Mickey Reichert - The legend of Nightfall

This time, Nightfall caught the appeal. "My name is Sudian, squire to Prince Edward Nargol of Alyndar."

“Ah," the duke said. The guard nodded. From the entryways, Nightfall saw other heads bob and heard quiet whispers.

“I believe my master is here, sir."

“He is,” the duke admitted.

Nightfall met the duke’s eyes solidly. "You need to free, him, Duke Varsah.”

"Why?"

The question caught Nightfall off-guard. He recalled Willafrida’s comment about vouching for Edward and I hoped it would prove as easy at it seemed. "Sir, in every way, he’s as good and moral a man as this world has."

The duke’s brows fanned down toward his eyes. "If that’s so, then there’s little hope left for our world. A man who would sneak into a woman’s bedroom, without the permission or even the knowledge of her father-" He broke off with a sharp, wordless sound, clearly feeling he had no need to finish the sentence.

Nightfall wished that he had. It would have clarified so much. In his world, where families felt lucky to have a single sleeping chamber, it seemed nonsensical to worry about a harmless liaison between nobles, no matter in which room it occurred. Those thoughts notwithstanding, he took it as given that such was improper behavior and worked from there. "Willafrida called for him, sir. Would a good man refuse a lady’s invitation?"

The brows snaked lower. "My daughter did no such thing."

"With all respect due." Nightfall had come to enjoy the phrase. In his mind, the amount became a spectrum on which most men deserved a pittance. "I was there, sir."

The duke’s face pinched further, becoming ugly. “My daughter would never call a man to her room. That’s an insult l won’t tolerate, especially from a servant. Why did you come? To besmirch the name of my daughter? To try to make her unmarriable?"

The duke’s responses bewildered Nightfall, and he tried to return the incident to its proper perspective. "Sir Duke, I came to clear the name of the most moral and honest man I’ve seen or heard about. Nothing more.”

Duke Varsah made a noise that implied he believed otherwise.

The solution seemed simple to Nightfall. "What does Willafrida say about the matter, sir?"

"What?" The duke’s features returned to normal, more, Nightfall guessed from the discomfort of their previous position than from any change in attitude.

Nightfall pressed. "Sir, Willafrida was there as well. Surely she told you what did and didn’t happen.”

The duke clenched his hands, glaring. "This isn’t a matter to involve my daughter. I will not even insult her purity by asking. There’s no need."

Nightfall stared, his own rage growing, not daring to believe what he had heard. "Perhaps, sir, if you spoke with your daughter more often, she wouldn’t feel the need to call men into her room."

Duke Varsah’s jaw drooped, and he sputtered, no coherent words emerging for a moment. Apparently no one had ever spoken to him in this manner, and he had never had to deal with punishing such rudeness. “Servant, l could have you executed."

Nightfall met the angry glare with level coolness. "And incur the wrath of Alyndar. Do you really want to war with a kingdom?"

The guard remained nervously in position, awaiting a direct command. The others in the doorways ceased their whispered discussions and became more visible.

Varsah pursed his lips, weighing Nightfall’s bluff. “Over a servant? I think not."

Nightfall remained notably calm, his composure a disquieting contrast to Varsah’s fury and threats. He had seen Alyndar’s dungeon as well as the duke’s and little doubted it would prove easy to escape in comparison. He sincerely doubted the duke would carry forth on his warning of execution in his, own living room. Even if he did, Nightfall was ready and willing to discover whether his dagger and skill would get him out the door. "Sir, I’m not a normal servant. I’m Prince Edward’s personal squire. I hold his life in my hands on a daily basis. Do you think I was chosen on a whim, without careful forethought?"

"Perhaps not," the duke admitted grudgingly. “But I can tell you’re ill-mannered and lowly bred."

Many sarcastic ways to answer the taunt entered Nightfall’s mind, but he dismissed them. This was a time for diplomacy not antagonizing. In truth, Nightfall doubted Varsah could find a man less cultured or of baser stock. "Duke Varsah, my only wish is to free my master. What do I need to do?"

The duke sat back, folding his arms across his chest. His manner suggested a willingness to discuss the matter but a heldover hostility that could surface at any time. "First, we need to determine if Edward dishonored my daughter. If not, my next step depends upon his attitude. He claimed he had no intention of marrying her. I’ll have to see some explanation and remorse for breaking into a woman’s room at night. If I don’t, his father and I will discuss his punishment. If I do find that my daughter’s been violated, his father and I will have a different discussion. One that involves restitution, discipline, and, possibly, a wedding.”

Nightfall considered a moment. The last had promise. Voluntary or not, Edward’s marriage to Willafrida meant landing, he believed. Yet, Nightfall refused to place his trust in that last possibility. Edward choosing to marry a duchess-heir fell into a vastly different category than being forced into an intolerable union. Surely King Rikard would not let Nightfall out of the oath-bond based on a strategy that had gotten Edward in trouble, shamed the younger prince and his breeding, and gotten him married as a punishment. That thought sparked another. Perhaps King Rikard would sanction any action that got Edward land and out of Rikard’s charge. At one time, that would have sufficed for Nightfall. Now, it bothered him. He could always take another chance at uniting Willafrida and Edward; the danger of their romance might heighten its excitement. But Edward deserved a chance at something better than a wedding at weapon point and a jackass for a father-in-law. Despite Nightfall’s thoughts, he responded directly to the duke’s words. “Sir, that seems fair enough. I’ll wait here while Willafrida is asked whether my master forced anything on her." Nightfall hoped the young woman would speak honestly and not lie to snag a prince of such beauty.

"The duke dismissed the suggestion. “The court physician will examine her in the morning."

The duke’s words seemed wholly unrelated to the topic. "Examine her, sir? There’s a way to tell such a thing?"

Duke Varsah stared, equally incredulous. "Of course. Physicians can tell if a woman’s virginity is intact. Purity is required as a condition of most noble weddings."

Nightfall wondered if the rule extended to the men as well as the women. If so, it explained much about Edward and, especially, his reaction to Kelryn.

Varsah’s manner hardened again, though less extreme than previously. "Poor Willafrida. I had hoped never to have to subject her to such a thing until her wedding day. That alone makes Edward deserving of punishment, whether innocent or guilty. Even if they merely talked as he claimed, his crime began when he invaded a lady’s room."

The impact of Varsah’s words struck hard. If the physician would perform his check for the first time, it meant Edward would take blame for any indiscretion of Willafrida at any time. Recalling the outfit and pose she had struck when she believed Nightfall the suitor who sent the mysterious flowers, he doubted she would pass the physician’s test. Edward would take blame and punishment for another man’s entertainment. "If you ask her about what happened, she won’t have to suffer the physician’s test."

The duke stiffened, sitting forward in the chair again. "My daughter is innocent. There’s no need to question."