“Perhaps we should continue on to dancing.”
He turned in a flurry of coattails and moved to the center of the room, those polished shoes tapping against the floor in outrage. “Your aunt is most keen on having a ball in your honor.”
“Hooray,” I muttered under my breath. “Just what I want.”
Helen looked at me with sympathy. By this point she realized I hated being the center of attention. As a servant who’d been trained to hide in the shadows, she was the only one who understood. I pushed away from the table, and stood reluctantly to follow my enthusiastic teacher.
“We shall begin with the waltz. You did have the dance in Earth Realm?”
I didn’t miss the slight sneer to his voice. So arrogant. “Yes, we have the waltz. However, I don’t know it.”
He sighed, not bothering to hide his disappointment any longer. What a sham of a princess I was turning out to be. In the eyes of these people I couldn’t do even the simplest things. I wasn’t one of them, and maybe I never would be. The instructors gaze switched from me to the doors. A look of relief crossed his narrow, weasel-like features.
“Mr. Meade!”
Bryn stood in the hall. I couldn’t explain the sudden burst of happiness I felt at seeing his hesitant, wary form. Maybe I just wanted someone to share the boredom of my lesson. Or maybe I’d been waiting for him all along and just hadn’t realized. He wasn’t as thrilled to see me. The look upon his face told me all: he was wondering if he could bolt and get away with it, pretend he hadn’t heard Sir Williams call out his name. I wanted to laugh.
Pasting a pleasant look upon his face, he stepped into the room. Always the obedient soldier. “Yes, Sir?”
“Might you be of assistance?”
He bowed. “Of course.”
I resisted the urge to snort. It was so obvious he didn’t want to be here. He was the kind of guy who would rather be fighting to the death than dancing. Hell, I’d rather be fighting to the death than dancing. But I needed to see him, to talk to someone with a rational mind.
“The perfect partner,” Sir Williams gushed.
Bryn started into the room while Helen made her way to the piano in the far corner. Would Bryn see things from my point of view? Or would he be like the others? His boots echoed against the perfectly polished marble floor, coming closer…closer…
For some reason I grew nervous. “You don’t have to—”
“Don’t be silly,” he said, not a hint upon his face of how he felt. “You need to practice.”
It was still startling to see him without the facial scruff, and to realize he wasn’t much older than me. He took my hand, his fingers warm and calloused, and led me toward the middle of the floor. I followed meekly, watching him from the corner of my eye.
The scars that marked his skin here and there told me he had been injured more than anyone would care to count. This man might appear my age, he might seem calm and rational, but I realized as he led me toward the floor that he was completely out of my league. Set me down in the middle of the city and I’d find a way to survive, even thrive. But this, this was all new. He paused and we stood facing each other, our breaths mingling.
“You cut your hair,” I blurted.
“It happens. People do cut their hair.” He hesitated, searching my gaze. “Do you not approve?”
“Do you care?”
Ding. Ding. Ding.
The sound of Helen warming up on the piano interrupted our conversation. I dared to look her way, but he continued to stare at me. I could feel his attention like the heat of the sun. Nothing would dissuade him. If he took my side, he would be a formidable ally.
“You are the princess.”
I flushed as I slid my gaze back to him. Was he flirting? If he was, I didn’t hate it. “I approve.”
“Thank the heavens.” He smiled. It was a quick quirk of the corners of his mouth that showed that dimple, but a smile all the same. In that moment he was more handsome than any man I’d ever seen. In that moment I realized why they all adored him.
I smiled back.
“God forbid I make the princess angry.”
He was teasing, but I was about to test his loyalty. “Can I command people to shave? Cut their hair?”
He shrugged as he placed his hand, warm and heavy, at my hip. His touch burned through the thin material of my gown, shockingly intimate and comforting. My toes curled into my slippers.
“I suppose you can order anything you want.”
