by Wyatt, Dani
Her graying hair was pinned together in elaborate braids, and she wore fresh buds of the Rose of Beatrice gathered into her locks. It was Queen Beatrice herself, I was sure of it, it could be nobody else.
In her eyes, I found neither comfort nor warmth.
“Are you sure it is her?” she asked Bardo.
“That’s the stolen princess, my Queen.”
“Guard,” she snapped. “Come here.”
From behind the door came the guard who had slit his companion’s throat. “Yes, my queen?”
“Who knows she’s here?”
“I don’t think anyone except—”
“I didn’t ask what you think, I asked who knows.”
“Only your own guards, m’lady. I killed the captain. He’s the only one that might have spoken out of turn—”
“Only my guards? Are you certain? Can you be sure nobody else saw you bring her here?”
He hesitated, then lowered his eyes. “No, my queen.”
She huffed, as if this was all too much trouble. “If she’s seen, that will be the end for us all, do you understand that? You should have killed her on sight, and fed her body to the hogs, you incompetent little inbred.”
“But your men, my queen…your captain…he would have killed me for…” He gulped as he stared at her face, and his hand went to his sword. “I’ll do it right away—”
“You’ll do no such thing! Others may be searching for her already. The last thing we need is to be caught here with a body. Bring her to my private quarters, make sure you aren’t noticed and cover her up. Make her look like some peasant… Shouldn’t be hard. We’ll deal with her there.” She turned to leave. “And for God’s sake clean up this mess outside the door.”
“Y—yes, my queen.” In a single stride, he was standing in front of me, roughly grabbing my wrists before he gagged me with a knotted rope. And as the black hangman’s hood went over my head, I was plunged into darkness.
Bors
I already had a splitting headache by the time I entered the city, many hours later than I had intended when I had Sara with me.
I’d woken in the animal trap covered in sticks, leaves and the huge branch that had given me a large knot on my hard head. At first, my memory of what had happened was grainy, but as I climbed from the hole on the large branch, then walked back toward our camp, and saw the bodies, it all came flooding back.
Sara. She’d been taken.
Checking the bodies, I found that I had been right about who they were. Queen’s Guards, excellently trained and rarely surprised. I’d been lucky to take out as many as I had. But the last man I’d killed, the one that had stepped away from the group as they retreated, wasn’t one of them.
It was with a certain amount of satisfaction that I recognized the same Clan Johnston captain that had tried to rape Sara. At least I’d now paid them all back for their transgression.
But that raised fresh problems. If he was here, it meant that Clan Johnston were indeed trying to capture Sara and use her to implicate the Mackays in her disappearance. Did they already have the ear of the king? Were their forces moving on Mackay land right now?
I couldn’t afford to think about that. All I could do was push ahead and go after my princess.
My love.
My purpose.
The city should have been bustling with the news, so it was with some surprise that I found it quiet as I entered in the late afternoon. There was no whispering, no groups of folk tittering and speculating about the found princess. There were no town criers shouting the announcement, no dancing in the streets, no banners waving.
I had a sinking feeling as I wandered up the main street, heading toward the castle, then spotted three of the King’s Guard entering a tavern and followed them inside. I bought myself a pint at the bar, then took a seat at a table near theirs, hoping to hear something of what was going on.
They talked of soldiering and horses, of new swords and changes in the staffing of the guard. But they didn’t utter a word about Sara, not even in veiled terms.
Things were too normal, which told me something was definitely amiss.
I waited for them to finish one round and then another, so that the drink would help loosen their tongues, then I ordered another round for them and one for myself and made my approach. When the round of strong ale arrived at their table, they nodded their gratitude and I raised my mug to them in return.
“Any word about the stolen princess?” I asked.
The captain scoffed. “Stolen princess. That’s a phrase I haven’t heard uttered in a while, friend.”
His comrades laughed.
I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “I heard she was found.”
“Well I didn’t, and I think I would, don’t you? Rumors like that crop up every few years. Pay it no mind.” He rose, slightly woozy with drink, and told the other guards he was going to take a piss.
I held my tongue as I watched him leave, then turned my focus to the foot soldiers who might be more likely to speak without their captain nearby.
“That was the news I heard, just this morning. People say she’s the right age. Has the birthmark even.”
Their reactions were just the same as their captain’s. They didn’t seem to know that Sara had been returned, or to care about the news.
“The child is dead, sir,” said the younger guard of the two. “Mark my words. Been dead for eighteen years. May she rest in peace.”
I rose and straightened myself out, breathing deep as if to sober myself up. Then I stepped out into the now chilly evening, passing the captain with another nod as he returned.
Outside, the streets were quiet. The night soil men were beginning their rounds, the women of pleasure were starting up their evening trade, but there was no sign of celebration.
Something was wrong, I was sure of it.
If news of Sara wasn’t everywhere by now, it meant someone was keeping her a secret. It meant King Rowan didn’t know she had returned. My insides spun and twisted at the thought.
I had to find her. There was no time to waste.
