Calculated Conversation

"Your Majesty?"

The king's attention was drawn away for a moment to another member of the dining party who had called him leaving Ethyn with his thoughts.

The red headed man stared at the pulled out chair in disbelief. How did things like this always happen to him?

"I'm not Sir Hamberg; what do I do?" Ethyn whispered frantically to his sponsor.

The older knight turned to Gilroy. "There seems to be some misunderstanding," Sir Cyneheard tried to step in.

The steward nodded. "There was before, and I am most sorry. Squire Nuall set me straight on the proper pronunciation and spelling of Squire Hamberg's name. Forgive me for my mistake before."

Ethyn shot daggers across the table at the youth with the long blonde hair. The young man seemed oblivious to his gaze.

Nuall had obviously meant to get back at him for their confrontation, but such a childish prank was having a huge effect.

King Rhodri turned back and furrowed his brow. "Squire Hamberg, are you alright?"

"I am fine, Sire, it is just..." Ethyn must have looked very wrong, for the king's furrow deepened.

"What is it, lad?"

"I am not," Ethyn was cut short as Nuall spoke over the noise.

"Your Majesty, if I may speak on my dear friend, Squire Hamberg's behalf, he does not feel he is worthy of such an honor. If I might trade places with him, I am sure he would feel more comfortable." Nuall's voice sounded humble and sincere, but the elbow jab from his sponsor in the ribs suggested that the offer was anything but kind.

Rhodri was no fool. He knew a rivalry when he saw one. "I think Squire Hamberg knows I will not bite. I insist you join me along with Sir Cyneheard."

The older knight, having finished and cleared things up with the steward, turned with a pained expression. "Gilroy says that he will fix it for the official ceremony, but for now, let the king call you whatever he wishes. It is not wise to embarrass His Majesty in front of his guests."

Resigned to his fate, Ethyn gave a short nod. "Thank you for your kindness, Your Majesty."

At Cyneheard's insistence, Ethyn was forced to take the seat to the right of the king. It was a spot he neither deserved nor had earned, yet here he was. Despite the confusion with his name, the young man was still amazed by his good fortune.

But his moment in the sun was eclipsed as the last dinner guest made his entry. He came and bowed deeply before the king.

"Commander Borit!" Rhodri greeted him delightedly.

Borit's sharp features morphed into a handsome smile at his name. "Apologies, Sire. But there was an incident with the princess."

Rhodri lifted slightly in his chair as his muscles tensed. He was clearly ready to come to the aid of his daughter, yet the commander quickly allayed his worry.

"Do not fret. Princess Rose is quite capable for her age and with a little help, the matter is now settled. Unfortunately it caused me to be tardy…"

Borit dipped his head again. This time it was clearly for the benefit of the knights. The commander had kept the king waiting and had gotten away with it. Few had that kind of power.

"Come and join us, Commander." Rhodri encouraged the man with a wave of his hand.

Borit looked at the seat where Ethyn was situated. The redhead tried to meet his gaze with innocent indifference. Knowing that any emotion might tip off the commander to his identity, Ethyn remained as neutral as he could.

Though by the look of things, Ethyn could tell he had already struck a nerve. A dangerous flash ran through the commander's eyes. "Where would you like me to sit, Your Majesty?"

So that was it! Ethyn had been forced into sitting the commander's 'rightful' place. Or at least that is what Borit seemed to think. The king obviously did not share his concern.

"I altered the seating chart slightly. Just pick an open seat. We are all friends here anyway!" Rhodri raised his glass to the table.

Those present quickly raised their own cups. "Long live the king!" they cried boisterously. After the king took a drink, everyone followed suit except Borit, who had no cup.

The commander inhaled deeply as his face turned grim. Somehow Borit managed to hold in his anger. "Pardon me for one more moment of your time, Your Majesty."

"What is it?" Rhodri narrowed his gaze slightly. The commander was beginning to sour the mood of the party by not joining in the frivolity.

"In case there are more issues in the main dining hall, perhaps I shall accompany the princess this evening? I would hate for the burden to be too much for Her Highness." Borit's words were respectful, but there was a tone that undermined the princess which Ethyn did not like.

Borit has spoken just loudly enough for it to seem like a whisper but still have those around hear him.

Rhodri scowled but seemed ready to be rid of the dark cloud. "Very well, do as you see fit, but do not ruin the atmosphere there as you almost did here."

The tension broke as Borit chuckled and his face broke into another winsome grin. "Duly noted, Your Majesty. Thank you for reminding me that I do not always have to be so serious."

Rhodri also laughed and slapped his knee. "That's the spirit. Enjoy yourself. And remind Rose that I would appreciate her making an appearance here when it is convenient."

Clicking the heels of his sturdy ceremonial boots, Borit shot one more glance Ethyn's way, bowed and left. The redhead released the breath he had been holding. There was a split second where the young man was almost sure he had been recognized.

If that had happened at the king's table, Ethyn had no idea how it would have ended, but thankfully it had not come to pass.

Now that all the guests were situated, the king raised his ringed fingers toward the steward. Gilroy clapped twice and the first course was served.

While the knights and king drank honeywine, the squires were given a sweetened juice from fruit of the palace gardens.

Although they were soon to be equal to their sponsors, that time had not yet come. Acting out of drunkenness now could stop them from being knighted, so precautions were taken to help all keep their heads.

The food was delicious and the king's conversation lively. Sir Cyneheard was a master conversationalist, and along with a few of the other knights, as well as the infuriating Nuall who was sitting across from him, Ethyn did not have to say much, which was fine by him.

He was deep into his main course before he had to utter a word.

"Squire Hamberg? Remind me of your given name." Rhodri turned to the young man expectantly.

The young man winced at the mispronunciation of his name, but was relieved to be able to give an alternative. "I am Ethyn, Your Majesty," he said humbly.

"A fine name! I would have named my own child that if I had had a boy. Now, Ethyn, I am not familiar with your family. Please tell me about them." The king's dark eyes were friendly, and the young man saw no reason to hide what the king could easily discover if he wished.

"My mother died when I was young and I was raised by someone outside my family. I am the last of my kin." The young man said the words without sadness or self-pity. It was just how things were.

Rhodri's face softened with compassion. "My condolences. I know you have done your family proud in accomplishing the trials to be a knight. What if..."

The king got no further, for from across the table, a goblet fell right into Ethyn's lap, filling the upper portion of his legs with juice.

"My apologies!" Nuall chirped. "How clumsy of me! I am just nervous to be around such an honorable and powerful man. Please forgive me!"

But Ethyn knew the action wasn't clumsy at all...it was calculated.

And now he was soaked.