They both stumbled to a halt before the closed double doors, and then leaned on each other heavily, as they struggled to get their breath back. The armed guards on duty outside the doors did their best not to stare, whilst making it very clear through stern faces and body language that they had been ordered not to let anyone pass. Because they really didn’t want to have to say it out loud, to the King’s son and the King’s Champion, if they didn’t have to. Christof and Malcolm paid the guards no attention at all. They had other things on their minds. When they both finally felt they had their breathing under control again, they straightened up, stood back, and looked at each other.“This is not good,” said Christof. “In fact, I would have to say that this is so far from good that I can’t even see good from where I’m standing. I have been summoned to appear before my father many times before, for many reasons, but never at this late hour of the evening, never in such a peremptory way . . .
