Wicked Waters | Oceana Book I

Chapter 1.3

Another man might have found it intimidating to stand before Anaphe's gates and be denied entry due to the hour, but all Valory felt was exasperation. He hated petty games and silly politics, and going back-and-forth with a guardsman was nothing but.

This particular guardsman was a wet, young lad whose shoulders had yet to fill out his uniform. Though Valory wasn't a happy recipient of the sort of exaggerated flattery that came as a result of his position, there were times when passing as a common soldier frustrated him more. This was one of those times, and his mood was souring by the minute as Little took lip from a new recruit who took joy in lording his little bit of power over others.

"You came unannounced," the guardsman said, words slow as though he spoke to a simpleton. "You'll have to return in the morning."

"You must have seen us from the time we crossed the bridge, and you're telling me—"

"You'll have to return in the morning," the recruit repeated. "We open these gates for no one after dark."

Valory stepped forward, stopping the window from shutting with an outstretched hand. "I suspect there are some exceptions."

The recruit opened his mouth to protest but froze as his eyes landed on the signet ring on Valory's right hand. From there they traveled up to his forearm where the King's insignia was stamped, embellished with the crescent moon of the Regency. To the recruit's credit, it only took him a few moments to make the connection.

"My Lord—"

The scrambling began in earnest at that, guardsmen hastening to turn the capstan that cranked open the gates, or to apologize for not recognizing them at first sight, or to take to horseback to run a message into the inner city that the Prince had arrived.

Valory took both apologies and well-wishes in stride, and was glad when all of it was done with and they were free to proceed through the gates towards the inner city. He stifled a yawn. There would be no rest for any of them for some time. He could feel their proximity to the city in his bones, and suspected that his men could as well. The signatures of other enchantments rested as white noise at the edge of his consciousness; talismans could only do so much to stifle them.

Gabriel pulled up to his left, rubbing at a temple with gloved fingertips.

"How are you holding up?" Valory asked him, making a vague gesture towards his talisman.

Gabriel shrugged. "So many thoughts in such a small place — it takes getting used to. I know you understand."

"As best I can. Little?"

"Getting by. One of the gate guards has an enchantment that makes me want to crack skulls."

Valory couldn't help the huff of amusement that passed his lips. "Careful – were not in the Borderlands any longer," he said. Such words, even in jest, would be frowned upon in Anaphe. Especially from a Healer – even one as unlikely as Little.

Little didn't require further reminding that a return to court came with its own set of rules and obligations. "Yes, sir," he sighed, only half in jest.

"Imran?" Valory asked.

"Still not in possession of an enchantment," he shot back.

Valory's lips twitched. "Very well."

They continued past the towering golden gates through the streets towards the inner city. With each level they summited the crowd grew, well-wishers taking to the streets to watch them pass in spite of the late hour. Men and women stood in the streets with children upon their shoulders, or leaned out windows waving kerchiefs, all fighting to catch a glimpse of the Prince. By the time they reached their destination no further announcement was needed. Word of Valory's arrival had spread to the City Guard, who saluted them as they crossed through the inner city gates.