Trace was prodded by his two guards until he walked faster. They were practically stepping on his heels! He skipped a step, unwilling to break into a full-out run and be out of breath when he finally met the king. All this hurrying seemed a bit ridiculous.
He was already sweaty and dirty from his work in the stables. There was no reason to make it worse, especially when he was about to meet his monarch. Maybe the guards wanted him to appear unsightly on purpose?
He was urged up flights of stairs and through hallways. How large was the palace inside, anyway? It seemed absurd to have a building so large, but here it was.
Finally, the guards stopped at the doorway to a grand hall. A red carpet began at the far end, at the top of a dais where an ornate throne stood. King Harold was seated there with a grim expression.
