Padric allowed the husk to help him to his feet and found Svala already huddled under the furs. He looked down at her, nodded and smiled gratefully, then lay down atop the covers, not bothering to pull his boots off. His eyelids settled, blocking out the glow from the fireplace, and he welcomed the release of sleep.

When he awoke, the chamber was dark, the fire out and the air grown cold. He had not slept long, for the full veil of night still covered the sky beyond the arch to the balcony. He rolled off the palette with the intention of stoking the fire, but Slouch Hat must have guessed his purpose for the soft light of flame slowly spread through the room. Padric lay back groggily and mumbled a word of thanks, already drifting back to sleep.

A scream split the chamber and Padric bolted upright just in time to see a figure tumble off the balcony. Padric rushed towards the arch as the scream fell away, and skidded to a halt at the sight of something kneeling out on the ledge. Long, dark hair fell across its back and the head turned towards him. It was the face of a girl, her eyes wide, flesh milk white in the moon. She was so young, barely out of childhood, and she gripped something in her hands.

“My king,” she whispered and held out the object. It was a crown, a simple ring of forged iron.

Something grabbed Padric’s shoulder, and he whirled around in alarm to find Slouch Hat taking a quick step backwards.

“Padric!” the husk said. “Are you well?”

“You!” Padric advanced on him. “Why were you trying to push me?”

“What…Padric! I--”

“Trying to throw me off the tower, you murdering husk!”

“No!” Slouch Hat protested his hands raised. “I saw you make for the balcony in the dark. I was worried.”

Padric looked back to the balcony and found it empty. “There was…I swore.”

He looked over at the concerned face of the husk and shook his head. “I am sorry. Must have been dreaming. Pay me no mind.”

Slouch Hat nodded and walked out to the balcony as Padric settled back onto the palette. Svala rolled over as he stretched out, and he felt a hand caress his manhood. He snatched at her wrist, pulling the hand away and opened his eyes, recoiling at the face of the dark haired girl from the balcony pressed close to him.

“What do you desire, my lord?” she asked in a hush.

Padric pushed her away, holding fast to her wrist and pinning her to the mattress.

“Who are you?” he demanded, and again he was grabbed from behind, pulled roughly off the girl. He stumbled and fell backwards, but the rich carpet cushioned him.

“What are you doing?” he heard Slouch Hat demand.