And So It Begins Read Online Free Page A

and dispose of trash.
    “Another message arrived from the border! It’s Prince Adrien! He’s hurt!”
    What? The words startled Kherin from his relaxed pose, and the book he had been reading dropped to the ground as he bolted up from the bench. He ignored it as he rounded the hedge, grimacing at the irritating pull of muscle that still plagued his leg despite the mended bone. Two weeks had passed since his leg brace had been removed, though Kherin was reminded too often that sudden movements still made the muscles twist painfully, especially now that the air had grown cooler with the promise of an early winter. Two serving girls stood on the stone path outside the open kitchen entrance, one of them gripping the edge of a mop bucket, the ground around them wet with discarded water. Both of them let out audible gasps as Kherin strode into view, followed by hasty curtsies and stuttered addresses in deference to the prince. Kherin approached without acknowledging either, his attention fixed firmly on the younger of the two.
    Her name was Clarice, and she was no more than twelve, with pale hair pulled tightly away from a round and freckled face. The daughter of a castle baker, Clarice had been put to work through her mother’s insistence and under her mother’s eye, but right now she clutched the empty mop bucket with fingers that had gone white. Under the prince’s gaze, she blanched pale enough to match them. Kherin didn’t normally condone terrorizing children, but with the words she had said….
    “The message,” Kherin demanded, putting the full authority of his royal status in his voice as he towered over her. “What exactly did it say?”
    Frightened eyes flitted to the second girl, Jira, darker and a few years older, and wise enough to step away from the anxious prince.
    “The message, my lord…,” she stammered hesitantly, bringing her eyes back. “It wasn’t written. Defender Ren brought it from… from Gravlorn….”
    Kherin took a slow breath. Messages had begun arriving shortly after Derek’s departure, from Gravlorn and other border cities, relating the sudden, intense fighting the likes of which hadn’t been seen in years. The northerners had begun crossing Trian’s Ford, Llarien’s bordering river, and in numbers high enough to warrant more attention than an occasional skirmish and covering the length of the border from east to west. News of the crossings had sharply echoed Derek’s warning to his father just over a month ago, and brought images to Kherin’s mind of the single northerner burned in Dennor, though it was a sight he hadn’t seen in person.
    But none of the messages had been verbal.
    Until now.
    Written words rarely made it to the king’s hands without the bearers reading them first, and the servants reading them second. It was an unspoken but widely known fact, and one Kherin himself had exploited in the past. A verbal message was designed to keep its contents secret. How this servant—Clarice—had learned the words of a verbal message, Kherin had no idea. He did know it wouldn’t have come from Adrien. None of the messages had; they were sent by the Defender Leader of each camp. But each message from Gravlorn had assured them of the elder prince’s well being.
    Until now.
    Kherin took another breath and then spoke again, his voice low and steady. “What did the message from Gravlorn say, Clarice?”
    “My lord,” the girl began again worriedly. “I—it said only that Prince Adrien was hurt, and the healer was caring for him.”
    “Nothing more?” Kherin pressed, hearing the harshness and mildly regretting the way Clarice shrank away from him, but unrelenting nonetheless. “How he was hurt? How badly?”
    “No, my lord. But it… Ren said others have died. Defenders, my lord.”
    The blood drained from Kherin’s face, and his gut clenched at the words. The serving girl paled further, her fingers twisting on the edge of the mop bucket.
    Kherin froze her with his