Chapter 2 : Garden Rescue and Alliance

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The gardens of Windsor Palace were a masterpiece of geometric precision. Hedges trimmed to razor-straight lines, flower beds arranged in symmetrical patterns, gravel paths that crunched satisfyingly underfoot. It was here, among the roses and fountains, that Arthur found Richard three days after the hunt.

Or rather, he found Richard being found by Lily.

Arthur had been walking the eastern path, contemplating his next move, when he heard the raised voices. He paused behind a tall yew hedge, peering through a gap in the foliage.

Lily stood in the center of a small clearing, her red hair catching the morning sun. She had two of her ladies-in-waiting with her, and they had cornered Richard against a marble statue of some forgotten nymph.

"You were watching me during the hunt," Lily was saying, her voice carrying that false sweetness Arthur remembered so well. "A squire has no business staring at a lady of the court."

Richard stood straight-backed, his gray eyes calm. "I was attending to my duties, my lady. Watching for any danger to the hunting party."

"Danger?" Lily laughed, a sharp, unpleasant sound. "From what? Rabbits? Or were you hoping to see me fall?"

One of the ladies-in-waiting tittered. The other looked uncomfortable but said nothing.

Arthur considered his options. He could walk away—Richard was just a squire, and confronting Lily would draw attention. But in his previous life, he''d walked away from too many such moments. He''d been cautious to a fault, and it had cost him allies when he needed them most.

Not this time.

He stepped out from behind the hedge.

"Good morning," Arthur said, his voice pleasant and neutral.

All three women turned. Lily''s expression shifted from smugness to irritation to forced politeness. "Prince Arthur. We were just... discussing court etiquette with the squire."

"So I heard," Arthur said. He walked to stand beside Richard, a subtle but clear alignment. "Though I must say, Lady Lily, your interpretation of etiquette seems... creative."

Lily''s eyes narrowed. "Creative?"

"Indeed." Arthur gestured to Richard. "Squire Fitzgerald was performing his duty during the hunt. Watching for danger is not staring, it''s vigilance. And vigilance," he added, looking directly at Lily, "is something the court could use more of, don''t you think?"

The implication hung in the air: Lily''s own lack of vigilance had led to her humiliation in the brambles.

Lily''s cheeks flushed. "I was merely—"

"Merely ensuring proper conduct," Arthur finished for her, his tone still pleasant. "A noble intention, if perhaps misdirected. After all, a lady of your standing has better uses for her time than correcting squires. The Queen''s embroidery circle meets this afternoon, I believe. Or perhaps you could visit the chapel—reflection is good for the soul."

It was a masterful bit of diplomacy. Arthur hadn''t accused Lily of anything, hadn''t raised his voice, hadn''t even directly contradicted her. But he''d positioned her actions as petty, beneath her station, and suggested more appropriate—and less interesting—alternatives.

Lily opened her mouth, closed it, then forced a smile. "You''re quite right, Prince Arthur. I was... overzealous in my duties." She shot Richard a final glare. "Do be more careful where you direct your attention, squire."

With that, she swept away, her ladies trailing behind her.

When they were gone, Arthur turned to Richard. The squire was watching him with that same unreadable expression.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Richard said formally. "Though it wasn''t necessary. I could have handled it."

"I''m sure you could have," Arthur said. "But why should you have to? Bullies thrive when good people do nothing."

Richard''s eyebrows lifted slightly. "You consider Lady Lily a bully?"

"I consider her many things," Arthur said, choosing his words carefully. "But today, in this garden, she was behaving like one." He began walking along the path, and after a moment''s hesitation, Richard fell into step beside him—a half-pace behind, as protocol demanded.

They walked in silence for a time, the only sounds the crunch of gravel and the distant splash of a fountain.

"Your family were once close to the throne," Arthur said suddenly.

Richard stopped walking. "Your Highness?"

"The Fitzgeralds. Your grandfather was a duke, wasn''t he? Advisor to my grandfather. The family lost its lands and title after... what was it? A dispute over mining rights in the northern counties?"

