Kitt tried to smile at the king, but her lips felt weak. She wasn't thrilled with playing the part of the princess, and she was even less thrilled about her betrothal. From what she had seen of him so far, Prince Malik seemed like an ass. Ever since they had been sitting around the table, he only glanced in her direction once, and when he did, she caught him sneering at her. At least the disgust they had for each other was mutual.
“Your fiance is very lovely, is she not?”
King Roen's question was met with silence. Prince Malik decided to ignore him completely. He continued eating his ham and didn't say a word, not even to appease his frowning pater.
“Did you hear my question, son? Don't you think she's pretty?”
Prince Malik's reply was a shock to everyone. “Not especially, no.” The prince dropped his fork and glared in her direction. “She isn't hideous, I suppose, but I've certainly seen prettier.”
“What did you say?” When King Roen raised his voice, Kitt swore it shook the walls. “What did you say? Such rudeness! We are surrounded by important people, and you have the audacity to say... to say that? What will the girl's mother think? What will Princess Lyneah think? When you say things like that, you're a disgrace to your family and a disgrace to yourself!”
“Oh, here we go...” Malik rolled his eyes and tutted in frustration. “Do we live in a world where there is no value in honesty?”
“Honesty must be accompanied with tact, son, and you have none! I'm afraid I will have to punish you. Right now. In front of all these people!”
Queen Loreina was clearly amused by their argument. She had to raise a wine glass in front of her lips to conceal her smirk. Kitt briefly made eye contact with Doon, who looked just as surprised as she did.
“Bring the whipping boy!” King Roen hollered at his guards. “I must show my son there are consequences to his actions, regardless of where we are and who we're with!”
Whipping boy? Kitt could feel her eyes doubling in size. “King Roen...” she quietly spoke up, “I don't really think that's necessary. Your son didn't really offend--”
“I see you hiding your face, Malik!” The king's voice was thunderous, drowning out Kitt's. He thrust a finger at his son, whose face was indeed buried behind his palm. “If this shames you, I'm glad! You should be ashamed!”
A moment later, the door opened, and a skinny, frail-looking blonde boy was dragged into the dining room. He wasn't wearing a shirt or shoes, his eyes were hollow and sad, and he looked like he hadn't bathed in ages. As King Roen rose from his chair, he cradled his girth in his arms. The boy was shoved to the ground in front of him, and one of his guards handed him a long metal rod.
“Oh my!” Loreina quietly marveled at the scene that was unfolding in front of her. It was shocking even to her, and she wasn't easily shocked.
“Do not...” King Roen brought down the rod on the young man's back. The boy's cry echoed through the room, so loud that it shook the chandelier that towered above them. “Disrespect.” Roen hit the boy again, this time on the legs. “Your fiance!” The rod landed a third time, just below the rib cage.
Kitt closed her eyes and looked away. The beating continued—she could still hear the rod connecting, and the boy whimpering. But she couldn't bring herself to watch. The boy was slender and frail to begin with; he looked like he was a blow away from splitting in half.
When King Roen finished, he threw his metal rod to the ground and silently returned to his chair. One of his guards went to retrieve the discarded weapon, while another dragged the crying boy from the room. “I'm sorry you had to see that, ladies. Truly.” Roen was breathing heavily, having exhausted himself during the thrashing. “A lady should not have to witness such brutality, but my son could not be spared from shame.”
Kitt reluctantly shifted her gaze to Prince Malik. He had such an air of arrogance, she expected him to be unshaken. But his eyes were on the ground, and the hand that held his fork was trembling. Kitt wondered what was going through his mind.
“Well, that was certainly fascinating!” Loreina exclaimed. “You needn't apologize, Roen. I cannot remember the last time I saw such an interesting show.”
“It was not a show, my lady. I am not some foolish entertainer.” Roen's reply was surprisingly icy. “I was disciplining my son, and it was a very serious matter.”
“A... a show of strength, I mean.” A smile wavered on Loreina's lips as she fumbled to correct herself. “Mmhmm. It was very impressive!”
