Drake glanced around the table. Rommel didn’t know the plan the Council had come up with over the last few months. He didn’t know that the operatives planned to use Princess Mykaleen to get Adler’s weapons. Drake didn’t like it. He didn’t like using people as bait, but Trev and King Davin had been outvoted by Bryant, Marx, Reddick, and Hilton. The plan was to kidnap the princess, and Drake had to go along with it.
“We’re not going to hurt anybody,” Dawsick said with a fake smile. Was that the smile he used on Bryant to get the king to trust him?
Rommel nodded then turned, walking out of the inn.
“If King Adler is sick, it’s a good thing we’re acting now,” Portlend said.
Kase rested his elbows on the table out in front of him. “I agree. Adler’s illness provides the perfect distraction.”
“Well, I’m nervous about the plan,” Grady said. “We haven’t even talked about the logistics of the kidnapping.”
Dawsick rolled his eyes. “Let’s surround her and grab her off her horse. She’s a princess. How hard can it be?”
Drake didn’t know these men well enough to trust their abilities and he didn’t want anything to go wrong. He’d rather do the hard stuff himself. “I can take point on the kidnapping, and the princess can ride with me to the camp. Once we get there, we can figure everything else out.”
“Fine.” Winslow stood. “Is everyone ready to go? If Arco’s letter has the timing right, we’ll need to leave for Tolsten House in an hour.”
The men all nodded.
“We’re still missing a cast iron pot and some salt,” Grady said. “We’ll need it to cook with once we get to camp. I can go look for the items at the market.”
“I’ll go with him,” Drake said. He didn’t want to wait around for an hour with these men.
Winslow nodded reluctantly. “Keep your heads low. We don’t want to draw any attention. Once the princess goes missing, they’ll be looking for outsiders or anything suspicious to build off of.”
Lay low. That was exactly what Drake planned to do.
Myka
Myka tied up Bronze at the fence next to the other horses on the outskirts of Tolsten Square. “I’ll be back before you know it,” she whispered in the horse’s ear. “I need to get more medicine for my dad.”
She turned toward the busy public square. It was the opening morning of the week-long fall market. Vendors from all over Tolsten traveled to the city square to sell their goods. Animals were tied up, waiting to be purchased or traded. Large baskets filled with goods lined the dirt aisles. Men worked at tying canopies over their booths, shading themselves and their products from the warm fall sun. People haggled over prices while others sat lonely at their booths, waiting for someone to be interested in their products.
Myka needed to find Rommel and Joett. She would have to walk row by row until she found where their booth was set up. Halfway through row two, she spotted Joett’s cropped red hair. Rommel’s back was to Myka. He pinned up a cream-colored sheet to the front of their booth, trying to hide the extra bottles of medicines and spices that were stored under the table. He stood back examining his work when Myka ran up behind him, covering his eyes with her hands.
“Guess who!” she said, making the older man jump.
“Sweet Myka? Is that you?” He tried to reach around his back, hitting her on the waist.
She released her hands.
Rommel turned around, smiling so wide Myka could see his molars. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “It’s a good thing it was you. We wouldn’t want Joett to get jealous.”
Myka laughed. Rommel was seventy, and although he was in decent shape, Myka doubted that he had many single women coming after him. But then again, maybe older women were into his bald head and snowy beard.
Joett stood next to the table, rolling her eyes at her husband. “He still thinks he’s got it.”
Rommel straightened his glasses on his nose and walked to his wife. His arm wrapped around her shoulder. “You know better than anyone that I do still got it.”
Joett swiped at her husband’s hand, rolling her eyes again, making Myka laugh.
“Are you here to help us sell?” Joett asked as she lined up bottles of medicine and spices across the table.
Myka’s lips turned into a frown. “Actually, my father isn’t doing well. He has a terrible fever, and we’re out of your medicine. I was hoping to grab some and then I need to head back.”
Joett’s eyes saddened. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry your father isn’t doing well.”
“Thanks.” Myka swallowed back her sadness. She didn’t want to start crying in the middle of the market.
She looked over the bottles on the table, rotating a few vials so she could read the labels. “I don’t think I have any of your father’s medicine here.”
Her heart dropped. She didn’t have a lot of time.
Joett looked at her. “I think I have some in the basket in the back of the wagon. If you’ll watch the booth, we’ll go take a look.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Myka hoped that the medicine was there, otherwise she’d have to travel back to their house to get it.
“You stand there and look pretty,” Rommel said, moving out from the back of the table. “The customers will come just to buy something from you.”
“Sure they will,” Myka said, giving a half-hearted smile.
He waved his hand at her, pulling on Joett’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go look in the wagon.”
She smiled. “I’ll take care of everything here.” Just as long as nobody asked her any actual questions. Myka likely couldn’t tell a tonic from a foot cream if she tried.
Drake
Drake and Grady weaved their way through the thick crowd at the market. People moved up and down the aisles, carrying bags full of goods or tugging on ropes attached to livestock while shouts filtered through the air.
