ROYAL ROCK(9)

Finally, once we were seated with my father on my right and my stepmother on my left, Trip raised his hands and stood. The room went absolutely quiet for him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, ministers and citizens, welcome to this important dinner,” he said in a loud, clear voice. “For tonight, we welcome a piece of our history. Hundreds of years ago, in a dispute over succession, my family took over as the royal family of Starkland, ousting the old rulers. Well, everyone, those old rulers are back, but they’re not here to toss me on my ass.”

The room laughed at his joke, and he just smiled at them.

“No, they’re here to visit and to see our country. Hopefully we can give them a taste of what their family once ruled over. Now, Robert, Lucy, and Bryce, I offer you this as a gift of friendship from the Brunhild family. Maximillian?”

The old servant who showed us to our rooms earlier stepped toward Dad, who stood up. They shook hands and Maximillian handed him a thick cylinder covered in wax at both ends.

“Robert Koch, this is a very, very old scroll that we found in our libraries only a couple of weeks ago. When you get a chance to open it, you’ll find that it’s a family tree of your ancestors up until the final rulers, hand drawn by some scholar of their time. It’s priceless, and I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Dad said.

“Now, everyone, enough of me talking. Let’s eat and celebrate, Starkland style!”

Everyone clapped and began to sit down. The servants immediately stepped up from behind us and began to fill our glasses with beer and wine. Soon food began to arrive, and in huge quantities.

I quickly understood how people in Starkland liked to celebrate. Basically, they drank a ton of their beer, a thick and delicious brew that I couldn’t pronounce the name of, and they ate a ton of meat. It was like we were back in medieval times again, as we were served hunks of game and fresh fish and other amazing food.

As I sat up at that table, eating as much as I could, the whole meal felt absolutely surreal. These were some of the most powerful people in the country, and yet they were all assembled for this dinner, presumably just to welcome us to their country.

It didn’t really make any sense. There was no media in the room, so it wasn’t like this was just another photo op for the king. Maybe people in Starkland took these sorts of things really seriously, and any excuse to get together and drink tons of beer was good enough for them.

But it still felt strange. I couldn’t understand most of the conversation going on around me, since it was in another language, but I did catch my name every once in awhile. People kept glancing over at us, too, and I got the distinct feeling that they were looking at me in particular.

I couldn’t make any sense of it. I wasn’t all that interesting, and it was really my father that people should have been interested in. Maybe it was because I had slapped the king earlier that day, and everyone was talking about that.

As the dinner wore on, I suddenly felt a presence behind me and noticed a few people glancing up at me. I turned and Trip was standing there, smiling down at me.

“How are you liking our beer?” he asked.

I smiled. “It’s good.”

“I’m glad you think so. We take it pretty seriously in Starkland.”

“I can tell. You all drink enough of it.”

He laughed. “We can’t drink nearly enough, and that’s the problem. We always find ourselves wanting more. Do you have that problem, Bryce?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t had much of the beer yet.”

“Well, I hope we can leave you wanting more.”

I couldn’t help but hear something else behind his words, but his smile was innocent enough. He reached out a hand for me and I took it, shaking. When he pulled his hand back, I felt something in my palm, a piece of paper.

I quickly closed my hand, swallowing up the paper, and I could have sworn he winked at me. He quickly turned away and began to make the rounds of the room, shaking hands and smiling.

My cheeks felt hot as I glanced down at the tiny piece of paper he’d left for me. Written in neat, concise letters was a note.

It read: “Meet me in ten. Back door, turn left.”

I bit my lip, staring at the note. He wanted us to ditch out on this dinner, but I had no clue for what.

Trip was a mystery, a very difficult mystery, but I could already tell that I didn’t want to solve him. He was dangerous and cocky, not the kind of man I’d ever really wanted before.

I crumpled up the note and slipped it into my little clutch. No, I wasn’t going to meet the king for some secret rendezvous. I was going to stay right here and eat this nice dinner and enjoy myself.