“And what does my son have to say?” King Roen jabbed his son's shoulder with a meaty finger. “An apology for your fiance, perhaps?”
“I'm sorry, my lady,” Malik quickly chimed in. His compliance was shocking. He seemed like an entirely different person all of a sudden, docile and obedient. “You are actually very pretty, and I was rude for saying otherwise.”
“It's... okay.” Kitt looked down at her plate, where the meat was growing cold. She couldn't even think about eating. Her entire appetite had been blasted away by the drama.
Everyone was mostly quiet after that, except for the red-haired duke, who somehow managed to keep commenting on the quality of the food. When the meal finally concluded, Kitt couldn't wait to get back to the princess' quarters. On her way out of the dining room, she was stopped by Doon, who captured her arm and tugged her toward him.
“Well...” he whispered, “That was an impressive amount of crazy.”
“Indeed,” she agreed. “It was very... intense.”
“There's nothing more dangerous and soul-destroying than an irrational father. I feel terrible for your fiance.”
“Not my fiance!” Kitt hissed the words directly into Doon's ear. “But... yes. I feel sorry for him too.”
“And he was such a twat before! It's too bad I have to feel sympathy for him now. I was looking forward to detesting him.” Doon chuckled softly, then he finally let go of her arm. “I'll be visiting you tonight, so don't go to bed too early.”
“But Doon, don't you think that's--”
Kitt's voice trailed off because it was useless to continue. He was gone before she had even started her reply.
16
Kitt was still awake at midnight. She laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for Doon to arrive. She didn't know why, but she was looking forward to his visit. On a conscious level, Kitt was pretty sure she hated him. But on another level, she couldn't wait to see him again. Perhaps she secretly enjoyed their endless banter? It hardly seemed reasonable to miss the man who had abducted her, but she also could not deny it.
Barnabus suddenly leapt onto her chest, knocking the wind right out of her. The dog seemed oblivious to the fact that his mechanical leg was incredibly heavy. And because she didn't want him clomping around on her windpipe, she sat up and moved him to her lap.
“Being trapped on a pirate ship wasn't so terrible,” Kitt whispered to Barnabus as she lightly scratched his head. “At least I got you out of the arrangement.”
Barnabus responded by tugging on her nightgown with his teeth. She was afraid he might poke a hole in it, so she lightly pulled it out of his mouth.
“You're quite a rascal, though, really,” Kitt playfully chided the pup. “But I suppose you were Doon's dog before you were mine. If you were anything less than a rascal, it would defy all logic.”
“Are you implying that I'm a rascal, Princess?”
When Kitt glanced over her shoulder and saw Doon emerging from the balcony doors, she clapped a hand over her mouth and squealed.
“Don't scream.” Doon laid a finger over his lips as he strode across the room. “You don't want to alert the guards. That's what I'm trying to avoid.”
“How did you... what are you... how did you get in here?” As the fragmented questions flew from Kitt's lips, Barnabus leapt from her lap and ran to greet his old friend. Doon lightly patted the dog's head, but he didn't give him more attention than that, even though Barnabus clearly craved it. He spent the rest of the time whimpering at Doon
's feet.
“I had the airship move in close, then I dropped down from a rope.”
Kitt's brow furrowed. “Why?”
“Didn't you hear me?” Doon pulled a cigarette from his pocket and slipped it between his lips. “I was trying to avoid the guards.” He lit it as it dangled from his mouth. After a couple of drags, he removed it and asked, “Do you really think they'd let a rogue like Francis Doon into the princess' bedchamber?”
“Well... I don't know. I have a feeling you'd get into the queen's bedchamber easily enough!”
“You've noticed that, have you?” Doon swaggered around the room as he talked, observing the palatial furniture. As he ran a hand along a ridiculously plush sofa, he said, “Queen Loreina's advances are annoying, to say the least.”
Kitt suddenly realized she was in her nightgown, so she pulled her blankets to her chin. “I wish you had given me some warning before you suddenly showed up in here. I would've put on a robe or something.”
