Royalty

The royal guards slammed open the tavern door with a force that left it shaking. They scanned the room with an air of superiority and hostility. The mixed crowd only drew their hoods and cowls further over their faces. Most of the patrons of the Inky Karp were notorious in their own ways.  “Alright everyone, listen up.” The decorated soldier called, and the tavern quieted, tension rising in the air and filling the room with the sticky scent of fear. “You know who we’re looking for, and we know she’s here. So unless each one of you wants to spend a night in the dungeon, you’ll point us in her direction.”  As one, the tavern turned its attention to the barkeep - a big bear of a man that was busy cleaning mugs. He eyed the room, and the tension rising within it, knowing full well that this tavern full of pick-pockets, thieves and assassins could easily take the 3 guards. But what would be the cost?  He sighed and gestured to me with his head. I downed the last few sips of the pale, honeyed mead before gracefully sliding off the patchwork leather stool. At the sight of my face the guards unanimously dropped to a knee, their heads bowed respectfully.  “Your highness! The King was deeply troubled by your vanishing, and requested you return home at once.” The eldest of the Knights commented, almost perfecting the script they had come to use.  Sparing a glance for the wary tavern goers I saw the moment they recognised me as less of a friend and more of a target. Fine. It was going to be like was it? Squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin.  “Let’s go home then boys, shall we?” I touched one of the guards - one of my regulars. He rose with a lopsided grin, tucking my arm in the crease of his elbow. I turned one last look at the innkeeper, flashing him a brilliant smile before tossing him a handful of the gold coins tucked into my riding pants.  It would be more than the man would see for the next few months combined. He raised an eyebrow wordlessly, sending daggers at the hungry looks of the gathered rogues before depositing the coins firmly in the front pocket of his pants.  The resulting groans and idle chit-chat resumed as the palace guards escorted me back towards the looming castle. I had come further this time than my last daring escape, hoping they wouldn’t guess, that they wouldn't dare believe their darling princess would deigned to dwell upon the cut-throats and rapscallions.  “Princess Cassandra, you promised us no more of this.” The withered face of the captain of the guard approached from a side alley, falling in to replace the guard beside me. If not for the fact he was middle-aged and balding slightly, the captain would almost be handsome and roguish, with the scar that marred his face from brow to cheek, missing his golden eye by barely a hairsbreadth.   A bear he said, but always refused to tell the tale.  I almost felt bad for the captain. He was getting far too old for the antics of a young woman who lived in a gilded cage. But as I was about to apologise a flash of steel grey eyes burning with hatred seared into my mind causing me to recoil from the kindness of the captain's gaze.  “I’m sorry captain, but I don’t remember ever asking for your input.” He searched my gaze a moment longer, looking for the little girl that used to beg him to piggybacks and story time, and found only cold, unyielding ice.  “Of course your Highness, I apologise for my intrusion.” He bowed his head briefly and melted back into the shadows, always nearby, ensuring my safety as was his foremost duty.  The footmen at the doors of the castle recognized the approaching escort as their own and pulled open the large wooden doors. A messenger stood just off the side, invisible except for the silver tray and cream parchment. I eyed them both suspiciously. When I left my father was in no condition to write any letters.  “An emissary for Jutern arrived a few moments ago, mistress. He’s waiting in the receiving room for your father, and left this note should you arrive before the King..” The servant coughed unceremoniously and I rolled my eyes.  “Before the King sobers up?” The messenger paled, his eyes searching the closed doors behind me, as if the guest beyond the doors could hear us.  I held out my hand, carefully unsealing the formal letter and allowed my eyes to scan the parchment quickly, my heart racing with each word and red hot anger searing behind my eyes.