I Became an Exposition Dump Machine

The torch crackled between us as Leofric stared at me. “An enchanted mushroom,” he repeated, and I immediately wished he hadn’t.

“Your Highness, please. His Majesty attacked my personal maid. He bit her neck and pulled on her flesh with his teeth. I saw it.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, it’s just that I didn’t actually witness it — at least not the me now. Leofric said nothing, and the longer he watched me, the more absurd my explanation sounded. First a dead king, then a magical mushroom, and now an accusation that the ruler of Nethmarch had tried to eat a servant. If I admitted I’d read it all in a book before falling into a manhole, he might drag me back upstairs and hand me to my sister.

“Please believe me,” I added, but he turned and continued down the stairs. I stood there for a moment, unsure whether I was supposed to follow, until the torchlight began to recede. Then I hurried after him, lifting my skirt to keep it from catching beneath my slippers.

“Your Highness?” He didn’t answer. My steps scuffed against the stone, embarrassingly loud in the narrow passage. By the time he stopped, I was breathing hard from trying to keep up. He ran one hand along the wall, searching for something, and I recognized the place from the novel. There was a concealed opening here, with one passage leading to his private chambers and another going beneath the keep.

Leofric pressed a stone near his shoulder. Part of the wall shifted inward, and he slipped through. I followed him, only to recoil at the smell.

“Oh, God.” I covered my nose with my sleeve. Sewage flowed through a channel beside the narrow landing, and a little wooden boat rocked against the stone, secured by a rope to an iron ring. Beyond a low archway, I could just make out open water. The sea. I’d fallen into a sewer in my old life only to find myself standing in another one. The universe had a terrible sense of humor.

“This is where my responsibility ends, Lady Alix,” Leofric said, indicating the boat. “Row through that passage and follow the shoreline until you reach the beach.”

I stared at the oars lying inside it. There was my escape: no guards, no sister, and no need to stay in a kingdom about to be overrun by the undead. I could row ashore, find somewhere to hide, perhaps even leave Nethmarch. At least I knew what was coming, which was more than most people could say.

The boat knocked softly against the landing as Leofric turned away. Tonight, if the novel’s events continued unchanged, he would meet his loyal vassals in the palace gardens. His reanimated father would appear, Leofric would kill him, and my family would accuse him of murdering the king. I’d cried over his ending when he was only a character on a page. Now he had just helped me escape a sister who wanted me dead, and I was considering leaving him to face that future alone.

I took a step toward the boat, then stopped. Damn it.

“No, Your Highness. Don’t you believe me?”

He turned back, his frown deepening. “I know what you’re doing, de Vaucroix. You’re trying to save yourself with lies. You’re one of them, after all. Just like your father, you think you can bend me to your will.”

“I am trying to keep you alive.”

“And I have given you the means to keep yourself alive.” He gestured toward the boat. “Take it.”

He wasn’t wrong that leaving would be sensible. I’d spent years cheering for him through a book, but that was rather different from choosing to accompany him into a trap. I looked at the boat again. It was close enough to reach in two steps, and I couldn’t make myself take either of them.

“Listen to me first, please. I had a dream,” I said, my voice rising higher than I intended. “I dreamt of your ruin. Of House Hartham’s ruin.”

His expression hardened. Steel scraped against a scabbard, and suddenly the sword I’d admired in illustrations was pointed at me. It looked considerably less impressive when I was the one standing in front of it.

“I warn you, de Vaucroix. Do not push me. I have little patience to spare for a viper like you.”

There was hardly any room to retreat without stepping off the landing. Before I could lose my nerve, I reached for the tip of his sword and guided it beneath my chin.

“Don’t,” he said.

I held it there anyway, painfully aware that one wrong movement could end my second life in a sewer. “Then you shall have my head if my words do not prove true. Tonight, you’re meeting your vassals in the palace gardens.”

His eyes narrowed. “How did you — ”

“My father knows. He’s going to have the sick king brought into the gardens. You’ll think His Majesty is a monster and strike him down. Then they’ll tell the entire kingdom you murdered your father to steal his throne.”

The point remained against my throat, and I had to resist the urge to swallow. I could feel my pulse beating beneath the cold metal.

“And don’t tell Ser Aldred where you’re going,” I added. “He’s been reporting your movements to my father.”

That got a reaction. Leofric’s grip shifted, and for a moment he looked angrier than he had when I’d accused his father of being dead. Aldred was his closest aide, someone he trusted. I remembered how deeply that betrayal had hurt him in the book, but there was no chance I could explain any of it while he was holding a sword to my throat.

“Please,” I said. “If you want me to row away, fine. But come with me.”

Water slapped against the stone beyond the archway. Leofric looked at my face, then at the hand I had placed dangerously close to his blade.

“Let go before you injure yourself.”

I withdrew my fingers. He lowered the sword, and I finally managed a proper breath.

“Very well, Lady Alix. I will heed your advice for now,” he said. “But I will not endanger my vassals over claims I have yet to verify. We still have time before our intended meeting. We shall see whether your words prove true.”

I glanced past him at the boat, with its oars and its perfectly good route out of the palace. So much for my relief.