The Prince's Wing

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The Prince's Wing Page 4

by Amber R. Duell


  “What are you doing?” I asked, more than a little concerned. If she returned with bruised arms, her lady’s maids would search for a reason.

  “Testing it,” she said simply.

  “Okay.” I took her arm again and made quick work of removing the leather. “It’s perfectly crafted, but thank you for your concern.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You’re no fun.”

  “I never claimed to be fun.” I tightened the straps around my forearm until the bracer was firmly back in place. “I’m not interested in explaining how you hurt yourself to your maids.”

  Karina rolled her eyes. “If I was worried about them, I wouldn’t keep sneaking out.”

  I glared at her from beneath my lashes. It wasn’t her I was concerned with. If anyone thought I abused a noblewoman, I would be whipped. “How do you keep evading your maids long enough to come here?”

  “Why? So you can cut off my escape route?” She waved a finger back and forth. “No. If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.”

  “Oh?” I laughed. “You could try.”

  Flicking a dismissive hand, she struggled to contain a smile. “I’ll just keep my methods to myself and save us both the trouble.”

  “I won’t tattle to your maids.”

  She gave me a stern side-eye. “Right. Because I’m not telling you anything.”

  “Fine,” I conceded. She didn’t need to tell me—I could find out on my own if I really wanted to. All I would need was her family name to learn where she was staying. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask. It would make her too real and, deep down, I enjoyed the mystery.

  A proud smile spread across Karina’s face before melting away. She rubbed at her arm where my bracer had been. “Hopefully you’ll be as understanding the next time we meet.”

  My eyes narrowed, all sense of humor gone. “What do you mean by that?”

  She shrugged. “You said as long as I wasn’t planning to act against the prince, you didn’t care.”

  “I don’t believe those were my exact words, but, by default, I have to take an interest if you plan on hurting anyone.” Especially now that she’d said that. I could be considered an accomplice. Even if she did the country a favor and murdered the king, as that would put Bastian in a vulnerable position.

  “My only plan is to survive long enough to go home,” she said, closing her eyes and tilting her chin toward the sun.

  The breeze blew tendrils of hair across her face and I reached out, tucking them behind her ear, before I could stop myself. Her cheek was cold beneath my fingers, the tips of her ears even cooler. The urge to cup her face between my hands, to warm her, drove me closer on the bench. Somewhere, deep down, I knew I should question what she’d said. What her words hinted at. But there was a growing mountain of desire burying reason.

  One kiss.

  It wouldn’t be so bad, would it? While I wasn’t allowed a true relationship, physical relations were another thing. A secret kiss wouldn’t damage her reputation, even if someone did find out. All the ladies at court had small dalliances here and there. As long as a kiss was all it was, it wouldn’t matter. My gaze fell to her lips. They parted as her breathing hitched, drawing me nearer. When my knee bumped the side of her thigh, I swallowed hard.

  “Are you afraid now?” I asked quietly. If she was, I would leave. Leave and find somewhere new to spend my mornings to protect us both. Hell. Even if she wasn’t afraid, I would need to leave this place behind.

  “No,” she whispered.

  The way her lips formed a soft o around the word had my hand shaking where it still rested near her ear. Fuck me. This wasn’t good. My mind was foggy, common sense lost. “You can tell me no,” I said in a low voice. “If you don’t want me to kiss you, that’s all you have to say.”

  She remained silent, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

  “I can’t offer you anything.” Maybe I was hoping she would push me away. Save me from myself. “Wings can never get married or keep a mistress. If I kiss you, that’s all it can be, which is selfish and wrong. But I…” I swallowed hard. Why isn’t she pushing me away? “I can’t get you out of my head.”

  Her tongue slipped from between her lips, wetting them. “What are you waiting for?”

  A pained groan built in my chest as I leaned in, inhaling her wildflower scent. Then my lips brushed hers. Despite the fact that they barely touched, I felt the sensation like a punch to the chest. Her hand covered mine where it rested against her cheek.