“Ah. But you knew I was coming.”
“I didn't know you'd suddenly drop in from the balcony, though!” Kitt railed at him. “And... the smoking is such a terrible habit. Do you really have to do it in my room?”
“But it's not your room, right?” Doon asked with a smirk. “Unless you're changing your stance on actually being the princess, the room's not yours.”
“Well... it's the room I'm sleeping in right now, and I don't appreciate you stinking it up!”
“Are you always this rude to your guests, Princess?” Doon picked up an odd piece of artwork and examined it in his hands. With a sneer, he placed it back on the shelf and spun in Kitt's direction. “I'm getting a niggling feeling that you're not too terribly happy to see me.”
“No... I mean... yes?” Kitt sighed at her own confusion. “I mean... I don't mind that you're here, but I wish you would have warned me that you'd be literally dropping in from the sky.”
“Ah, well... sorry about that.”
“And I wish you wouldn't smoke.”
With a grunt and a grumble, Doon extinguished his cigarette on the side of the princess' dresser and deposited its smoking remains on a nearby table. “So...” he began, “as you know, I'm leaving on a mission tomorrow. I wanted to give you something before I go.”
“How long do you think you'll be gone?”
“A few days? A week? It's impossible to say.” Doon longingly stared at his extinguished cigarette. He was so disappointed about not being able to smoke, it made Kitt want to laugh.
“The queen isn't sending you anywhere dangerous, is she?”
“Are you serious?” Kitt's question made him chuckle. “My job's always dangerous. Or did you think I'd be rescuing orphaned puppies from trees?”
His reply had Kitt rolling her eyes. “Good god, you didn't have to be rude!”
“Of course I didn't have to be rude, but rudeness is usually my preference,” he said with a wink. “Anyway, I've heard some troubling rumors about people who want to kill you.”
Kitt could feel her eyes expanding. She didn't appreciate that he could talk about her death so casually. “What? Who?”
“The queen's advisor, an envious maid, the king's brother, a psychotic stableboy. Oh, and apparently there's a mad rebel who wants to murder the entire royal family. I doubt half of these rumors are true, but you can never be too careful.”
“So... this is my life now,” Kitt said with a sigh. Every time she started to think Doon wasn't such a bad person, she had to remind herself she wouldn't even be in such a predicament if not for him. “Thanks, Doon. You've really enriched my life by taking me against my will and making me pretend to be the princess.”
“You're welcome.” She looked infuriated with him, so he added, “Look, it can't be so bad. At least you have slippers to wear now!” He pointed at Kitt's bare toes, which were barely peeking out of a sable blanket. “Anyway, I wouldn't want you to die while I wasn't here to keep an eye on you.”
“I didn't realize you were keeping an eye on me. I feel so flattered.”
“Well, don't let it go to your head,” Doon retorted, then he reached into his coat and pulled out a long barreled revolver. “Here. This is for you.”
“A gun?” Kitt's nose wrinkled at the thought. “Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not a huge fan of guns.”
“You need to be able to protect yourself when I'm not here.” Doon held it out to her, and when she didn't take it, he practically thrust it into her hand. “Guns aren't that easy to come by, so you should be thanking me.”
“Oh, Doon...” When the gun was in her hand, she looked down at it with disgust. “I don't know about this.”
“You don't, but I do. Take it, and you'll be doing me a favor. I'll know I didn't leave you completely defenseless.” Doon sat beside her as he gave her instructions. “First, you need to pull back on the hammer.” He reached over and did it for her. “Keep your finger away from the trigger until you're ready to fire. Keep your arm straight. Press, don't pull.”
When Kitt raised the revolver, she stared down the barrel with a sigh. “I really hope this won't be necessary.”
Doon lifted her arm, encouraging her to keep it straight. “Some people prefer to close one eye, using only their dominant eye when they aim.”
“W-what if I don't have a dominant eye?”
“Everyone has a dominant eye.”
