A Dream of Ebony and White: A Retelling of Snow White (Beyond the Four Kingdoms Book 4)

by Melanie Cellier

  The bottom of the last flight sobered me, however. I looked up at the men on the stairs behind me.

  “This comes out near the kitchen. If there are any servants still awake…”

  Tarver descended to stand beside me. “How far from here to the dungeons?”

  I closed my eyes and recalled my internal map of the castle. It wasn’t too far, and we could go some of the way, at least, in a lesser-used corridor. I opened my eyes again.

  “Far enough.” I grimaced. “But I think we can do it.”

  He nodded once. “This part of the castle I know. But if you think you know a better way…”

  I didn’t bother to ask how exactly he knew the underbelly of the royal castle. Instead I shook my head.

  “No, you lead.” I suspected both his hearing and his instincts were keener than mine. “If you make a wrong turn, I’ll let you know.”

  He made a brief hand gesture to the men behind us, and they pulled in close. I kept my face impassive. Tarver was doing a good job of keeping his true feelings hidden, but he couldn’t appreciate having a princess tagging along. Not when he was clearly used to soldiers who followed his commands as opposed to young girls who assured him they’d correct him when necessary.

  Still, we stepped out into the corridor as one solid unit and moved swiftly and quietly through the servants’ level. For a few moments, I could actually pretend I was one of them.

  And then a slight noise up ahead sounded, and the three men closed in around me, whisking me backward into a shadowed alcove and shielding my body with their own. I grimaced from my hidden spot, not even attempting to peek past to see what was going on. Not really one of them, after all.

  Two servants passed, their slow footsteps and lack of conversation suggesting exhaustion. At least that worked to our advantage, since they apparently failed to examine the shadows around them. And there were shadows down here. When my father ruled, these corridors had been lit as brightly as the higher levels. But apparently Alida had replaced the lanterns with flickering tallow candles. A much cheaper—and less pleasant—alternative.

  Only once did I have to surge forward and nudge Tarver down an alternative corridor. He moved instantly to comply, not stopping to question me. Whatever he thought privately, he had been well chosen for this job.

  We finally halted just outside the entrance to the dungeons. Only a short flight of stairs and a guard room now stood between us and the cells. I tried to calm my breathing. Alexander was so close, and yet still so far.

  “Please tell me you have a plan for this, at least,” I whispered. I tried to surreptitiously wipe my palms on my skirts. It hit me suddenly and forcibly that someone was going to suffer for this. Obviously I hoped it wouldn’t be us. But neither did I want it to be any innocent servants. The guards who had sided with my stepmother—for money and power, no doubt—on the other hand…

  Tarver drew a short, solid club from his belt. “We’re to avoid any killing, if we can.” He gave me a stern look. “Don’t you come through that door until I come back out to call you. Do you understand, Ebony?”

  I flushed at his use of my code name, a subtle reminder that I wasn’t in charge here, despite my royal title. I nodded quickly. If they were going to be subduing the guards with brute force, I was aware enough to know I had no place in such a scenario.

  I flattened myself against the wall next to the door, and Tarver gestured his men forward. Pulling open the door, the three of them rushed through, pulling it closed behind them. A startled exclamation filtered through, followed by several crashes and a number of grunts and groans.

  I trembled, straining to hear and trying to follow the action on sound alone—an impossible task. Sooner than I had thought possible, the door swung back open, and a tall figure appeared in the corridor. I pushed myself off the wall before my mind registered that it wasn’t a familiar figure.

  I shrank back again instantly, hoping the escaping guard hadn’t seen me. But as his gaze skittered up and down the corridor—moving frantically without locking on to anything—I saw him inhale.

  I didn’t have time to think. I barely had time to act. But I couldn’t let him call an alarm or we would be finished.

  Chapter 17

  I launched myself off the stone behind me, jumping at his back and slinging both hands around his neck. He staggered for a moment and nearly fell before regaining his balance. Any shout had been strangled by the dead weight now clinging to his throat.

