many generations does it take before saving the kingdom starts counting?"

Ariel touched my sleeve.

A gentle touch.

Barely there.

But I felt it.

I glanced down.

She was looking at me with concern.

That did something unpleasantly warm to my chest.

I covered her hand with mine.

Her expression softened.

Garr noticed.

His gaze dropped to our joined hands. Then returned to my face. "You think you’re better than everyone because you can cast a few spells?"

"No." I smiled. "I think I’m better at casting spells."

Ariel made a tiny sound.

Suspiciously close to a laugh.

Garr heard it.

His expression became even uglier.

I’d managed to offend him and amuse my wife in the same breath.

A skill every researcher should cultivate.

"Rey," Garr warned.

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

His fingers curled around his sword’s hilt.

Several nearby guests noticed.

Conversation faltered.

Ariel’s hand tightened around mine.

I didn’t move.

Garr was standing in the king’s banquet hall.

Surrounded by nobles.

In front of witnesses.

And his hand was on his sword because a commoner had reminded him how hereditary titles worked.

Please. Draw it.

Give King Aldric a reason to ask why one of his celebrated heroes was threatening the Royal Magus at his birthday celebration.

Garr stared at me.

I smiled back.

Then Ariel stepped closer and slipped her arm through mine.

"Lord Garr," she said softly.

He looked at her immediately.

Her voice remained gentle. "I appreciate your concern."

His shoulders eased.

For approximately one glorious second, he looked hopeful.

Then she smiled.

"But my husband treats me very well. I’ve never been happier."

Her cheek brushed my shoulder.

Garr went still.

I looked down at Ariel.

She looked up at me. And smiled.

A sweet, affectionate smile that made me want to kiss her senseless in the middle of the banquet.

Terrible idea for noble etiquette.

Excellent motivation to burn Garr with jealousy.

I lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles instead.

Her cheeks turned pink.

Behind us, someone whispered.

Garr looked as though he’d just bitten into a lemon.

I gave him my most gracious smile. "Anything else?"

He said nothing.

Then he smirked.

That expression was never a good sign.

"Your Majesty!" Garr suddenly called out.

Several conversations stopped. I turned toward the throne, wondering what fresh stupidity he’d decided to unleash.

"Rey has requested a friendly hunt between us!"

Garr’s smirk widened. "He says he wants to prove that all those rumors about him are wrong! I hope you’ll give him the chance!"

The surrounding nobles turned toward me.

I stared at Garr.

Ah, wonderful.

I was getting bored with all this courtesy anyway.

And I’d been itching for an excuse to go all out.