Drake searched the face of every woman that passed him, looking for the princess. He’d never seen the princess and didn’t know what she looked like, but he searched anyway, assuming that she would look like the female version of King Adler.
Grady must’ve been thinking the same thing, because he asked, “Do you think the princess is here?”
“Arco said she’d be here, so I guess she is.” But Drake didn’t see anyone who looked like she could be a princess. Instead, he saw regular women wearing gray working-class dresses.
Grady slowed to a stop in front of a booth selling pots and food. He picked up a small bag of pine nuts labeled, cinnamon, and smelled it. “I love these things.”
Drake’s mouth stretched into a frown as he studied Grady. “You can get those anywhere.”
Grady shook his head, making his chin length brown hair flow back and forth. “Once we leave for the camp, I won’t be able to get them. I’m going to buy some.”
The man behind the booth saw his eagerness and began placing other food items in front of Grady.
“I’d like to look at your cast iron pots,” Grady said to the man. “And do you have salt?”
The seller placed a few different sized pots in front of them. “No salt here.”
“I’ll go down the next aisle and get salt,” Drake said, moving on. “I’ll meet up with you at the inn.”
He didn’t wait for Grady’s answer. He rounded the corner, looking at a booth seven tables wide. A variety of food, spices, herbs, seeds, and treats were lined up across the counters. Behind the tables, dresses, pants, shirts, blankets, and cloaks hung on outstretched clotheslines. The banner on the middle table said, The Tolsten House Shop. He could buy the salt there, but he preferred not to support Tolsten House or the king. He’d rather give his money to someone from the working class.
Drake continued down the aisle, looking at each booth. He stopped in front of one with bottles of medicines and spices, picking up a glass bottle with the word salt scribbled across it in wobbly handwriting.
“How much for the salt?” he asked the worker who
had her back to him.
The girl spun around, and her vibrant blue eyes went wide.
“Mya?” he said, unable to hide his excitement. For the last month, Drake hadn’t been able to get the girl out of his head, and here she was, standing in front of him selling salt. “Is this your booth?”
She looked both ways like she was nervous about something then her eyes glanced back to him. “Do I know you?”
Her words were like a slap to the face. “You don’t remember me?”
She looked down, rearranging the bottles in front of her for no reason at all. “No. I’ve never seen you before.”
Drake raised his eyebrows. “You’ve never seen me?”
She peeked up at him, shaking her head. “Nope.”
He didn’t understand why Mya would pretend that she didn’t know who he was.
“You shot me in the arm about a month ago. How could you forget something like that?”
An indifferent expression fell across her face as she continued to rearrange the products in front of her. “It doesn’t sound familiar.”
Her complete dismissal of him and the time they’d spent together bugged him. Women didn’t usually forget him. “It doesn’t sound familiar?” he repeated.
She stopped with the rearranging and looked up, meeting his gaze. “No. I’m an excellent shot, so me shooting someone in the arm doesn’t sound likely. Unless, of course, it was on purpose.”
Drake’s eyes narrowed in on her as she bit back a smile. He’d been involved in enough interrogations to know the girl was lying to him, but what he couldn’t understand was why she would pretend like they had never met before.
Fine.
Drake could play this game too.
“I guess I must be confusing you with someone else,” he said.
Mya scratched the side of her neck. “Yes, I think so.”
“Yes, some crazy woman who doesn’t know how to handle a gun.”
Her face reddened like she didn’t like his evaluation. “Do you want to buy something?”
Drake tapped the lid of the salt. “Yes, how much for this?”
“The salt is six coins.”
“I’ll give you two coins,” he said, knowing it would make her upset.
Her jaw dropped and a wisp of air escaped. “Two coins? That’s ridiculous!”
Drake gestured down the aisle to the Tolsten House Shop. “They’re selling a bigger bottle of salt down there for four coins.”
She leaned forward, looking down at the large booth. “No, they’re not.”
“Yes, they are.” He set the salt down and began tapping the tops of every bottle in that row. “They have parsley flakes for three coins, garlic for two coins, pepper rub for four, cumin for—”
“There is no way you have all of their prices memorized,” she said as she swiped his hand away from the bottles.
“I do have all their prices memorized.” He began tapping the tops of the bottles again.
“No, you don’t.”
She hit his hand away but he forced it back. “I do.”
“You don’t!”
He gestured across the products one last time. “All around they have better prices than you.”
She pursed her pink lips together, and Drake wondered how they were so pink. Was it makeup, or was it natural?
Her blue eyes tightened. “Well, of course their prices are the cheapest. They’re the biggest booth in the market. Everything they’re selling is from Tolsten House, but our products are of better quality.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said flatly, irritating her even more.
She scoffed. “I’m telling the truth. Our products are better.”
Drake shrugged, pulling her pink scarf out of his pocket. He dabbed his forehead, using it to wipe away sweat that wasn’t there, then he whistled. “I’m surprised by how warm it’s been this fall.”
Mya’s eyes went wide again as she recognized the pink hair tie. “That’s mine,” she said, reaching for the scarf, but Drake snatched his arm away.
