A Royal Kiss and Tell

“Only what all of Helenamar knows, lad,” Francois said. He winked, and all of them laughed. “Go on, then, enjoy an evening of royal repast as is your due, and your loyal subjects will pay for your ale.”

“I am in your debt,” he said, and with a flourish of his hand, he bowed grandly. “Where are my guards? I am all but certain I came with guards.”

“Here, Your Highness,” said Kadro, and put his hand to Leo’s arm to turn him about. His other guard, Artur, stood stoically by.

Leo smiled. No, he laughed. “There you are!” he said gaily. Jmil, he was drunk. If he didn’t dry out quickly, he’d have hell to pay tonight. His father’s displeasure was something that could be felt to the depth of one’s marrow.

Leo blathered his farewells to his old friends, and God help him if he didn’t get a wee bit teary. He invited them all to call on him in England, and they all very earnestly agreed to come.

Leo emerged onto the quiet street between Kadro and Artur, blinking back the late afternoon sun, but managing to walk a fairly straight line to the curb. “Look at me, lads,” he said, laughing. “The king will have my bloody head, will he not?” He wasn’t so drunk that he didn’t notice neither guard disagreed with him.

He looked up and down the street. He’d expected the coach to be waiting—in Helenamar, Leo was accustomed to walking out a door and straight into a waiting conveyance. With all the unrest on the border with Wesloria, maximum caution was taken every time one of the royal family stepped beyond the palace walls. “The coach,” he said, as if his guards hadn’t noticed it missing. “Where is it?”

There was a discussion between the two guards—something about the driver being instructed to wait at a distance so as not to alert anyone to the presence of the prince in the pub—and then Kadro said, “I’ll have a look around the corner, Your Highness, if I have your leave?”

“Have a look wherever you like,” Leo said, and watched rather stupidly as Kadro disappeared around the corner. Behind him, something made a strange noise, like the staccato of gunfire. Artur jerked in that direction. “If you please, Your Highness, wait here,” he said, and went striding in the direction of the sound.

Even in his state of inebriation, Leo thought this was all highly unusual, to be left standing on the street without anyone about. He slumped against the side of the building, smiling to himself. He’d had a good day, all in all. Well, save the wretched headache he’d begun the day with. And his father’s pronouncement to him. Leo had managed to forget that unpleasantry over the space of a few hours, but now it came tripping back to him, disturbing the buzzy tranquility he’d developed in the company of his friends.

He was thinking of all he wished he’d said to his father instead of bumbling through it and didn’t notice the two men darting across the street in his direction until they were upon him. When he realized they were not passing by, it was woefully too late, as they were pulling him into an alley next to the public house. When he understood what was happening, he tried to shout for his guard, but his voice was garbled with his confusion and his inability to make his feet work properly beneath him.

The next thing he knew, he was caught in an alley with two men he’d never seen before. A sick punch of dread hit his belly, threatening to purge all the ale he’d so recklessly drunk.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded in Alucian.

“Please be calm, Your Highness,” one of them said as they dragged him toward the dead end of the alley, then attempted to prop him up against the wall.

“Calm?” He flailed, waving them away. “Who are you? I have a right to know who or what is about to befall me.” A flurry of watery thoughts and emotions suddenly swirled in him—fear, regret, impatience—and all led to the same conclusion rather quickly: the inevitability of this very thing.

“I’ll keep watch,” one of the men said to the other in Alucian. He turned and took a few steps toward the alley entrance.

The other man took a tentative step toward Leo.

“See here now, I know death is inevitable,” Leo said.

“We do not—”

“And if this is the way I am to die, I will meet it with courage and grace,” Leo continued, spreading his arms wide. For a moment—he couldn’t hold his balance. “But make no mistake, sir. I will meet my end with a fight. Although I seem to be outnumbered, and I see nothing in this alley that will do for a weapon.” He squinted at what appeared to be a cat atop some stacked crates, entirely unperturbed by his imminent demise. “Is that a cat?”

The man turned to look.

“I would kick my own arse for being so blasted drunk if I could,” Leo said, remembering his predicament and glancing around for something to swing at the man’s head. “And if I survive this hijacking, I shall never taste a spirit again.” He paused. “Well. After tonight, I won’t. I will be required to drink a toast to my brother, of course.”