We both knew that wasn’t true. Sir Williams assessed us from near the piano, his beady eyes taking in every little thing. I placed my free hand on Bryn’s broad shoulder. His warm male scent overwhelmed the smell of flowery cleaning products. Everything about him screamed manly. Helen started to play the piano from the far corner, the notes echoing through the large ball room.
“Well then,” I started. “I order the two prisoners in the dungeon to be released.”
Without warning, he twirled me around, not missing a beat. I stepped on his foot, stumbled, but his muscled arm tightened around me, pulling me close and holding me upright. “That you can’t do. For your own good.”
My anger flared. I was damn tired of people telling me what I could and couldn’t do. “What the hell does that mean?”
“No, no, Princess, you must step back when he steps forward!”
I dismissed the instructor’s comment, focusing on Bryn and what was important. “Why can’t I?”
He narrowed his eyes, studying my face. The easy grace of his steps faltered and his movements became stiff. His good mood had vanished. But I wouldn’t regret bringing up the subject. “Do you feel some special affinity for the kingdom that killed your parents?”
His voice was lethally quiet.
The words hit me hard. An image of the painting that hung in the foyer crossed my mind’s eyes. An image that haunted my nights. No one had told me the details. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I had a feeling he was going to tell me anyway. “Of course not.”
“Their carriage was ambushed,” he said in an even tone. To Sir Williams and Helen, it must have looked as if we were sharing some intimate conversation. “For no reason. We had signed a peace treaty. They tortured them.”
My legs stopped working and I froze, forcing him to pause. No. Prince Makaiden was annoying, but he wouldn’t…his family wouldn’t… Then again why would Bryn lie?
My heart hammered as my mind raced. Had they suffered long? How afraid they must have been. A cold sweat broke out between my shoulder blades. I wished I could remember them. Remember anything of this life. “That is why you sent me to Earth?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, releasing his hold and stepping back. Without his touch I swayed, lost, floating, not quite connected to my body or this world. “But you have to know.”
“Is there a problem?” Sir Williams called out.
Helen stopped playing the piano, the notes dying in the air around us, much like any affection Bryn had for me. I’d thought his face stoic, unreadable. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized his emotions could be read in those blue eyes. Hard to see, but there all the same. When I mentioned the prince, any warmth had fled.
“Shall we begin again?” Sir Williams asked timidly, perhaps sensing the tension.
Bryn bowed, stiff and formal. I was no longer a friend to flirt with, but merely the princess once more. “I apologize. I have something to do.”
He turned on his heel and swept from the ballroom, leaving behind his masculine scent and the worrying thought of my parent’s death. My hands curled as I resisted the urge to call him back, to apologize. Time. I would need time to deal with Bryn. However, I wasn’t sure how much time I had left.
“Well then,” Sir Williams sighed. “Shall I find another, more willing partner?”
Feeling bleak and useless, I headed toward the large floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the gardens where Makaiden had saved me. “I’m done.”
“But, my dear—�
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“I’m done,” I snapped, more harshly than I’d intended. I’d feel guilty later. For now, I merely wanted to stew in my misery alone. “Please leave.”
He stalked toward the table, murmuring a few indecipherable words as he gathered up his materials. Not only would I be known as a useless princess, but a bitch as well. So be it. I’d been called worse.
Embrace the bitch, my mom had said long ago. Every woman has to get to that point.
She did have some words of wisdom. I didn’t bother to say goodbye when he left, and neither did he. I could see Helen’s reflection in the windows as she moved hesitantly toward me. Hell, I could practically taste her anxiety. Part of me felt guilty. She was a servant who desperately needed her job, but I was tired of carrying the weight of their lives upon my shoulders.
“Are you well, my lady?”
“Fine.” I crossed my arms over my chest. They were going to kill Makaiden, and I couldn’t stop them. Why did I care? Why did I feel a connection to the guy who had every intention of handing me over to his murderous uncle? The guy whose very family had tortured my parents?