Sara
When my hood was removed, I was in a set of rooms that were as luxurious as they were frigid. I looked out the window and saw there was no glass in the window frames, which were covered with lattice wound through with dry vines.
From the paintings on the walls, showing blooming summer flowers and sunshine in the fields, I gathered I was probably in the queen’s summer quarters, far away from curious ears and eyes at this time of year.
The queen sat across the room from me, with a goblet of wine in hand. Next to her at the table sat Bardo, looking pale and as if he wished he were somewhere else.
“I told you, my queen, that she was the true stolen princess.”
“And why, pray tell, was she not turned into pig feed eighteen years ago?” The queen glared at him over her goblet. “I haven’t been paying you to keep her hidden all these years, you stupid man. I’ve been paying for your silence, but now here she is. My biggest problem in the flesh. Alive and well and….” She now turned her gaze towards me. “…unacceptably beautiful. At the very least you could have disfigured her. Made her unrecognizable. Carved out that God-awful birthmark.”
“My queen,” whimpered Bardo. “I have faithfully discharged all of your orders. She was lodged with a good man from the town where I grew up. He knows to keep his tongue, it all ran like clockwork. It was never clear to me that you wanted her dead.”
Queen Beatrice rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Do I have to tell you to relieve yourself each morning, you fool? What sort of idiot thinks I’d have wanted her alive? I paid you to do away with her. And I didn’t mean hide her.”
Bardo babbled away, but as the Queen approached me, his whimpers of protest grew too quiet for me to notice.
For a long moment, she stood before me, looking at me with disgust. I could smell the sourness coming off of her, laced between the scent of the flowers in her hair.
Then she took hold of my face, turning my cheeks this way and that. With her thumb she drew down my eyelids, as if examining me for disease. Her fingertips were ice cold and I fought the shiver that her touch drew from me, not wanting her to see anything but defiance in me.
Her lips twisted in disgust. “She looks like her mother. One glance at the little slut and her father would know the truth in an instant. Thank God for all those other imposters, making the old fool less likely to ask questions if word should get out.”
“My queen—”
“Why?” The word fell from my lips unbidden, and I instantly regretted it.
The cruel smile that spread on her face told me that no good would come of my question. If I thought appealing to her better nature might save my life, I would be disappointed.
She had none.
“Why? Why? Because I could, you little slut. Because it was the only way to secure my own future. You think I care about your blubbering or your questions? Do you know how many children my own mother had? Thirteen. Thirteen. All of whom survived into adulthood, the wretches.”
Her nose twitched in disgust, as if there was a bad smell, as she traced a thumb over my face. It could have been a kind, motherly gesture, but it wasn’t. She was comparing my face to her own, and found me lacking.
“I was the youngest daughter, and apparently not the prettiest in men’s eyes, though my sisters were all fat and ugly. My mother and father ignored me, I was never to get a good marriage.” She laughed. “Showed them, didn’t I?” The words were uncharacteristically off-cuff, her voice slipping into something of an accent, but she recovered quickly, drawing a sharp breath through her nose.
“Your mother’s death was not my doing,” she said, though I doubted it was intended to give me comfort. “I was her lady in waiting, sold into her servitude, so to speak, and expected to grieve, but I saw opportunity! Oh, your father loved her, even I could see that. He fed her up like cattle and put a baby inside her within an hour of marriage. But grief, now that was something I could use!”
“My queen, we need to hurry—”
“You’ll hold your tongue if you know what’s good for you!” she snapped, her words little more than a hiss. When she met my eyes, I saw pride in hers. “The king would fall into the nearest warm bed if only he didn’t have a daughter to distract him. A little drink, a few kind words, a tight, warm, willing cunt to bury himself in and he’d be mine. It wasn’t difficult. Men are predictable. But for any of it to work you had to go.”
“But—” I shrank back at the way her eyes narrowed. I turned my eyes down and they lingered on her belly.
The queen laughed. “Children? Me? Absolutely not. Ruining my figure and needing all that…attention. Yuck. Not that your father didn’t try, at least in the early days after our marriage. It’s amazing what you can do if you know the right herbs, however. Poisons to some but I’ve built a tolerance. I deal with my problems like a woman, my dear, head on and without remorse. Speaking of which.”
She turned her back on me and approached Bardo once again. He fell silent at once and swallowed so hard and so painfully that I heard the gulp from across the room.
“Who else knows about her existence?”
“Besides your guards, only the man I placed her with, and his wife. That’s all, I swear it. My queen, if you’ll just allow me to—”
“I suppose I have no choice but to believe your word on that. My guards will deal with them at once. As for you, you dirty little toad, you have been my extortionist for long enough,” the queen said to him. “But that time is over. The secret has been revealed and your value to me is gone.” With a snap of her fingers, she turned away and two of her guards seized him.
Poor Bardo didn’t stand a chance, and the guards left him in a garroted, dead heap in a matter of seconds.
For a long moment, it was as if time stood still. Until the queen turned to me, looked me in the eye… and snapped again.