Richard''s face had gone carefully blank. "That is the official story, yes."

"But not the true one," Arthur said softly.

He turned to face Richard fully. They were alone in this part of the garden, hidden from view by tall hedges. The morning sun cast long shadows, painting Richard''s serious face in light and dark.

"The true story," Arthur continued, "involves a loan. A substantial one, made to the crown during the last war. Your grandfather provided the funds when the treasury was empty. He was promised repayment with interest, and a seat on the privy council."

Richard''s breath caught. "How do you know that?"

Arthur didn''t answer directly. "The loan was never repaid. The promise was forgotten. And when your grandfather pressed the matter, he was accused of... let''s see, what was the charge? Treasonous correspondence with the French? Yes, that sounds right. The evidence was fabricated, of course. But by then, who would believe a disgraced noble over the word of the king''s favorite?"

For a long moment, Richard said nothing. Arthur could see the calculations going on behind those gray eyes—the surprise, the suspicion, the dawning realization that this twelve-year-old prince knew things he shouldn''t.

"Your grandfather took his own life," Arthur said, his voice gentler now. "Your father tried to restore the family honor through military service. He died at the Battle of Calais, leading a charge that saved the king''s own brother. A hero''s death, but posthumous honors don''t restore lands or titles."

Richard''s jaw tightened. "Why are you telling me this, Your Highness?"

"Because I believe in justice," Arthur said. "And because I need people around me who understand that the world is not fair, that power can be abused, and that sometimes... sometimes you have to fight back."

He met Richard''s gaze. "I''m choosing my personal guard. Most princes pick from the sons of powerful nobles—political alliances, you understand. I''m picking you."

The surprise on Richard''s face was genuine this time. "Me? I''m just a squire. My family has no influence, no wealth—"

"Exactly," Arthur said. "You have no other loyalties. No family debts to repay. No political favors owed. Just your own honor and skill." He paused. "And you have reason to dislike certain people at court. People whose families benefited from your family''s downfall."

Understanding dawned in Richard''s eyes. "Lady Lily''s family. They got one of our northern estates."

"Among other things," Arthur confirmed. He didn''t add that in his previous life, he''d learned this information too late—after Richard had already been poisoned by Lily''s faction. After he''d lost the one person who might have stood by him to the end.

"I accept," Richard said, the words firm and clear.

"Just like that? No questions? No demands?"

Richard shook his head. "You could have walked away in the garden. You didn''t. You could have chosen any guard. You chose me. And you know things..." He trailed off, then finished, "You know things that suggest you see more than people think."

"Good," Arthur said. He resumed walking, and Richard followed. "Your duties begin immediately. You''ll move to the chambers adjacent to mine. You''ll attend me at all court functions. You''ll train with the master-at-arms every morning—I want you to be the best swordsman in the palace."

"And in return?" Richard asked.

"In return," Arthur said, "I''ll help you restore your family''s honor. Not just the name, but the truth. And when the time comes, you''ll have your justice."

They had reached the end of the garden path, where it opened onto the main courtyard. Servants bustled about, carrying linens and firewood and trays of food. The ordinary business of the palace, unaware of the alliance just formed in the shadows.

"One question, Your Highness," Richard said as they paused at the courtyard''s edge.

"Yes?"

"How did you know? About my family, about the loan, about... everything?"

Arthur looked at the young man who would, in another life, become his most loyal guard and his deepest regret. The man whose loyalty he had taken for granted until it was too late.

"I pay attention," Arthur said simply. "I notice things others overlook. And I remember."

It wasn''t the whole truth, but it was true enough.

As they entered the courtyard, Arthur spotted Lily watching from an upper window. Her expression was unreadable at this distance, but he could imagine it well enough—anger, confusion, and that calculating look she got when planning her next move.

Let her plan, Arthur thought. I have Richard now. And I have knowledge she can''t possibly imagine.

The game was advancing. Pieces were moving into position.

And Arthur Windsor was no longer playing defensively.

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