The Lost Hero - Chapter 9

Vabians had a very different attitude toward royalty than Athus. Someone barged into his borrowed room and drew back the curtains much too early.

Ero grimaced, rolling over to block the light that sought him out on the massive bed. It wasn’t as if any of these soft-handed nobles actually worked the land they owned, was it? Why then did they need to be up with the cocks? Since whoever it was wasn’t trying to be stealthy, he released his knife tucked under his pillow.

“Your highness?”

Ero blinked his vision clear to find a small, round man standing next to the bed.

“Your highness, are you awake?”

He was now. “Who are you?”

“I am Vin Usser, of Handdon Province. Her majesty appointed me to be your serving man while you stay with us. Unless, of course, your own servant has accompanied you?”

Ero hovered between amusement and annoyance. Juen knew well enough he didn’t have any servants. Firn didn’t count; she only drew a salary to assuage Athus’ conscience. Ero doubted anything would budge the woman from her reign over the household.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Then allow me to say it is an honor, my lord, to serve one as storied as yourself.”

Ero sat the rest of the way up and rubbed his face. “‘Storied?’”

This Vin moved much quicker than a man of his girth would be expected. Ero watched fascinated as he bustled about the large room.

“Oh, yes, my prince. The tale of your battle with the Nagor. Or when you pierced the eye of the Great Windrake with the Sacred Arrow of Zhalguhl.”

Embarrassed, Ero kicked back the bedclothes. “What are you doing?”

Vin shook out a tunic. “Seeing as you brought little in the way of clothing, I took the liberty of having our tailors provide you with appropriate garments. The fit, of course, leaves something to be desired, but in a few days, all will be well.”

The color was not quite right, but then Vabia likely had as few besum root as they did azual flowers. The tunic was cut after the Vabian fashion, longer and slim through the waist. Ero washed at the basin and let Vin settle the garment over his head.

“I assumed you would not want your mail today, your highness. I have our best armorer cleaning it and the rest of your kit.”

Ero tried not to hunch his shoulders. He felt naked. No hauberk, no greaves, no bracers. No knives. The trousers were tighter than he usually wore and the new boots stiff.

“How does it feel, my prince?”

He couldn’t very well do some tumbling to test the fabrics’ give, now could he? “Well enough.”

Vin beamed. “Allow me to dress your hair.”

“I’m sorry, what?”