I had to do.”
Robin still needed to know more. “Despite the magic connected to the indenture, it still came from my rule. And I’m not king anymore. So why not ignore it?”
Her eyes narrowed. “And run the risk that the Overwatch shows up at our door when the timer runs out and then stand helplessly by while they put my father in shackles and drag him off? No, thank you.”
The Overwatch was what the people called the Royal Guard. In his day, they’d been a rather benign force that served mostly to handle crowd control at official events. But he knew other rulers had used them very differently. Vesta was definitely the kind to do exactly that. No doubt by now she’d turned them into a fearsome unit.
Robin frowned. “But again, the indenture is mine. Not Vesta’s. I doubt she’d care about any debt owed to me.”
“Maybe not. But I couldn’t take the chance. Do you even know what happens when the timer ticks down and the indenture comes due? Who gets notified? You’re no longer in the kingdom. Should I have risked the chance that the queen wouldn’t be alerted?”
“I suppose not.” She was right. Magic was funny that way. When the bespelled timer went off, who would have heard the alarm? He couldn’t fault Theodora for her actions.
She shook her head. “I would never speak ill of my queen, but I believe she would have called the debt due, had it landed on her desk. I couldn’t take that chance. As I’ve said, my father is not a well man. I’d very much like to make his last days easier.”
“And yet, you’re here. For three hundred and sixty-five of those days.”
She scowled. “Again, I had no choice. And better me than him.”
“Such a sacrifice for both of you. Your mother must miss you terribly as well.”
Her gaze darkened ever so slightly. “My mother passed. Quite a while ago. I’m surprised you don’t remember that.”
“Why would I remember that?”
“Caralynne Middlebright. The name means nothing to you?”
He squinted, trying to remember. Then his mouth opened as a sudden memory flooded him, and he stopped walking. “Middlebright? I remember that name. Caralynne was the head pastry chef in the royal kitchens. She was your mother?”
Theodora nodded. “Yes.”
“Of course. I am so sorry. May she rest in the bright light.”
“Thank you.” She touched the pendant at her throat.
Robin put a hand to the back of his neck. “I know exactly who your father is now. We played slip, along with a few others, until the wee hours of the morning. No one knew who I was. I wore a hat and told them all I was the butcher’s cousin. It was one of the last times I was able to enjoy an evening like that. Soon after, I was too well known. I had so much fun. But he lost terribly. To me.”
“He always loses.”
“And that’s where his indenture came from.”
“Yes. My mother claimed he offered up a year of his life in service when he ran out of funds, but he told me that when he admitted he didn’t have the funds to pay what he’d lost, and it was revealed who you really were, the indenture was created automatically. I suspect my mother’s version is the right one, but it doesn’t matter now.” She sighed. “I will say you were very kind to give him as many years as you did to pay it off.”
“I’m sorry it happened at all. If I remember correctly, I tried to forgive it, but your father refused. Said he’d have the funds shortly and it was nothing to worry about.”
“He says that about every debt he incurs. It will never be true, but he’s too proud to admit that, and so his debt increases steadily.”
They started walking again, following the path in silence for a few moments.
Robin was lost for a moment in happier times. “Your mother made the best spice cake I’ve ever eaten. Her oatmeal cookies were equally as good. I was so sorry to hear of her passing.”
“Thank you.”
“She made my coronation cake, you know.”
“I didn’t know that.”
He nodded. “She wasn’t the only one, but she was in charge of it.”
“Thank you for telling me that. My father says you sent beautiful flowers when she passed. I’m sure it was your secretary or one of your ministers.”
He stopped walking again, causing her to stop as well. “It had to have been my secretary. I was barely nineteen. I’d been king for