“So let me see if I properly understand things. I gave you an order to take money and feed the hungry; in direct violation of that order you go shopping. Perhaps we should chop off your hand. It seems appropriate considering the weight of your crime compared to hers. After all, that was what you’d intended for a far lesser offense.”
“But she’s a filthy gypsy!”
Niall nodded. “Yes. A filthy, hungry gypsy whom you stole from. You stole from me and you stole from her.” He paused a moment, then shouted, “Guards!”
Several guards clad in the standard-issued uniform raced down the hallway at his command. His yell had likely awakened half the castle, but all bets were off once Niall had been disturbed. If he was up, he had no pity or concern for anyone else’s sleep.
When the guards saw him they bowed low, then moved toward the gypsy. Of course, that would be their assumption. Why they felt he’d need to call in reinforcements with such a wisp of a girl, barely strong enough to stand under her own steam, he had no idea. Considering the battles he’d led them in, it was rather insulting. Just because they’d been in a long period of peace didn’t mean he’d lost his edge.
“Don’t touch the girl,” he growled.
They backed away, each of their faces mirroring the same look of perplexity.
“Take Robert to the dungeon, and relieve him of his weapons, as well as the shoes and belt he stole from me. I’ll decide his full punishment when I’m in a more gracious mood. I’m afraid what I’d offer him now wouldn’t be very palatable for anyone.”
The guards took their comrade and marched him off toward the dungeon, leaving Niall alone with the girl.
“Please, don’t tell the king about this,” she said, her voice so soft he had to strain to hear her. “You can have anything you want, just don’t tell.”
There was only one thing she had at her disposal to offer him, considering she was so poor she had to attempt to steal a loaf of bread right from under his nose.
Niall wasn’t surprised by her offer. He was, however, amused by her outburst. She didn’t realize who he was. With his insistence on a more relaxed environment inside the castle and him in his nightclothes, how would she?
The girl had probably never been close enough to get a good look at the king, and certainly not in a sleeping robe and without his crown. He decided to play along for a minute.
“And why shouldn’t I tell the king?”
“He’d probably kill me as soon as look at me,” she said, her eyes wide and serious.
Niall’s father had hated gypsies. He’d used every available excuse to kill or maim them, trying to slowly remove their kind entirely from the populace. Meanwhile, Niall had been off leading wars in which his father had been too old and feeble to act as anything but a figurehead. He’d only recently returned to take the throne at his father’s passing. Of course, the girl couldn’t know he wasn’t like the former monarch.
His only similarity to his father was the desire to honor a single tradition. In the kingdom of Himeros, kings didn’t marry. A harem of slaves was kept and the king chose an heir from the offspring that resulted. Niall had always desired a slave, though he wasn’t sure how he felt about a full harem. Multiple women could only be trouble.
Women had a way of sliding past a man’s defenses, manipulating with their charms. Observing the women presented for his approval, he’d seen the hunger for power that lit behind their eyes at the prospect of sharing the king’s bed. It had caused him to put the whole business on hold, and thus far he hadn’t taken even one slave. There was plenty of time for that once his throne was secure. He had cousins and brothers, should an heir not be available when he passed.
But now he had an idea brewing. A deliciously rebellious idea. What better way to end the feud with the gypsies than to create an heir that was part gypsy?
Besides, he
“But she’s a filthy gypsy!”
Niall nodded. “Yes. A filthy, hungry gypsy whom you stole from. You stole from me and you stole from her.” He paused a moment, then shouted, “Guards!”
Several guards clad in the standard-issued uniform raced down the hallway at his command. His yell had likely awakened half the castle, but all bets were off once Niall had been disturbed. If he was up, he had no pity or concern for anyone else’s sleep.
When the guards saw him they bowed low, then moved toward the gypsy. Of course, that would be their assumption. Why they felt he’d need to call in reinforcements with such a wisp of a girl, barely strong enough to stand under her own steam, he had no idea. Considering the battles he’d led them in, it was rather insulting. Just because they’d been in a long period of peace didn’t mean he’d lost his edge.
“Don’t touch the girl,” he growled.
They backed away, each of their faces mirroring the same look of perplexity.
“Take Robert to the dungeon, and relieve him of his weapons, as well as the shoes and belt he stole from me. I’ll decide his full punishment when I’m in a more gracious mood. I’m afraid what I’d offer him now wouldn’t be very palatable for anyone.”
The guards took their comrade and marched him off toward the dungeon, leaving Niall alone with the girl.
“Please, don’t tell the king about this,” she said, her voice so soft he had to strain to hear her. “You can have anything you want, just don’t tell.”
There was only one thing she had at her disposal to offer him, considering she was so poor she had to attempt to steal a loaf of bread right from under his nose.
Niall wasn’t surprised by her offer. He was, however, amused by her outburst. She didn’t realize who he was. With his insistence on a more relaxed environment inside the castle and him in his nightclothes, how would she?
The girl had probably never been close enough to get a good look at the king, and certainly not in a sleeping robe and without his crown. He decided to play along for a minute.
“And why shouldn’t I tell the king?”
“He’d probably kill me as soon as look at me,” she said, her eyes wide and serious.
Niall’s father had hated gypsies. He’d used every available excuse to kill or maim them, trying to slowly remove their kind entirely from the populace. Meanwhile, Niall had been off leading wars in which his father had been too old and feeble to act as anything but a figurehead. He’d only recently returned to take the throne at his father’s passing. Of course, the girl couldn’t know he wasn’t like the former monarch.
His only similarity to his father was the desire to honor a single tradition. In the kingdom of Himeros, kings didn’t marry. A harem of slaves was kept and the king chose an heir from the offspring that resulted. Niall had always desired a slave, though he wasn’t sure how he felt about a full harem. Multiple women could only be trouble.
Women had a way of sliding past a man’s defenses, manipulating with their charms. Observing the women presented for his approval, he’d seen the hunger for power that lit behind their eyes at the prospect of sharing the king’s bed. It had caused him to put the whole business on hold, and thus far he hadn’t taken even one slave. There was plenty of time for that once his throne was secure. He had cousins and brothers, should an heir not be available when he passed.
But now he had an idea brewing. A deliciously rebellious idea. What better way to end the feud with the gypsies than to create an heir that was part gypsy?
Besides, he
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