She bristled at the implication of her cowardice. ‘I’m not afraid to go out. The guards will keep us safe.’ She gave an order for Bernard to prepare a horse, as she faced Karl.
‘Afraid to ride with me?’ he dared her.
She only sent him a chilled look. ‘No. But there might not be enough room for me with your arrogance in the way.’ After straightening the ribbon beneath her chin, she awaited her own horse.
It was back-breaking work, hauling sacks of grain. Princess Serena had attempted to speak with the wives and children, offering words of comfort while Karl helped Bernard to unload the wagon. His footman had protested, saying that it wasn’t right for him to join in on the labour.
He’d ignored the man, needing the physical relief from being around Serena. The scent of her hair, the delicate beauty only reminded him of her bare skin and the way she’d responded to him. He wanted her in a way that went beyond the desire to join their bodies. If he could entice her, unravel her until she craved no other man but him … it still wouldn’t be enough.
They reached the last house, and it was growing dark. The sun grazed the edges of the sea, casting shades of purple and red across the sky. Karl led his horse up to the pathway, but there were no lights inside the tiny hut. He suspected it was one of the abandoned cottages and when they entered, the dwelling was dusty and barren. His first instinct was to leave, but once he spied a tiny cupboard against the wall, a sudden memory swept through him.
Darkness surrounded him, the air thick and heavy. His small hands had pressed against the door while the suffocating fear consumed him. He’d sobbed for hours without any understanding of why he was there. Only the knowledge that if he dared to push the door open, a worse punishment awaited him.
It was a recurring dream he’d had. And now, Karl recognized it for what it was—a faded memory from his past.
‘We should go,’ Serena said, starting to leave. ‘No one has lived here for years.’
Karl ignored her and walked over to the cupboard, opening it slowly. It was just large enough for a small boy to fit inside. The stifling dusty air of the house evoked pieces of the past he’d forgotten.
Until three weeks ago, when he’d seen the woman who was his real mother.
Serena’s footsteps came up behind him, and she stared at the cupboard, not understanding. ‘What is it?’
He was about to say ‘Nothing,’ when another memory flooded through him. A sharp pain, ripping through the back of his leg. Revulsion shuddered through him, and his scar held a phantom itch.
Serena returned to the front door, closing it. When they were alone, she took his hand. ‘Tell me.’
He shrugged, not knowing how to answer. The visions were blurred, and he hardly knew what was real and what was not.
‘The cupboard reminded me of a dream I had once,’ he said quietly. ‘I was locked inside, and though I cried for hours, I couldn’t get out.’ Karl drew in another breath, and the musty odour of the abandoned house seemed to push back the years. ‘It was a nightmare I had often.’
‘Many children are afraid of the dark,’ she said.
‘No. It was a memory of my past.’ He let go of her hand and went to close the cupboard door. ‘I saw her a few weeks ago. My real mother.’
The madness in the woman’s eyes bothered him still. Though she was hardly more than a stranger to him, her face had haunted those nightmares. ‘She locked me up when I was little. And she did this to me.’
He raised the leg of his trousers, revealing the reddened scar. ‘I remember screaming from the pain. She must have done it with a knife, when I was two or three. To make it possible to switch Michael and me.’
Serena’s face paled. ‘How dreadful. I can’t believe any mother would do such a thing to her son.’
His jaw tightened at the memory of her. ‘She never regretted what she did. I was never any son to her—just a means of getting closer to the king.’
‘In a way, I suppose she did you a favour,’ Serena said, returning to his side. ‘She sent you to a better place to live, where no one would hurt you.’
‘Perhaps.’ It was true that he’d been safer there. But he’d never felt part of the palace life. He remembered little of his early days there, only the feeling that he’d never really belonged. ‘But others were suspicious. They called me the Changeling Prince, when I was younger. I never understood why until a fortnight ago.’
‘Do you think the king suspected?’