“No, I don’t think so,” he said, holding his arm up. “This scarf belongs to the woman who shot me, and you said that wasn’t you.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Fine, Drake. It was me. I shot you.”
He gave her a satisfied smile. “I already knew that, Mya.”
She held her hand out to him. “Now that your arm is healed, can I have my scarf back?”
“Sure.” Drake held his arm up above him. “All you have to do is grab it and it’s yours.” He was counting on his height advantage to come through for him.
Mya huffed, walking around the booth to his side. She glanced up at the scarf in his hand then back at him. He gave her a come-and-get-it smile, which only made her glare at him more.
She went on her tippy-toes, reaching her arms up, but she wasn’t even close to tall enough. She stepped closer still trying to reach the scarf, while also keeping her chest as far away from his as she could.
Drake leaned his head down, whispering against her cheek. “What seems to be the problem?”
She lifted her chin, putting her impossibly pink lips closer to his. Her hardened eyes flashed to his. “You know what the problem is.”
A slow smile crept across his mouth. He liked this Mya girl, and he wished she wasn’t purposely putting so much distance between them. Normally, girls did whatever they could to get closer to him.
When she couldn’t reach it, she dropped from her toes and stepped back, her expression indignant. “So just the salt then?”
Myka
How had Myka managed to run into Drake again? She wanted to be excited about seeing the extremely handsome man another time, but her role as the princess made her excitement impossible. It was one thing to sneak out of Tolsten House when no one knew who she was, but it was an entirely different thing to be recognized by someone twice. That’s why she had pretended not to know him, but he couldn’t be fooled. Thank goodness Drake didn’t know she was the princess.
“Yes, I’ll take the salt, and do you have any of that toe fungus cream you mentioned last time?” His brown eyes danced with amusement. “I’m asking for a friend, of course.”
She gave him a tight smile. “I’m afraid we’re all out. But I can offer you the hemorrhoid medicine.”
He smiled wide. “Not necessary.”
She held out her hand. “That will be seven coins.”
“I thought you said the salt was six coins.”
Myka inclined her head. “You’re paying extra because you won’t give my hair tie back.”
“Okay.” He smiled, pulling out seven coins and slapping them on the table.
She handed him the salt. “Thanks for shopping with us. See you next time.”
“Next time,” Drake said. “That’s an excellent idea. I knew you liked me. Where can I meet you next time?”
Myka scoffed. “That’s not what I meant. I hope to never see you again.” That wasn’t true. Myka would love to see Drake again, but it wasn’t possible. She was the princess. It’s not like she could ride off into the sunset with him.
He eyed her. Then he turned around and jumped up onto the end of the table using it as a seat. The medicine bottles jostled under his weight, threatening to tip over.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He glanced over his shoulder with a swaggering smile. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“I don’t know,” she snapped. “That’s why I asked.”
“If you won’t agree to see me again, then I guess I will just have to hang out here.” He picked up the red medicine and held it out in front of him, talking to a group of women walking past the booth. “Can I interest you ladies in any hemorrhoid medicine?”
The women gave Drake a disgusted look and rushed off.
Myka walked around to the front of the booth. “You’re not staying. You’re scaring off the customers.”
“No, I think it is the hemorrhoid medicine that is
scaring them off.”
“Leave!” she demanded.
“I will if you agree to meet me again.” His eyes challenged her.
She sucked in a deep breath. She could say that she would meet him again to get Drake to leave and then not show up. Or Myka could be completely irresponsible and actually meet him again. If she was going to have clandestine meetings with a man, someone like Drake was probably a good choice—someone who didn’t want a lasting relationship.
“Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll meet you again.”
His smile widened to an adorable degree, and he hopped off the table. “Good. How about next month when I pass through here again?”
Next month was perfect since she only went out of Tolsten House once a month.
“Sure,” she shrugged. “Meet me in the forest west of Rommel’s house. I’ll be there on the sixteenth, same as always.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Drake said, nodding.
“Sorry, that took so long,” Joett said behind them as she slid around the table, carrying the box of oils. Her eyes drifted to Drake and she smiled in her big way. “Can we help you, sir?”
“Wait,” Myka looked between the two of them. “Don’t you know him?”
Drake shook his head.
“This is Rommel’s wife. I thought you said you guys were friends.”
He reached his hand out to Joett. “I only know Rommel. I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting his wife. I’m Drake Vestry. It’s nice to meet you.”
Joett licked her lips nervously as she took Drake’s hand. “Drake. Yes, I’ve heard of you.” She glanced around fidgeting with the skirt of her dress. “Uh, Rommel isn’t here. He stopped on the way to talk to a friend.”
Myka’s brows bent in confusion. Why was Joett acting so weird?
“That’s okay. I’m not here to see Rommel,” Drake said, smiling at Myka.
Joett looked at them both. “Uh…this is our…a…granddaughter...” her eyes were wide as she glanced at Myka as if she didn’t know what name to call her by “…Mildred?”
The Stolen Princess: A YA Dystopian Romance (Desolation Book 3) Page 7