"I swear he spoke!" The woman's voice was raised in panic.

Around the bend in the path was a structure made of pillars and a roof but no walls, and walking past it were three figures. The woman he’d seen clutched the arm of one of the two men in matching grey and white outfits. They both carried swords.

Swordmasters then? he wondered.

While the one man looked like an ordinary thirty-year-old, the other man was unlike anyone Dunn had seen before. His long red hair was like flame and had enough volume and presence to be its own person. His complexion was a healthy brown glow. The redhead walked with his wrist casually resting on the hilt of his longsword. The dark-haired man wore a cold expression.

"You've been workin’ too hard, Lorrie," the redheaded man said. He spoke with a strange drawl that pulled vowels and clipped words short at the end. "One of the new servants probably thought it'd be funny. We'll put him away for you."

The pair of soldiers came around to the edge of the pond. Neither of them were paying any attention to Dunn, as if he were simply part of the scenery.

"I'm not lying, Reed," Lorrie said firmly. "I saw his lips move. He spoke."

"Then let's see if he'll do it again?" Reed, the redheaded man, said jovially. Leaning down, he grasped Dunn beneath his arms and hoisted him out of the water.

Steadying Dunn on his feet, Reed grabbed his sleeves and waved unresisting arms at the woman as he said in a weird voice. "I'm coming to get you, Lorrie!"

Dunn snatched one arm free of the swordsman. "Do you mind?" He may have been weak and shaky, but this was too much. He scowled at the man over his shoulder.

Reed withdrew with an abruptness that left Dunn unbalanced.

Stumbling backward, Dunn landed on the pavers. That would probably bruise as well. Looking up at the three, he scowled. "Is this how people act here? Screaming and being rude?" Reed had backed away some distance, hand on his sword. The dark-haired man had partially drawn his, Lorrie hiding behind him.

Dunn shivered, teeth chattering and ruining what little dignity he had left.

The door to the building abruptly banged open. "What are you three doing to my son?" a woman shouted.

"Your Majesty." Reed hastily bowed, slapping his fist to his chest. "He spoke!"

"Sir Owen, do you think me a fool?" The woman was dressed in muted colors, but the fabric was thick and looked soft. For that matter, Dunn realized that his own clothes were made of material he'd never seen before. He fondled the end of his coat.

"Your Majesty," Reed bowed lower, "Please, ask him yourself."

"I will strip you of your commission!" the woman shouted, standing nearly on top of Dunn now. When she moved, he noticed two men had come out of the building behind her. A tall man with shoulder-length silver hair and an older man with a thick, well-trimmed beard. Both were dressed well. The woman was now stabbing her finger in Reed’s face. “I have heard nothing but bad things about you. Now I find you harassing my son? Unacceptable!”

Sighing and more than a little annoyed at the noise, Dunn grabbed her arm, tugging as firmly as he could. She stumbled, choked on her words, and slowly twisted her eyes down toward him.

He stared back at her. "Could you quit shrieking? I did speak to them, though I don't understand why that's such a big deal." Fully expecting more screaming, he released her hand and waited.

Suddenly dropping to her knees as if she'd had them stolen, she stared at him, tears overflowing her eyes. "Solace?" Her hands crept up. Dunn looked between them and her face nervously until she cupped his cheeks. "Solace, my son, did you... what did you just say?"

Concerned, he leaned away slightly. "Why are you crying?" Had he been too abrasive? Who was Solace?

Her fingers tightened. Suddenly, she sprung, landing on top of him. "You did speak! My baby! My son!" She burst into sobs. He stared at the sky, then Reed, as he was closest. Unfortunately, Reed made no move to help. He just looked uncomfortable and pale.

"Dear," the man with silver hair said, hurrying over. "Charlotte, please, get off the ground." He fumbled with her skirts, trying to get his hands around her waist. "This isn't seemly, Charlotte."

She turned her face to peer up at him, "Gwain! Our son can speak! Didn't you hear him?" She pushed back. Now, her expression was nothing but joy. "Solace, tell him!"

"Please get her off me?" he asked Gwain.

Gwain’s grip slipped as Charlotte pulled away to clutch him again. The look of terror had been unmistakable. That made three different reactions to him speaking, and all of them were worrying. Charlotte was rubbing her face against his cheek, crying. Reed had backed away another step. Gwain’s hands were shaking.

