Simon stayed for two more days after that. Each night he made it known that he was sleeping in the boys room, and each night he spent half the night awake, waiting for someone to make their move. He doubted he’d catch anyone by being so obvious, but it was the natural place to start.

On the second day, he griped a bit in private conversations, letting it be known that he tired of this arrangement. “I’m a knight, not a babysitter,” he told a few of the guards, sure that it would get around.

On the third day he even said as much to Varten over dinner. “This is your kingdom, and these are your men,” he explained when Simon protested. “You don’t need me, and I can’t very well slaughter the cent… the monsters that beset your people while I’m safe behind these walls, now can I?”

The boy grudgingly accepted that, but Simon could see the hurt that his words had caused him. That was okay. No one else would believe it if Varten didn’t. Simon wasn’t going anywhere, though. Not until he made a few more efforts to see what rats could be stirred up by his antics.

That night, Simon made a big show of leaving the keep before slipping in shortly afterward. He lingered in the stables for a while, then he stripped off his armor and he climbed up a trellis to slip through the window into Varten’s room, where he waited.

Nothing might happen, he reminded himself as he settled into a comfortable spot behind where the door opened, and listened to the child’s even breathing. Even if it doesn’t, you still need to leave tomorrow. There’s more people to save than just one kid, however many lives he keeps popping up in.

That was easy to tell himself, but harder to believe. Truthfully he could do this for night after night if he wanted. He could play enough games that the men here would live in fear for weeks or months that he might just return, but it would be a pain in the ass. Really, he just wanted to get back on the road, and he was forced to admit that if it were anyone else he would have just brought him along already.

As the hours wore on, Simon’s eyes began to feel heavy. Still, he was pretty sure that he’d been entirely awake when the door next to him swung silently open.

When that happened, he didn’t breathe. He just waited to see if it was one of the slugs he expected, or if they’d sent someone else to do their dirty work. He was unsurprised to see the man that Varten had pointed out earlier enter the room. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Maybe the boy really can see something, he thought. Or maybe he just has a healthy sense of self preservation.

Either way, Simon rose very slowly as he studied the man’s inky soul. He was unsurprised to find some traces of magic there, though it wasn’t clear whether that was because he used it or was just under the influence of someone who did. It was a riddle, but not one that he let distract him.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Simon never gave the man a chance to strike. No sooner did the man rip away the cover to bring his knife down on the sleeping child than Simon lashed out from the shadows, taking off the assassin’s hand. The man’s reaction was puzzling, though.

The courtier didn’t scream, or panic as a normal person might when they were maimed. Instead, he looked at Simon curiously, and then he opened his mouth. In that moment Simon felt sure he was about to cast a spell, and only his desire to learn more stayed his hand from beheading the man.

In that moment of hesitation, though, Varten leapt from his bed like a rabid animal, holding a knife he must have stolen from dinner. Simon berated himself for not noticing that, but not for failing to stop the child.

If losing his hand hadn’t sufficiently distracted the man, then Varten’s savagery certainly did. He still managed to gasp, “Vrazig,” but instead of striking Simon down with a lightning bolt, the sparks went wild, and arced between his sword, the nearest candelabra, and the oil lamp on the bedside table. That last item managed to ignite at least, though Simon’s leather gloves protected him from the worst of it.

As Varten pulled out the blade to stab the man another time, Simon struck the assassin’s head from his shoulders, and both he and Varten fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Even that wasn’t enough to stop the boy from stabbing him murderously, over and over again.

“I told you there was something wrong with that one,” the boy insisted when Simon finally stopped his frantic bloodlust and pulled away the knife. “I told father too, but he didn’t believe me.”

“I believed you enough to be here didn’t I?” Simon countered. That earned him a look of thanks even if the boy didn’t say the words.

“You did,” he agreed. “But what are we to do now? I can’t stay in a home with servants trying to assassinate me, and certainly not if you leave!”

Simon nodded. “We could purge the staff harshly. I could kill any man with a whiff of taint or treason after this, but that might only buy you a year or two. The rot runs deep in your domain.”

Varten was silent for just long enough for Simon to wonder what words would spring from his mouth. His wildly fluctuating aura certainly gave no clue beyond rage. Does he even wonder how much jeopardy he’s really in without his father to protect him? Simon wondered.

“Take me with you!” he said finally.

Simon hesitated before asking, “So you can flee danger, or because you want to learn to fight?”

“So I can kill everyone who deserves it!” he shot back. It wasn’t a ringing endorsement, by any means, but it was hard to condemn the kid for them considering the blood he was splattered with was still warm.

“If you go with me you’ll leave this life behind forever,” Simon warned him. “Someone else will claim your birthright, and you’ll sleep in ditches and beneath trees instead of in this fine bed.”

The boy didn’t even hesitate. “I don’t care about that,” he spat. “Someone else can have this stupid building. I just want to learn to fight so I can strike down centaurs, warlocks, traitors, and sneak thieves. It’s the only peace, that… I…”

Simon wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to say, and he never got the chance to find out, because the words were dissolved by the boy’s tears. They did a number on Simon’s misgivings too. The very last thing he’d planned on doing in this life was taking a mortal enemy as a squire, but here he was, doing just that.

He suppressed a sigh. There’s no way this is on Helades’ plan.