  I hung on grimly, my feet dangling just short of the floor, as his hands scrabbled at mine. My dangling weight worked to my advantage, though, and in his panic, he couldn’t shake me free.

  His fingers fell away from mine, and he thrust us both backward, crossing half the corridor in two strides. My back hit the stone wall with a bone-jarring thud. Pain raced through me, panic close behind as I struggled unsuccessfully to pull in a breath.

  Instinct rather than conscious thought kept my hands locked around the guard’s neck. But as he stepped forward, clearly preparing to slam me back against the stone again, I didn’t think I could hold on through another hit.

  And then something ripped me away from him. I reached out blindly, trying to regain my hold while still attempting to suck in a breath. But instead of calling an alarm, the guard crumpled to the floor. My own feet found the stone again, and the hold on me released.

  I instantly dropped to all fours, retching and coughing as I forced air into my lungs. I took several deep breaths before looking up. Tarver and one of his men both hovered uncertainly over me. Shakily I pushed myself back to my feet.

  “I’m all right,” I said, although neither of them had asked.

  I thought I saw a glimmer of relief in Tarver’s eyes, however. What orders and threats had my grandfather handed out about my well-being?

  “Our apologies, Your—Ebony. That one got away from us.”

  I moved gingerly toward the open door, my back throbbing. “I couldn’t let him call an alarm. But next time I’m bringing a dagger, or something. It would be easier.”

  Alarm flashed through Tarver’s eyes, and I managed a weak smile.

  “I jest, Tarver. I sincerely hope there is no next time.”

  “As do we all.”

  I glanced at him sharply. Was he hoping he would never be ordered on another mission with me? Or just that we would need to make no more jail breaks? His face gave nothing away. As we all passed into the guard room, dragging the unconscious guard with us and closing the door, he inclined his head toward me, however.

  “Our thanks for dealing with our oversight. We would all have been lost if he called an alarm.”

  I smiled, straightening my spine and then wincing at the pain in my back. It quickly faded, however, replaced with pride and excitement. I had done it. I had saved us, and now nothing stood between me and Alexander.

  The third member of our party had already begun binding and gagging the guards inside the room, and the other two moved to help him. I, on the other hand, flitted between the unconscious prisoners until I found one with a sergeant’s insignia. And, more importantly, with a ring of keys hanging from his belt.

  I had it removed within moments and barreled through the door on the far side of the room.

  “Ebony! Wait.” Tarver’s low call didn’t slow me. I trusted that they had already checked this long passage for guards, and I could wait no longer.

  I raced past the closest cells, the doors of which all stood slightly ajar. When I encountered one that was closed, I almost couldn’t stop, sliding along the dirt floor. But a second later, I had the bars gripped in both hands as I peered through. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the increased darkness down here, but I didn’t need them to recognize the voice that cried, “Snow!” in a low whisper.

  And a second later I could see him, his tall figure achingly familiar. Dark, tangled hair. Stormy, gray eyes. My gaze roamed over him, noticing a bruise on one side of his face, and a rip in his left sleeve, the edges of
the material stiff with something dry and brown. My hands tightened on the bars.

  “Your arm!”

  He crossed over to me in a single stride, his hands closing over mine.

  “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” His voice was low and quiet. “But what are you doing here? It isn’t safe!”

  He seemed alert despite the late hour—no doubt the sounds from the guardhouse had roused him. Assuming he was sleeping at all down here.

  “We’re here to rescue you,” I mirrored his whisper, suddenly remembering there might be other prisoners down here, and we were attempting to keep my presence a secret.

  “We?” He tried to peer up the passage before looking back at me. “I assume you can’t mean those children?”

  I shook my head, my face indicating my opinion of that suggestion, and he let out a breath.

  “You went to your grandfather?”

