Could there have been some instruction he had missed? More likely these lords and ladies, with their wealth and contacts, knew something. He was tempted to ask someone if they knew what was happening, but was fairly certain it would earn him another cuff from the guard. Michael saw fear in some faces but respect in others. He took a deep breath, opened the door and disappeared inside. Michael couldn’t hear what was said, but the Lord pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his gleaming forehead. “Lord Frederick Arnold,” the guard said, breaking the nervous silence and interrupting his thoughts.Ī heavyset man rose and walked to the guard, who was standing next to a door halfway down the corridor. Michael had been escorted to the main entrance and then blindfolded before entering. They would only say he wasn’t in trouble and he would be returned unharmed before the end of the day. Did they know something he didn’t? The guards had told him nothing when they had appeared at his father’s bakery and whisked him to the castle. They inched away from him, trying to avoid flour ruining their expensive garments. He wasn’t surprised when neither returned the compliment. He sat down between two well-to-do gentlemen, giving them both a nod and a smile. He was positive she didn’t know he existed. The Queen was responsible for this strange congregation? He had only seen the Queen once and that had been from a distance. Michael bit back a reply, not because he was scared but because he was now genuinely curious. Unfortunately, there has been no mistake. “This meeting has been organised by Her Majesty, the Queen. I have no association with whoever organised this meeting.”
There must be a lord or nobleman with the same surname. Until now, protesting had accomplished nothing except a cuff on the head, but looking at the present company, he felt compelled to give it one more try. Michael turned to the huge guard standing behind him and raised his eyebrows. He was half their age and had scruffy blond hair tinted white from flour, having been dragged from his father’s bakery less than an hour ago.
To be fair, Michael didn’t exactly blend in. Most ignored him and those who glanced his way did so with a disdainful air, as if his very presence were an insult. Michael James Greenwood found himself in a lavish hallway with a group of nobles sitting opposite each other. The guard removed the blindfold and Michael squinted as his eyes adjusted to the torchlight. Chapter Five - No Electronics Beyond this PointĬhapter Thirteen - Spells and Memory LaneĬhapter Fourteen - Commander of the InstituteĬhapter Seventeen - Ten Great Dwarf RecipesĬhapter Twenty-One - Sognar’s Spell ServicesĬhapter Twenty-Eight - The Floating Prison
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