Downfall of the Curse

by Deborah Grace White

  She was sure he must be able to hear the frantic beating of her heart as he leaned close, whispering into her ear, “Hold on.”

  Then he yanked on the reins, urging his horse toward the two guards’ horses, grazing peacefully nearby. He had almost reached them when he pulled back sharply, causing his poor mount to rear up in confusion. The two other horses, still riderless, shied away from their fellow. Lucy clung on tightly, her stomach dropping as the horse’s hooves flailed, but she felt surprisingly secure with Eamon’s arms clamped firmly around her. When the horse regained its footing, Eamon again urged it forward much too quickly, and the two other creatures scattered.

  With a shout, the guards sprang after their mounts. Lucy once again found herself gripping the horse’s mane for dear life as Eamon pushed his horse into a canter, moving in the opposite direction from the guards.

  He wasn’t heading toward Raldon, but he didn’t go far before he pulled the horse to a stop, slipping from the saddle before Lucy could blink. He reached up, and she slid toward him, allowing him to pull her off the horse’s back as well.

  “How was that?” he asked, his eyes sparkling and his breath coming quickly as if he, and not the horse, had just dashed through the forest.

  Lucy couldn’t help laughing at the boyish excitement on his face. “That, Prince Eamon, was outrageous!”

  “Oh dear,” Eamon said, a shade of uncertainty behind his grin. “I’m sorry you thought so.”

  Lucy raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

  “Because,” said Eamon, swallowing visibly, “if you thought that was outrageous, I can only imagine what you’ll think of what I was planning to do next.”

  “Which was…?”

  Eamon took a step forward, and Lucy suddenly found herself with her back against a tree. She leaned into it, raising her eyes to Eamon’s from underneath her lashes, in a look she undeniably knew men found irresistible.

  “This,” said Eamon breathlessly, taking a final step forward to close the distance between them.

  Then his hand was on her cheek and his lips were on hers, and Lucy could have sworn her feet left the ground. It was a sweet kiss, chaste, just what a girl might expect her first kiss to be, coming from a seventeen-year-old boy whom she was fairly sure had never kissed anyone before either.

  She had heard plenty of gossip from some of the more flirtatious girls in the court, and she suspected they would have thought it tame and unexciting.

  But to Lucy, it was perfect. Her heart soared, and she leaned up toward him, her hand shyly reaching up to cover his on her cheek.

  Eamon pulled back suddenly, and before she could become too confused, Lucy heard the approaching hoof beats, too. The guards had clearly mastered their mounts.

  “Would that help win her over, do you think?” Eamon asked, his voice not as steady as usual. It took Lucy a moment to understand his reference to their earlier joking conversation.

  “It definitely wouldn’t hurt,” she said, her own voice coming out breathless.

  There was no time for more. Eamon turned toward the approaching guards, stepping slightly in front of Lucy. The change on their expressions as they thundered into view—from anxiety to relief to irritation—was almost comical.

  “Your Highness,” said the older of the two guards explosively. He swung down from his mount the moment he reached them, looking like he was restraining himself with difficulty from grabbing hold of the prince’s shoulder.

  “I know,” said Eamon penitently, the sparkle in his eyes giving him away. “It’s so embarrassing to have lost control of my mount like that. And in front of Lucy, too!” He shot her a glance that was full of mischief. “But I got hold of him before he’d bolted far, and you’ll be relieved to know that Lucy wasn’t harmed.”

  The guard was glowering as he looked from the prince to Lucy, who was barely holding in a giggle. “Indeed,” he said stiffly, inclining his head toward her. “I am pleased to hear it. And now, Your Highness,” he returned his glare to Eamon, “I suggest that we rejoin the rest of the group, in the town.”

  “Of course,” said Eamon amicably, turning to help Lucy into the saddle. He unleashed a smile on her that made her knees strangely weak as he again took hold of her waist and hoisted her up. “I’m so sorry to have delayed you, Lucy.”

