A door creaked open from the back and a bent over old man shuffled in, his cane thudding against the wooden floor. He squinted at the merchant. Scratching his chin, he hobbled closer to me. My cheeks flushed, I knew him even though his eyes were milky with cataracts and old age had filled his features with more wrinkles. His brows lifted; a shaking hand cover his mouth. He seemed unsure, his thoughts visible on his face, are my eyes really going or is it my mind?

It’s not a grand secret, but I can’t let this poor old man wonder if he’s lost his mind.

“I would have thought you’d been long gone by now, Lord Harrison.” My voice triggered for him to reach out and I shook his hand.

“My God, where have you been, my dear prince?” The merchant bowed down and Lord Harrison cackled. “Ignore my grandson, he was a young boy in the days you visited my shop.”

“Please, no formalities.” Sighing, it left an aching in my chest. He was older than the old farmer, but he hadn’t faced what the Lord Knight had survived. “I’m here on behalf of the new priest. My fath– the King is coming for the first service and the tapestries are worn out.”

Nodding, Lord Harrison turned to the merchant. “King Traibon never put a hold on that pattern, we just keep it hidden. He asked for it by name, he shall get it. I suppose you will be draping the walls and possibly need runners for the aisleway as well?”

Flinching, I had neglected to think of a runner. “It seems you know more about my needs than I do.” Pulling open the coin purse, I drew a few coins out and handed the coin purse to him. “Falco’s buying apparently.”

“Ha!” Lord Harrison weighed the bag in his palm, a sign of years of habit and practice being a tradesman. “This is more than enough. We’ll even do the decorating in that case and Marcus here will take a look and see how else we can make this first service one the King will enjoy.”

“Indeed, it would be an honor to aid you. I had heard stories of you, though I wish you’d come back and take– OUCH!” Marcus had fumbled over a rug to shake my hand.

The cane dug into his toes, “It’s an honor to help get the church running again.”

“Thank you.” Nodding my head, I left without wasting any further time.

The entire city knew who I was, including Falco, but does my father know I’m back and alive?

Swallowing down the rising fear, I focused on getting back to the church. I had left John alone far longer than I had intended. Panic forced me to pick up pace, my side stinging in reply. My heart thudded in my ears. Basque swiveled his head and curled his lips as I came around the corner. He pawed the ground with his hoof, what took you so long, give me sweets! Shushing him, I pushed into the church and paled. Viceroy Falco stood midway in the aisle.

“My goodness, you have done wonders in such little time.” Falco’s voice bounced off the walls and ceiling. “Perhaps it’s good that I put faith in you, Father John.”

John and the carpenter were on the pulpit, fastening the new podium to the floor.

“There is much work to do still.” John stole a look at me but returned his eyes to Falco. “It would be going far better if you hadn’t beaten my servant in the streets last night.”

The carpenter paled, looking to me then to Falco.

“He needed to learn some manners.” One step closer to the pulpit and my blood boiled as I gripped the hilt of the sword on my hip.

“Viceroy Falco.” My voice filled the cathedral making him spin to face me. “Let me walk you out. As you can see, my keeper is in the middle of business with the carpenter.”

I could feel the carpenter staring at my bruised cheek and John relented, “Thank you, Danseur.”

“As you wish.” Falco’s eyes narrowed, and I escorted him out as he whispered, “You shouldn’t leave your precious items unattended. Someone might come along and break them.”

I stopped at the doors watching him walk away, “And spoiled brats don’t get prizes for their tantrums.” Slamming the doors shut, I could breathe again.

The laughter muffled by the door made my shoulders visibly shudder. Behind me, the carpenter was whispering with John. If there had been any respect left for Falco, it was gone after John let it be known he’d laid a hand on the prince. Looking for the La Dame d’Croc would have to wait until after King Traibon came to John’s first sermon. Turning, it seemed they had finished lining up the pews while I’d been away. John’s blue glare never left me. Letting go of my sword, I motioned for John to follow me into the office and he wasted no time to follow.

“What took you so long?” John hissed, slamming the door behind us.

“My ribs.” Pulling out a jar of buzz buttons and the new jar, I sighed. “And I managed to strike a favor with the textile merchant. He’ll be sending his grandson Marcus over to decorate.”

Picking up the jar of new medicine, he opened it, “Well this is a more pleasant smell, what is this for?”

“Me.” I pulled my shirt off and lifted my arm, the pain agonizing. “Do you think you can return the favor?”

“How much of this crap do I rub on there?” Scooping a gob onto his fingers, he dabbed the icy medicine sparingly.

“What are you doing?” Scoffing, I grabbed his wrist and pressed his palm flat across my ribs. “Rub it in. Helps to use your whole hand and not the tips of your fingers. I can’t reach, and it hurts like hell to do anything at this rate.”

His cheeks reddened, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“It already hurts.” I flustered, “I just hope this helps.”

Inhaling deep, John took another gob and rubbed it between both palms and applied it across the purple-stained skin. “I’m not afraid of him, you know.”

Sighing, I whispered, “I know, but you should be.”

“Are you going to be here when the King comes?” He paused his rubbing a few seconds before continuing again. “Or do you plan to stay in the background?”

“It’s not like I can stand on the pulpit and preach with you.” I eyed him, gauging the focused expression on his face. “I’ll be here, not because of Falco, but to support you. Was that not the pact we made ten years ago? Was that not the reason why your back is on fire day in and day out?”

John’s cheeks reddened, “You’re right. It was a stupid question.” He pulled away, grabbing my shirt to wipe his hand. “I’ve got work to do, so this should suffice. Take a break. I’ll need you back to full health as soon as possible. I was just wondering if you wanted… never mind.”

“What is it?” Creasing my brow, I watched him shake his head. What unfolds inside that mind I wonder?

He left, leaving me wondering what it was he wanted to say. I knew something unspoken lingered between us. That moment where his lips would part, staying agape for a few seconds before he would slam them shut again then silence. His cheeks were red and twitched with frustration while a mixture of dread and unspoken questions filled his eyes. I could never guess what was going through his head. Unlike me, he was unpredictable, and he reminded me of the old man.

Always think ten steps ahead, Dante. The birds had eaten the seed and the Lord Knight gnawed on his pipe, scowling at me from the porch. And if you can’t think that far ahead, let John do it. That boy’s far cleverer than he lets on, but worthless if you ask him someone’s rank. He could never grasp that, but don’t let it fool you. John’s got survival instincts like no other on this world. I swear he’ll outlive us both.