Elf Defence (Adventures in Aguillon #2) - Lisa Henry Page 0,48
I had just arrived, and Duke Klaus wanted to show us the view. So we went up to the tower with him, and... I don’t know. He was standing really close to the edge, and I sneezed, and he got a fright or something, because he just toppled right over, and splat.” He clapped his hands together for emphasis.
Gretchen regarded him evenly. “And how does Lars fit into that?”
“Well, we needed a duke,” Benji said. “It’s Calarian’s quest, and he always follows the rules. So when Lars came up to find us, we...” He shrugged.
Gretchen’s brows tried to escape into her hairline. “You picked the first idiot you saw?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds stupid.”
“I can’t imagine why,” she deadpanned, tugging a length of chain out of her bag.
“He said the duke was his father, so it seemed logical,” Benji protested. “And anyway, it was Calarian’s idea.”
Gretchen cocked an intimidating eyebrow at him. “And there were no witnesses?”
“No, it was just us up there. And really, what’s the harm anyway? Lars is no more or less entitled to be the duke than, say, you. Or anyone else!”
“I’m actually more entitled than him,” Gretchen said, hefting some shackles out of her bag. “If you believe that line of succession bullshit, that is.” She caught Benji’s questioning gaze and grinned. “I’m two minutes older than him.”
“You’re twins?”
“No,” Gretchen said, raising an eyebrow. “Our mother just had a really short second pregnancy. Of course we’re twins, idiot. And listen, I get what you’re saying about how people should be chosen by merit instead of birth, and how nobility is a total crock of shit, but it’s not that simple here in Tournel. You couldn’t spit in the street on market day without hitting one of Klaus’s potential heirs. That man's family tree is a wreath.” She frowned. “Or a creeping vine, maybe. Some sort of invasive species of moss? Regardless, it’s a mess.”
“So everyone in Tournel is equally entitled, and equally not entitled,” Benji said.
“That’s about the sum of it,” Gretchen said. “Except some people, of course, think they’re more entitled than others.”
“Gunther,” Benji said.
“Gunther,” Gretchen confirmed. “Ironic, since he looks nothing like Klaus, but there’s no real way to prove it, right?” She held out her hand. “Foot.”
Benji stuck his leg out.
“Sorry, cutie pie,” Gretchen said as she fitted a shackle around his ankle.
“To be fair, I always figured I had a good chance of being murdered by some arsehole in power,” Benji said. “Though I kind of thought it’d be after the revolution had already started.”
Gretchen slotted a pin into place and locked the shackle, then put out her hand and Benji obediently placed his foot there. He’d had visions of him, Gretchen and a set of cuffs, but they’d been nothing like this.
Gretchen attached the chain to the shackle already on his ankle and measured out a generous amount. “You seem like an elf who likes a wide spread,” she said, smirking, and attached the chain to the other shackle before putting it round his ankle. Her expression grew serious again. “Gunther was never going to be named Klaus’s heir, but he probably had a plan, and you two idiots came along and stole his opportunity, and now you’ve defeated the monster, saved the town from trolls, and everyone loves you. Top that off with looking too closely at his books, and Gunther has every reason to try and get rid of you.” She made a face. “Also, I think he really liked that ugly old fountain. Apparently his grandfather built it.”
“And it’s his word against ours, plus whatever witness he’s conjured up,” Benji said glumly.
Gretchen pressed her lips into a thin line. “Benji, what witnesses does he need to conjure up? Half the kids in town are already going around yelling ‘Death to all kings!’ because they think it’s elvish for ‘Good morning.’”
“Well, how was I supposed to know that advocating loudly for regicide in the streets would ever come back and haunt me?” Benji huffed, slumped back against the cell wall.
Gretchen rolled her eyes. “Sit back up for me. I have to do your wrists as well.”
“Ugh.” Benji sat. “I swear the duke's death was an accident, but I’m pretty sure the only ones who saw it were the cows out on the mountainside that day.”
Gretchen paused with a shackle around his wrists.
“What?” Benji asked.
“Nothing.” She shook her head, and closed the shackle. She slid the pin into place. “Next wrist.”