  She just shook her head ruefully, her thoughts in too much of a whirl to find any witty banter for the outrageous prince. As he again reached his arms around her to grasp the reins, it was all she could do not to lean back into him. Even so, his nearness was intoxicating, her mind alight with the memory of his kiss. She didn’t think life could get any better than this.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lucy started awake in the darkness. It took her a moment to remember where she was, but her confusion didn’t slow her reflexes as her hand flew to the weapon hidden under her pillow.

  In one smooth movement she retrieved the blade and sat up, bringing the dagger in front of her. Her breath caught in her throat as the blade met another weapon with a metallic clang.

  “Nice reaction time,” came a soft voice from the darkness, sounding impressed and far too casual for the situation. “I could have sworn you were fast asleep.”

  “I was fast asleep,” Lucy retorted. Moonlight filtered in through the glass doors leading toward the interior courtyard, and she lowered her weapon slightly as her eyes adjusted enough to recognize the intruder. “And I could have sworn I was in my own private suite.”

  “Yes, it is fairly rude of me to drop in unannounced like this,” Lady Yasmin said lightly, settling herself into a more comfortable position on Lucy’s bed. “But I thought it was the safest way to speak to you without being overheard.”

  “Yes,” Lucy agreed pleasantly, eyeing the lethal-looking dagger that Lady Yasmin was laying down on the covers beside her. “Nothing makes me think ‘safe’ like an intruder coming into my bedroom at night and drawing a blade on me while I sleep.”

  Lady Yasmin chuckled. “I meant safe from interference,” she clarified. “But I didn’t draw my weapon on you while you were sleeping, you know. I only pulled it out on instinct once you brought yours out.”

  “I am deeply reassured,” said Lucy, her tone dry. She gave Lady Yasmin a long look. “When you say interference, you’re talking about Rasad, aren’t you? You don’t think he would want you talking to me.”

  “Straight to the point,” said Lady Yasmin approvingly. “I like that. Yes, I’m talking about Rasad, and no, I don’t think he would want me speaking with you. Do you?”

  Lucy regarded her silently for a moment, her gaze passing pointedly between the door to the courtyard—through which she assumed her visitor had entered—and the weapon still resting on the bed. “No, I don’t think he would. Maybe he has reason.”

  “I have no doubt he has his reasons,” said Lady Yasmin dryly. “I’m just not convinced they’re the reasons he wants people to think.”

  “I thought you said you liked to get straight to the point,” said Lucy.

  Lady Yasmin sat back, sighing. “You’re right. First, let me thank you again for not pursuing your complaint against my most idiotic of brothers, as you were undoubtedly within your rights to do.”

  Lucy couldn’t help but be amused by the older woman’s tone, although she kept her face impassive. “I didn’t do it as a favor to you.”

  The noblewoman regarded her shrewdly. “No, I’m sure you didn’t. Why did you do it? Why show lenience?”

  Lucy shrugged. “I have younger brothers of my own, you know. Three of them, so bear that in mind next time you’re inclined to feel sorry for yourself.”

  Lady Yasmin permitted herself a brief smile. “I’m all sympathy, believe me. But that’s not a real answer.”

  “Somehow I don’t feel that I’m the one who needs to give you answers,” said Lucy, calmly smoothing the bedclothes around her legs.

  Lady Yasmin sighed again. “You’re right, of course. But I don’t know if I can trust you.�
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  Lucy raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if you can trust me, either.”

  Both women were distracted from their conversation by the sound of the door leading from Lucy’s receiving room to the main corridor swinging suddenly, violently, open. Lucy hadn’t even freed her legs from the bedclothes when a figure came barreling into her bedchamber, weapon raised.

  She relaxed immediately, leaning back against the bedhead with a sigh.

  “Cody. So nice of you to join us.”

  “What’s going on here?” Cody scowled from Lady Yasmin to Lucy, as if the women were equally at fault for the situation he found them in.

  “No idea,” said Lucy, tipping her head toward Lady Yasmin. “Ask her.”

  The Thoranian woman had sprung to her feet at Cody’s entrance, her blade held at her side and her expression wary. But before either she or Cody could say a word, they both swung around, adopting identical defensive stances at the sound of the exterior door once again opening. Lucy, on the other hand, didn’t even bother to move this time.

