Call it over confidence, but I really didn’t expect the royal guard to slam the doors to the meeting room so quickly. Halstead snorted, his gnarled hand finding its way to the hilt of his sword. Five of us and ten guardsmen in the hall, not to mention the dozens who would surely come at the first sound of scuffle gave me pause to try a more diplomatic approach.

“Were you going to tell me before or after the wedding night?”

The king turned from his papers, puffing out a chest surprisingly robust for his species, “I assumed you would figure it out eventually.”

Halstead grumbled something while his rectangular pupils took in the whole room at once.

“You might want to keep your caprine friend on a shorter leash,” the king chided before turning back to his papers. The guards inched closer.

“What if,” I proposed, “What if I could…cure her?”

The guards paused. The king sighed. I’m pretty sure Halstead quietly broke wind.

Without looking up, the king gave his response, “Say on, about this cure.”