The guard's eyes widened as he saw Angel approaching. "Your Highness, perhaps you shouldn't-"
"Is my father in?" Angel interrupted, his voice oily with politeness.
"Sir," the guard began, verging on desperation. He was never allowed to finish his thought, however, because he was cut off yet again.
"Send the boy in!" an angry voice rang out from within the royal suite, and Angel smiled grimly as the soldier blanched. They both heard the insult in the word 'boy', but Angel was angry enough that no new insults would increase his cold rage. Brushing past the petrified guard, he entered the room.
"Well, well," the king began, "your friend Garwin soiled my new shirt with his filthy blood."
Angel, refusing to be baited, merely stared at him.
"Good thing the princess showed up," he continued. "I guess that's pretty much the story of his worthless life-- totally helpless but for the protection of women." He dropped all pretense of polite conversation at that point, and the look he gave his heir would have withered plants. "Well, I wonder how interesting I can make his life once there are no more skirts to hide behind?"
"What do you think you will accomplish by threatening my friend?" Angel asked quietly.
"I don't need threats, my boy, when I have all the time in the world to make good on my plans."
"Do you honestly think I'll allow him to return with you?" Angel asked with a cocky smile, a smile that he had rarely unleashed in the many years since the return of his soul. It was a smile he had perfected over decades, capable of maddening women with lust and infuriating those he wished to torment. It was a calculated attempt at irritation, and had never failed.
"I own him," the king growled, feeling all the condescension implied in Angel's smirk.
"Hardly," Angel replied breezily. "Anyway, I inherited Mother's quick mind instead of your lust for violence, a fact for which I am constantly grateful. Don't you think I'm capable of convincing Willow's father that Garwin should stay here permanently, all the while making it seem as if it were his idea?"
The king slowly rose from his chair, glaring at his rebellious son. "I swear, boy, if you don't-"
"If I don't what? Will you hit me, try to beat me as you did Garwin? The whole palace knows about your violent temper, and though they may not have much say in how much brutality you dole out to your servants, they will not stand for you to bloody my lip, for they like me very well here. Furthermore, I, unlike Garwin," here Angel paused, sidling so close to his father that they each could feel the breath of the other on their faces, "am not afraid to hit back."
They stood at an impasse for a moment, neither backing down, neither daring to move. Angel was the first to break the silence.
"I may not be the son you wanted, milord," he murmured, his voice silky, "but in some ways, I am more like you than either of us would dare admit." He swiftly turned away, pausing at the door to look back at his seething father. "Don't ever lay hands on any of my loved ones again." With a mocking bow, he exited the room.
****
Garwin awoke to see Willow's extremely worried face. Some of the worry, however, turned to joy as he opened his eyes. "Garwin! You're conscious! Oh, I'm so glad!" She bent to hug him tightly, and Garwin had just enough coherent thought to spare that he noticed her firm grip didn't grip him in any of the places where he was in real pain.
"Thayne! Come here, he's awake!" Garwin had time to blink before a new face appeared. He saw a hesitating young man with gold hair and grey eyes, a pike held loosely in his right hand.
"Your Highness," Thayne said respectfully, "perhaps I should remain by the door. Lord Garwin doesn't really know me..."
"I'm not a Lord," Garwin croaked as Willow quelled Thayne's worries.
"Don't worry Thayne, I'm sure that you and Garwin will be great friends. Garwin, this is Thayne, a soldier in His Majesty's service, currently employed as your personal bodyguard."
"Good my Lord," Thayne began, bowing as best he could beside the bed.
"Still not a Lord," Garwin replied.
"Oh, Garwin, don't be silly. If he wants to call you a Lord, let him."
"I will do my utmost to see that never, under any circumstances, will you again be subjected to such disregard as you unfortunately experienced today."
"Disregard?" Garwin looked at Willow questioningly.
"Thayne feels badly because he didn't step in to stop the king."
"Indeed, milord, I swear that never again shall my own inner turmoil paralyze me as it did during today's incident-"
"STOP!" Garwin sternly said. "There is too much going on right now for a person in my position to understand it all at once. As far as I can tell, Thayne is a palace guard who is now my personal guard who insists on calling me Lord. Yes?"
"Yes, but-" Willow began.
"Princess, may I ask a favor?"
"Of course, Garwin," she replied, softening.
"Can I muddle through the explanations later? Please? My head hurts, and listening to convoluted accounts of todays events is only making it worse."
"Right you are, Garwin. You deserve to be coddled, and coddled you shall be."
"I didn't say that I wanted-"
"Coddled you shall be," Willow finished firmly. "Thayne, call a page, and send for more pillows and some broth."
