Chapter 16

They’d arrived in Rutland the previous night. Cullen joined them this time when Thomas took everyone to the castle. His father had made a brief appearance, and Thomas had been shocked by how he’d changed. The man must have aged twenty years since Thomas saw him last.

Duke Charles had made excuses for Duchess Ann as he left, with the promise to see Thomas today.

Thomas had gotten up early and went looking for Nathan, hoping to get in some sword practice. His old—well, maybe current—sword master had put him through his paces.

A breeze blew across Thomas’s face, cooling a rivulet of sweat that dribbled down the side of his neck. He closed his eyes, opening his senses to the heat of the sun, the smell of dirt, horse, and leather, and Frost’s gentle woofing. Thomas opened his eyes and looked over to where Frost was and found her with Catherine and Jemma.

Frost was showing her displeasure because Boris had a handful of her fur to help steady himself. She acted like she didn’t like the little attention-sucker, but Boris was about the only one Frost allowed to touch her. Jemma saw what her son was up to and quickly pulled him away. Thomas knew that Jemma wasn’t entirely sure that a direwolf should be trusted, especially with her son.

“Focus and quit playing around!” Nathan barked.

Thomas rolled his eyes, which caused Catherine to giggle.

“It looks like I’ll have to teach you some manners,” Nathan warned Thomas for showing him disrespect.

When he was growing up, he would have quaked in his boots at a pronouncement like that. Now he smiled at the irritated sword master.

Since he’d joined the Royal Guard, Thomas had spent hours practicing his swordsmanship. During that time, he was able to forget all his other obligations and just do something physical. Bashing his opponent helped Thomas work out all his frustrations. Today’s chief one was his father and the state Thomas had found him in the previous night.

As Thomas sparred with Nathan, the clatter of wooden swords and guttural sounds of exertion echoed between the dark gray stones of the inner courtyard. The dirt was hard-packed, causing it to be a little slick, which increased the difficulty of Thomas’s footwork.

Nathan swung high twice, his face contorted with frustration, while Thomas deflected the reaching blade. Thomas had surprised his teacher with his vast improvement. He hated to admit that some of that came from his magic, which helped him to anticipate. Another part came from growing into his adult body, as he was stronger and faster than when he’d left over a year and a half ago.

Nathan reversed the momentum of his sword in a tricky movement meant to catch Thomas unaware. Nathan’s sword came back in a high loop for Thomas’s head. Thomas leaned back, and Nathan’s sword whooshed over his forehead. Nathan looked confused because he had expected to finish this bout with that move.

With his opponent slightly off-balance, Thomas took his sword in both hands and swung into Nathan’s sword’s guard with all his might. The jarring blow caused Nathan to bellow out in surprise as his practice sword was suddenly lying in the dirt. Thomas snapped the tip of his blade forward so it thrust into the boiled leather armor that protected Nathan’s chest.

Thomas winced as his friend fell back, sprawled on the ground.

“You little brat,” Nathan huffed. “When did you plan to tell me that you’re better than I am?”

“I didn’t realize you’d gotten old,” Thomas said good-naturedly as he helped his friend up.

“You should see him when he fights with his daggers. It’s like he’s dancing,” Catherine shared, clearly proud of Thomas.

Her eyes had been deep pools that had held a variety of emotions when gazing at him. They ranged from curiosity and wonder at his magnificence—or so he imagined—to right now, as they conveyed pride and a special sweetness that she reserved for Thomas alone. She might really like him.

“Don’t get too full of yourself because there are things you need to work on...” Nathan began and then broke down their training session.

Thomas hadn’t realized how much he missed being home. He planned to take a trip out to see Roger soon. The only sad note was that Nana Millicent was no longer around. Well, not the only sad note, given the loss of his brothers and his father’s apparent state.

Thomas and Catherine decided to go into town and do some exploring.

“They say the crier’s getting ready to make an announcement,” they overheard a tall man tell another man.

The ducal crier was a stout, loud man with a round belly and a hat with a feather. He rang a bell to get everyone’s attention. He would periodically come to the town square to shout out information the duke wanted to share.

“Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! On this day, Duke Charles and Duchess Ann welcome Thomas Mycroft as the heir to the Montrose Duchy. He is second in the line to the throne and may someday rule over us. God save the King!” the crier announced as he rang his bell and then walked away.

