by Renna Peak
It isn’t until that moment that I realize Lady Clarissa is standing behind him. “Well, when you match an unwanted Montovian prince with a Rosvalian whore, nothing good will come of it.”
William takes a step toward the two. “I’ll ask you kindly to stop insulting my wife.”
Clarissa cackles. “You’ll ask me? Well, that would be something new for you, wouldn’t it, William? I thought you were of the mind that you didn’t have to ask women for what they wanted. I was there the night you announced you were taking your wife. I don’t recall you asking for much of anything.”
My gut twists at the memory of the night of the Festival Ball, but I try to shove the feeling away. If William wants me to choose to be happy, perhaps I should. At least around my brother and his new girlfriend. “We’re very happy.” I give her the phoniest, sweetest smile I can manage. “Obviously. We can’t seem to keep our hands off each other as my dear brother is so right to point out.” I turn my phony smile to my brother. “If you’ll excuse us, Brother, we’re trying very hard to start on the four male heirs you seem to be so concerned about. Of course…” I bat my eyelashes at him, then turn them to Clarissa. “Of course, when we do have our first male heir, I’ll probably need to hire some additional security, won’t I? I wouldn’t want anything happening to my child because anyone was…concerned about their place in line for the throne of Rosvalia.” I turn my gaze between the two of them. “Is that going to be a concern again—?”
William tugs on my arm. “Let’s go. We can continue with our new…decisions in our suite.”
“What the fuck are you two on about? Reginald turns his gaze back and forth between the two of us as though we are insane. “Sister, what are you accusing me of—?”
“We’re leaving.” William gives him a fake grin. “My wife is exhausted. Probably because of her hormones. It’s possible she’s already carrying that male heir of ours, you know.”
Lady Clarissa’s smile turns to a wide-eyed look of rage in a split second.
“I suppose we’ll see in a few months, won’t we, Sister?” Reginald gives me a look that tells me he knows about my arrangement with my father. “Probably in what…three months or so? Maybe…ninety-six days or thereabouts?”
I glare at my brother as William pulls again on my arm, and we make our way back to the safety of the corridor that leads to our suite.
He drops my arm as soon as we’re safely away from the two. His arms loop around my waist and he pushes me hard against the wall.
I slide my arms up his back and tilt my head, waiting for his lips to come down on mine, but this time, they don’t.
Instead, he tips his forehead to mine as he pulls my body tightly against his—he’s so close to me I can feel how much he wants me.
But instead of kissing me, or even fondling my body, he looks into my eyes and speaks. “Tell me what happens in ninety-six days, Princess.” His hands slide to my ass and he pulls me right up against him. “Tell me now.”
William
I thought I could let it go for now. I thought I could take it slow, win her trust, and let her tell me in her own time. In the short time I’ve known Justine, I’ve learned she’s as stubborn a woman as I’ve ever met—and that she’ll do anything to keep up the walls she’s built around herself. Women like that don’t respond well to people trying to force them to do anything.
But I’ve had enough of waiting. I’m no longer willing to stay in the dark about something that obviously concerns me.
“What happens in ninety-six days?” I demand again when she doesn’t answer right away. “Everyone in this blasted palace seems to know except me.”
In the dim light coming in through a nearby window, I see something glint in her eyes. Her face is still caked with soot, though it’s smudged in places where my hands or lips were.
“Tell me, Justine.”
Her lips fall open. “I can’t.”
“Tell me.”
“It’s not that simple. You wouldn’t understand—”
“Try me.”
She clamps her mouth shut. Her eyes have taken on a fierce glow—her stubbornness is coming out.
“We might be married, but that doesn’t mean I have to tell you everything,” she says. “You lost that privilege when you decided we’d marry without telling me.”
“I thought we were past that—”
“We’ll never be past that. No matter what happens, I’ll never forget that.” She slips under my arm and tries to get away.
I reach after her. “Justine—”
“Your Highness! Princess!” A woman has come around the corner, and at the sight of us, she comes rushing forward. “Samuel told us you two were out in the storm. You’re to report to the physicians at once.”
“We’re fine,” I say. “Actually, we were just heading back to our suite to wash up.”
“Actually, I think we should go to see the physician,” Justine says. “Just in case.”
I know she’s just trying to avoid continuing our conversation, but honestly, her voice is still worryingly scratchy—and I have to admit, now that I’ve stopped to think, my throat is sore. We really should have the physician look at us.
“This way,” the woman says, beckoning me. Justine has already started down the corridor.
I catch up to her in a few strides. Lowering my voice so that the attendant doesn’t hear me, I say, “This isn’t over, Princess. You will tell me what you’re hiding from me.”
“I’ll tell you exactly what I want to tell you, and not a word more.”
The attendant catches up to us, so I let the conversation drop. But I’m not about to let her play me for a fool. I’m doing everything in my power to build some bridges between us, and she keeps tearing them down again.
After we see the physician, I don’t intend to let her evade my questions again.
But when we get to the medical quarters, everything is chaos. Justine is quickly ushered in one direction, and I in the other.