Thayne bowed out of the room, casting guilty glances at Garwin all the while. Once he was gone, Garwin gave Willow a wry look. "You like protecting me, don't you? You want very much for me to like it here. Don't you know your kindness will make it that much harder when I'm forced to leave?"
Willow looked at him sadly, brushing his hair away from his forehead. "I'm sort of hoping you won't have to leave, Garwin. I think you fit here."
"So do I," a voice came form the doorway. Angel walked in slowly, reaching out his hand as Willow came to meet him halfway. Seeing the questions in their eyes, he shrugged. "I...spoke with him."
"I'm hearing less 'spoke' and more 'got in his face and tried to infuriate him," Willow commented.
"Perceptive as always," Angel smiled.
"Look at the two of you," Garwin blurted out. "Goodness, it almost makes me angry how perfectly suited you are for one another, if only because it isn't fair that you both get to be so happy."
Willow and Angel had hardly had time to exchange a look before Marie came in. "Your Highness, the banquet is soon. You had not forgotten? I had such a time finding you. Where have you been, and why are you here?" Seeing Angel, she bowed. "My Other Highness, a pleasure. And who is..." Marie looked towards the bed, her words breaking off and catching in her throat as she looked at the mutilated man under the covers.
"Do I really look that bad?" Garwin asked as Marie stared in what appeared to be horror. Feeling the curious gazes of Willow and Angel, she managed to tear her eyes away. "Willow, I will help you dress. I will be in your chambers-" the rest of her sentence was lost as she fled into the hallway.
"What was that about?" Angel asked confusedly.
"I have no idea," Willow admitted. "But I guess I should go get ready. Garwin," she crossed over and kissed his more or less intact cheek, "I hope you feel better. Thayne will help out. Angel, I'll see you at dinner. Now, I'm off to turn into a proper princess." With a smile, she glided out the door.
"Too late," Garwin murmured. "Well, Angel, you should probably go get ready as well."
"I don't want to leave you alone-"
"I have Thayne, and later maybe we can bribe a page to tell us what everyone was wearing and who danced with who. Now go!" Angel gave up with a laugh and headed out the door. Garwin had almost drifted off to sleep again when he heard fanfare in the hallway. Thayne dashed in breathlessly, somehow still balancing a bowl of soup.
"My Lord, he approaches-" Thayne began choking as he struggled to catch his breath, and an unpleasant thought crawled into Garwin's mind. Surely Angel's father wouldn't attempt to attack him again?"
That was when liveried heralds entered the room. "His Majesty the King," one bawled as Willow's father swept into the room. Garwin couldn't help but muse that he had never in his life been so popular before his cruel beating. Already, his room had contained a Princess, Prince, lady-in-waiting and his earnest guard, and now he was seeing the king.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty, I fear I am in no condition to bow to you," Garwin said respectfully.
"My boy, I, like my daughter, am deeply distressed by what happened to you today. I feel the need to make amends."
"Your Majesty, there was nothing you could have done."
"I disagree, but I will do something now. Do you feel capable of being carried in a litter?"
Garwin looked at the king in confusion. "A litter?"
"I would wish you to be our guest of honor at tonight's festivities, but methinks your chamber a bit small for the entire royal court. Therefore, the only solution is to take you to them." The king's face had not changed, but there was a tone of gentle teasing in his commanding voice. Garwin smiled in spite of himself. The smile faded as another thought occurred to him.
"I do not wish to question Your Majesty in anything, but might it not be...impolitic to bring me to a feast where His Other Majesty will be present?"
The king smiled grimly. "it is well thought of, but I spoke with him this morning before the council of my advisors. He informed me that he 'wouldn't be caught dead at any more wasteful festivities celebrating something so entirely mundane', so I think we need not worry about his presence."
"Well, in that case...to be sure, Your Majesty, I think I could be carried if my attendants can try not to jolt me too much."
"You are being pert, which I will take as a sign that you are feeling better. Very well, I will be honored to have you at my table this evening. My daughter thinks very highly of you and your Prince, so I have no choice but to love you as well. We will speak further this evening, but for now I shall leave you to your rest. Fare thee well." In a swirl of ermine and a blast of trumpets, he was gone. Looking across the room, Garwin saw a somewhat flabbergasted Thayne still clutching the bowl of broth in his hand.
"Isn't being an invalid fun?" Garwin grinned.
****
"So, Rajah, is there anything else your heart desires?" Angel smirked as an earnest young page brought Garwin yet another concoction of fresh fruit juice.
"Angel, so help me, once I'm mobile again," Garwin threatened vaguely. He was lounging in an extravagant litter covered in silk cushions made from every conceivable color of silk and velvet. None of them, however, could match the brilliance of the amethyst dressing gown borrowed from the king's own wardrobe. Garwin had tried to protest, but the king's valet had been quite insistent, and Garwin hoped that the honor of wearing the king's clothing outweighed how ridiculous he imagined he looked.
