Caracara's Hunt 76 The Royal Family

The tight-fitting clothes felt limiting. He could not move as freely, and without the bunched up sleeves, he couldn't hide as many daggers on his body. It was a minor thing, but it ate at him.

He wasn't meant for this n.o.ble lifestyle. If he was the one holding the chains, maybe, but this wasn't the case. All that had changed was his job description, not his station or his boss, and he didn't like that change. Old taverns and sleep on the road suited him a lot more.

There was a knock on the door, and he told the person to enter, not even glancing their way. His eyes were still on his reflection and the cheery yellow tunic he wore.

"Brother?" asked a timid voice, and he finally turned his head.

Princess Kyla stood in the doorway, holding her foreign toy. She had been brought back to the castle after the game was over. Like Corwal, she now stayed in the abandoned wing where no servants were allowed to enter. A hound was always on guard around it, ensuring that the place was really empty.

Still, she looked well. Her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes staring up at him from beneath her long eyelashes were full of mischief. It didn't seem like she took her limited freedom to heart.

"Princess?" he asked.

"How long are you going to call me that?" she asked, scrunching up her young face in distaste. "You're now officially my brother, aren't you?"

He looked out the window to judge the time. "In around two hours. Is there something you need from me? It's about time I leave."

The princess came over and walked around him, examining his new appearance. She nodded after a while. "You really don't look anything like him. Is that why he hates you?"

The sudden question startled Corwal, but he didn't let it show. "You hate me too."

"Do I?" She stopped and looked up at him. There was pain in her eyes that should not have been present in a child her age. "You survived when everyone else died. I would go to sleep having five siblings and wake up having four, then the next day there would be nine, and soon after, it's back to four again."

Her expression remained the same, but her eyes filled up with tears. "How could I like any of you when I knew you were going to die? Even Kenley couldn't make it in the end!"

"I—"

Corwal had no idea what to say to that. The training in the Kennel was harsh, and its missions even worse. Most people didn't last for more than a month. Despite the king having dozens of b.a.s.t.a.r.d children, almost none of them reached adulthood.

There had been a total of four who had, but Kevin was lost in a mission five years ago, Kena died trying to gain intel on Tarhun's emperor two years back, and Kenley just threw away his life a couple days ago. As far as Corwal knew, there were a couple more of his half-siblings in the Kennel, but they were around Kyla's age, maybe even younger.

"Hey! You're supposed to comfort me now!" the princess said while brus.h.i.+ng away her tears. Her tough act didn't fool Corwal, however.

He sighed and went down on one knee to envelop the little girl in a hug. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed. "You're not gonna leave me too, are you?"

The lie came to Corwal's lips before he could even think about it, but he held it in. One of his promises to himself was that he would never lie to the children he saved. They deserved to know the truth about how taking his help was a huge risk.

And the princess was nothing more than another child. They might share one parent, but it didn't mean that they were connected by some invisible bond. When he looked at her, he only saw a stranger with a life that could have been his, but which wasn't too enviable anyway.

"I won't do anything to end up like Kenley, but you know that I can't promise anything. I'm still a hound."

"But why," the girl whispered while holding onto him with all her might. "You're officially going to become my brother. You're gonna be standing by my side, aren't you? I don't want to bury you too!"

Corwal could have said that life wasn't fair or some other nonsense like that, but it wouldn't have mattered. If anyone, the princess would know it the best. Out of a dozen more king's children, she was the only one not forced to go through the Kennel, and it was simply because of chance. She was born at the right time and to the right woman.

"It's time for me to go," Corwal said and extricated himself from the little girl's hold.

She didn't stop him, knowing that it wasn't something she could change his mind about. Yet when he looked at her face, his heart clenched in pain. The puffy eyes and the forlorn gaze were like arrows aimed at his heart that he couldn't dodge.

"Don't worry. It won't take long," he said in a gentle voice. It wasn't a promise, but as close to one as he could get to one. His appointment ceremony was going to be different than normal, after all.

The princess laughed in a hollow voice. "You're afraid he will tamper with your battle and sacrifice you, aren't you?" She raised her head and chuckled at the heavens like no child ever should. "I wouldn't put it past him."

"He's tried it before, and I'm still here, so as long as he doesn't tell me to just die there, I will return. Trust me."

"Come back then. If you do it, I will give you a present," the princess said with a smile that tried to be an expression of joy, but could not manage it. "I'll be waiting."

"All right. I'll bring you something on my way too," he said, feeling both helpless and guilty.

Although he could not understand it, he could see the desperate need in the girl to rely on someone. She wanted at least one person on her side. A single one would be enough. Yet the castle didn't give her even that.

But he was a terrible choice. His life expectancy could be forever or two hours depending on the king's mood. There was never any certainty if he would return after he left.

He would try to return though. For himself as much as the princess. Despite the h.e.l.l that was his life, he still wanted to live. There was just something about the light morning breeze and a cup of cold water on a hot day that didn't let him give up. Joy could be found even in the worst of situations.