  I winced, hating myself as I deepened the kiss, but was unable to stop. My tongue ran across the seam of her lips. That was all I allowed though. As hard as it was, I broke away before her tongue could answer mine.

  “You taste like sunshine,” I rasped. Then I stood, the motions sluggish. “Forgive me, my lady. I was out of line.”

  “No. It’s—”

  “Don’t come again.” The warning was forced from my mouth. I knew pushing her away was the right thing to do, even if it felt wrong. My whole life felt wrong, yet I continued to live it. This could be no different. “I won’t be here.”

  She blinked up at me, eyes wide and glistening. Was it confusion or something more that I saw in her expression?

  “I’m sorry,” I said, and turned on my heel.

  Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

  One kiss, I had told myself. But one kiss wouldn’t be enough. A single press of my lips to hers and my soul was doomed. If it hadn’t been already. All I could do now was avoid her. Forget her. It wouldn’t be difficult as I spent most of my time with Bastian, and he spent most of his time working.

  Except tonight.

  That would be spent sneaking out to see Faramond and receiving my job. What had seemed like an unnecessary risk before, now seemed like the perfect distraction.

  ✽✽✽

  Faramond was waiting when I slipped through the window of his office. Instead of sitting behind his desk, he stood in front of a small fireplace, nursing a glass of whiskey. “You took your time,” he said in greeting.

  “I got here as soon as I could,” I told him through clenched teeth.

  Faramond narrowed his eyes and gave a low hm. “Your prince is spending a lot of time in the archives.”

  Something I should have reported—along with why. “He’s searching for an alternative to raising taxes.” It would come out sooner or later so lying wasn’t an option. “You should be pleased.”

  “Don’t pretend to know what pleases me, Saer. The Governor of the People doesn’t want to raise the taxes either, does she?” Before I could confirm or deny, Faramond set his glass on the mantel with a loud clink. “Coming to see me again so soon must’ve been difficult, so I’ll get to the point.”

  The job. I bristled. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Assassinate Governor Pevran.” He held up a hand to ward off any protests. “Her job was to make sure the people were pushed to the brink so they would fully embrace the Asters—not to keep taxes low.”

  My lips parted, words stuck on my tongue. “Am I to be your assassin now?”

  “You—” He paused and glowered at me. “—Are to be whatever I say you are.”

  I clenched my jaw. No. He’d already decided enough for me and now this? Killing Governor Pevran for wanting to help the citizens of Eradrist wasn’t what the rebels were supposed to be about. “I’m the Prince’s Wing.”

  Faramond slammed a fist on the edge of his desk. “You’re an Aster placed beside the pretender prince for the sake of the cause.”

  The cause… What were they fighting for, truly? To topple the king and then what? There was none of the old royal bloodline to replace him with. Another war would break out among the nobles over who had the strongest claim to the throne. After using the people of Eradrist, after grinding them into the dirt, Faramond would do what for the country? If he were willing to drown the people in debt now, holding any real power would only make things worse.

  “Wipe that look off your face,” he grow
led. I stood taller and lifted my chin. “Growing a backbone all of a sudden? I’ll ask another to kill the governor then. And, when he’s finished, I’ll have him expose you.”

  Hot fear flashed through me. If the crown discovered I was working with the rebels, I would be tortured to the brink of death—before I stood trial. On the chance I survived long enough to be judged, they would undoubtedly find me guilty. Sentence me to death. None of that scared me as much as the look of betrayal Bastian would wear. The fear cooled just as quickly as it came. “And then I will expose you.”

  Faramond threw his head back and laughed. “You wouldn’t live long enough to utter my name, let alone spin tales of my deeds.”

  No. The bastard would probably have me killed first, then present the evidence of my betrayal. Dead or alive, I didn’t want Bastian to know. Didn’t want to hurt him. If I had to kill the governor to continue protecting the prince, I would do it. “How do you want her killed?” I asked.

