Giving up on finding anything inside, Reed returned to the patio as he contemplated how to word his report to the queen. Dealing with Mythiric nobility was dodgy at best and hazardous at worst. He’d not had much reason to speak to the king and queen, so he wasn’t sure how they preferred their asses to be kissed. Reed fixed his gaze on the wet spot where Solace had landed. The water clover had not fully recovered from getting sat on.

Patrick had followed him out to continue speaking to him.

"Honestly, this sounds like the setup to a cliché story,” Reed told his vice-captain.

“Wait, you know how to read?” Patrick scoffed, taking the bait and letting Reed lighten the mood.

“Of course I know how to read! I’ve read a whole two books! A Cat’s Tail is my favorite.” He grinned.

Patrick chuckled. “So, how do you mean a cliché story?”

Reed shrugged. “This feels like the setup to a dumb romance with a side of political intrigue. Son of the archduke and the rightful prince, fighting over the throne and the love of a woman. Next thing you know, there’s going to be a ballroom confrontation scene, and somebody throws wine.”

“That doesn’t sound like a plot I’ve read before,” Patrick said.

He’d read plenty of that genre. But that had been back on Earth. Reed curled his lip. "Regardless, it’s not my job to assign guards to him. We’re Palace Guard. Not Royal Guard. Doing anything extra will bring attention to us, and I don’t know if my back can take extra attention. Besides, we barely have enough men to cover this side of the palace grounds as it is. No matter what happens from here, it's going to be a mess. And frankly, not my monkey, not my circus."

Patrick rubbed his face with both hands. “But the prince might be a demon."

Reed rolled his eyes and turned to face Patrick, hands on his hips. "Demon this, demon that. Y'all act like y'all even seen one in the flesh. Do they even exist? Or are they just boogie monsters to scare kids and poor people into worshipping Nyltia? There are actual monsters out there, and y'all gotta make up critters."

Patrick shook his head. “Like you don’t make up creatures? You tell the kids in town about dead bodies coming back to life! But besides that, demons are real. You really should hire a teacher, Reed. Growing up in the wild is no excuse for ignorance when you have the time and money to rectify it. And fix your awful accent while you’re at it. The high nobles might not be so irritated with you if you didn’t sound like you crawled out of a log in the backcountry."

Reed gave the man a deadpan stare. "First, leave my accent out of this. I got my reasons. Second. That would dip into my whisky and whore fund. Third, what teacher would stoop to educating my dumb ass? So where’s your proof on demons?"

Patrick rolled his eyes in frustration. "Two thousand years ago, the Great Demonic War nearly destroyed the world. If it weren't for the Goddess taking human form, we would all be dead." He gestured upwards. "We would not have a view of the sky, for it was covered in miasma when she arrived. Her Light burned it away, and the land flourished." He pressed his lips together as he gave Reed a dour look. "At the very least, go to Temple occasionally. This is basic history. Today, out of any day, you should give thanks to Nyltia for saving us. I get that Hans don’t worship Nyltia, but she still saved us."

"Blessing Day," Reed muttered. So weird that they named every damn day in the year with a unique name. Three hundred and sixty-five nonsensical names he'd been forced to remember by necessity on top of learning their language. Blessing Day was the first day of the year. Late Spring, and they decided that was their new year. Not even tied to a solar event like an equinox or anything. Just some random day in the season. Although their months followed a lunar calendar, so at least they had a concept of weeks, and those didn’t have individual names.

Reed rubbed his forehead. The Blessing Day comment reminded him that there was a whole other mess brewing that he wanted nothing to do with.

“I really think you should assign guards to him. I don’t think Kelvin will, and if something happens, it’ll be our fault,” Patrick insisted.

Unfortunately, that was the type of petty thing Kelvin and the Aristocratic party would do.

The knights assigned to the Western Barracks were the undesirables. They were nobility who lost their lands, Life Peers, or commoners who had been sponsored. The danger of assigning people to guard Prince Solace was that if someone decided it was advantageous for them, Reed would get in trouble for overstepping his authority.

Reed rolled his shoulder and lifted his arm to stretch across his chest. It really came down to whether they thought Solace would be inconvenient to keep around. He could see Their Majesties and Prince Solace eating lunch at the gazebo still. They seemed to be wrapping things up, though.

“It’s not just him we’re protecting,” Patrick added when he saw he’d not convinced Reed. “What about Lorrie and Marigold? The Aristocrats aren’t going to like this, and the girls are easy targets."

Reed's mouth curled in disgust. He dropped his arm to his side again.