“What if I don't know which one is dominant?”
Doon dragged a hand across his face in frustration. “I don't know! Figure it out!”
“You have so much patience, Doon. You're really very kind,” she sarcastically told him. Kitt focused on a vase at the other end of the room and pretended to aim. She didn't want to fire, of course, but she wanted to get a feel for what it was like.
“As I've said before, you're a clever girl. I'm sure you'll figure out the rest on your own.”
“Clever, huh?” Kitt's eyebrow was raised when she turned to face him. For some reason, it felt strange to sit right next to him. She couldn't remember a time when Doon was so close to her, save for the time he carried her down a crowded street and no one seemed to care. Now that he was so close, she could see flecks of yellow in his mischievous brown eyes. “You know, that was almost a compliment!”
“I know. I'm almost getting too soft for my own good.”
“I'm such a bad influence on you!” Kitt added with a smile.
“It's true. You're terrible.” Sighing, Doon rose from the bed and stretched. “Anyway, Princess, keep that gun with you whenever you can. If you're in a public place, I'd recommend keeping it concealed. If you're sleeping, keep it close to your bed.”
“The more you talk about this, the more I feel like I'm going to need it.” Kitt grimaced at the thought. “You... you don't really think I'm in any kind of danger, do you?”
“You never know. Anyhow, I really must take my leave.”
“When you get back... can I leave the castle?”
“Of course.”
“Uh huh.” His eyes were telling a lie. She was starting to think he had no intention of taking her with him when he left. She would be trapped inside the castle forever—or at least until the real princess emerged, at which time she would surely be executed, and no mere gun could save her. There was no possible outcome that could result in a happy ending for her. Kitt knew that—and so did Doon. He probably gave her the gun to get her off his conscience and feel a little less guilty about ruining her life.
Even though he was probably her greatest nemesis, Kitt continued to feel strangely disheartened by Doon's departure. When she saw him moving toward the balcony, she gasped, “Wait!”
He turned around slowly. “Hm?”
“You are coming back, right?” she asked. “Can you really promise this won't be the last time I see you?”
“Indeed.” Doon clasped a hand over his chest and bowed to her. “I promise.”
As soon as she heard his reply, Kitt did something even more unusual. She leapt from the bed a
nd threw her arms around him. She would miss him—that was true—but in the back of her head, she always wanted to test what Miles told her about the captain. According to Miles, Doon had an aversion to human contact. If Miles was correct, Doon would not only reject her affection, he would hate it.
And he did. He pushed her arms away from him and asked, a bit roughly, “What on earth do you think you're doing?”
“I'm giving you a hug goodbye. Is that really so strange?”
“Well... don't do it.” He shoved Kitt's arms back to her sides and took a step away from her. “Though I may care about your well-being in some small way, don't expect me to feel particularly warm and fuzzy for you.”
“If I had to guess, I'd say you're not particularly warm and fuzzy for anyone,” Kitt said with a shrug. “Which is a shame, because you're not entirely without charm.”
“And now you're complimenting me. I'd say our relationship has improved by leaps and bounds.” Doon was chuckling as he swaggered to the balcony. “Do take care of yourself while I'm gone.”
When Kitt followed him out onto the balcony, she was surprised by what she saw. A long rope dangled from Doon's airship, which was hovering above the castle. Doon casually leapt from the edge of the balcony and onto the rope.
“That doesn't look safe!” Kitt called to him. “Be careful!”
“What... this? I do this all the time!”
Kitt didn't doubt him. He dangled from the rope as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As his men hoisted him up, Doon tipped his hat to her. “Farewell, Kitten!” he shouted to her as the rope ascended and the ship disappeared into the sky. “I'm sure we'll meet again!”
17
Dearest Princess Lyneah,
I offer my sincerest apologies for my behavior. You are a lovely young woman and I am a very lucky man. I would love it if you would join me for a picnic in the garden around noon. I feel it is past time we got to know each other better.
The Barefoot Barmaid (Belles & Bullets Book 1) Page 10