After that, everything happened at once.
Josef roared curses as the startled guards rushed forward, swords drawn. Eli put up his hands as a blade pressed into his back, but when a guard tried the same to Josef, the swordsman whirled around, grabbed the sword out of the guard’s hand, and threw him to the ground so hard the man bounced. The guard’s sword followed a second later as Josef, still cursing, threw it hilt first at the man’s head.
With that, Josef straightened up, rolled his shoulders, and started for the door. Started, and then stopped cold. Eli blinked in surprise. He hadn’t seen her move, hadn’t heard her, but the princess was suddenly right behind Josef, the tip of her short sword pressed into his right shoulder.
“That’s enough, Prince Thereson,” she said quietly. “One more step and I sever the ligament that moves your sword arm. Hands where I can see them, please.”
Josef put his hands out slowly, and the princess turned him around to face the queen again.
“What was that?” the queen said in a low, angry voice. “What have you gotten yourself involved with, Thereson?”
Eli gritted his teeth. Things were rapidly falling apart. It wasn’t so much the sword at his own back. He could duck out of that easily enough. But he could see Josef’s hands shaking as the queen questioned him. The swordsman was pale with rage, the kind that took some good old-fashioned violence to pull him out of, and the queen wasn’t letting up. It was up to Eli to act fast before Josef did something they’d regret.
“Your majesty,” he said, stepping past Josef and the princess with a florid bow, much to his guard’s surprise. Josef whipped around, but Eli stomped on his toes before the swordsman could say anything and smiled his best smile at the queen. “I believe we’ve started this on the wrong foot.”
The queen looked down her nose at him, quite a feat, considering he was standing and she was sitting. “And who are you? What makes you think you have the right to speak in my presence?”
Eli’s smile grew even more charming. “Because I am the son of one of your oldest allies.” He reached into his coat pocket and drew out a creased slip of paper, which he handed to the queen with a flourish. “Eliton Banage.”
“Banage?” The queen frowned, confused. “You are Etmon’s son?”
“The very same,” Eli said as she took the paper from his fingers. “And every bit as much of a disappointment to him as our dear Josef is to you.”
The queen glanced at the paper. “This is a Council identity paper for a child,” she said. “And it’s almost two decades out of date.”
“I don’t get home much,” Eli said, his voice deepening to a tragic note. “My father and I don’t get along, as you can see. But he always spoke very highly of you and his time fighting for Osera against the Empress.”
Queen Theresa arched an eyebrow. “I sincerely doubt that,” she said, handing the slip of paper to the lovely lady in black. “You won’t object if I ask Lenette to check the validity of your statement? I will admit there is a family resemblance, but I must be sure. Still”—her eyes narrowed—“you are the right age.”
Eli gave her his best innocent look. The queen didn’t seem to buy it.
“Well,” Theresa said, sitting back. “If you are indeed Etmon’s son, then I welcome you, but this is a family matter. You’d do best to stay out of it.”
Eli’s face clouded with a look of deep pain. “I understand your reticence, your grace,” he said gently. “But your son and I have been thick as thieves for a while now. I know him as I know myself, and, if I may be so bold, I don’t think you have things quite by the right end.” He clasped his hands, and his voice shook with earnest emotion. “Whatever terms he may have left you on, your majesty, Josef dropped everything to come here when he saw those posters. Even I was inspired. He’s trying to do the right thing, but it’s not easy. He’s been living his life moment to moment as a mercenary for years, and now, to suddenly hear that he’s expected to father a child with a wife he’s known about for only a few months, that’s a bone for any man to swallow. As you saw, the mere mention was too much for our other companion.”
“Yes,” the queen said, leaning forward. “What about your companion?”
“Oh, Nico does that all the time,” Eli said, waving her words away. “She’s quite the escape artist. Some people swear she disappears into thin air, but I’m sure your majesty is not one to be fooled by such cheap tricks.”