  I nodded, but I was already fumbling with the key ring, fitting one after another into the lock on his cell door. We could catch up when we were safely back in the duke’s mansion.

  It seemed to take forever, but at last one of them turned with a satisfying click. Alexander was out into the passage in two strides, his hands flitting up and down my arms as if to check I was truly there and in one piece.

  I swayed, my body betraying me with its desire to lean into his embrace. But my mind reasserted control, remembering what had happened last time I tried to throw myself at him. I stayed upright.

  I turned back toward the door to the guard room before hesitating. Swinging back around, I glanced uncertainly down the dim passage.

  “Are there other…?”

  I didn’t want to free someone who was locked up legitimately. But the dungeons had been rarely used in my father’s reign—anyone arrested by the royal guards was promptly transferred to the magistrates in the city for due process. So the chances seemed high that anyone kept here now was here for opposing Alida…

  Alexander held out his hand, and I placed the keys into them without hesitation.

  “Wait here,” he said.

  I glanced uneasily backward as the door behind us opened, but only Tarver came through.

  “Ebony?” he called quietly.

  I moved to join him, and his eyes, apparently adjusted to the lower lighting now, moved past me and down toward the cells.

  “Was he not…?” He looked worried.

  “He’s out. But we thought…other prisoners…”

  Tarver grimaced but made no actual protest. I bit my lip. Hopefully there weren’t too many of them, or it would severely complicate our escape. And Alexander had looked mobile enough, but if any of them had been down here for longer…

  I pushed away the thought. I wasn’t leaving anyone here to rot if all they had done was stand against my usurping stepmother.

  Alexander reappeared a moment later, an older man behind him. Only one, and he appeared to be moving under his own power. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  They stopped in front of us.

  “Is that all?” I looked at Alexander for confirmation, but it was his companion who answered, his voice as low as Alexander’s had been.

  “You don’t want to go letting out Barcher—” He paused, his eyes taking in my face as his brows lifted in surprise. “Your—”

  “Ebony,” I said quickly, cutting him off. “And if that’s the case, then we need to get moving.”

  Alexander quirked an amused eyebrow at me as we all passed into the guard room, and I glared at him. He seemed to have relaxed somewhat since having the chance to eye my companions—apparently he deemed them competent enough for a prison rescue.

  An underlying tension still radiated from his frame, however, as we moved back out into the corridors. He kept close to me, hovering protectively despite the fact that I was the rescuer in this scenario. I rolled my eyes but didn’t tell him to back off.

  We were still in danger, but somehow his solid presence calmed me. It felt as if I had been unable to breathe properly ever since he disappeared but had only realized it now that he was back with me, relatively unharmed.

  Thankfully exiting the castle was a great deal easier than entering it. We climbed back to the servants’ ground floor level and then let ourselves out a side door, leaving it closed but unlocked behind us. It hardly mattered if they worked out how we had fled once we were gone.

  The ground seemed to fly beneath us now that Alexander was beside me and, all too soon, we had reached the side gate again. The second guard still snored, slumped in an awkward position on the ground. The other one raised his eyebrows at the sight of our increased numbers and looked uneasily between us.

  Tarver held out a leather pouch, however, and the other man moved to take it.

  “You’ll find the extra in there.”

  The guard hesitated for a second, but his hand had already closed over the pouch, and he gave a reluctant nod.

  As we slipped through the gate and out into the forest, I bit my lip.

  “Don’t worry,” said Alexander’s voice in my ear. “He won’t talk now. He would have to admit his own role in it if he did.”

  I nodded, breathing a little easier. Trust Alexander to recognize my discomfort and move to reassure me. I had almost forgotten what it was like to have someone around who knew me so well.

  By the time we re-entered the city, I thought I could detect a faint lightening to the darkness. We all picked up the pace in unspoken agreement, reaching the mansion well before true dawn.

  The side door opened for us before Tarver could knock, Bronson ushering us inside. His eyes lingered briefly on me before taking in our two additional companions.

