She made her way into the refuse. The smell of the garbage and waste made her gag, but she ignored it. All her life, she’d lived where everything was clean and smelled sweet, even the place she kept her waste bucket. Jessamae came in her rooms several times a day to make sure she never had to deal with anything foul.
She’d never given any thought to where all the nasty things were taken, but now she knew. The knowledge should have disgusted her. Only a few days ago, she would have lost her lunch and run from this place, vowing to forget she’d ever seen it.
Today, though, all she could think about was the man who was trapped below all this rotting food, moldy bread, and contents of the waste buckets of an entire palace. How long had he been down there, and how often did servants dump more garbage here? How could anyone survive down there?
The trapdoor should have been easy to find; her father and the Amar had just come through it, but Mariana fell on her knees in the middle of the garbage pit, digging with her hands to find some evidence of the door she knew was here.
After some time, her hair came loose from the scarf, and sweat plastered strands to her face. Mud and unidentifiable muck stained her gown, and she had breathed enough of the foul odor she couldn’t even smell anything else.
Still, though, she couldn’t find the door. It had to be hidden by some magic.
Mariana sat back on her heels and wiped her hand across her forehead. The sun was dropping toward the horizon and soon, she knew, her family would assemble for the evening meal, and her absence would be noted.
How could she go back after what she’d learned? If her father was willing to kill a random man just to show the people of the kingdom he was in charge, he wouldn’t listen to her pleas about her marriage.
When the tears began to flow down her cheeks, she didn’t try to stop them, regardless of her mother’s admonitions about how Princesses, and Progennas, apparently, do not cry over circumstances they cannot change. They stand tall and find a way to turn the situation to their advantage.
Mariana knew there was nothing she could do about this situation that would be to her advantage. She was stuck. She would have to watch a relatively innocent man be murdered at her father’s whim, and that same whim would force her to give her body, in fact, her whole life, to a man she couldn’t stand the sight of.
She stared around and saw the tulips had withered. They were nothing but brown stalks and dried-up leaves. The beautiful colorful blooms had fallen to the ground to rest among the offal, dung, and decaying vegetables. If she returned to the palace, and to the only life she knew, she would become like these tulips few people noticed. They were beautiful for a short time, and then died and rotted.
Even knowing all that, what else could she do? She was the Progenna, daughter of the King.
Then her mind began to buzz like insects on a humid summer afternoon.
Progenna. It was a made-up title and meant little to anyone outside Valborough. Even to the surrounding countries, their allies and enemies, the word, the title was meaningless. More times than she could count, she’d been embarrassed as her father or mother introduced her to a visiting dignitary and had to explain the reason for her not being a Princess.
Now she was being sold off, for there was no better way to describe it, to a horrid, frightening man merely because he had no magical power to speak of. What he had was money and land that could be used to support the crown. She was no better than a head of cattle or a piece of property.
What if she left? The idea entered her mind like an unexpected gift from a favorite relative.
Mariana grew up in the palace, as her father had been Cognate Prince and Heir Presumptive when she was born. It had never been a possibility she should or could live anywhere other than a palace or an estate owned by a high-ranking member of the nobility.
From the moment she’d been born, she’d been little more than a fancy living ornament, raised and trained to be attractive to the right customer so she could be sold off for whatever the appropriate currency was. In her case, it was lack of Sensitivity so no man’s magic would be wasted on her.
That wasn’t important, though. The only thing she was certain of was that she didn’t want to be a decorative accessory on the Sahdeer of Valentine’s arm at social functions or in his home.
Unless she took some drastic action, that was exactly what would happen. As a plan began to unfold in her mind, she went back to the palace to sneak into her room.
Chapter Eight
Getting back into her rooms in the palace was not as easy as Mariana had expected. She hadn’t anticipated being covered with mud and muck from the garbage dump. While, for the most part, the servants had been trained to pretend they never saw anything amiss with the royal family, they tended to treat her like a child, and, if they saw her like this, they’d be certain to hurry to help her get cleaned up before the King and Queen saw her.
They wouldn’t ask many questions because that would imply they had a right to know what the family did and why, but Mariana knew they gossiped with each other and the servants and shopkeepers in town. Eventually, someone would want to know why the Progenna had come home smelling like animal waste and covered in mud.
She went through the forest that led to the back wall of the palace, which was close to the servants’ wing. The stables were also located nearby, and she found a trough where the animals drank. When she approached it, she blinked as all the hay, grass, and insects that generally fouled the water rushed to one corner of the wooden structure.
Mariana didn’t feel any breeze that would account for this kind of movement, and she searched for another explanation. Seeing nothing that satisfied her, she turned back to the water. The debris had vanished.
The liquid in the trough was as fresh and clear as though it has spent the last few days tumbling down from a snow-covered mountain. She could even feel the crisp chill as she stood next to it.
