by Jody Hedlund
“What’s going on?” said a gruff voice from a few paces away.
Mikkel abruptly ended the kiss but continued to recline against me, his elbows resting nonchalantly against the wall though his muscles tensed. “I think it’s obvious what’s going on, don’t you?” He attempted a note of humor before he leaned in, touching his lips to mine once more.
Although Mikkel was pretending at kissing me, the sensation was unlike anything I’d ever known, and I didn’t need to feign an interest in reciprocating. I rose up again, this time eagerly. And I pressed into him more thoroughly, kissing him back with as much fervor as he’d kissed me.
“Take it inside.” The soldier’s gruff voice was also laced with mirth.
“Excellent idea.” Mikkel broke away for an instant before I chased his lips and found them, giving him no choice but to kiss me again.
The soldier snorted a laugh before he moved out of the alley, his footsteps retreating to wherever he’d been before we’d made him aware of our presence.
I didn’t care about the soldier, didn’t care about our rescue mission, didn’t care about the peril hovering around every corner. All I could think about was Mikkel kissing me and that I didn’t want him to stop.
His lips and his touch had unearthed in me a wellspring of emotions I couldn’t begin to name, so when he broke the kiss, I clutched his tunic and held him in place. My movement must have given him some kind of permission to continue, because he seized my mouth again with a fervor that sent tingles over my skin and down my backbone.
As though forcing himself, he broke away and leaned his head against the wall so our cheeks brushed. “We have to go,” he whispered breathlessly. “Before he comes back and asks more questions.”
I nodded, too overwhelmed to say anything. Who could have guessed that kissing Mikkel would be like this? My legs shook beneath me, hardly able to hold me up. And as I released his garment, my fingers trembled.
In spite of his admonition to be on our way, he didn’t make an effort to move. Instead, his presence surrounded me. His scruffy cheek pressed to mine, and his ragged breathing filled my ear, sending more tremors through me.
“Pearl.” His voice filled with something I could only describe as wanting. Was it possible these kisses hadn’t been pretend for him either? Was it possible he was feeling the same desire for me that I was for him?
My heartbeat tapped out an uncertain rhythm. What did this mean for our relationship? And where did we go from here?
“Pearl.” This time he pulled slightly away. “You must—you need to—”
I waited for him to tell me what to do next. He obviously had more practice at relationships than I did and would know how to proceed.
“You have to put your veil back on,” he finished.
I stiffened. “Why?”
“It’s just better that way.”
Better for whom? For him? So he didn’t have to chance seeing my so-called blemish? I pushed him away and, at the same time, tugged up the veil.
“Don’t be upset,” he whispered. “If the guards see your flaws, they’ll know who we are and that we’ve come for the women.”
“Or maybe you have no wish to see who I really am because you fear you will not like how I look.” The hurt welling up inside pushed me to taunt and test him. Was he so shallow he couldn’t abide seeing my face? If that was the case, I would keep myself hidden from him.
“That’s not it.” But the hint of uncertainty in his voice told me he was indeed afraid of finally seeing the real woman he’d married.
I shoved his chest, forcing him to take a step back. Then I turned away from him as I tied the veil into place.
Behind me, he released an exasperated breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have allowed us to get so carried away—”
“I was only pretending, as you asked of me.” I spun around and glared at him, his rejection stinging. “You need not flatter yourself into thinking I liked kissing you.” I had more than liked it. I’d adored it. But I couldn’t allow him to think so and pity me.
Any response he might have had ready, he let fade to silence.
I cinched the veil strings, putting the barrier back between us where it belonged. Disappointment wedged there too. Always before, I’d had to wonder if the men at court could see beyond my beauty and royalty and appreciate my other qualities. And now I faced the same problem, only slightly different. Could men—particularly Mikkel—see beyond my veil and perceived ugliness to like me for who I was on the inside?
The truth was, I didn’t want to be loved for what I looked like for either the good or the bad. I wanted to be loved for who I was. Was that too much to ask?
Chapter
13
Mikkel
I turned away from Pearl to allow her to finish tying her veil into place. All the while, my pulse slammed hard through my veins with a sizzling heat.
What had just happened between us?
At the sight of the guard, I’d panicked and taken the first excuse that came to mind—the only one I could think of for why a man and woman would be out so early in the morn together: that we were helplessly in love with each other.
I’d thought pretending at kissing would prove our ruse. But all it proved was how little self-control I had.
I pressed my palm against my forehead and closed my eyes, attempting to slow my racing thoughts even if I couldn’t slow my pulse. But my mind had a will of its own and relived the kisses again, especially the taut grip of her fingers against my tunic as she’d held me—almost as if she’d wanted me in that moment as much as I had her.
Almost.
I’d endeavored to pretend, but the moment my mouth had met hers, I’d lost all reason. It had been an explosive union, one that had set me on fire and nearly made me forget where we were and the danger lurking so near.
“’Tis back in place,” she whispered. “You need not worry that I shall scare you.”