  With the mansion door closed behind us, I slumped, tension draining from me. Alexander was there instantly, his hand under my arm, guiding me to one of the wooden chairs littering the large kitchen. I wanted to protest, but I wasn’t actually sure how much longer my legs would continue to support me. It seemed a tidal wave of exhaustion had been waiting for the nervous energy to subside.

  As soon as I was seated, I looked at our unexpected extra rescue. He caught my questioning look and bowed deeply.

  “It is an honor, Your Highness.” He grinned. “Or is it still Ebony?”

  I smiled back, unable to help liking his rough manner.

  “Actually, the correct address would be Your Majesty.” Bronson’s gaze was trained at something on the wall above the newcomer’s head, his stiff posture expressing his disapproval.

  I hid a smile as I remembered that Bronson himself had first addressed me as Your Highness when I had stumbled unannounced into the mansion. I couldn’t blame anyone who defaulted to the title I had borne my whole life.

  “My apologies, Your Majesty.” The man bowed again, although the way his eyes danced made me think he found the steward amusing.

  “This is Carter. One of my mentors and the best huntsman we have.”

  “One of the best, me lad, although I thank you for the compliment.” The older man smiled affectionately at Alexander.

  Carter. The name rang a vague bell. No doubt I had heard Alexander mention him before.

  “I suspect he was locked up for being too close to me,” said Alexander grimly.

  Carter gave a rough chuckle. “Now that I won’t thank you for, boy. I might be getting on in years, but I have more threat in me than that, I hope.”

  Alexander smiled reluctantly. “That you do, old man. That you do.” He clapped him on the back.

  “So what were you locked up for, then?” I asked.

  “Turns out I didn’t like taking orders from that Randolph fellow,” said Carter with a shrug.

  Just the mention of the guard’s name made my heartbeat pick back up, but I tried to keep my face impassive.

  “And while I was more than happy to search for you, Your High—Majesty, I took exception to the idea that you should be escorted straight to Randolph rather than back to the castle.”

  This time I did shiver, and Alexander stepped eve
n closer to my seat, although he made no move to touch me.

  “It seems I must thank you for your loyalty, then.” I nodded at the older huntsman.

  “No need to thank me, Your Majesty. I ain’t the kind for treason, even if it wears a pretty crown.” He frowned. “And you’ll find most of your subjects feel the same way.” He shook his head with a wry grin. “They just have more sense than this old man and keep it to themselves.”

  “Too bad the guards don’t feel that way,” said Alexander, the word guard sounding more like a curse.

  “I think you’ll find many of them do,” said a new voice. We turned to find my grandfather had joined us. He looked comfortable despite seeming out of place in the kitchen.

  “I haven’t observed any great loyalty from them so far,” I said bitterly. I rubbed at my forehead. I knew I didn’t sound queenly, but the exhaustion was dragging at me. I could see Alexander watching me with concern out of the corner of his eyes, despite the fact that no one had yet seen to his arm.

  “None of this was the work of a moment,” said the duke. “Alida has no doubt been preparing for the king’s death for a long time.”

  I drew in a breath at the mention of my father’s death, and a warm hand landed on my shoulder. Despite the best of intentions, I couldn’t help leaning into it. He squeezed once and then withdrew his grip, and I tried not to let the sudden empty feeling show on my face.

  “No doubt,” I said, glad to hear my voice didn’t tremble. “And I’m sure she has put all these new taxes to good work, pouring into the purses of her newly loyal guards.”

  “Indeed.” My grandfather inclined his head toward me. “But I am happy to report that many of your guards are not so easily bought. Many of the current number are new recruits from the last two years. While many of the older ones have found themselves seeking positions elsewhere in the kingdom. She has been weeding out their number with careful precision, moving just slowly enough not to arouse any outright questioning.”

  I swiveled slightly in my chair to face him directly, my brows rising. “And you know this, how?”