Because he’d saved me twice now. Twice, when he could have let me die. Because I’d seen something in his eyes that told me there was more to him. A depth that few people knew about.
“Don’t take Brynjar’s grumpiness to heart, my lady. His parents were killed years ago. His mother in childbirth, his father in war.” She paused next to me, her soft, rose scent comforting. “The castle sort of took him in. He rose in the ranks, and is now highly decorated. But he had to learn to control his emotions at a young age.”
I slid her a glance, my curiosity caught. “Married?”
“No.”
“Dating?”
She frowned. “Dating? I don’t understand.”
“Is he with someone, like, intended? Matched? Whatever you call it here?”
“Oh, I see. No. Not that I believe.” She smiled a wicked grin that made me blush. “Are you interested? My lady, I must tell you that your aunt would never approve a match. You will marry someone who will add to our lands, our security. Another royal, most likely. Poor Brynjar has nothing.”
I gave her a hard look. An arranged marriage? “You’ve got to be kidding.”
She shook her head, growing entirely too serious.
“Wonderful. I’m trapped in the Medieval Era.” I moved back to the small table in the corner of the room and slumped into the chair. A tray with a variety of pretty pastries were waiting to be eaten. “Well, at least the cakes look good. Please tell me they’re not made of ground Pegasus or something.”
I picked up a tiny white cake, then tossed it back to the plate, my appetite gone.
“Of course not.” Helen smiled sweetly. “Ground Fairy.”
I shoved the plate away and gagged.
She laughed, a sound that tinkled like the keys of her piano. “Merely jesting.”
I looked at her in surprise, my mood lifting for the briefest of moments. “Wow, I’m proud of you. Actually making jokes and all.”
She flushed, taking the chair across from mine. “I learned from you.”
A slow grin spread across my face. I’d changed Helen. She’d been shy, nervous when I’d first met her only days ago. Now she was fast becoming a friend who spoke her thoughts. Could I change the general’s mind as well before tomorrow morning?
I sighed. “I asked Bryn for his support in stopping the beheadings.”
“And it didn’t go as you wished?”
My chest felt tight. “No. He became almost angry. Angrier than I’ve ever seen him. Basically accused me of caring more for the people who killed my parents, than my own kingdom.”
Helen shook her head. “My lady, has it ever crossed your mind that Brynjar might be jealous?”
I frowned. “Of what?”
She looked at me as if I was stupid. “Of the attention you place upon the prince.”
I laughed. What attention? Up until yesterday, I’d barely thought about the man. “No. Of course not. Why would he…”
Was he?
She quirked a brow. “Whether you prefer Brynjar or not, doesn’t matter, for he seems to fancy you.”
I flushed, wishing desperately to change the subject. Brynjar liked me? No. Impossible. He avoided me, for God’s sake.
Sadie came bounding into the room, a bolt of white fluff. The dog didn’t stop until she reached my side, then jumped into my lap. Smiling, I cuddled the fur ball close, scratching under her ear. At least she liked me.
Helen took a little, pink cake and placed it on my plate. “There’s nothing you can do to stop the beheading, my lady. So why be upset?”
Bloodthirsty chick. It was all so normal to her. War. Murder. Backstabbing. So normal to this entire realm. Sadie licked my nose, making me laugh. “Here, have a bit of cake.” I broke off a piece of the confection and let the dog gobble it from my fingers. “Greedy.”
She jumped from my lap.
“Maybe,” I said. “Unless there is something I can do.”
She looked wary. “Something what?”
I shrugged; not sure I should tell her my plan. Frankly, I still wasn’t sure if her loyalty lied completely with me, or this kingdom. However, if I could get to the dungeon unseen, steal the keys, release the prince…
“My lady,” Helen whispered furiously. “You can’t possibly be thinking that you could help them escape! That is treason!”
Sadie barked, then whimpered, walking in a circle at my feet. Helen made me feel as if I was violating our kingdom in some way, when I only wanted to help. More than annoyed, I leaned back in my chair, and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m the princess. What could they do to me?”