Willow walked over, a wide smile on her face. "Angel, it looks like these pillows could be made from your old wardrobe. Multicolored silk and velvet-- that was your Bronzing gear." Angel smiled ruefully before Garwin interrupted.
"What are you talking about? Bronzing?"
"Oh, it was just a joke. A very incomprehensible not funny at all joke. So, Garwin, is there a particular reason that Marie is so terrified of you?" She looked over to where her lady-in-waiting was sitting, her face white and her hands twisting the train of her gown. She looked everywhere in the room but at Garwin, and her eyes looked suspiciously bright.
"Have you been bullying courtiers again, you naughty boy?" Angel remonstrated.
Garwin shrugged helplessly, or as well as he could in spite of his injuries. "I've never met her, so the only thing I can guess is that the color of this robe hurts her eyes. Oh, um, Princess, don't tell your father I said that."
Willow laughed, then saw her father gesturing for her to approach the throne. "Oh, Angel, this is the ceremony of the evening. Garwin, we'll be back in a minute." She and Angel began working their way towards her father, when she suddenly stopped at Marie's chair. "Marie, Garwin was requesting some mulled wine. Could you take him a flagon please?"
Marie began to protest, but Willow had already continued on her way. "You're bad," Angel whispered. "Eighteen years on the hellmouth will do that to a girl," she replied. They reached her father, who held up his hands for silence.
"Tonight is truly a great night, my countrymen. We are celebrating a union, not only between nations, but between two truly wonderful people. Most of you must know how remarkable my daughter the Princess is, but it has been my privilege to get to know her fiance, and I can honestly say that I will be glad to welcome Prince Alaric into my family. He is an honorable and upright young man who will someday make a wonderful king. In other words, he is almost worthy of her hand." The court seemed to hold its breath at the king's audacity, but at Angel's grin, there was a swell of relieved laughter.
"The marriage is fast approaching," the king continued. "There were those who questioned the wisdom of an alliance of any sort between our two countries, but I think their worries have proved almost entirely unfounded. Here," he cried, raising his goblet, "is to the Prince and our Princess!" The hall erupted into cheers.
The silence was almost imperceptible at first, because silence by definition cannot be heard in a din. Yet slowly it spread, snaking through the crowd, and the jubilant yells died away in a wide path leading to the main doors.
For there stood Angel's father.
He was drunk and sneering, for alcohol could not change his disposition for the better. He glared around him, and the richly dressed people near him backed away as much as those behind them would allow.
"My good King Aylmar," Willow's father said calmly, "how good to have join us."
"Very good,' he replied bitterly. "You're thrilled, in fact, to see me, yes?"
"Of course," he replied.
Aylmar made his way towards the throne, stumbling occasionally. He came up the steps till he was within an arm's length of Angel. "Well, Padraic, this is a lovely scene here." Willow's father raised his eyebrow at the casual use of his name, but he made no comment. "The newlyweds," Aylmar continued. "Or, is it soon to be weds? Watch out for her, my boy," he whispered loudly to Angel. "She's violent."
"Like you?" his son asked coldly.
Shaking his head, the king laughed. "Well, I shouldn't have come. I just heard everyone having such a nice time, I thought I'd come down and look at the ridiculous show you're putting on. Parading these two around like prize horses, then marrying them off next week so your daughter can start breeding-"
"That's enough," King Padraic snapped, his voice no longer so controlled.
"Breeding royal brats even worse than these two. But, that's enough out of me. I'm a bit fey this evening, all the excitement, you understand." His voice was more poisonous than usual, and he did his best to bow mockingly. "I'll be on my way, then-" he broke off as his eyes landed on the multicolored litter where Garwin was doing his best to look like an unusually large green-eyed pillow.
"Well, I'll be damned," the king whispered. Willow winced as he began to laugh. "If that isn't too perfect. I wasn't aware it was your royal policy to shelter whores," he remarked viciously. Willow looked at Angel in confusion, but gasped as she saw the abnormally grey color of Marie's face. Running over to her, Willow barely managed to catch her before she fell to the floor.
"Lovely. A whore and her children, adoptive and abandoned. What a tableau."
Seizing his father's arm violently, Angel shook him. "What is wrong with you? Is there nothing but monster left in you? You come here with your insults and your lies-"
"No lies, my boy. If the truth is an insult, then you have to live with it. Look at her eyes, when she wakes up--the same green as his own." Ripping his arm from his son's grasp, he turned away. "I apologize, good people. Return to your festivities." His smile was full of satisfied hatred as he walked out.
Angel looked at Garwin, who glanced at him in despair before he refocused on Willow trying desperately to wake Marie up.
****