‘No. He accepted me as his son, but it made the queen furious. She wanted nothing to do with me.’ Karl let out a bitter laugh. ‘All those years, I was so confused, not knowing why she despised me. I thought, if I followed their rules and became the perfect son, it would be enough. But as soon as Michael came to Lohenberg, they couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.’ He steeled himself and shut the cupboard. ‘It doesn’t matter any more.’
She was watching him with eyes filled with sympathy. ‘Don’t you want to go home?’
‘To a place where the people believe I was responsible for the deception?’ He shook his head. ‘I was three when it happened, Serena. I don’t remember a damned thing about the switch. But they blame me for it.’ His expression hardened into a tight shield. ‘You’re not the only one who wants an escape.’
Beneath Karl’s coldness, Serena saw the pain of a young boy who had never been loved. She was grateful that she’d had her own mother and sister, despite her father’s abuse.
But Karl had no one.
He strode toward the door, but she blocked his way. A tension knotted in his stance, a physical manifestation of his frustration. ‘We’re leaving, Serena.’
‘Not yet,’ she whispered. She clenched her hands together, her emotions tangled in a maelstrom of uncertainty. ‘You said that you were using me to gain a throne. Was that all there was between us?’ She wanted to believe that there was more, after all the time they’d spent together.
Her throat closed up as Karl’s face remained impassive. His hazel eyes gave nothing away, and his face resembled stone. ‘You’re better off without a man like me, Princess.’
Chapter Thirteen
Serena began pacing across his bedchamber, her thoughts in turmoil. Though she’d told herself that she’d been right all along, that Karl had only used her, it felt like he’d lied. There was more that he hadn’t said, a hovering sense that he did want her, even without a kingdom. He’d offered to stand by her side when she faced her father.
She didn’t know what to think of that.
A knock came at the door and her ladies entered. Serena sat at her dressing table while the ladies helped her out of her gown and brushed her hair. They offered to stay with her or read aloud, but she dismissed them for the night.
One of the ladies sent her a secretive smile. ‘Your Highness, forgive me for saying so, but I think your elopement was the most romantic tale I’ve ever heard.’ She let out a sigh and offered, ‘Even if he’s no longer the crown prince, Fürst Karl is wonderfully handsome.’
Serena gave a nod of agreement. Karl wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense, but there was a rugged quality to him, of a man who wasn’t entirely as refined as the princes she was used to. He broke the rules and did as he pleased.
He was also unbearably stubborn and refused to listen to reason. Her mind grew numb as she imagined her father’s guards arriving, seizing Karl, and imprisoning him for what he’d done. They might even execute him.
She closed her eyes at the thought. Though she was angry about the way he’d used her, she didn’t want him to die. In spite of his misguided actions, she had seen glimpses of a good man.
No, she could never ask him to stand by her side and face the king. He had to leave now, before the men reached Vertraumen.
Serena signalled to one of her ladies-in-waiting. ‘Please send for the … prince,’ she finished, unwilling to call him her husband. ‘I would like to speak with him.’
The woman bobbed a curtsy, but it was nearly a quarter
of an hour before Karl returned to her chamber. His face was damp, and she caught the faint spiciness of the soap he’d used. Serena dismissed her women, leaving them alone.
‘You summoned me, Your Highness?’ Karl said, in a mocking tone.
He wasn’t going to make this easy for her. But she needed to confront him, before she sent him away.
‘I want you to leave the island in the morning. You shouldn’t be here when my father arrives.’
Karl crossed the room, his hazel eyes boring into hers. He came close, as if daring her to hold her ground. ‘I’m not the obedient sort, am I?’
Her heartbeat quickened at his closeness, and she forced herself to stare at the woven carpet. ‘I thought I should warn you.’
‘And leave you alone to face his wrath?’ There was disbelief in his voice, and he reached out with one hand to cup her cheek. ‘You can’t do it alone.’