She didn’t have time to investigate this any further. Based on the position of the sun, most of the servants were eating their own meal or preparing to serve the family’s, so she had to hurry.
Without allowing herself to think about what she was doing, Mariana dunked her head into the ice-cold water, used her hands to clean her face the best she could, and came out, undoing her braids. Another dunk to rinse her hair and she came up, dripping.
Quickly, she redid her braid, trying not to worry about how messy it had to look without Jessamae to help. As she finished the last few twists, she realized her hair was nearly dry. The sun was far from hot enough to account for it. Maybe one of the palace’s Water Sensitives had enchanted the trough somehow.
Clean laundry hung near one of the doors that led to the butler’s private home, and to her delight, several dresses, undoubtedly belonging to his wife, were waving back and forth in the gentle evening breeze. Mariana grabbed one and hurried into the stables.
When she had changed and discarded the soiled gown among the old hay behind the building, she walked with as much dignity as she could through the servants’ wing to her room.
Her mother and father had taken their dinner in their rooms, so Mariana was to dine alone, too. This gave her a chance to think about what she’d seen and what she planned to do about it.
She knew the only way to help herself and find a way to keep an innocent man from being executed was to leave the palace.
****
Orlando stood helplessly in the entrance of the cave chamber, watching his sister stoically attempt to make the barren space a home.
“Say something, Dira,” he pleaded, not for the first time since she and the boys arrived at the hideout.
“No.” She arranged blankets and hay-stuffed pallets on the floor in the corner. “Airis, this can be your bed. Let’s get you tucked in.”
“But, Ma, I wanted to wait up until Father got here,” the six-year-old said, but he walked over to her, dragging his feet.
Adindira bit her lip and glared at Orlando. “Papa won�
��t be back until late,” she said, turning a smile on her son. “He would want you to be asleep even though we’re not at our house. Be a good boy.”
“Yes, Mama.” Airis’s shoulders were slumped as he removed his tunic and trousers and slipped beneath a blanket in just his underclothes.
Dira kissed him and murmured something in his ear. Then she moved over to the other two beds that were in place nearby.
Rianaer sat out by the fire with the other men, but Dira’s middle son, Mirit, was already breathing deeply, facing the cave wall. His mother kissed his forehead, then walked to the entrance, brushing past her brother.
“I will talk to you now,” she muttered and headed for the main room, where the rest of the rebels were gathered.
“You want to talk here?” Orlando asked when they reached the others.
“What I have to say to you would be better said where only the trees will overhear.” She walked out into the darkening forest.
“I wouldn’t want to be you right now,” Traren said, taking a puff on his pipe.
Orlando sighed and nodded, but followed his sister.
“Elnys is in the dungeon because of you,” she said without preamble when he reached her side. She stared out at the approaching night.
“I know, Dira. I know.”
“You were in that square when the guards had my husband in chains, and you didn’t do anything about it.”
“What should I have done?”
Now she yelled at him. “You could have run up to the guards and told them they had the wrong man. You could have thrown yourself on the mercy of the King.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Dira, they’d have only taken us both. You know that. And the men…” His voice trailed off. What could he say without sounding like a self-important jerk?
She nodded. “I know. You’re important to the cause. The men will follow you because of what happened at Clearlea. I’ve heard it from Elnys and Rianaer so often sometimes I want to scream every time I hear your name.”
“I’m sorry,” Orlando said, but he wasn’t sure why he was apologizing, which happened a lot when he was talking to his sister.
“Oh, Lando. It’s not your fault. You did what you had to during that battle, and while I don’t want my husband in the King’s dungeon, I certainly don’t want you there, either.” Adindira threw up her hands. “I’m just so angry.”
“At me?”
“At you. At Elnys with his overblown sense of nobility. At the King for being such a tyrant he would drive all you men to do the dangerous things you do.” She shook her head. “I’m mad at the whole world right now.”
Orlando took his sister into his arms. “I’ll get him back. I promise. A few of our men who have connections at the palace are already there, trying to find out what they can.”
He knew the instant she let her strength go and began to cry silently against his shoulder.
Dira had been his only friend when he’d been kicked out of his father’s house and gone to live with his mother and her family. There he’d found four siblings: three younger brothers who resented his appearance in a household that had managed fine without him, and a beautiful little sister.
Adindira, the oldest of the four, took pity on Orlando and treated him like he’d been there all along, helping him figure out how things were done and acting like another mother, even though she was three years younger.
She had been strong her whole life, struggling to deal with a hard life as a farmer’s wife in a kingdom that often valued magic over labor. It was time someone took care of Adindira for a change. Orlando had to figure out how to do that.
After Dira cried herself out, she kissed him and went into the chamber where her boys slept. The rebels in the cave watched as he walked her there, but no one said anything.
They didn’t have to. He knew they were wondering what he was going to do to get Elnys out of the dungeon.
