The Prince's Bargain - K.M. Shea Page 0,86

choked on his sandwich, and the usually cool and even tempered Grygg looked a little panicked.

“Er, that is to say…what do you mean? It’s just a nickname!” Grygg laughed louder than the situation required.

“Except I’ve already told you my nickname is Myth, and Lady Mythlan is a far longer moniker.”

Wilford thumped his chest a few times, then croaked, “Practice?”

“Practice for what?” Myth asked.

The captains exchanged nervous looks.

“Is this a custom, or a cultural thing?” Myth continued. “I’d like to know. If I am doing something wrong I need to correct my ways.”

“It’s nothing, Lady—er, Myth,” Wilford said. “It’s just…we’re just…”

Grygg held a finger up in the air. “Practice!” he declared. “As we rise in the ranks of the Honor Guards, we’ll rub elbows with more nobles. We’re practicing for then.”

“Except I am not a noble, and I was under the impression you frequently visit with Lady Tari, who is quite noble,” Myth pointed out.

Wilford rubbed his eyes. “Why do you have to be so observant?” he complained.

There is some undertone to this that I don’t understand…

“Very well.” Myth avoided their eyes as she poured herself some more tea. “I perhaps grasp what you mean.”

“Do you?” Wilford asked, sounding frightened.

“Yes. You used to call me Myth because we were friends, but you have rescinded your offer of friendship and incorrectly call me by a noble title to draw a clear separation between us,” Myth said. She was almost certain this wasn’t the case, but she was hoping this would guilt them into telling her the truth.

“Ahh, this is worse,” Grygg hissed.

“It’s not like that at all, L—Myth.” Wilford clasped his hands almost pleadingly at her. “It’s just, we notice things—particularly Grygg and I—”

“Because we’re the two that are forever alone even though everyone around us seems to have heaven-blessed romances,” Grygg grumbled.

Wilford shot him a poisonous look then returned to smiling pleadingly at Myth. “And we’ve come to see a certain pattern to these things and—”

The parlor door swung open, and Arvel poked his head in. “They’ve been found guilty!”

Myth popped to her feet. “The Fultons?”

“And Lord Julyan, yes!” Arvel laughed, throwing his arms wide.

Myth crossed the short distance and accepted the unspoken invitation, hooking her arms around Arvel’s neck as he swept her up in a hug. She couldn’t say anything—she was too happy for that—and instead she let herself laugh giddily as Arvel spun her around.

“You did it!” she said into Arvel’s shoulder.

He set her down, but didn’t release her. “We did it!”

Myth’s smile was so full her cheeks ached, but she excitedly turned to Grygg and Wilford. “They’re guilty!”

Grygg laughed boisterously. “As expected!”

“Well done, Your Highness, Myth.” Wilford beamed at the two, even as he edged his way out of the room, dragging Grygg in his wake. “We’ll go check on our men standing guard.”

“What? Why?” Grygg asked. “We’re off hours. OW.” He grimaced when Wilford kicked him in the shins.

“We’re going!” Wilford cheerfully yanked Grygg through the doorway, shutting it behind them.

Myth watched them go, mildly confused at Wilford’s conduct, but even her curiosity wasn’t enough to distract her. “The Fultons are guilty, but what is their punishment?”

“An extremely hefty fine, and the punishment I was really after.” Arvel’s grin took on a slightly darker edge to it. “Father has ordered the destruction of their trade permit with Lessa.”

“They can’t purchase goods from elves anymore?”

“Nope. They can’t even purchase them from other families to use for trade later,” Arvel said. “And he’s also temporarily frozen their ability to trade luxury goods here in Calnor. They can still deal regular goods—cloth, crops, tools and the like—but anything foreign or expensive is outlawed for now.”

Myth tilted her head back as she considered the punishment. “Because of their misreported taxes?”

“Exactly. Father’s reasoning was that those were the things they lied about and misrepresented, so they’ve lost the privilege to trade in them—for now. The Fultons will never have another chance to deal in elven goods, though.”

“That naturally limits Queen Luciee’s power to help them with their illegal dealings then,” Myth said.

“Exactly so. With their permit destroyed, even she can’t throw her title around to insist they be given a chance to order—she’s furious.”

Myth sighed happily. “Then it was a just punishment, and well thought out.”

“I would have liked to squeeze them more, but knowing Father intends to limit Mother’s power and ban her from any governmental activity at all, I believe it will bring them more pain than one would think. They’ve essentially lost all their power between Mother’s disgrace