Iris changed her clothes without hurrying.

  Shawn, for his part, was paying very close attention to the wall.

  It was a very interesting wall.

  It had stones. Several. All very well placed. Truly remarkable masonry work for a medieval fantasy world.

  Shawn studied each stone with a dedication he had never applied to anything in his life.

  From the other side of the room he could hear the sound of fabric shifting, of something being fastened, of short steps on the stone floor. He didn't look. He had no intention of looking.

  He had enough problems without adding that one to the list.

  Iris, for her part, had noticed the strange black lines on Shawn's right forearm.

  Out of the corner of her eye.

  Discreetly.

  'A tattoo?' thought Iris, adjusting the red cape over her shoulders without taking her eyes off Shawn's forearm. 'It doesn't look decorative. The distribution is too specific.'

  A mental pause.

  'Symbols from some group? An organization? An order?'

  She didn't recognize the pattern.

  And Iris recognized almost every pattern that existed in her kingdom.

  That, on its own, was already information.

  "I'm ready…" said Shawn, finally turning around.

  Iris turned.

  She was wearing a gray dress with an elegant cut, fitted at the top and falling cleanly downward. The red cape hung from her shoulders. Her dark hair fell loose on either side of her face.

  She looked Shawn up and down.

  "Lovely," she said, in a completely natural tone.

  Shawn kept his expression neutral.

  The dress they had brought him was dark blue, fine fabric, with small embroidery at the collar and cuffs.

  "Why did you give me this?" asked Shawn, looking at the fabric with a flat expression. "Something simpler would have been better."

  "Because we're going to a banquet," replied Iris in a calm tone.

  "A what?"

  "A banquet."

  Shawn processed that.

  Then looked at the window.

  Through the window, the sky was visible. A sky with the specific colors of early dawn, that tone between deep blue and pale orange that meant the sun had barely started rising.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Then he looked at Iris.

  "When did you arrange that?" asked Shawn, his voice trying to sound calm and not entirely succeeding.

  "I gave the staff the order a moment ago."

  "A moment ago…?" repeated Shawn. "Did you do it when you asked the guard for our clothes?"

  "Yes."

  Shawn looked at the door.

  Then looked at Iris.

  Then looked at the door again.

  'A banquet,' he thought, making a genuine effort to make sense of the situation.

  Shawn had read enough fantasy stories to know more or less what a banquet meant.

  Nobles. Long tables. Speeches.

  But above all…

  Trouble.

  Shawn looked at Iris with a very careful expression.

  "In this world…" asked Shawn, choosing his words with great care, "do they call breakfast a banquet?"

  Iris looked at him.

  With an expression that mixed confusion with something that almost seemed like amusement.

  "No," said Iris.

  "Ah," said Shawn.

  "I gave the castle staff the order to prepare one right now," explained Iris, with calm patience. "So that everyone can meet you."

  Shawn opened his mouth.

  Closed it.

  "Why did you do that?" he asked.

  "Isn't it natural," replied Iris, in a genuinely curious tone, "for everyone to know and respect the face of the girl who healed me?"

  "You're not fully healed yet," said Shawn, automatically.

  Iris smiled.

  She took a step toward Shawn.

  Then another.

  She stopped close enough that Shawn had to make a conscious effort not to step back.

  "Then," said Iris, her voice low and calm, "everyone will know that from today onward, the queen will be in your care."

  Shawn didn't respond right away.

  In his head, however, something clicked.

  'Wait,' thought Shawn, watching Iris's face without letting his expression change. 'I've seen this before.'

  And yes.

  He had.

  In the visions God had shown him, among all those fragments of Iris's past, there was a pattern that repeated with a consistency that couldn't be coincidence.

  Iris attached herself to a person.

  Completely.

  With a loyalty that ran in one direction only.

  And if that person betrayed her...

  Shawn swallowed.

  'She killed them herself with her own hands,' the thought finished, the images coming back with a clarity he found deeply uncomfortable.

  'Okay,' thought Shawn, keeping his face completely neutral. 'Okay, okay, okay. A line needs to be drawn. Right now. Before this goes any further.'

  "My queen… I have a wish," said Shawn.

  Iris raised an eyebrow with curiosity.

  "Which?"

  Shawn took a breath.

  "I want to live in a small house in the countryside," he said, with completely genuine conviction. "In a quiet, isolated place. Surrounded by animals. With the love of my life." He paused half a second. "And with children. Lots of children."

  It wasn't a lie.

  Shawn had spent hours, entire days, playing farming games on his computer. There was something about that lifestyle, about the idea of a peaceful space of one's own, far from everything, that he found genuinely appealing.

  But it was also, Shawn calculated, exactly the kind of declaration that should drive away a queen's interest.

  Because a queen wouldn't be interested in someone with such simple standards.

  A queen, by definition, would have to find the whole idea repulsive — the countryside, the manual labor, the mud and the animals.

  It was logical.

  It was obvious.

  It was a perfect plan.

  Iris looked at him in silence for a few seconds.

  "Is that truly what you want?" she asked, with a curiosity that sounded completely sincere.

  Shawn nodded several times, smiling.

  "Completely."

  Iris considered that.

  "I could give you a large mansion in the capital without any trouble…" said Iris, in a practical tone. "But a house that meets those specific conditions…"

  Iris paused briefly.

  "There isn't one like that anywhere in my kingdom right now. I would have to commission a new build."

  "There's no need for that," replied Shawn, quickly. "It's a very long-term wish. A goal. Right now my mission is to spread the word of God."

  Iris let out a short laugh.

  Just one.

  But it was genuine.

  "You're a strange person," she said, looking at him with something Shawn couldn't quite classify.

  "Yes," replied Shawn, without hesitation. "I am." He paused exactly one second. "And the more you get to know me, the more you'll realize just how weird I really am."

  Iris laughed.

  It was a longer laugh this time.

  Then she extended her hand and took Shawn's with complete naturalness.

  "Follow me to the banquet," she said, turning toward the door.

  Shawn looked at Iris's hand over his.

  Then looked at the door.

  Then swallowed.