"You look radiant, my love," the queen said. "That dress!"
"It was yours, mother," Alystra said. "Slightly adapted to fit me."
"Yes but it looks better on you than it ever did on me," the queen told her.
"My Lord Dumar," Celouise said then. "We are honoured by your presence."
"Majesty," Dumar nodded, using the formality that seemed to be expected. "I was reliably informed I had no choice," he added with a look at Grethron.
"While that is not exactly the case," the queen said with a smirk at the old man. "I think you are going to enjoy this evening. Eat, drink, dance with my daughter and have a little fun," she added, actually winking.
"How is your new son?" Dumar asked the queen's brother as he hovered protectively behind his wife who sat before him, holding a bundle.
"A fine boy!" Kalabar announced. "Lungs like bellows. He wakes us often for feeding but neither of us mind."
"My Lady," Dumar said to Nerine before kneeling in front of her daughter.
Marthon looked serious and sombre, probably having been coached to be on her best behaviour.
"Has Ganna killed that dragon yet?" Dumar asked her.
"Not yet," Marthon said, swinging her legs inside the folds of pink material. "She is still waiting for her prince to arrive."
"But what if he's off doing something else?" Dumar asked as Nerine looked down at him in surprise. "Will she go looking for him?"
"Maybe," Marthon said uncertainly. "It is something to consider."
"I was not aware you knew my daughter, my Lord," Narine said as Dumar rose once more.
"You were...indisposed when we first met, your Grace," Dumar replied using the title Vilt had coached him on a few hours before. "Bringing this young gent into the world," he added with a smile.
"Oh, it was you Marthon spoke of. I want to thank you for making her feel safe."
"You're welcome," Dumar said. "I didn't realise I had but there you go."
Dumar stepped away, finding Alystra watching him with interest. He approached, took her hand, kissed it, making her blush and took her to a chair, sitting beside her in another as he surveyed the room.
Everyone, with almost no exceptions, was facing them, staring at the royal family and Dumar himself. Yet the atmosphere was light, the mood good and the people were all smiling. Dumar took a breath and blew it out, settling his nerves.
"A problem?" Alystra asked gently.
"Not really," Dumar said. "It's just...I've been isolated my whole life and big crowds like this are a little…"
"I understand," she said kindly. "I find it a little daunting myself."
"Then let's be nervous together," Dumar said with a smile.
Alystra nodded with a small smile of her own and they turned back as a loud voice announced the queen was about to speak.
"My lords, ladies and gentlemen," Celouise began after Waraval had helped her to stand. "We have had the honour to meet a new friend to the kingdom of Rothmury. A man who not only aided in thwarting the usurpation of my throne but is also responsible for the slaying of the Dal!" She cried as the gathered nobles and guests roared their approval.
"The ending of which," she went on when they had fallen silent. "Restored my daughter, Princess Alystra's, emotions to her again."
This was followed by another loud cheer and Dumar looked at Alystra who had paled a little more, her knuckles white where she gripped the chair.
Don't freak out. He urged her silently.
Dumar tapped the back of her hand, drawing her attention.
"Together, yeah?"
Alystra looked at him with gratitude and managed a weak smile, nodding.
"After everything he has done, for myself personally and in service of the kingdom," Celouise continued. "He has asked for nothing in return save a few meals and a bed," she announced to more cheers.
"We have struggled to think of a suitable reward for the services he has rendered so far. However an idea came to me a few days ago, which I believe is recompense well earned. Ladies and gentlemen I present to you Lord Dumar," Celouise announced loudly.
"What's this?" Dumar asked. "I don't need any reward," he said to Alystra.
The princess looked at him with something unreadable in her expression. Something Dumar had never seen before and confusion joined the unease inside him.
"You know, don't you?" He asked her. "You knew all along and didn't tell me!"
Alystra shrugged, biting her lower lip to keep from laughing as Dumar stood and went over to where the queen waited.
I hate this. I hate this. Dumar thought as his back turned to the crowd. He was incredibly aware of his vulnerability in this position and knew one thrust from a sword could end him if placed above his body armour.
If this Malthrom bastard's got anyone in here with one of those fucking things in their chest, I'm fucked.
The queen looked up into his eyes and simply mouthed the words, 'Thank you,' as she stepped down beside him.
"It is with great care and consideration I bestow upon thee, Dumar, the title of Knight Protector of the Realm," she announced.