  “Quietly.” Faramond shrugged. “You have a week.”

  A week to plan a murder. To curse the people to higher taxes and emptier bellies. I clenched my hands at my sides and nodded. If I was dead, Bastian would have no one.

  And Bastian was the only hope Eradrist had for a better future.

  Chapter Six

  Poison. Hanging. Suffocation. Drowning. A knife to the throat. Faramond had given me license to choose how Governor Pevran would die as long as it happened in his time frame. I knew how to kill in defense, but this was something else. It wasn’t a natural reaction to preserve my own life or Bastian’s. It was calculated. Cruel.

  But if I didn’t do it, someone else would. Then I would follow her to the grave. At least this way, I could ensure she had a kind death—as kind as a cold-blooded murder could be. I would inspect her residence, learn her routine, and sneak in while she slept. That would give me time to mull over the specifics. If there was a way to kill her quietly, painlessly, and appear natural, that would be for the best. No inquiries. No suspicion. Though, even if there were those who thought the death suspicious, it wouldn’t lead back to the Asters after the governor fought to keep the taxes low, which aligned with the rebel’s purpose.

  What a load of horse shit.

  “You look upset.” Karina’s voice carried across the forgotten garden.

  My head snapped up, eyes pinning her in place. She was already halfway to me and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to flee or close the distance between us. Instead of an elaborate, beaded gown, she wore the white and blue dress of a lady’s maid with her hair braided over one shoulder. She looked more at ease with herself than I’d ever seen her. And that was far too attractive. “What the fuck?” I whispered to myself.

  Her eyes flashed with uncertainty. “I know, you said not to come back.”

  “I’m not surprised you didn’t listen.” She hadn’t listened the last time I told her the same thing, and it was my mistake coming here again. It hadn’t been intentional but, when I realized where my feet had taken me, I stayed. “I am surprised about the clothing.”

  She held out the paneled skirt and gave a half-twirl. “I’ve been assigned a teacher to help prepare me for life at court. This was the only way to get around her.”

  “You’re staying, then? At the palace?” Her family likely had their eyes on a potential husband for her if they were taking on the expense of a court tutor. A suitor of high rank that needed to be impressed.

  “Don’t worry about me,” she said, brushing the question away with a flick of her hand. “What’s bothering you?”

  I inhaled slowly, rubbing my palms on my thighs as I sat up straighter. Just plotting a murder. “Nothing for a lady to be concerned with.”

  Karina scowled and came to perch on the bench. “I’ll have you know that I’ve helped solve a great many problems.”

  But none quite so bloody. “I’m sure you have.”

  “Don’t patronize me,” she said quietly.

  “I’m not.” I sighed. “I believe you, but there are things even I don’t wish to be burdened with. There’s no reason to share the misery.”

  She stretched her legs and leaned back, putting her weight on her palms. It called my attention to her chest, the way the fabric hugged each swell. And, lower, how her skirt gave the slightest hint of a V between her legs. I swallowed hard and forced myself to look away. Sitting that way was definitely not something her teacher would allow.

  “It must be lonely,” she said after a moment.

  “What?” My head whipped toward her, but she was looking up at the sky. The same pattern of light that I enjoyed watching through the leaves now danced on her face.

  “Not having someone to talk to.” Her eyes shifted to watch me without turning her head. “It must be lonely.”

  I was a Wing and an Aster—I didn’t have the luxury of a confidant. Not one I could speak my full truth too and, yes, it was fucking lonely. But I didn’t want someone else to see it. To pity me. I ground my teeth together. “I’m fine.”

  “Because you have the prince?” It sounded like a genuine question, but after spending my entire life in the palace, I knew better than to believe sincerity from anyone.

  “You’re a curious one today,” I said in a flat voice.

  Her gaze slid back to the foliage. “If I don’t ask questions, you won’t talk to me, and I need the distraction.”