“What are you doing?” I demand. “My wife—”
“Needs immediate medical treatment,” says the woman leading me. “As do you.” Before I even realize what’s happening, I’m in a small, private room, hooked up to oxygen.
“I heard you and Princess Justine rushed into that burning stable,” the woman says. “Forgive me for saying so, Your Highness, but that was very foolish.”
My eyes drop to the name embroidered in gold thread on her coat. Dr. Vanrich.
“His Majesty will have my head if anything happens to either of you,” she says. “So please do me a favor and do as I say. It’ll make both of our lives a lot easier. I promise I’ll get you out of here as soon as I can.”
As soon as she can turns out to mean nearly two hours—two hours of tests and scans and blood work. These rooms, at least, seem to have some source of backup power. Despite my protests that I’m fine, Dr. Vanrich is thorough, and every time I try to tell her I can go, she gives me the same look one of my tutors used to give me when I told her I didn’t need to do one of her assignments. I learn very quickly to just lie back and let her do her thing.
I wonder if they’re putting Justine through the same thing, I think, staring up at the ceiling. Honestly, she probably has it much worse. Even though her parents seem to have little respect for her, it would reflect poorly on them and the palace staff if anything happened to her. She’ll probably be here all day getting poked and prodded.
You’ve escaped my questions for a few more hours, Princess, I think. But you can’t escape them forever.
By the time they conclude that I’m fine and let me go free, it’s early afternoon. My stomach rumbles with hunger, but before I go in search of something to eat, I go in search of my wife.
I stop one of the medical attendants. “Princess Justine. Where is she?”
“We released her an hour ago,” the man says. “She’s just fine.”
That’s good to hear, at least. When I first darted into that stable and s
aw her fighting desperately with that stall door… It makes me ill just to think of it. When I went in to help, I never expected to see her there, only a few paces away from roaring flames. I’ve no doubt she would have given her life for that horse, and the very thought makes my heart stop.
Look at you, getting all sentimental. I rub the back of my neck as I hurry back toward the suite I share with her. Hopefully she hasn’t gone far.
But when I get there, she’s nowhere to be found. The suite is empty, though someone has obviously been in here—the glass from the broken window has been swept up, and there’s a clear sheet of plastic fastened over the open window frame. Outside, the rain still falls, but I don’t hear any hail.
But where is Justine?
My stomach grumbles again, but there are more important things than food right now. I leave the suite, my mind running through the places where she could be. Maybe she went to speak with her parents. Or maybe she’s organizing recovery and repair efforts. My stomach lets out another groan. Or maybe she went in search of lunch.
Knowing Justine, it’s probably one of the first two options.
As I march back through the palace, I find myself looking out the windows. Most of the broken panes have already been covered up, but as I look outside, I realize there’s still a lot of work to do. The fire at the stable appears to be out, but black wisps of smoke still rise from the charred roof. Whole sections of the grounds are nearly underwater, and animals wander freely through the gardens. A few men and women move among them, trying to grab whatever animals they can.
My clothes are stiff with soot. I still have black streaks on my skin, but that doesn’t seem to matter right now. Justine is probably out there somewhere, and even if she isn’t, I’m sure they’d be grateful for an extra pair of hands.
It takes me a few minutes to find a way outside. The rain has lessened slightly, but it’s still heavy enough to soak my clothes within minutes. I approach a horse huddling under a tree near the palace wall, making soothing sounds to her as I get closer. My boots squish in the damp grass, sinking here and there in pockets of mud. Leaves and branches are scattered all around, as are bits of garbage. The landscaping crews have quite a job ahead of them.
I keep speaking softly to the horse, murmuring gentle words until I’m right up next to her. Slowly, I reach out and touch her neck. She whinnies—she’s obviously still spooked—but she doesn’t pull away from me. I run my fingers through her mane.
“That’s all right, girl,” I say. “The worst is over.”
I take her lead and guide her away from the wall. I’m not sure where they’re storing the animals for the time being, but I’m sure someone does.
As I round the corner of the palace, though, I stop dead in my tracks. A group of the Royal Guard—some half dozen of them—hurry around the building in formation. There’s something frantic about their steps, as if they’re responding to an urgent order.
And why wouldn’t they be? I think as I continue walking the horse through the rain. That was quite the storm. I’m sure they have a lot to do right now.
Only a few minutes later, though, another group of guards rushes by.
“Hey,” I call out to them. Maybe they can tell me what’s going on.
Only one even glances my way. The rest outright ignore me. They rush around the side of the palace without a word of acknowledgment to me.
Okay, something is definitely going on. Something weird.
Rain slithers down the back of my shirt. I march dutifully on, leading the horse until I find a man I recognize as one of the handlers from the stables.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” he says when he sees me. “Thank you so much.” Despite his kind words, he looks almost frantic, and he keeps looking over his shoulder, as if he has a thousand things on his mind.
“Where are we keeping the horses?” I ask him.
“There’s a shed along the eastern wall. Bright red door. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks. I’ll take her there and then look for others.”