She pushed his hand away. ‘He might hurt me, but he’ll kill you.’
‘I don’t run from a fight.’ He bent his face against hers, his breath warming her throat. ‘Why did you really summon me to your bedchamber, Serena?’
She shuddered when his mouth kissed her pulse. His hands moved over the soft linen of her nightdress, loosening the ties. ‘Was there something else you wanted?’
‘Just—just to ask you to leave Vertraumen.’
His hands moved down her sides, reaching between her arms to slide against the curve of her breast, down her ribs, to her waist. He’d removed his coat earlier and the shirt he wore held the dampness of water. He pulled her hips close, and she felt the length of his arousal nestled against her. ‘And that’s all?’
At the closeness of his body against hers, she felt a strange aching. It reminded her of the sensations she’d felt when he’d touched her in the bath. And she knew that the longer she allowed him to stay, the more dangerous he was.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to push him back. ‘That’s all.’
In the morning, Karl sat inside the study with a map of Vertraumen unrolled before him. He wrote down lists of island assets as well as the liabilities. The organised lines calmed him as he made a second list of ideas for improvements. If they could devise a method of draining off the excess water from the fields and collecting it for other uses, it might be a way to improve the agriculture. Though he agreed with Serena that the majority of food needed to come from the mainland, it was never wise for an island to be entirely reliant on others.
The sound of footsteps approaching broke through his reverie. He saw Serena standing near the door to the library. She wore a blue tarlatan dress with a fringed shawl and white gloves. Her hair was tucked in a neat arrangement, her blond hair intricately braided around the chignon.
‘I don’t understand why you won’t leave the island,’ she began.
‘Because I don’t like being told what to do?’ Because hell would freeze over before he’d allow her to face more of her father’s physical wrath. He fully intended to stand between Serena and the king.
‘I’m only trying to help,’ she said. ‘Why can’t you be reasonable?’
‘Because you’re asking me to be a coward. And that’s not the sort of man I am.’
Her troubled green eyes met his, as if she were searching for a way to convince him. Karl turned his attention back to the map. ‘Is that all you wanted?’
‘No. I thought I would return to the village today and speak with Frau Bauherzen.’ She walked back into the hall, where her ladies held out her red cloak and bonnet. ‘While I await my father’s men, I’d like to know what else may be done to help the islanders.’
‘You’re not going alone,’ he warned, standing from his desk and following her.
Serena accepted her bonnet from one of the ladies and stood still while another tied the ribbons. Already she was slipping back into the role of a princess, letting others perform the tasks she was not expected to do. ‘I’ll take several of the guardsmen with me.’
He didn’t know if it was naivety on her part or pure stubbornness, but she wasn’t leaving the house again. ‘No. You’ll stay here.’
‘And do what? Organise the linens?’
‘Read and drink cups of chocolate,’ he suggested.
‘In other words, behave like a princess.’
‘No. Like a lady.’ He raised an eyebrow at her and spoke in front of the servants. ‘As my wife, I believe it is your duty to obey me.’
Her face flamed, for she seemed to have forgotten about their fictional marriage. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she formulated her own argument.
‘I am …’ She paused, reconsidering her argument. ‘I believe we should talk further, my lord.’ Without waiting for his reply, she returned to the study. The colour in her cheeks and the clench in her jaw meant she had more than a few words to say to him.
When she closed the door behind her, he crossed his arms. ‘Why are you so eager to leave the house?’
‘If I keep waiting here … for him, I’ll go mad. I have to be useful somehow.’
‘I’ll go with you, then.’
‘It seems a waste of your time while I speak with a dressmaker. Shouldn’t you continue the work you’ve been doing?’ She crossed over to the desk, studying the map he’d laid out of the island. She skimmed over his notes, her face turning serious as she absorbed his ideas.
‘What will you do about all of the people who have gone from Vertraumen?’ she asked. ‘How will you bring them back?’