The room went silent, the only sound coming from the young Jarhine who decided it was time for him to be fed once more. Whispers rolled through the room as people took in this news, Dumar assuming it was controversial in some way.
"Dumar!" Grethron shouted, throwing his fist up. "Dumar!"
The big man looked at the necromancer, seeing the look of surprise and shock on his face at the announcement.
He didn't know. Dumar realised.
Alystra stood and began clapping madly as a few people took up chanting his name, the chant spreading through the room eventually until all were cheering and screaming his name.
Celouise held her hands up for silence as she took a large, ornate, golden instrument from a servant who carried it on a velvet cushion. It looked like some kind of club with a handle at one end and a gem encrusted, thicker section at the other.
The servant placed the cushion before Dumar and he somehow knew he had to kneel. His perspective changed as he knelt before the queen, looking up into her grateful eyes as she laid the mace on one shoulder and the other.
"I knight thee, Lord Dumar, as Protector of the Realm and grant thee all riches, lands and chattels associated with said title. Arise, Sir knight," she added.
Dumar got to his feet and turned to face the crowd of people behind him who cheered and chanted his name.
The grinning, happy faces and cheers were infectious and his nerves began to subside as he faced them.
They like me. He realised. And not for what I might do for them but for what I've already done.
The concept was new to Dumar. A vast contrast to what the Company had wanted and thought of him. They saw him as an instrument, a tool that did as they said without complaint or reward. These Rothmurians were so utterly different it was almost a shock to his system.
Celouise moved beside him and raised her arms for quiet.
"There is one more thing before we celebrate fully," she announced, gesturing to a servant who brought out another cushion.
"We had this made for the new Knight Protector," she added as she lifted the thing on the cushion.
Around two feet in length Dumar saw a gilded handle, inset with slips of gemstone or coloured glass.
At the top, just above a crosspiece, a white blade had been set, curved and coming to a sharp point. The queen handed the blade to Dumar who hefted it, feeling the weight and studied it further. On closer inspection the blade appeared to be some kind of hard, glassy material.
"One of the Dal's teeth," Celouise announced. "The beast's skeleton will be preserved where it sits, a reminder to all of the might of the Rothmury kingdom and its Knight Protector."
A tooth!? Dumar stared in wonder.
Whoever had made this blade must have been a master as the craftsmanship was exquisite and the polished surface gleamed like glass. Not a trace of plaque or staining had been left, the only sign it was organic being a slight ripple in the surface.
Another servant brought over a tooled leather belt and scabbard, a representation of the Dal cut into the surface. Dumar hung it over one shoulder and sheathed the blade.
"Now let the ball begin!" Celouise cried out.
At the far end the band took up a fast tempo, the drum beat loud and infectious. Some kind of stringed instrument picked out an intricate tune while whistle type flutes joined in.
As if on cue the people below him separated and took up places in two lines along the middle of the room, men facing women.
The dances were fairly simple, moving together, then apart, touching hands and staring into eyes.
Young and old, men and women, all danced to the music without separation of age or class. Celouise, Grethron and Waraval all joined in with one dance or another, Waraval even dragging one of the serving maids in to twirl her, laughing and blushing, around the hall.
"And how do you find your new title, Sir Dumar?" Alystra asked with a smirk.
"Odd," Dumar said. "And what are chattels?"
Alystra chuckled, a musical sound he found he loved.
"The things inside the buildings," she said. "Furniture, drapes, that kind of thing. Do you dance?" She asked.
"Not generally," Dumar said. "But I'll give it a go if you do."
He stood, offering his hand when the music came to a stuttering halt. Four people stood in the centre of the ballroom, each one covered in black material. The revellers pulled back, sensing something was wrong. Dumar glanced at Grethron who had moved protectively before the queen even though she had been instantly surrounded by guards.
One of the figures pulled its hood back to reveal a terrified face.
"I-I am sorry, your majesty," the woman said in a tense voice. "I cannot control my movements."
Grethron looked at Dumar as Fultard stepped towards the figures.
"All is well, lass, he lied as Dumar pulled the pistol from its holster. "Keep calm now."
a second figure, then a third drew their hoods back another woman and a man revealing similar features and expressions of terror. When the final figure revealed itself, the room took a collective gasp of breath as the former being was obviously dead.