Varre had some doubts about this plan. The king was certainly very friendly, but refusing to go to his birthday would be a bit insulting. If someone had refused to come to Varre’s own birthday, he’d certainly be disappointed.

  Then again, it’s not like it’s never happened to me before, he thought, I’m just a random nephew. We’ve only met a couple of times in the last few months. I’ll just tell him I got sick or something. Or hell, maybe I should just man up and tell him about this Esteban guy. If he’s really as great as they say, Mikkel should understand.

  With his mind made up, he put his plan into action. He couldn’t tell Benjamin about it. The chamberlain would absolutely protest this decision. Of course, Varre was the duke. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. Still, he did not need to hear the servant’s complaining.

  Instead, he let Benjamin arrange a carriage like normal. He just had to insist that the chamberlain stays home for the night.

  “Are you certain, your highness?” Benjamin asked, “you’re still suffering from your amnesia. I don’t want to put you in any awkward situations.”

  “Relax,” Varre waved his hand dismissively, “it’s gonna be fine. I’ll be among friends and family there. Besides, it’ll be good for me. Maybe, if I need to rely on myself, it’ll help jog my memory?”

  “Sir, haven’t you been going out on your own every night for the last several months?” the chamberlain protested, “I don’t believe you’ve made any progress on that end so far.”

  “True, but I haven’t been to the castle yet have I? What’s the harm in trying?”

  Benjamin finally relented, though he made Varre promise to be careful. If anything happened, he should pretend that he is feeling sick and return home immediately.

  With that sorted out, the duke entered the provided carriage and set off towards the castle. As soon as they turned the corner and entered the main boulevard, Varre asked the driver to change their destination. They should head to Nilo’s manor instead.

  The driver received a bribe of a couple silver coins to keep this quiet and they soon arrived at the noble’s mansion. Varre got out and switched to a less conspicuous carriage.

  Esteban was performing at a tavern in the craftsmen quarter. If the duke showed up in his fancy six horse vehicle, with a giant royal emblem plastered on the doors, it would cause a massive scene. The elven bard himself might even panic and flee, if he found out that someone from the royal family was to participate in his show. The ballads were so controversial, that Esteban could easily be arrested. Or worse.

  The four friends met up at the tavern and took their seats. Even though the bard wasn’t meant to arrive till the late evening, the place was already packed. Fortunately, Lester’s connections came in handy. The merchant managed to agree with the owner earlier and a small table was prepared for Varre and his companions.

  The show was better than the duke was expecting. Esteban was nothing short of amazing. His music was hypnotizing. Even the pair of human performers who served as back up were some of the best Varre’d seen in the capital.

  The ballads were even better. Though the duke had lived in Logres for less than a year, he still found the jokes hilarious. Just as advertised, the bard wasn’t afraid of political commentary. He openly mocked the king, and all his family members. Surprisingly, even Varre got a short segment. Esteban joked that though the duke had survived the Soulkiller plague, it came at the cost of his own soul.

  Varre got a little sweaty at how close the bard got to the truth, though he wasn’t above laughing at his own expense. His friends joined in the laughter. Fortunately, none of the patrons recognized that the duke himself sat among them. He wasn’t that well known.

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  The show lasted late into the night. When Varre finally made it home, swaying, Benjamin was already asleep. One of the guards had to let him in, but this way, the duke could avoid any scrutinizing questions. At least until tomorrow.

  -*-*-*-

  The next day, the duke got rudely woken up by a frantic chamberlain running into his room.

  “Sir, get up. Get dressed. Quickly!” Benjamin started ruffling through a cabinet and pulling out clean clothes.

  Varre rubbed his eyes. The sun pouring in through the window only disoriented him. “Wha-? What happened?”

  The servant threw a clean shirt onto the bed. “The Royal Guards are here for you!”

  That did the trick. Though he still suffered from a hangover, the duke jumped out of the bed and began changing into the fresh clothes. Oh no. Did I make a mistake, he panicked as he pulled on a fresh pair of pantaloons, is the king really that pissed I missed his party?

  Once he was dressed, Varre got ushered down the stairs by the chamberlain. Just as he was told, a pair of armored warriors with dour faces stood in the entrance hall. They stared at the duke the entire time as he rushed towards them. Well, he thought, all I can do now is hope for the best.

  “What is this about?” Varre asked.

  “Please, come with us. This is a very serious situation,” one of the guards responded laconically.

  The duke gulped, but decided to try his luck. “Am I not allowed to know what I am being called for?”

  The soldiers exchanged glances. Then, the first one said, “I’m afraid not. We are under strict orders.”

  “Please come with us,” the second one repeated.

  Varre did not want to argue further. He followed the pair of knights outside, towards a small carriage. At first, Benjamin tried to follow, but the second soldier held out his hand to stop him. Whatever fate awaited the duke, he’d have to face it alone.

  Once he got inside the vehicle, they set off towards the castle. Varre knew the area well by this point and he watched the crowds outside. Everything seemed like a perfectly normal day. None of the servants or even nobles knew what had happened by this point.

  The guards too sat inside the carriage, sitting on the opposite bench. They stared at the duke the entire time, as if ready to stop him if he so much as thought of escaping.

  After a short, anxious ride, they finally arrived at the castle. No one said anything throughout the entire journey.

  When Varre got out, the courtyard was unusually silent. Normally, it was buzzing with activity. The gardeners maintained the decorative flowers and bushes, servants were feeding the horses and clearing out stables, laborers were unloading carts with supplies and taking them out to the basements. Now, the only people present were the guards, standing by the gate and the main entrance.

  Varre was escorted inside. The entrance hall was the first place where he saw some regular people. A few servants were walking through a nearby corridor, though they stopped when they saw the duke. They quietly gossiped as he passed.

  Varre was led straight towards the throne room. This is bad, he thought, why are they taking me there? Why would the king want to resolve this in such a public manner? I mean sure, missing his party was slightly insulting, but Mikkel wouldn’t execute me over this. Right?

  Stressful thoughts kept passing through his head until he finally arrived at the grand chamber. Surprisingly, it was almost deserted. There were no crowds of nobles gathered around. Even the throne was empty. Aside from the guards, there were only three people inside the chamber, gathering in the middle.

  “What is he doing here?!” the first man yelled out. He was a young aristocrat, around the same age as Varre. He had short dark hair and was clean shaven. The two men had never met before, though this stranger proudly displayed his personal coat of arms on his vest. It was similar to the royal one, though Varre noticed a couple small differences.

  “Please remain calm, Count Neville,” the glasses-wearing woman silenced him. She had simpler clothes, though they did bear the real royal mark. She must have been some kind of official. She too had dark brown hair, though they were tied in a bun. She felt vaguely familiar, though Varre could not recall where he’s met her.

  “Does this mean what I think it means Marna?” the second man asked, staring at the girl. The duke did recognize him at least. This was Captain Hakon, the head of the Royal Guard. Varre had several opportunities to meet him over the last few months, so he did remember the man’s face.

  The woman, apparently named Marna nodded and stepped forward. She stopped right in front of the duke. She had a tense expression as she stared at the young man. Then, she nodded, as if to reassure herself and turned around to face the others.

  “The king is dead! Long live the king!” she called out.