Legacy by Cayla Kluver Page B

father, and I would not have blamed him if he never forgave me.
    â€œVery well. I will have him brought to your parlor in the morning before he is taken from the palace.”
    â€œThank you,” I murmured, rising to curtsey. I departed the Throne Room, returning to my quarters to try to rein in my feelings and bring order to my jumbled thoughts before I had to face London.
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    I woke early the next morning and sat on the edge of the sofa in my parlor to await London’s arrival. I knew he would be brought to my quarters with the rising of the sun, and I could not risk missing him while I slept. Destari and Tadark silently attended me, Tadark standing by the fireplace and Destari, dark and brooding, near the door to the corridor.
    There were so many things I wanted to say to London, but I would not have much time, and I was not sure how to say them. I did not know what his mood would be, or if he would be willing to listen. But I had to try.
    There was a knock on the door, and I sprang to my feet. Destari stepped forward to open the door, revealing London and a Palace Guard almost as tall as Destari and twice as thick. Apparently Cannan believed that someone of substantial size was needed to control the former Elite Guard. While this would have been true if London were set on resisting, it was completely unnecessary in this situation.
    â€œLondon!” I exclaimed, as though I had experienced qualms about who would be outside my door. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”
    â€œIf it had been my choice, Princess, I would not have.” He stepped into the room, his voice bitter.
    I was dismayed by his manner, though I had no right to expect him to greet me warmly. I glanced around the room to see that Tadark was in a snit—his rounded cheeks were almost a match to my burgundy furniture, and his fists were balled at his sides. Though he appeared to be in an uproar over the way London had spoken to me, I knew that his antagonism really stemmed from the fact that he had borne the brunt of London’s wit for weeks.
    In contrast, the guard who had come with London did not seem to care one way or another how London spoke to me, a Princess of Hytanica, the thickness of his head likely a match to the thickness of his arms. Destari, who had stepped up beside his friend, looked uncomfortable, though he was not surprised or infuriated the way Tadark was. No one said anything, however, and I did my utmost to hold on to my composure despite the hurt I felt at London’s harshness.
    â€œWould you leave us now?” I said to the three guards, feeling that anything London had to say would be justified and worried that someone might interfere on my behalf. I needed to talk to London alone.
    Tadark was predictably the first to assert an opinion.
    â€œI’m not going to leave you alone with this criminal!”
    He pulled himself up to his full and unimposing height, puffing out his chest in a feeble attempt to look menacing, then deflating at the deadly glare in London’s eyes.
    â€œOh, be still, Tadark,” Destari grumbled, reaching out to grab his best friend’s shoulder and hold him in position.
    Tadark mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath, and Destari nodded toward the door with his head. “Get into the hall.”
    Tadark wavered, then crossed the room to slouch past the older guards into the corridor, not daring to disobey a deputy captain.
    â€œTake whatever time you need,” Destari said, giving me a slight bow. “I will detain Tadark.”
    I nodded, and Destari moved to tap the thickly built guard on the arm to remind him that he also needed to exit. When the men had departed, I turned once more to London. He said nothing, but folded his arms across his chest and moved to lean as always against the wall, although this time his posture was rigid.
    â€œYou must be angry with me,” I ventured, taking a couple of steps toward him, not knowing