“I wasn’t worried about that.” Frustration coursed through me, aimed more at myself than at her. For amidst her accusation, I feared a hint of truth lingered, that I was placing too much emphasis on her appearance. Had I been doing so with all the outcasts?
Look on the heart. I’d believed the purpose of my Testing was to analyze the behaviors and motivations of the people I met. And maybe that was part of it. But perhaps I needed to reevaluate what I was doing, see beyond the exterior and evaluate the worth of a person’s character more than anything else.
Could I do that with Pearl? Place more importance on her character than her blemish?
I swiveled back to her. She was halfway down the alley, racing back the way we’d come. “Wait.”
She didn’t halt or even slow down. Instead she reached the end building, hopped up onto a barrel, leapt for the projecting beam of the second floor, and then hefted herself up until she gripped a windowsill. Before I could make it to the barrel, she was already standing on the sill and reaching for the overhanging roof. She grabbed on to one of the rafters and swung herself until she looped a leg onto the slate tiles.
She made the climb look so effortless, and perhaps it was for a nimble woman of her size. However, I struggled to follow the trail she’d made. By the time I reached the roof, she was lying on her stomach, peering over the top to the other side of the businesses.
“What do you see?” I whispered, as I crawled up next to her as quietly as I could manage. The last thing we needed was for anyone sleeping in the dormer room below us to hear our pattering around and come outside to investigate.
“The women are here.” Her response was quiet, resigned.
I lifted my head cautiously so I could see over to the town green.
“They are bound in the stocks.”
The moonlight illuminated the open area enough to see three planks, bare feet and ankles poking through the crude holes, locking the women in place. Though the stocks rested on the ground and allowed the women to sit with their legs outstretched, the angle was su
ch that no amount of shifting in position would allow even an ounce of comfort.
With heads bowed and shoulders slumped, the three appeared to be resting to some degree. And from what I could assess, they hadn’t been harmed, at least not severely.
Felicity’s white hair was the most obvious, in the middle. One of the other women, who went by the nickname Rose, had a rose-colored splotch on half her face. The older woman everyone called Joan was deaf and mute. The three spent most of their time preparing meals and keeping the camp in order, unlike Pearl, who went everywhere with the men.
“I see half a dozen of the Inquisitor’s guards.” Pearl leaned in, her face near mine. “One on nearly every corner.”
I counted the well-armed guards, including the one who had witnessed our kisses. “The Inquisitor has placed the women in the town green specifically to draw us out into the open to trap us. We won’t be able to get near the women, not without eliciting the attention of the guards.”
Pearl ducked her head down. “Then we shall have to fight them in order to free the women. With only six of them to our six, the clash should be evenly matched.”
I shifted out of sight as well. “No doubt these soldiers are seasoned, skillful, and have superior weapons. We would have a difficult fight ahead.”
“I am ready for the challenge.”
“Rushing out there would bring death to us all.”
“You have no faith in our abilities?”
“I have every faith the Inquisitor has more soldiers nearby who would join their comrades at a moment’s notice, quickly outnumbering us.”
Lying flat and propped up by her elbows, she was a hand’s span away, staring straight ahead at the roof tiles, her forehead wrinkled. “What shall we do?”
“We shall meet Irontooth and the others at the arranged spot and then come up with a plan.” Still, I sensed the futility of the mission. How would we liberate the women without putting everyone else in jeopardy?
“You do not believe we can rescue them, do you?”
I hesitated. I believed in honesty, even when the truth was difficult to abide. But I wanted to reassure Pearl everything would work out so she didn’t charge forward recklessly and end up in the stocks next to the others.
She released a frustrated huff from behind her veil and started to slither backward.
I slipped an arm around her waist, halting her progress.
“Whether you realize it or not, you’re the leader of this expedition.” Her whisper was low and fierce. “And as the leader, if you have no hope, you will convey your hopelessness to the others. Then we shall surely fail.”
Her words gave me pause. Somehow I had ended up the leader. As such, I needed to guide by example. “You’re right. I must put aside my fears and find hope.”
The tension eased from her body.
I tucked her head under my chin and closed my eyes. We lay side by side, neither of us speaking. “Thank you for saying what I needed to hear,” I whispered. “And I am heartily sorry for my insensitivity regarding your veil after our kiss. I hurt you, and I regret it.”
She nodded, making no move to pull away.
We rested that way for a few more moments before she leaned back enough that I could see her eyes. “In watching you these past weeks, I have seen that you will make a good and wise king. Your father and his advisors would be foolish not to choose you.”
“Thank you, Pearl.” I marveled at how she had a way of encouraging me like no one else had ever been able to do. A part of me wished we could go on lying on the roof whispering to each other. I liked spending time with her, especially moments like this when we understood each other.
But the night was slipping away, and we had a mission to accomplish. We needed to find a way to rescue the women from their stocks without anyone else getting captured or killed.
Wordlessly, I released her and began the climb back down. She followed, and though she didn’t need my aid, I waited and assisted her as much as she would let me. When she finally stood next to me in the alley, I reached for her hand, wrapped my fingers around hers, then started to the ash pit on the outskirts of town where we’d arranged to meet the others.