I lead my horse across the grounds, avoiding the swampy areas as I take her around the eastern wing of the palace. Another group of guards marches by, and like the others, they ignore me, even when I call out. They disappear through a door on the eastern wing.
What exactly happens in that part of the palace? I think, watching as they slam the door shut behind them. What do they keep in the eastern wing? And why do they need so many guards there right now? Surely these troops would be of more use in the city, or at the very least helping gather all these loose animals.
There are too many secrets in this place. And I intend to uncover all of them, starting with what happens in ninety-six days.
Right now, though, I think rubbing the neck of the scared horse next to me, I have a job to do.
Justine
As I expected, Bathsheba has found shelter near the riding track. Another of our few horses has joined her there and I lead them both back to the temporary stable that’s been set up near the east side of the palace. The rain is still pelting overhead, but at least the hail has stopped for now.
The horses seem almost as eager as I am to get out of the rain. I find a spot for each of them in the large shed—we’ve used this shed once before after a storm like this one caused our previous barn’s roof to cave in.
I stroke Bathsheba’s nose for a few minutes—I haven’t been spending as much time with her as I used to. The grooms still ride her daily, but I’ve been so busy with my life for the past several months that I haven’t been able to ride her myself in far too long.
That changes after this storm is cleaned up. At least until I move back to America… Perhaps I can arrange to have her sent with me—I’m still not certain where I’m going to go, only that it won’t be here.
And it will be far, far away from William.
I’m not sure what’s going on with me, only that the odd attraction I’m feeling toward him cannot be healthy. Obviously. I’m somehow strangely aroused by our constant fighting, though it’s probably that the arguments now end in kissing that is so stimulating.
Damn, he’s a good kisser. I suppose I could acknowledge that. He is very good at kissing, but that is as far as I’m willing to let things go between us. Not that he wants more—after all, he did leave our bed last night to sleep in the rain. I gave him the opportunity—again—and he chose not to take it. I suppose he’s made it perfectly clear that I disgust him at least as much as he disgusts me.
Whatever. It isn’t as though there isn’t more than enough to do outside our suite now. William can make himself busy entertaining the staff while they wait out the storm. He seems to enjoy that—being the center of attention.
I tighten the ties on the other horses in the makeshift stable and ensure each of them has access to the hay and water one of the grooms has carried over from the storage shed. At least we got them all out alive.
Our country may not have been so lucky. It will be days before we hear of the majority of damage, particularly since the electricity went out so quickly this time. Many of the farmers in the outlying areas will be so busy tending to their farms that they won’t have time to report their damages.
I’ll have to go into the city tomorrow to see if I can help there. Our infrastructure is old—and with the storms, we haven’t had the funds to be able to replace much of it. Many of the bridges in the city are years older than our compliance laws state they should be, but we haven’t been able to raise taxes to be able to pay for such things.
I hear a sound behind me, followed by the braying of another horse, and I turn to see William, tying up one of the older horses near where the others stand.
He glances over at me. “How many more are there?”
I frown. “I don’t know.”
He nods before he hitches a thumb over his shoulder. “What’s going on out there?”
“I have no idea what you mean.” I walk over and retie the knot William has made to keep the hors
e in place. “It’s still raining—”
“I mean with the guards.”
“Oh.” I glance over at the door, but I don’t see anything. “I’m sure they’re just out trying to help to start cleaning up the mess—”
“There are hundreds of them, Princess. I don’t care how big the storm is, no one needs hundreds of Royal Guardsmen—”“
“Oh, really? I suppose you’ve been out to survey the damage yourself then? You rode Jessup down to the city in the hour since I’ve seen you?” I give the horse in front of me—the one William brought in—a pat. “You took it upon yourself to go and inspect the damages done from the storm by yourself?”
“Of course not, Princess.” He pats the horse as well, chuckling. “His name is Jessup?”
I ignore the comment. “Why are you so untrusting? You’ve seen the damage done here—and the palace is protected by the hill behind us.” I hitch my own thumb over my shoulder. “The rest of the city—the rest of the country—is not so lucky. Did we not already have this conversation?”
“It isn’t safe for anyone to be traveling anywhere, Princess.” He frowns at me. “Including the Royal Guard. Which is why I find it suspect that they’re all headed toward the east wing of the palace.” He lifts a brow. “What is it you have hidden in there?”
I glare at him for a long moment. “Oh.” I nod, narrowing my gaze. “That’s where we keep the dragons. They’re probably making sure they haven’t gotten out again.”
His brows draw together, but I don’t wait for him to make a snide comment before continuing.
“They probably did get out. It’s probably how the barn caught fire. You’d better watch out, Your Highness. They don’t take kindly to strangers.”
“Very funny.” He pauses for a moment. “You don’t really have dragons, do you—?”
“Of course we don’t have dragons.” I glare at him. “Unless we do. That would make perfect sense, wouldn’t it? It would at least explain whatever it is we have hidden in the east wing that you’re so ridiculously curious about.”