He was wondering that, too. What did he know about the palace or how to escape the dungeons? Elements, he didn’t even know where the dungeons were.
If Elnys was executed, Dira would never get over it, and while she claimed not to blame him for it, Orlando knew their relationship wouldn’t recover.
****
Mariana felt as though she would scream. Did it always take so long for the palace to quiet down? Three times tonight, she’d had to talk to someone in her family, assuring them she was taking seriously Pir Leo’s offer of marriage.
Ramone and Victoria came to see her, which was unusual given the Grand Sahdess had to use her Air Sensitivity just to get up the staircase. Her brother congratulated her on catching the eye of the Sahdeer of Valentine, as though that were something she actively sought.
Through that visit and the one from Ursula, who’d been so happy they would be married ladies together, she’d acted the way a normal princess was expected to behave when a wealthy nobleman wanted to marry her. However, as soon as her guests left, she went back to what she needed to do.
Packing a valise to leave the palace.
Her small valise, the one Jessamae carried to parties and balls with a change of clothing and whatever essentials she might need, was all she could risk taking with her. Because female members of the royal family never went anywhere without extra garments, no one would question if she left the palace with it.
Finally, when she peeked out into the hallway, she sighed in relief that the lamps had been dimmed and no more muted conversations drifted up the stairs from servants or family members. The palace was quiet for the night, and she could sneak down to her father’s office.
He kept a bag of gold coins in a hidden compartment in the floor under his desk. She’d discovered it once when she hid there as a child, trying to get out of going to the hospital to visit wounded soldiers. After all these years, Mariana had kept her discovery a secret, but she had, from time to time, gone into the office and taken a bit, mostly to reassure herself the money was still there.
Why that knowledge had given her comfort, she couldn’t say, but tonight she was glad for it.
Like the rest of the first floor of the palace, the office was dark but the door was unlocked. She got inside, closed the door, and found the right part of the floor without lighting a lamp. Then she put five handfuls of coins in her bag and fastened the latch.
That was the last thing she needed to pack, so she left the office and crept around through the hallways to the side door that faced Byspell Lake, which was right outside the curtain wall.
Only a few guards were stationed at important points in the public areas, but Mariana knew she’d have no trouble walking right past them. She and Ursula had often sneaked out of the palace after curfew when they were teenagers to swim in the lake. The guards were well aware of this activity, and as they saw no harm in letting them swim, they said nothing to the King, but kept a quiet eye on the girls to make sure no outsiders found out about this.
It had been years since Mariana had done this, but she was sure she could talk her way around any guard who tried to stop her. To keep up the ruse, over her dress she wore the long summer robe that usually covered her bathing suit.
Her footsteps sounded loud to her ears as she walked through the palace. However, no one came out to stop her.
“Going swimming?” The guard at the door winked at her. To her relief it was an older man who had known her as a child.
“Since the weather’s beginning to turn colder, I thought this might be my last chance.” She smiled as brightly as she could, given she was trembling under the robe.
“Are you sure it’s not too cold out there tonight?” he asked. “I thought I saw some clouds building as I made my evening rounds.”
“Oh, I hope not.” She put as much disappointment into her voice as she could and yet still sound realistic. “I haven’t been able to go night swimming since we’ve been here.” With the head dip Ursula had taught her when they talked about flirting with the guards, she bit her lip and gazed at him throug
h her lashes.
He spoke to her as though she were his granddaughter. “I probably should send you back to your room, but there won’t be many more nights warm enough.” He winked. “If it starts to rain or gets too cold, promise me you’ll come back before you get sick or your father finds out where you’ve gone.”
Mariana got up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You’re a sweetheart. Thank you.”
Calmly, and with as much dignity as though she were entering a royal ceremony, she walked through the courtyard to the gate. The keeper opened it without questioning her being there. If the guard at the palace entrance didn’t stop her, he wouldn’t.
The Progenna’s heart pounded against her ribs, and she was sure her parents were watching from their bedroom windows. She didn’t dare turn to look, but kept her head raised and moved with purpose.
When she reached the lake, she sat down and opened her valise, hoping anyone watching her would believe nothing more was happening here than a young woman preparing to go swimming alone.
After she had silently counted to one hundred and whispered a prayer to the Divine Sensitive that no eyes were on her, she shrugged out of the robe, shoved it in the bag, and left the lake, hurrying through the forest.
****
Orlando rode his horse along the moonlit path at a gentle walk. He had told his men he was going to patrol the forest to look for soldiers, but in reality, he needed to get away from things and try to figure out what he was going to do next.
“Help!”
He surveyed the surrounding area to determine where the voice had come from. He hadn’t seen anyone out here except some of the rebels, and that was certainly not a male voice.
This was the royal forest, and if he were discovered by the Guards, he’d have little excuse for being there. While he had been wondering how he would find Elnys, getting thrown in the dungeon too wouldn’t help either of them.
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