Free The Knight: A Tale from the High Kingdom by Pierre Pevel

mind—’
    ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Alan.’
    ‘And if you need anything at all, Odric is at your service.’
    ‘Until tomorrow.’
    Alan got the message and gave him an embarrassed smile.
    ‘Right. Good … Until tomorrow.’
    The apartment assigned to the prince looked out over the gardens of the governor’s palace and provided a magnificent view of the city and its port below. Night had just fallen. Illuminated by the vast grey and white Nebula, the splendid starry sky was reflected in the black waters of the Eirdre. The scent of flowers and trees lining the paths filled the air.
    As did the noise from the party rising up to the balcony from the open windows of the large salons downstairs. People were chatting and laughing. Glasses clinked. The orchestra was playing a lively reel, marked by the pounding of the dancers’ heels on the parquet floor.
    Lorn regretted not having gone with Alan.
    It had been a long time since there had been any gaiety in his life. A long time since he had been joyful and carefree. Why should he deprive himself now, after three years? He only had to descend a few steps. Did he want to live like a hermit for the rest of his life? Sooner or later, he would have to face the world around him. He’d known tougher challenges and yet he hesitated, as one hesitates to love again after a heartbreak …
    The night being exceptionally fine, the party left the salons and the orchestra moved out onto the terrace. More tables were set up outside. Torches were lit. And an entire dancing parade of dresses soon brightened the gardens.
    ‘Odric!’ Lorn called out over his shoulder.
    The old servant appeared promptly.
    ‘My lord?’
    ‘Is there an outfit in the prince’s wardrobe that might fit me?’

    Lorn appeared on the terrace wearing black leather and grey linen. Elegant but lacking confidence, he attracted little attention. Those present chattered and laughed without taking any interest in him. Their glances slid over him with indifference. Two lightly tipsy girls, laughing together, bumped into him. They barely noticed him and did not apologise.
    Lorn was rooted in place for a moment, unsure what to do. He had the strange sensation of being lost on the stage of a theatre. He was thinking of returning the way he came when Alan spotted him and, stopping mid-sentence, immediately came over with a wide grin.
    They exchanged a manly embrace.
    ‘I know that doublet,’ jested the prince.
    ‘Yes, Odric—’
    ‘Keep it. It suits you better than me.’
    Lorn nodded.
    ‘I’m so glad you changed your mind,’ he said as he took his friend by the elbow.
    He turned towards the people he had abandoned. They were waiting, looking intrigued. Lorn met their gazes, noticing an attractive young woman in the group as well as a man with a severe-looking face and hair plastered back, who was staring at him.
    ‘Who’s that grim fellow?’
    ‘The ambassador of Angborn. A Yrgaardian by origin. He’s delighted with the idea that his city will soon be under the Black Dragon’s authority once more. She’s such a pleasant being, after all …’
    Since the Shadows, a Divine Dragon ruled over Yrgaard. A formidable and feared creature, intelligent but cruel, the Black Dragon nurtured an implacable hatred for the High Kingdom.
    ‘Come,’ added Alan, ‘I’ll introduce you.’
    But Lorn refused.
    ‘Actually,’ he said in the prince’s ear, ‘if you don’t mind, I would rather …’
    People were starting to dart glances in their direction, wondering who this man was the prince treated with such familiarity. He must be the friend Alderan had brought back from an expedition to the Sea of Shadows. They spoke in low murmurs, heads tilted together, pretending to look elsewhere.
    ‘He’s said to have spent five years at Dalroth for a crime he did not commit.’
    ‘Five years? I thought it was three.’
    ‘But what was he accused of?’
    ‘Who knows? Both trials were held behind closed doors.’
    ‘To