  “From what? Learning which fork to use at dinner?” I stood, the frustration of her presence threatening my ever-constant control. “Go back to your tutor, Lady Karina. Make sure you pay special attention to the lessons about when it’s appropriate to be alone with a man and when to watch your mouth.”

  Ignoring her sharp intake of breath, I strode from the garden. Fuck her. Fuck her keen eye and her willful innocence and how gods damn adorable she looked in that uniform. A low growl escaped my chest. This isn’t her fault. It was mine. For letting myself be infatuated with someone I’d spent practically no time with. Even if we had spent more time together, feelings weren’t allowed. Caring wasn’t allowed. Nothing was fucking allowed.

  I wasn’t a man or a guard or a rebel—I was a prisoner.

  ✽✽✽

  Governor Pevran lived in a large building near the entrance to the Main Palace. It housed all six governors and their families, each with their own sprawling set of rooms. That would make it harder to infiltrate without being seen. Spouses or children could roam the communal halls at any time of day or night. Nannies. Multiple household servants. Why hadn’t Faramond recruited one of them? Surely there was a mistreated maid or underpaid manservant willing to take on the task. Without a doubt, some of them were already working there under Aster orders.

  If only I knew which.

  Then I could pay them to slip a fast-acting poison into the governor’s nightcap. Or, at the very least, get them to ensure my path was clear of locked doors and wandering residents.

  I didn’t hide my movements as I wandered around the outskirts of the sprawling red sandstone building. Floral bushes grew along the perimeter, lanterns hung at even intervals around the exterior, and a small fountain bubbled in the center of a private yard. Private, meaning exclusive to the residents, but anyone walking by could see the three women having morning tea in the gazebo and the young children running after each other.

  Hopefully none of the youth lived with Pevran.

  She wasn’t married, but that meant little. Virtue was only important to nobility and the Governor of the People was always chosen from the people. There could be a brood of fatherless children living with her and no one would bat an eye.

  Don’t have children. Please.

  Faramond didn’t have to tell me what would happen to them, if they existed, without their mother. They would suffer the same fate as me—molded by Aster hands to do their bidding. Someone from the cause would take them in, fill their head with lies about the king personally making them orphans, and, when they were ready, set them loose as spies.

  The guard
s at the entrance to the building shifted as I strolled by. Checking perimeters, I would’ve told them if they asked. Occasionally, I did that exact thing when I was too restless to go to the garden, or if there was a recent attempt to breach the palace walls. No one would question it.

  But, unlike the other times, I was paying special attention to the windows and doors. The location of guards. The palcement of trees to offer cover, and the trellis I could use to get onto the roof, if needed.

  “My Lord Wing!” A young boy wearing deep red robes, marking him as a servant at the Main Palace, ran toward me, huffing and puffing. He stood a few feet away and kept his eyes downcast as he spoke. “Prince Bastian is ready to leave the palace.”

  A quick glance at the sun told me it hadn’t been more than two hours since he joined the king. “Already?”

  “Yes, my lord,” he said without looking up from the ground.

  “Did something happen?”

  “No, my lord.”

  “Informative,” I mumbled when he didn’t elaborate and brushed past the servant. Based on past instances, the meeting most likely ended early with plans to reconvene later, but that didn’t calm my sudden spark of alertness. The edge of nerves. I forced myself to walk at a brisk pace instead of running, which would undoubtedly create a panic in anyone who saw me, and rounded the corner to the Main Palace entrance.

  As I approached, one of the guards swung the scrolling iron gate open. Bastian stormed out without preamble, his jaw clenched, auburn braids loose around his circlet, and the vein on his forehead throbbing. I fell in step beside him and matched his long, hurried strides.

  “The servant said nothing happened,” I hedged as he led the way toward his quarters.

  Bastian released a hoarse laugh. “You won’t fucking believe it.”

  Don’t tell me. Not if it was something the Asters would want to know. If I didn’t know, I wouldn’t be pressured to reveal it or punished when someone else informed Faramond.

  “We aren’t to be disturbed,” Bastian ordered the men standing outside his residence.

 

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