Golden Fool by Hobb Robin

Prince announced in a voice that brooked no argument. His boyish confidence in his own judgment cut me. “I know that in my heart. However,” and here a strange look flickered over Dutiful’s face, “he warned me to be wary of you, Lord Golden. He seems to regard you with . . . extreme distaste.”
    “A small misunderstanding between us when I guested at his home,” Lord Golden demurred casually. “I am sure we will soon resolve it.”
    I rather doubted that myself but the Prince seemed to accept it. He pondered for a time, turning his horse to the west and skirting the edges of the forest. I maneuvered Myblack to put myself between Dutiful and possible ambushers hiding amongst the trees. I tried to keep one eye on the woods and one on my prince. When I spotted a crow in a nearby treetop, I sourly wondered if it were a Piebald spy. Little I could do if it was, I told myself. Neither of the others seemed to take notice of the bird. The Prince’s words broke from him just as the bird rose cawing from the trees and flew away.
    Dutiful’s words came reluctantly. “The Bresingas were threatened. By the Piebalds. Civil would not say how, only that it was very oblique. The cat was delivered to his mother with a note, directing her to give the cat to me as a gift. If she did not, well, reprisal was threatened, but Civil didn’t tell me exactly what.”
    “I can guess,” I said bluntly. The crow had disappeared from sight. It did not make me feel any more secure. “If they didn’t give the cat to you, one of them would be betrayed as Witted. Probably Civil.”
    “I think that is likely,” Dutiful conceded.
    “That doesn’t excuse it. She had a duty to her prince.” Privately I resolved to find a way to spy on Bresinga’s room. A quiet visit to it and a search through his possessions might also be a good idea. I wondered if he had brought his cat with him.
    Dutiful gave me a very direct look and he seemed to speak with Verity’s bluntness as he asked me, “Could you put your duty to your monarch ahead of protecting a member of your own family? That is what I asked myself. If my mother were threatened, what could I be forced to do? Would I betray the Six Duchies for the sake of her life?”
    Lord Golden shot me a Fool’s glance, one that was well pleased with this boy. I nodded to it, but felt distracted. Dutiful’s words itched at me. I suddenly felt as if there were something important I needed to remember but could not trace the thought any further. I could not think of an answer to Dutiful’s question, either, so the silence lengthened. At last I said, “Be careful, my prince. I caution you against taking Civil Bresinga into your confidence, or making his friends your own.”
    “There is little to fear there, Badgerlock. I’ve no time for friends right now; all is duty. It was hard for me to wrench this hour out of my schedule and say that I would go riding with only the two of you. I have been warned that it will look odd to the dukes, whose support I must court. Far better had I ridden out with some of their sons accompanying me. But I needed this time with you. I’ve something important to ask you, Badgerlock.” He paused, then asked bluntly, “Will you come to my betrothal ceremony tonight? If I must endure this, I’d like to have a true friend nearby.”
    I immediately knew the answer, but I tried to look as if I were pondering it. “I cannot, my prince. It would not be fitting to one of my station. It would look even odder than this riding out together.”
    “Could not you be there as Lord Golden’s bodyguard?”
    Here Lord Golden himself intervened for me. “That would appear as if I did not trust my prince’s hospitality to protect me.”
    The Prince pulled in his horse, a stubborn look coming over his face. “I want you to be there. Find a way.”
    This direct command set my teeth on edge. “I’ll consider it,” I replied stiffly. I was still not completely confident of my anonymity