They sat slightly apart from the others. Lionel was fully aware Edward occasionally shot a suspicious glance in their direction from the other fire. Lionel acted as if he hadn’t noticed. Cousin, will you ever stop being so desperate for control? I’m not one of your sisters.
He sipped from his own drink while waiting for Stellan’s gorging to abate. Twenty minutes or so passed before he saw an opening to speak. “So, my friend,” Lionel began, “where do you hail from?”
A sliver of meat flapped from Stellan’s fingers as he gestured west. “Beyond the plain.”
Lionel maintained a polite expression. A gentle coaxing was in order. This man represented a world of mystery, and he was determined to uncover every last clue. “I see. But where beyond the plain?”
Stellan eyed him over his goblet’s rim, and then swallowed heartily. “This is good wine.”
Lionel chuckled. “Agreed. But again I put the question to you–where beyond the plain? Regardless of what you may have heard, I don’t bite.” A curious eyebrow arched upward.
Stellan’s answer was in the form of a noncommittal expression. He was obviously weighing his options. Finally, he answered. “You know of Dungeon Forest?”
“Of course.” Lionel had heard the legendary tales of the dark place since childhood.
“It separates my home from Aldebaran. I hail from Vandeborg Castle.”
“Ahh,” Lionel said, leaning forward. Intrigue made his heart beat faster. “Can it be… You are the Dark Prince? We’ve heard so much about you for years, but quite frankly I didn’t know if you truly existed. Amazing! Strange tales are whispered about you, my friend, not to mention your wintry kingdom.”
Stellan paused midchew, then shrugged.
“Nevertheless, it’s an honor to meet you.”
Stellan nodded and then resumed eating.
“So tell me about that, er, the mons–”
“A moment, Lionel, if you please!” The voice cutting him short belonged to Edward, who gripped him tightly by the uninjured arm and pulled him up.
“Uh, yes, hmm…pardon me,” he muttered, confused at the sudden interruption. Edward dragged him out of their guest’s earshot.
“I wouldn’t advise you to get too friendly with that…with him,” Edward stated, his features locked in a troll-like scowl.
Lionel arched a well-manicured brow. Whenever Edward bandied about phrases such as “wouldn’t advise” it was actually code for “This is an order.” Lionel, however, was no servant. “Really? On what grounds?”
Edward’s gaze darted to their guest, who was still feasting away. His furrowed countenance left no doubt as to how he felt about their visitor. “How do we know the rascal did not guide that monstrosity here?”
Lionel snorted. “Ha! That’s ludicrous and you know it.” He swept back a lock of hair from his face. “I had just begun an interrogation when you so hastily interrupted. Did you know he lives in Vandeborg Castle? Stellan is the very Dark Prince himself. Remember when Old Man Griffin used to tell us stories about him? ‘A magician with powers most macabre!’ And to think, you used to doubt his existence as a child.” Lionel grinned. “I seem to recall how you once wagered a full week’s chores against ever laying eyes upon him. Well there he is!” He stroked his chin. “I fear my larder has grown frightfully dusty of late. Do you think you can start on it tomorrow?”
Edward gave Lionel a rough shake. “This isn’t a game. Think, man! Why is he here? His behavior is suspicious. Don’t forget–he’s trespassing on the King’s lands. My father will not be pleased.”
Lionel flashed his eyes. “Is that how you plan on reporting this to the King? That he’s hunting on–oh, dare I say it?–on hunting grounds?”
“Rubbish! The beast was cursed. This ruffian is not hunting for pleasure. I say we arrest him now and transport–ack…what?”
Lionel had gripped Edward’s collar with his good fist. He drew him closer until they were nose to nose. “You will do nothing of the sort. This ‘ruffian’ saved my life, and probably the whole lot of us.” He gave his cousin a flabbergasted look. “And you want to arrest him for it?” Lionel shook his head. “That’s bad politics…very bad politics.” He sneered as his competitive streak reared to life again. “Let’s see how many of the men support you on this.”
Edward pried open Lionel’s grip and took a step back. “Fine,” he retorted. “Play with your little friend if you must. But I’ll be watching his every move, and if he trespasses again, he’s mine!” With a final warning look, Edward stalked back to his seat.
“Not if I invite him first,” Lionel called after him.
Edward shot back his most withering glance, but Lionel merely laughed. Straightening his tunic, he resumed his seat next to Stellan.
“He doesn’t have to like me, you know.”
Lionel wasn’t surprised Stellan had so accurately discerned the topic of their conversation. He waved a dismissive hand. “Edward may be the King’s son and heir, but he can also be incredibly boorish and shortsighted. Don’t worry about him.”
“I wasn’t.”
“That makes two of us.” A yawn seized Lionel as the day’s events suddenly took their toll upon his tired body. He clapped Stellan’s shoulder and regarded him kindly. “I fear exhaustion claims me. Here we must part. Once again, I am incredibly grateful for your help today. I am in your debt, and I always repay what I owe.”
Stellan put down his empty goblet. “It was nothing.”
“So says you. Listen, we hunt here the last two days of every month. I invite you to join us whenever you wish as my guest.” Lionel then leaned in with a smile and added, “And as my friend.”
Stellan nodded in