At first, everyone in the square simply looked at Thomas as they absorbed the news. Then a couple of older women came over to pay their respects. There was a lot of ‘lord’ this and ‘lord’ that. Catherine found it amusing to see Thomas suddenly the center of attention because it was usually her that caused a stir. But it seemed that no one in Rutland recognized her.

Soon, everyone had gathered around, giving Thomas congratulations.

He picked up some random comments that people were glad to have a ‘normal’ man as the heir, someone who wasn’t a ‘pompous ass.’ Well, he might have added the last part, but he got the feeling that Henry hadn’t been well-liked.

On the other hand, Catherine became their new favorite person when she announced that she was buying a round at the nearby inn as a way of celebration.

Neither Thomas nor Catherine was feeling any pain when they came to the banquet Duke Charles had arranged for that evening. Cullen had to come to find them because the townspeople wanted to meet Thomas. After moving to the woods when he was young, he hadn’t come to Rutland very often.

Everybody who was anybody was invited to tonight’s festivities, causing the hall to be packed. Thomas and Catherine were seated at the head table. When everyone was present, Duke Charles came in with Duchess Ann on his arm. They walked down the center of the room, and she let go of his arm to take her seat as he turned to the crowd.

“Thomas, join me.”

Thomas nodded, keeping his face unreadable.

“As you wish, my lord.”

When Thomas joined his father, the duke turned to address everyone.

“Friends, these have been a few days of great changes. We’ve lost and gained an heir. No father should ever lose two sons,” Duke Charles said with sorrow tingeing his voice.

His father looked at Thomas with sad eyes and then smiled at his son.

“Our new heir is proving to be his own man. Given time and experience, it is my opinion that he will be a strong and able leader. Thomas is yet young and untried. He will need all of your support over the next few years if he is to come fully into his birthright,” Duke Charles said in a formal tone.

“Let’s hope it is many years, Father,” Thomas said.

“Hear, hear!” someone said as the assembly heartedly agreed.

“You have all sworn to support me, and that support must transfer to my son at the time of my death. We must show unity before the people in this trying time. Can we agree on that much?” Duke Charles asked.

Everyone nodded solemnly, apparently agreeing with the duke.

“I have but one request of you when I pass. If you have not already been persuaded of his merits by events between now and then, you wait and see what kind of leader he is before passing judgment. Thomas is the legitimate heir. That alone should buy him your loyalty. But I advise that he has become a capable young man.

“King Edward has shared with me his praise of how our Thomas has helped shape the Royal Rangers. He has often come up with unorthodox solutions, but they have always been well-thought-out. Having the King’s trust says a lot about my son.

“With all that being said, I anoint you as my official heir, symbolized by this ring,” Duke Charles said to Thomas, presenting the ring to his son.

It was heavy, with a large red stone. Thomas slid it onto his ring finger on his right hand.

“Thank you, my lord,” Thomas said formally, with a moderate bow.

His father smiled and put his arm around his shoulder.

“Everyone, welcome Lord Wolf!”

“Hear, hear!” the crowd responded.

Duke Charles leaned in close.

“Tomorrow, we need to talk.”

They went and sat at the head table so that the food could be served.

Thomas noted that Catherine continued to drink wine and was starting to get drunk.

“You might want to slow down,” he suggested.

She slammed her hands down on the table and gave him a scathing look.

“Just because you’re now officially an arseling doesn’t make you the boss of me!”

All conversation suddenly stopped. Catherine must have realized it because she blushed and then got unsteadily to her feet. Thomas reached out to support her. All sensations of warmth that had once throbbed around her for him seemed to slowly fade and dissipate like heat waves would in the face of an advancing cold front.

“Unhand me,” she said quietly and then stormed off to her room.

Thomas thought about what she’d said. He ran through the conversation again and again, but he still didn’t understand what he’d done wrong.

“I should go check on her,” Thomas told his father.

Duke Charles chuckled and shook his head. He mumbled a ‘good luck.’ Thomas could tell that the duke doubted Thomas would have any success calming the princess down.

When he made it to Catherine’s room, Thomas found the door barred, and she refused to open it.

Thomas ended up sleeping outside Catherine’s door. Sometime during the night, Frost joined him, and he woke to find a huge direwolf head in his lap. He was puzzling how he could extricate himself from Frost without getting nipped for touching her when a boy tentatively entered the hallway.

“Duke Charles requests that you and Cullen attend him.”

Thomas nodded.

“Tell the duke I will be there shortly. I shall gather Cullen and bring him with me,” Thomas promised.

Frost’s head came up as she looked at the boy, who froze.