Besides the Aristocrats, there was another political party. The Progressives weren’t nice, but they weren’t vindictive, either, which was the best anyone common-adjacent could hope for. The Aristocrats were the ones they really needed to worry about. Unfortunately, this would get straight back to them because of the one he would submit a written report to. Reed had never liked Knight Commander Kelvin. He was too high in rank to be brown-nosing Archduke Harthford. Again, all this was conjecture if Kelvin decided not to take the prince's safety seriously and turn all his protection over to Reed and his men.

"Sir Owen," Her Majesty called, breaking into his thoughts as she hurried ahead of the king on the path back to the western door.

Reed and Patrick quickly turned with a salute and bow.

"Forgive me for yelling at you," Charlotte said. She laid her hand on his arm.

"Majesty, I can only confirm that Prince Solace woke in his room and walked out here on his own. I cannot confirm when that happened other than being alerted at eleven-oh-five by his head maid that he was in the pond."

She laughed. "Seems he enjoys nature." Her gaze went to the pond. "Thank you for your report. I leave his safety in your hands, Sir Owen." She patted his arm again and turned, heading into the palace, giggling in giddy delight. King Gwain had a unique mixture of emotions on his face. Reed didn't envy him in the least.

Once they were gone, Reed put his hands on his hips, arched his back, and stared up at the sky. "Ahh! I was just thinking this morning that this was a pretty cushy job. Why'd I have to go and jinx it?"

Patrick snorted. "Again, with your made-up words… As for cushy? Look what happened this morning. They’re going to send someone to inspect, and you know the building isn’t going to pass. What are we going to do when it doesn’t pass?”

"I’m going to run Salvage around in circles to keep him distracted from the really bad stuff until he feels like he’s got enough to send me to Disciplinary. As for the Eastern Barracks, they're just bullies with no actual skills." Reed shook him off and started walking back toward the barracks. "They’ll beat me like usual and go back to denying us money to repair it.”

“And about Prince Solace?” Patrick insisted. “Should we write Kelvin a report?”

“He’s going to hear it from Floritan first, more than likely,” Reed assessed, having noticed that the old demon-goose man was nowhere to be seen. Reed didn’t want to judge a person by their looks, but Floritan reminded him of a Canada goose with beady evil eyes and nothing but hatred for all human life in his soul.

“Looks like he did,” Patrick warned and saluted.

"Shit," he muttered in English. Fixing his expression, Reed turned around to face the Knight Commander as the man marched down the garden path toward them from the north wing garden door.

"When were you two planning on reporting?" the Knight Commander demanded as he came within speaking distance.

"We only just concluded our investigation, sir." Reed couldn’t help but stare at that black hair curl on Kelvin’s forehead. It looked wetter than usual today. The man could’ve played Superman on Earth; he was the spitting image. Opposite personality, though.

The Knight Commander looked at Reed disdainfully for daring to speak, but he couldn’t chastise him for it since he’d asked a question. "It looked more like you two were chatting."

"I was verifying Davis's side of events, Sir," Reed said. Being the ranking officer in the situation sucked. Patrick remained silent, saluting.

"Then make your report," Knight Commander Kelvin ordered.

"We were inspecting the barracks when His Highness's head maid arrived," Reed said. "She claimed the prince had spoken, and he was in the fishpond. Davis and I went to alleviate her fears. On arrival, we found His Highness sitting in the pond. I pulled him out. He spoke again. That is when Their Majesties and the Chancellor arrived."

"This wasn't a trick? Clever puppetry?"

"No strings attached, sir. He's a Real Boy." Of course, the reference went over Kelvin's head.

Scowling, Knight Commander Kelvin turned to look at Patrick. "Do you have anything to add?"

"No, sir."

Turning back to Reed, Kelvin asked, "The scene when you arrived? Was there any evidence of evildoing?"

Reed wanted to roll his eyes so badly. "No, sir. No fairy dust or cryptic symbols drawn in blood. He woke up alone in his sitting room and walked out by himself using the wall for support."

"How do you come to that conclusion?" Kelvin asked.

"The paintings were off-center; the tables had been run into."

"Did you check his bed chamber?"

"Yes, sir."

"What did you find?"

"He wasn't in there when he awoke, and his maids had already begun cleaning up the scene."

"And in all this time, you did not think to report to me?" Kelvin demanded.

"We were investigating the area per Her Majesty’s orders," Reed said.

Kelvin scowled even more deeply. Whether the Knight Commander believed it or not, it was the truth. He stared from Reed to Patrick and back before walking away.

Reed let his shoulders relax and sighed gustily.

"He's going to interrogate the girls now," Patrick said.

"He's on a witch hunt."

"What in the world is a witch?" Patrick asked, exasperated. "And that comment about real boys? Fairy dust? Where do you get this stuff?"