‘Their families can write to them. Once we’ve brought opportunities for the existing families, I imagine many will return.’
‘Have you thought more about my idea to make the island a place for the wealthy to spend their holidays?’
He hadn’t, but he sat down across from her, letting her spin off her ideas. When she spoke of cottages along the sea coast, her face grew animated, her green eyes lit up with excitement. ‘It would give the women a way of bringing in coins, not just the men. They could cook and clean for the guests, and—’
‘Who would watch over their children?’
‘They could take turns,’ she offered. ‘Or perhaps the older women could look after the little ones. It could work, Karl. I know it could.’
He studied her. ‘It will take a great deal of time to build the houses. Most would be unwilling to live in small cottages.’
‘The cottages could be kept for the servants. We could build grander houses for the guests.’
‘And who would pay for the houses?’ he asked. ‘I’m a bastard, remember? I haven’t the funds for it.’
‘Your brother does.’
He said nothing for a time, but took out a piece of paper and handed it to her. ‘Write down your ideas.’
A hesitant smile crossed her face. ‘You mean, you’ll think about it?’
He nodded. ‘And after you’ve left the island, I’ll know what your wishes were.’
A shadow crossed her face at that, as if she no longer wanted to leave. ‘You’re truly going to stay here, then?’
He saw little alternative, since he had no desire to return to the empty house he owned near the borders. Turning his attention back to the map, he added, ‘I do know how to care for a country or a province, even if it’s no longer my right.’
She picked up the paper and reached for a pen, pulling up a chair on the opposite side of his desk. For the next few minutes, she wrote out lists, her hand moving steadily across the paper. Perfectly formed letters emerged from her pen, and as she bent over the paper, she pressed her lips together in thought.
Karl found himself wishing that one of her tightly pinned locks of hair might fall loose against her face so he’d have an excuse to touch her. What on earth had made him ever believe he could seize a creature like this and force her to wed him? Even if his plan had succeeded, she’d have grown to hate him for it. Perhaps it was best that none of it had come to pass. And he didn’t lose sight of the irony, that she’d lied to the servants abou
t a marriage, in order to maintain appearances.
A lie that did neither of them any good, for in spite of her ruined status, the princess would never bend the manners she’d been brought up with.
She set down her pen, her gaze discerning. ‘What are you thinking about?’
‘What makes you think the king will let you go?’ he asked softly. ‘You’re his heir, his eldest daughter. Do you think words will convince him?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve never stood up to him before.’ Her lips tightened together with apprehension. ‘I want to believe that he does love me, despite everything. And perhaps he’ll want me to be happy.’
‘You’re naive if you believe that.’
‘Do you have a better idea?’
Karl stood and went to her side of the desk, leaning back against it. ‘Marry me. And your father won’t be able to touch you.’ He had no intention of stepping aside, letting her surrender to the king. He intended to confront the man and make him pay for Serena’s years of suffering.
She shook her head. ‘I can’t make you into a prince. You know that.’
‘But I can take you away from the island. As your husband it would be my right to protect you.’ He reached out and touched a lock of her hair, pulling it free of the chignon to satisfy his desire.
‘You said I was better off without you.’
‘There’s no doubt of that.’ He crossed his arms. ‘It’s your choice.’
She remained quiet, thinking to herself. When she met his gaze at last, she shook her head. ‘If I wed you, he would find a way to punish us both. It wouldn’t solve anything.’
‘Then you’ve already given up.’
‘No, I haven’t,’ she snapped. She pushed back the chair and paced across the room. ‘Don’t you think I’m tired of being controlled by him? If you truly were a prince, perhaps I would marry you. But you’re not. Without any power against the king, you’re just another man standing in his way. He would destroy you, and I can’t let that happen.’
Her words were like a double-edged sword. You’re just another man. It was true, that he had no power against a king. He wasn’t a prince with political ties or alliances to stand against Badenstein. But it was her last words that struck the hardest: I can’t let that happen.
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