The guards came for me this time, like wolves going in for the kill. Though I was bound and gagged, I squirmed from my chair and wriggled desperately across the floor. I tried to keep my throat and neck shielded, for they seemed fond of slitting throats and I would not allow them to have easy access to mine.
I screamed against my rope gag and kicked them hard. I felt my feet connect with a stomach, a jaw, perhaps even a groin, and they fell back.
For a moment, I was left alone on the floor, while they regrouped.
“Of course, she’d be a fighter,” said the queen, exasperated and impatient. She downed her wine and rose from the table. “Find me when it’s finished, but do it right this time. If anyone finds her body, I will make sure they find yours next.”
With that, she turned, leaving me alone with the guards. I screamed with all my might, but it came out as little more than a mumble through the gag, and I was met with a punch that sent my ears to ringing and silenced my cries.
The guard that had hit me placed his foot on my chest and glared down at me, placing a finger to his lips, shushing me.
I stared up at him with my chest heaving, trying desperately to catch my breath, confused about why he wasn’t finishing the job. Though I could not grasp the full scale of what was going on with the queen and her plans for me, it was clear that the guard wanted to give the impression, at least, that he had done away with me as the queen had asked, and the realization dawned slowly: he was an ally.
Had Bors sent him, somehow, to rescue me? Or was he loyal to King Rowan and ready to save my life? The punch he’d delivered had been hard, but then it would have to be if he was trying to make out that I was dead.
“It’s over,” he said over his shoulder. “Must have caught her just right.”
There was a moment of hesitation. “We’ll take the body to the south entrance, dump her in the sea.”
“I’ll do it. You get back to the watch. Last thing we need is anyone starting to ask where we are. Besides, her body is still warm...”
My stomach clenched, wondering if his intent was really to use my body before he did away with me.
“But, the queen said—”
“Do you really think I’m going to make a mistake with this? Queen Beatrice would have my head. No, leave it with me. Trust me, nobody will find the body when I’m done. I’ve never had a princess before but you need to go. I won’t have you here to watch.” He growled at the smaller, more tentative guard and I held my breath.
I tried to keep still as the moments passed, then heard the door shut, and the guard helped me to my feet, guiding me to the very chair where the queen had been sitting.
“Thank you,” I said as he unfastened my gag, my hands trembling as I searched his face for any sign of who he might be. I was barely able to trust that he wasn’t trying to poison me as he poured me a glass of water, then a goblet of wine, removed my bindings and motioned for me to drink.
“You must be thirsty,” he said, and I was sure I detected a kindness in his words.
But as I drank, he caressed my hair, then my cheek, and my collarbone, in such a way that I knew exactly what he wanted. There could be no mistake.
I’ve never had a princess before.
What the hell was it with the soldiers and guards that gave them license to take a woman against her will? I’ve had enough of this shit.
“I’ve always wondered what’s so special about royal women,” he said. There was something unnerving about the way he spoke, the hush of his voice, the feel of his touch on my skin. “I’ve always had a theory that royal pussy is especially tight.” He twirled my hair around his finger as I turned my face away. “I suppose you wouldn’t know. So I’ll have to investigate for myself. I’ve always wanted to fuck a royal…”
“Please,” I begged, searching for anything nearby that I could use to defend myself. I used the begging as a distraction.
“Cooperate with me, behave like a good little bitch, and I’ll kill you quick when it’s over.” Now he slid his dirty hand d
own my chest, toward the hollow between my breasts. “But fight me, and I promise that you’ll die in agony.”
Agony or no, the thought of his hands on me sent my blood pumping in a fury. I shoved him away from me.
“I belong to only one man,” I snarled. “And he will kill you, mark my words. Unless I do it first…”
He seized me by the hair, and I shrieked with pain and anger. Then he pushed me down on the table and tried to pull my skirt up while also shoving down his britches. But I had not spent the last eighteen years doing needlepoint while wearing too-small corsets; I was strong and I knew it.
And so, with every ounce of strength I had, I fought him. I kicked him and bit him and dug my fingers into his eyes. If he was going to fuck me, it would be my dead body he took, because I was done being scared.
Everything and anything I could do to defend myself, I did. We battled across the room and I finally got the upper hand, shoving his head through one of the wooden lattice screens.
The window was narrow and the broken lattice was sharp and uncomfortable around his head, but I knew it wouldn’t hold him for long.
And so, without one more instant of hesitation, I grabbed his dagger from the sheath on his calf and drove it sideways into his neck, screaming this time not in fear, but in victory. A sickening gurgle was his last living sound as I threw my hair back, stood straight and gave him a swift kick in his ass.
Bors
I hustled up the wide, cobblestone street that led to the front of the castle, steeling myself for any trouble that might come my way. Above me, I heard a commotion and looked up, drawing my knife.
I was not prepared for what happened next. A man’s head protruded from a window above, sunlight showing his angry grimace.
He hollered and tried to work himself free from the narrow opening but before he got the chance, he let out a scream, then his head dropped and I knew he was dead.