  “Lucy,” sighed the newest arrival. “Can you seriously not go even a few hours without getting attacked?”

  Lucy raised her arms in a silent gesture of protest. “Why is it my fault when random people come after me out of nowhere?”

  “Matheus,” said Cody, his voice sharp. “What are you doing here?”

  “Following you,” said Matheus, settling himself on the other side of Lucy’s bed from where Lady Yasmin and Cody were still standing. “Did you forget that we’re sharing a suite? Did you really think I wouldn’t notice when you went barging out of the room in the middle of the night?” He gave Cody a stern look that was entirely out of place on his teenage face. “Come to think of it, I should be the one asking you what you’re doing, coming into my sister’s room in the dead of night.” He glanced at Lady Yasmin, looking suddenly self-conscious. “Lady Yasmin will get the wrong impression.” He adopted a serious expression. “My sister isn’t loose or anything, My Lady, Cody’s just a little over-protective. He’s like an uncle to us.”

  “No need to explain to me,” said Lady Yasmin with the hint of a smile. She had fully lowered her weapon by this time, and she glanced over at Lucy. “One of the brothers you mentioned, I gather.”

  “Yes, he is,” said Lucy shortly. “And you’re right that we have no need to explain anything to you. If you hadn’t broken into my room at this hour, you wouldn’t be getting the wrong impression about anything.”

  “I’m not getting the wrong impression now,” said Lady Yasmin, definitely amused by this time. “I know how to recognize family when I see it.” She laid her weapon down again, proceeding to light some candles on the bed stand, clearly quite at home.

  “Family or not,” Lucy grumbled, “I’m not really in the habit of letting people congregate in my bedroom when I’m trying to sleep.”

  “Well, no one’s sleeping now,” said Cody briskly. “So how about we get some explanations?”

  “Sure,” said Lucy, starting to get irritated. “Let’s start with you explaining how and why you came racing in here.”

  “You were attacked by a stranger in a public market today, Lucy,” said Cody impatiently. “You don’t think I’m going to be keeping a close eye on you after that? What kind of a guardian would I be if I didn’t notice someone sneaking into your room in the middle of the night?”

  “How did you know she was in here, though?” Lucy asked curiously.

  “Never mind that,” said Cody, a hint of smugness in his voice. “I have my ways.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes, directing her next words to Lady Yasmin. “Ignore the air of mystery. People tend to be impressed when they discover he was part of the infamous resistance during Nohl’s slave days. But he was actually just a kid, and they didn’t even let him do any fighting.”

  Cody scowled briefly at Lucy, while Lady Yasmin studied him with interest. “You were part of the resistance, were you?” She sounded impressed.

  Cody turned his attention to the Thoranian noblewoman. “Never mind my life story,” he said shortly. “What are you doing threatening Lucy in her bed while she’s sleeping? Last I checked she did you and your stupid brother a big favor.”

  Lady Yasmin sighed, running a hand through her long, dark hair. She was unusually tall for a woman, Lucy noticed. “She did do me and my stupid brother a big favor, and I’ve already thanked her for that.”

  “So we’ll just call it bygones,” said Lucy amicably. “Forget the whole thing.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” said Lady Yasmin. She fixed Lucy with a serious look. “I said I’d get straight to the point, and I will. I want to know who you are, and I don’t think I’ll get the answers I need with our delightful primary advisor around. What is Rasad to you?”

  Cody shifted slightly, the scowl returning to his face. Lucy ignored him, a dangerous note entering her voice as she met the noblewoman’s look. “Excuse me?”

  Lady Yasmin held her gaze for a long moment before letting out a breath. “All right then,” she said, apparently deciding not to pursue the question. “What do you know about whatever is going on in Balenol?”

  Lucy threw off her covers, pushing herself to her feet as the last of her patience fled. “First of all, I think we’ve already established that I don’t owe you any answers. Secondly, who says there’s anything going on in Balenol, and even if there was, what would it have to do with me?”