Dunn rolled his eyes, resigned to being pinned on the hard ground, one leg uncomfortably tucked under him.

Gwain gathered his courage and stepped back in to lift Charlotte by the waist. "Dear!" he said firmly. "We need to look at this logically."

Finally able to move his leg, Dunn straightened it out and propped himself on his elbows. "That would be appreciated."

Charlotte, hanging from Gwain's grip, beamed at him with a smile so wide her face might have broken. "They're just startled, my darling. It's all right. They’ll get used to this."

Somehow, her reassurance worried him more.

Charlotte got her feet under her. "Lorrie! Where's his chair? Why is he wet? He’s freezing! Get a blanket! Get his chair!"

Lorrie bowed and dashed away, seemingly glad to be dismissed from the situation.

Charlotte turned to Reed. "Find out who put him in the pond."

The man saluted and brusquely walked away. The dark-haired knight went with him, heading into the building.

Now, the queen turned back to him, still with that smile. "Solace, dear, are you hungry? We came to have lunch with you!"

Lorrie returned with the wheeled chair that he'd been trapped by earlier and a thick blanket. Brushing off her helping hands, Dunn used the chair to stubbornly crawl to his feet. Unfortunately, he could feel his energy waning quickly and dropped into the chair with a resigned sigh. Lorrie tucked the blanket around him. That was nice, at least. Though the sunlight was warm, his soaked clothes were lowering his body temperature rapidly.

"Solace, dear, what happened?" Charlotte asked, touching his scuffed palms.

"You keep calling me that."

"That's your name, dear."

Dunn took a breath to correct her. Now that he thought about it, his memories were a mess. He knew his name was Dunn, but who he was beyond that, he couldn’t recall, and the name Solace seemed familiar, too.

"Your Majesty," the man with the beard said as he crowded close to Charlotte, wringing his hands. "You shouldn't just accept this as your son! This should clearly be investigated. Surely, it's a hoax. An imposter? Soulless cannot just begin speaking!"

Charlotte turned to look at Solace. Her gaze flicked him over. "No. Nyltia has answered my prayers," she said sternly and pinned the man with a look. "If you're just going to continue spouting drivel, you may take your leave, Floritan." Charlotte gestured at Lorrie. The woman took the chair's handles and followed as the queen started walking. Floritan stayed behind, scowling at the queen's back.

Solace-Dunn brushed his hand along the leaves as they came to the bush beside the path. They felt soft and fuzzy. He wanted to pluck one but couldn't bring himself to destroy it for his own pleasure. He saw Gwain walking behind with a pensive look as he stared at Solace. Their destination was a gazebo with a round table. Three people dressed in black and white uniforms like Lorrie's stood nearby. Pushing him to the table, Lorrie bounced the chair slightly, and Solace twisted to look back but couldn't find what she'd done. However, the wheelchair seemed to have been locked in place.

Charlotte took the seat on his right and scooted so close her sleeve brushed him with every movement. "It's such beautiful weather today," she said to Gwain as he sat across from them, "We don't have lunch outside often enough, do we?"

"No," the man said. He looked uncomfortable.

"Solace, what do you think?" the queen asked. She touched his arm when he didn’t answer, “Solace?”

Feeling the awkwardness of the conversation closing in, he put on a smile. "It's very nice?" He didn't know what counted as a bad day for these people. Given the varying reactions, Dunn couldn’t let his guard down. This seemed like a very dangerous situation. He was outnumbered by these strangers, not just Gwain and Charlotte, but Lorrie and three others in black uniforms surrounded him and he couldn’t move from his chair.

A man in black swooped in from the left, as if confirming Dunn-Solace’s suspicions that he would be attacked.

Snapping his hands up to defend himself, Dunn-Solace nearly knocked the bowl out of the man’s hands. It clattered to the table, disrupting the arrangement of forks there.

The man hurried to retreat, pressing himself against the railing that framed the strange structure of roof-without-walls.

Heart hammering in his chest, Dunn-Solace looked down at the bowl he'd been served: greens with bright red spheres on top.

"His voice sounds like yours, Gwain," the woman said.

"Charlotte," the silver-haired man sounded a little pained.

She didn't seem to notice and instead turned back to Dunn-Solace with an excitement that practically made the air around her vibrate. She had grabbed one of the forks from the table.