Page 114 of Reign

“I don’t understand why—” I began, but Fitzroy quickly shushed me.

His eyes darted toward the entrance, then narrowed into slits. “I think there’s someone outside.”

Before he could edge toward the opening, the esquire burst in without preamble.

“My liege,” he called.

Fitzroy scowled at him. “How many times must I tell you to announce yourself?”

“Apologies, Your Highness,” the esquire murmured with a swift bow. “Shall I write to the King to inform him of your heroic handling of the invasion and the traitor?”

“No need,” Fitzroy said dismissively, rummaging through a chest of drawers.

“Why?” the esquire asked.

Fitzroy didn’t respond—he simply pulled a thick, fur-lined coat from the drawer.

“Where are you going?” the esquire demanded, his tone edged with concern.

“I need to speak to the King in person,” Fitzroy said. “I’ll return within the week.”

“You’re going to go back to the Walled City?” I blurted, speaking out of turn.

The esquire shot me a glare as Fitzroy nodded, draining the last of his wine.

“Why?” the esquire asked.

Fitzroy sighed, slamming the empty goblet down with a thump. “Because I’ve war matters to discuss. I don’t trust sending a scroll—too many hands, too little security.”

“I’ll accompany you.” The esquire tipped his feather-topped cap.

“You cannot,” Fitzroy said, clapping the man on the back. “I’m bestowing a great honor upon you. I’m leaving you in charge in my absence.”

The esquire shook his head, a panicked glint in his eyes. “I’m not sure I’m the right man for the job.”

“Don’t waste this opportunity,” Fitzroy said.

“But traveling alone isn’t safe!” the esquire protested.

“I won’t be alone.” Fitzroy gestured my way. “Smith will join me.”

He handed me the fur-lined coat. “It’s a long journey on foot. You’ll want to stay warm.”

Too drained to argue, I obeyed, shrugging it on.

The esquire persisted in trying to change Fitzroy’s decision, but no amount of moaning could sway him. Once we were dressed for the journey, I followed Fitzroy out of his tent and into the woods.

With a tired sigh, I struggled to keep up with his long strides, dreading the exhausting trek ahead.

“I don’t understand why—” I began, only for Fitzroy to interrupt.

“I lied to the esquire. We’re not going to the Walled City.”

My brow furrowed. “Then where are we going?”

“The Isle of Annwn. I intend to negotiate a truce—or even forge an alliance—with Regina.”

The Isle of Annwn.