Chapter Sixty

A knock on the door later that evening, roused Damion from his slumber. He kept waiting for them to leave. Not ready to join the waking world again. “Princess, we have a guest here, and your father requires you to come down and join them.”

Damion groaned, kicking out from under the covers. Wrinkling his nose at the dirty travel clothes. He would have to remember to bring some of his own garments into the room. Damion went to the door, opening it just enough to see the servant standing there, the boys face went red, as he became suddenly interested in his boots. “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t know you were indisposed.”

“It’s fine. Who is here?” Damion asked, wishing he’d put on his shirt too.

“I’m not sure, Sir. But the King has requested the Princess join him in his study.” The boy kicked his foot into the floor. His hands pressed before him.

“Okay, thank you. Let them know we’ll be down shortly.” Damion started to close the door.

“They didn’t request you, Sir. Just the Princess.” The boy looked a little wild eyed.

“It doesn’t really matter. If you’re more comfortable, just tell them she’ll be down shortly.” Damion smiled, clicking the door closed.

Volencia smiled at him from the bed, “I think you gave that poor young elf a heart attack. Not only opening my door half naked, but then to deny the demands of the king.” She laughed.

“I was definitely not what he was expecting.” Damion chuckled, crawling across the bed to kiss her gently. “I’m going to go change. I’d prefer you just stay in bed and relax, okay?”

“Not likely.” She kissed him back, sitting up so that the blankets cascaded down her body ever so slowly. “Though, I will relent if you stay in bed with me.” She gave him a mischievious smile.

“Oh, if only we could. I have a feeling it’s probably Lock or Claven, and I don’t want them anywhere near you right now.” His eyes lingered on her longingly. She pushed at him, telling him to go get ready. When he returned, he found her in a lovely green silk gown, and in need of someone to help her with the buttons on the back. “You know, if I refuse to help you, you’d be forced to stay up here or wait for Trishia or another maid to come to call.”

“You do that, and I’ll head down in my undergarments.” She quipped, frowning at him.

“Over my dead body.” He chuckled, going to her back and placing kisses along her collar and neck as he followed her instruction. Turning in his arms, she kissed him when he was done. Damion held the door open for her, then engulfed her hand in is huge one as they walked down to the study side by side.

Even after knocking on the study door, and then entering, Damion didn’t drop her hand. Though they were both expecting Lock or Claven, they were pleasantly surprised to see a dwarf sitting there. “Ahha! Friends. I was beginning to think you were going to ignore me!” The dwarf bellowed, clinking his large mug against the table with enough force that the dark amber liquid splashed over the top.

As they entered, everyone stood. The dwarf came up to Damion’s ribs. Long dark hair curled into a beard, beads decorated the ends of his mustache, coming to a point near his heart. Dark grey tunic and matching pants, silver and gold chains dangling from the wrist as he held out his hand. “Princess, I'm Calazerthlegle. Captain of the Aidlezeg army. I was hoping to speak with ya, and yer new friend. Honestly. Openly.”

“Aren't you with the Council? You were helping them that day.” She didn't smile and didn't take his hand. Her fists curling into the green silk of her skirts.

“Yes. I am. But for reasons ya don’t understand. Yet.” He bowed. “I wish ta rectify this. If ya can help us get away from them… I would be forever grateful, and we would join ya instead. Lend our steal ta yers.” He grabbed his mug, raising it to her.

When She looked back at Damion, he pressed his lips together. This is what he’d wanted all along. A chance to make more allies. “Can I get you a drink, Princess?” He waved to the table.

“Milk?” He smiled at her response.

“Milk?” The dwarf nearly shouted, “Dwarven ale will put hair on yer chest. I brought a few barrels as a gift.” He waved, and sure enough, four barrels were packed in the corner of the study.

“I’m okay with not having hair on my chest." Calazerthlegle laughed loudly. “But Damion and Gregron may like a mug.” To her surprise both nodded. “Please, let us all sit and enjoy a drink while we speak.” She took his offered hand, not wanting to offend.

Calazerthlegle nodded, “A good welcome, thank ye.” He bent below the table, where a barrel she hadn’t noticed sat open with a large copper ladle sitting over the top. A few glasses already sat by. He spooned two mugs until they were brimming.

Damion pulled out a chair for her, and she pressed her emerald green skirts aside to prevent them from bunching under her as she sat. Glad that Damion put himself between her and the dwarf. “What brings you here today?” Damion asked, putting his hand out to their guest but when they met, he gripped his forearm, in a greeting like the Samanthian’s would offer. The corners of Calazerthlegle’s lips curled up into a smirk.

“Afore we get inta that mighty uncomfortable conversation, lets enjoy some of this fine dwarven mead.” He handed Damion the first glass, who offered it to Gregron, before reaching back for the second glass.

“I’m surprised. Neigh many of ya long ears care for a good mead.” He frowned.

Damion smiled, “Actually, my brother makes an ale to die for. So, it may taste more like home than the light ales we have here in Thambair. Another fun fact, my dad has a few precious barrels of dwarven rum from the days at the Temple. They only get touched during special occasions, but I’ve never met a liquor I’ve liked better.”

“Yer not from round here then?” The dwarf was ecstatic to share his mead.

“No, I’m from Samanthia. Grew up with the hidden Clagonians.”

Calazerthlegle gave him a funny look. “Prove it.”