She didn’t release my hand, and somehow, even the small connection was all I could think about as we traveled. Next time we went somewhere, I needed to keep Gregor close by, since I was too distracted. And distraction could oft be dangerous.
As we neared the ash pit, the scent of garbage and waste grew so putrid I had to breathe through my mouth to keep from gagging. I understood now why Irontooth had arranged for our meeting in this location. It was deserted and the perfect place to avoid detection.
I tugged Pearl down behind a barrel overflowing with trash and searched for signs of the others. But everything was eerily silent and still.
Next to me, Pearl gasped and tugged her hand free of my grip. She groped after a sheet of parchment on the ground. When she picked it up, her fingers trembled.
“What is it?” I asked.
She handed it to me. There, in calligraphy, were the words: “A large reward shall be given to the person who finds Princess Pearl of Warwick. Wanted for the high crime of treason.”
Even through the darkness of the early morning hour, the words were dark and bold. I lifted the parchment higher into the moonlight to read the smaller paragraph underneath.
“Her Royal Highness, Queen Margery of Warwick, has issued a reward to anyone who can deliver the princess to her alive. Once believed dead, the princess is known to have run away and is hereby charged with conspiracy along with her sister, Princess Ruby, in attempting to overthrow the throne.”
Pearl’s hand shook as she took the sheet away from me and scanned it again. “My mother knows I am alive.”
“You guessed that might be a possibility, did you not?”
“Yes, but why is she charging me with treason?”
The queen was clearly searching hard if she had notices posted all the way in Norland.
“Why now? After all this time?” Pearl’s whisper was threaded with both fear and frustration. “And why is she involving Ruby?”
“Perhaps this notice is old.”
Pearl pointed to a small set of numerals at the end. “’Twas penned right after Midsummer’s Eve and likely sent out by couriers to the far corners of the Great Isle.”
Midsummer’s Eve was over a month ago. “Maybe she recently discovered you didn’t die in the hunting accident.”
“’Tis possible. But why threaten Ruby? She is too young and too innocent to be of use to the queen.”
I could come up with only one reason why. “The logical explanation is that the queen intends to use your sister to lure you back to Warwick.”
Pearl dropped the sheet and then bent over and buried her face in her hands. She released a soft groan that ended on a sob.
I placed a hand on her back, wanting to comfort her but unsure how. Ruby meant everything to her, was important enough that Pearl had agreed to marry me in order to save her sister and give her a new home.
Before I could figure out what to say, Pearl rose to her feet, her eyes flashing with determination. “I need to leave now and go after her.”
She started to stalk away, but I lunged for her. Pearl couldn’t just leave for Warwick. Such notices were likely posted in every town and hamlet from here to Warwick. People would be eager to find the princess and turn her over to the queen so they could claim the reward.
Anyone could piece together the truth and betray her. Pearl wouldn’t be safe anywhere. Not even on the Isle of Outcasts.
Even as she struggled against me, I pinned her arms to her side. After experiencing her fighting skills firsthand and watching her train, I anticipated her elbow jab and the ensuing flip. I blocked her and twisted her arm behind her back to subdue her. Of course, I didn’t twist hard, just enough to keep her from moving.
“Release me at once,” she hissed.
“You cannot run off by yourself,” I whispered
from behind her. “You will rush right into the queen’s hands, which is exactly what she wants. And if she captures you, how will you rescue Ruby then?”
Pearl held herself rigid for another moment before she sagged into me. She pressed her hands against her veil and mouth but couldn’t muffle her cry of despair. I cupped my hand over hers to aid in stifling the sound. I wrapped my other arm around her and leaned in so my mouth brushed against her ear. “Shh . . . we’ll figure out what to do. I promise.”
Even as I spoke, my mind scrambled to come up with a viable plan, one that would keep Pearl out of the queen’s clutches. If the woman had attempted to kill her daughter once before, what was to keep her from trying again?
My gut churned at the prospect. I didn’t want Pearl to get anywhere near Queen Margery. And yet, I couldn’t stop her from helping Ruby. She’d go whether or not I wanted her to.
Ultimately, we needed to gain access to Ruby without putting either of us in jeopardy. Perhaps wielding my royalty as a weapon was the only way. I would have to go with Pearl and lend her my protection as her husband and as a prince of Scania.
But doing so would mean having to leave the Isle of Outcasts and my Testing. Could I really withdraw from the challenge and forfeit my chance at becoming king? After all, the reason I’d married Pearl was so I wouldn’t have to stop and go home in disgrace.
Shaking my head with mounting frustration, I glanced around the ash pit as if I could somehow find the answers there. But the desolate place contained nothing but the rotting mounds of garbage along with the incinerating ovens and the ash heaps next to them.
Would my hopes and dreams turn to ashes? Or could I continue my Testing somehow? Was it possible that, if I left with Pearl and helped recover Ruby, I could return to the island afterward? The rules stated that if we princes needed to leave our locations for any reason, we could go back and finish to the best of our ability.
“I shall travel with you,” I whispered. “And when we get there, I’ll negotiate for Ruby’s release.”