  “Maybe nothing,” said Lady Yasmin evenly. “And if Yosef hadn’t forced my hand, I obviously wouldn’t be breaking into your room to question you like this. But I think the ship has sailed on surreptitious observation.” She grimaced. “You probably won’t believe this, but even though he’s always been impulsive and foolish, he does actually mean well.”

  “Yes, he seemed lovely,” said Lucy conversationally. “I’m never one for the formalities, and there’s something nice about someone who doesn’t wait for a proper introduction before seizing you from behind and dragging you off to his lair.”

  Lady Yasmin sighed again. “You’re justified in your opinion,” she acknowledged. “Although he didn’t drag you anywhere in the end, did he?” She gave a sudden smile. “I’m glad you bested him, and not just because his plan for finding out what you know was…poorly thought out. You being able to beat him in a fight has done him more good than all the rest.”

  “Well, naturally we’re all pleased that Lucy could help your brother grow as a person,” interjected Cody impassively. “But the question remains—why in the kingdom did he try to abduct her in the first place? Rasad told us some unconvincing tale about a land dispute generations ago. Has that really made you two hate Rasad so much that you try to take it out on anyone who seems to be under his protection?”

  “I’m not under Rasad’s protection,” Lucy snapped, at the same time as Lady Yasmin protested.

  “Of course that’s not it. I couldn’t care less about whether Rasad’s ancestor bought his land fairly.” The Thoranian frowned. “The only relevance of that ancient history is that our homes are close to one another’s, and we’ve known Rasad all our lives. It’s true we don’t have any love for him, but it’s nothing to do with a land dispute.” She turned to Lucy. “And disliking Rasad isn’t why Yosef wanted to speak with you.”

  “Then why did he?” asked Matheus.

  Lucy glanced at her brother, reflecting that he had been very quiet since his arrival. She saw with a hint of amusement that his eyes were resting on Lady Yasmin with something akin to awe.

  And studying the Thoranian woman more closely, Lucy had to admit that she was impressive. She exuded confidence and capability, even in this bizarre setting. The diaphanous material of her local garment glinted in the candlelight, the gentle folds suiting her tall, commanding figure well. Lucy knew a stab of jealousy at the thought of how convenient the loosely falling pants—like skirts in appearance but like leggings in practicality—would be for training.

  Lady Yasmin was an
attractive woman, Lucy realized. She was too tall to be considered beautiful by exacting standards, but she had pleasant features. She was at least a decade older than Lucy, probably around thirty, but she certainly didn’t seem old. Lucy wondered why she was unmarried—probably too busy keeping her little brother out of trouble. Or perhaps, a contrary voice in Lucy’s head whispered, all Rasad’s talk about Thorania’s open-minded culture is just that, talk. Perhaps no one wants to marry Lady Yasmin. Perhaps being strong and capable and a fighter, as she clearly is, intimidates people here just as much as it would in Kynton.

  The room was still silent in response to Matheus’s question, and it took Lucy a moment to realize that Lady Yasmin was looking at her thoughtfully. She was clearly unsure how much to say.

  “Your brother mentioned something about the coronation of King Giles,” Lucy prompted. She saw Cody’s gaze shift to her, a frown creasing his forehead at this new information. “He seemed to think there had been some…incident that almost prevented it from happening.”

  “We have heard a rumor to that effect, yes,” said Lady Yasmin carefully.

  “Did you have spies in Rasad’s delegation?” Cody asked bluntly.

  Lady Yasmin sent him a shrewd look. “Spies is a dramatic description. Not all sources of information in and out of Thirl are controlled by Rasad, I’m happy to say.”

  Cody met the Thoranian’s look squarely, and Lucy could see the grudging respect in his eyes.

  “You speak of Rasad as though he has an iron grip on the city,” said Lucy, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t he King Abner’s trusted advisor? Isn’t his exercise of authority legitimate?”

  “It is,” Lady Yasmin acknowledged.

  “Then isn’t your opposition of him treasonous?” Cody challenged.

  “Of course not!” Lady Yasmin protested, looking shocked. “My family is loyal to the crown. We care for Thorania’s interests, always. Just not…” She hesitated. “Just not to the exclusion of all other considerations.”

  “What does that mean?” Lucy asked, frowning.