That didn't mean, however, that he was going to enjoy the next couple hours of his life. He swiftly made his way to the stables and got himself a black stallion. The main square wasn't far, but he couldn't be seen walking on foot. It was inappropriate to the n.o.bility.

No one recognized him, and he reached his destination in no time. The area was already filled with people. The king's earth mages had worked day and night to raise a giant stadium for at least a third of the city's population to fit inside.

On the south side was the n.o.ble's stand which had been transformed to house the royal family. The king was already sitting there by himself. The archmage was on his right while there was an empty chair on his left.

Below them were two rows of foreign dignitaries and most influential n.o.bles. These people were talking among themselves in quiet voices while acting like nothing interested them. Yet Corwal didn't need to be near them to know they were discussing the chair by the king's side. If his daughter was still missing, who was going to sit by him?

Corwal was almost sure it was him. Since the king was already in his place, he wouldn't go out of his way to order him to die, and he could not do it in the open, for all to hear. This boded well for his survival.

Or as well as his luck would allow it. He still had to face the foreign creature once the crowd was warmed up to earn his t.i.tle.

The first fight in the arena below was about to start, and Corwal left the premises to go to his waiting room. He had to make sure that none of his weapons were tampered with. They weren't, and he sighed in relief. At least one possible trouble did not occur.

This gave him an hour of free time, so he went out to check on a few people he knew. The king hadn't ordered him to not do anything, so he had called two guards for a meeting before the event. In exchange for good seats, they were more than eager to share all that was happening inside the dungeon.

Betty and Val were doing fine. They received some taunts for being mages, but nothing more than that. Despite them wearing onyx handcuffs, normal people didn't dare to come too close to them, and they were housed with petty thieves, so there were no brave souls among them.

Rain had drawn the shorter end of the stick, but that was what she got for being the leader and the best of them. One night, a few prisoners had bribed the guards to overlook locking up their cells after dinner. With newly gained freedom, they had went for her instead of trying to escape.

However, no one had expected that she would not only not be helpless, but would bash the heads of two men while the third ran away. When the guards came the next morning, they were so shocked, they ran away themselves. Only once the warden came was the trouble cleared up and the bribed guards fired after losing their hands.

"The warden cut off their hands?" Corwal asked in disbelief. There had once been a policy to cut off the hands of thieves, but it had been outlawed over a hundred years ago. After all, what use was a one-handed man?

That thought brought him bad memories. It had been necessary, but it didn't mean he was happy about it. If he hadn't been pressed for time, he would have come up with a better plan, like something that might actually work.

After letting the first guard go, Corwal turned to the other man. This one was well-dressed and didn't look like a commoner despite being one. His freshly shaven face and bright green eyes gave him a look of liveliness.

"Nothing's changed. The kid's still in his monster form," he said with a shrug.

"Did the archmage try anything?"

"Plenty," the guard said with a chuckle. "I heard him talk to the monster and order it around, but to no avail. It follows the few simple commands like come and sit, but that's all. There are no signs of the boy thinking to wake up."

'It's been two days…'

Corwal frowned, but nodded and let the man go. He then returned to his waiting room and awaited his turn. He wasn't anxious about facing the foreign creature, but Arawn's situation left him unsettled.

Once he came back to the capital, he had questioned people who had worked with Arawn before. They hadn't wanted to talk, but once he brought up his hound ident.i.ty, they had no choice. It helped him gain a new understanding of Arawn's reluctance to kill while having no aversion to dead bodies.

Yet it also made him aware of how unnatural the current situation was. Arawn had never stayed in his ether form for long. It was his anger, his survival instinct, and once the danger pa.s.sed, he would turn back. The longest time he had ever remained in it before was two hours.

A knock on the door interrupted Corwal's thoughts. He stood up and opened it. A servant in grey bowed to him.

"Sire, the audience awaits you. In a few minutes, the arena will be repaired."

"Thank you," Corwal said and glanced back at the small room. He had picked up his sword and s.h.i.+eld, and that was it. The daggers were already on him while there would be water in the arena, so he didn't have to worry about it.

He left with the servant and waited behind closed gates while some old man introduced him. His name was mentioned, but not his t.i.tle. Until he proved himself in front of a crowd, he would not be regarded as a prince.

It was not part of Bretian traditions, but the king thought it would look better. Someone might think it was a scheme if he pulled out a youth who didn't look like him out of nowhere right when he needed to strengthen his rule, but if he said his son had been training in secret…

That would silence a lot of voices. Not all, since that was impossible, but people would wonder. The effect would then only be increased if that son defeated a monster said to be invincible.

"Just another impossible feat, what's there to be nervous about?" Corwal murmured to himself as the iron gates rose up.

The brightness of the day outside blinded him for a moment, and a noise that reminded him of ocean waves. .h.i.tting the sh.o.r.e washed over him. He took a step forward, walking right into the eyes of tens of thousands of people.