“You aren’t protected from all, my lady. You are not a dictator.” She slammed her palms onto the tabletop, rattling the dinnerware and surprising me with her flare of emotion. Sadie darted under the table. “There’s a reason why you are the last in your family line.”
The color had leached from her face. Whatever she was about to tell me was bad. Really bad. “Why? What reason?”
She leaned closer, as if afraid of being overheard when we were the only two in the room. “Your brother was beheaded for treason. He sold information to the other kingdoms. If you want to keep your head, you’d do best to keep your mouth shut.”
I was startled from her comment when Sadie whimpered again.
“Oh, what is it, you silly dog?” Helen snapped, lifting the table cloth and looking under the table. “You better not be…”
Helen stiffened. The room grew quiet.
I stood. “What is it?”
Helen dropped the cloth and surged to her feet. In one quick movement, she swept her arms across the table, sending the plate of cakes to the ground. The shattering sound was terrifying. Two guards rushed into the room.
“Don’t touch the cakes!” Helen screamed.
They froze in the middle of the room.
“Helen, what is it?”
“Sadie is dead!” She raced around the table and grabbed my hands. “The cakes were poisoned.”
Chapter Eight
Makaiden
“They’re coming,” Gregor said from the dark corner where he had settled hours ago, as if I couldn’t hear the heavy thud of footsteps in the hall outside the door.
I’d spent the night waiting in the silence, down in the bowels of the castle where sound did not penetrate. But I could still feel the excited energy from above. It seeped through the stone, making me all too aware that they were thrilled with their catch. I couldn’t blame them. Hadn’t I been just as excited when I’d captured the princess?
All night I’d watched the stars move across our tiny window. How slow the time had gone. Pure torture. So slow I thought I’d go mad. And now it was here. The last few moments of my life were rushing by like a river breaking through a dam, and as hard as I tried to scoop up that racing water, it merely slid through my fingers.
Gregor released
a wry laugh as he stood, his chains clanging together. He would meet the enemy on his feet. “I actually thought your little princess might have a heart and save us.”
“She’s not my princess,” I said, annoyed, although why, I wasn’t sure. Slowly, I stood. Perhaps because I didn’t want to die with Gregor thinking I’d betrayed him for a woman. Or maybe deep down, I wondered if I had. “And she’s smart. I’d do the same thing. When you rule, you can’t allow feelings to get in the way.”
“You sound like your uncle.”
My jaw clenched. Perhaps he hadn’t meant it as an insult, but I took it as such. Even after my parents were gone, I’d never thought much about my own demise. I’d always managed to get out of one scrape or another. Could I now? It seemed near to impossible. But I did have options. Desperate options that could get people killed.
“I’m not in love with her, you know.”
Gregor slid me a wary glance.
“I’m not. I barely know her. I merely find her boldness intriguing.”
He snorted.
I gritted my teeth so hard I was surprised they didn’t crack. If we were going to die, I didn’t want to die like this: angry, with Gregor disappointed in me. “Basel gave me the potion.”
The potion that had failed.
Gregor shook his head. “The sorcerer is an idiot. Pathetic excuse for a magician.”
Footsteps thudded closer, closer. It sounded like a damn army coming for us. It probably was. “Or maybe he did it on purpose.”
Gregor jerked his surprised gaze toward me. “You think he’s working with your uncle?”
The bolt drew back, metal screeching against metal. I didn’t have time to respond. Basel might not be smart enough to plan something himself, but my uncle certainly was. It wouldn’t have surprised me in the least if my uncle had told Basel to give us the wrong dosage.
The door opened. As far down the hall as one could see, soldiers lined the passageway. We’d be well escorted to our death; they wouldn’t take any chances. I supposed I should have thought of the many guards as a compliment. They feared us. Fear caused people to make mistakes. Fear was half the battle.
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