by Jody Hedlund
“The princess promises to be on her best behavior from now on,” the commander said. “Do you not, Your Highness?”
Your Highness? No one had ever called me that.
Before I could contradict him, he lowered me to the ground. He held my arm and steadied my awkward balance caused by the binding around my feet. Keeping a firm grip on my elbow, he turned to the priest. “Shall we get on with the wedding with all haste?”
“Right now?” My voice came out a squeak.
“Immediately.” The commander didn’t look at me but rather motioned at his men, who at once abandoned their packs and horses and began to congregate around us.
As though sensing my fear and revulsion, the prince’s lips curled in a slight smile, one that made his eyes glint again. The expression told me I was in for a life of pain and discord if I went through with marrying him. Panic bubbled in my stomach, churning acid. I had to get away. Now.
Darting a glance around the woodland and then the camp, I noticed a knife two dozen paces away, discarded among several other tools. If I could get to it and slit the binding from my feet, I’d take to the trees.
As if sensing my mounting panic, the commander’s fingers tightened and drew me closer to his side.
“There’s no hurry to have the wedding now.” I jerked my arm to free myself. “We can wait until we arrive at Delsworth and have a proper wedding there.”
The priest opened his prayer book.
“The king will want to be involved and witness—”
“The king was the one to suggest the wedding take place immediately after locating you,” the commander said, “which is why Father Patrick is with us.”
I gave one last futile yank of my arm, knowing even if I managed to free myself from the captain’s hold, I wouldn’t be able to get far. Not with so many soldiers surrounding me. “As I said before,” I hissed to the commander, “you cannot make me state my vows.”
“If you do not,” he growled, “I shall send out my fastest men and command them to return with Lance and Felicia.”
“They will be gone by now.”
“Not yet. I made sure of it.”
He was right. It was much too soon for my father to have freed himself.
The commander’s gaze flicked to a man who remained in the shadows at the periphery of the camp. Naked but for his braies, he was tied to a tree with his back exposed, revealing festering blisters and welts. His condition left me no doubt he’d been tortured, and I guessed it was on account of me. Perhaps he was the one whose footprints I’d found earlier in the day.
If the commander could bestow such torment on this man, what might he do to my parents if he caught them again?
I swallowed the rising bile.
“Are we all gathered?” The priest glanced around the half circle behind him before looking at the commander, who gave a curt nod. The priest held up his book, cleared his throat, and began. “In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.”
I closed my eyes as if by doing so I could block out the nightmare in which I found myself. But the burning in my stomach kept me all too awake to the fact that I was trapped with no way out.
Chapter
6
Rex
I held myself rigidly and clenched my jaw to keep from commanding Father Patrick to cease the wedding ceremony. I had no wish to start my marriage under such adverse circumstances, forcing the princess to comply by threatening to torture her parents. I would have preferred to wait, to show her the life that would soon be hers, to give her all the luxuries she’d never had, and to allow her to become comfortable with me.
But I had no choice. Whether I liked the conditions or not, I’d marry her as the king had commanded. I understood the urgency—that I had to secure our future together straightaway. Too much was at stake, especially with the queen’s army on the move.
As before, I tugged Emmeline closer to my side. In the torchlight, her delicate features were taut with anguish, and her eyes pinched shut.
A strange sense of self-loathing invaded me. In all these weeks, I’d never once thought about how the princess would feel being snatched from her home and forced to wed me. I’d only thought about how the union would keep a war from breaking out, how it would prevent bloodshed, and how it could be the solution to the fight over the throne. With Emmeline by my side, no one would be able to oppose the kingship, not with both royal families united.
Once I explained to Emmeline all the benefits of our marriage, she’d see the wisdom in it and learn to accept her fate as much as I had. After all, few royal children could choose their own spouses. Such decisions were left to the kings and their advisors and were often political in nature. Surely, she understood the way of things.
Whatever the case, I needed Father Patrick to perform the ceremony as quickly as possible. Before I changed my mind. Once it was done, no one and nothing could undo the marriage—not even me. Our fate and the fate of the rebellion would be sealed.
“Skip all but the essentials.” I interrupted Father Patrick’s rambling. “We need to be on our way.”
“It is all essential,” Father Patrick responded, leveling upon me one of his censuring looks.
“Just the vows. The declaration of being man and wife. Only what is necessary to make the union binding.”
Father Patrick frowned. “You know I’m already having difficulty agreeing to this—”
“There will be a formal ceremony later.” Yes, Father Patrick had voiced his concerns about a forced union on several occasions. I didn’t need him doing so again and undermining my resolve. “Be on with it. We are wasting valuable time.”
With a nod, Father Patrick flipped ahead a page in his prayer book. He cleared his throat and began. “Your Royal Highness, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony?”
Emmeline’s arm against mine shook, and again self-loathing pulsed through me.
“Wilt thou love her,” he continued, “comfort her, honor, and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
She tensed as though praying for miraculous intervention, anything that would save her from this moment. If only I could reassure her I never took vows I didn’t intend to uphold, that I truly would do my best to love, comfort, honor, and keep her.
Father Patrick glanced up at me expectantly.
“I will,” I said, adding a silent vow to prove I was a worthy husband.
At my clear declaration, she startled and pulled back as much as she could against my firm grip. I could feel her gaze upon me, studying my profile, almost as if she was seeing me for the first time.
After I’d recaptured her in the woods a few moments ago, I’d realized she didn’t know I was the prince, that she believed I was merely a commander of the elite guards. I’d assumed once we rejoined the camp, she’d quickly discover my true identity. But obviously, she hadn’t.
I slanted her a sideways look.
“You’re Prince Ethelrex?” The brown of her eyes was as rich and thick as sable.
“Yes.”
She shot a glance at Magnus. Had she assumed my brother was the prince? Had she believed she was marrying him instead of me? I supposed after weeks of living in chain mail and scouring the forest, I wasn’t particularly at my finest. In fact, compared to Magnus in his princely attire and freshly groomed appearance, I was rather barbaric.
Father Patrick looked between Emmeline and me, then cleared his throat. “Now that we have clarified who is marrying whom, shall I continue?”
I nodded.
“Your Royal Highness,” he said more gently, with a kind look at the princess. “Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so lon
g as ye both shall live?”
She didn’t respond. In fact, her pretty lips were clamped tight.
I squeezed her arm, hoping to persuade her. Everything will be all right, I silently encouraged. I promise I shall be a good husband.
“Your Royal Highness,” Father Patrick said softly. “You must say, ‘I will.’”
Her face was pale, and the movement of her swallow in her long, graceful neck was pronounced.
I didn’t want to have to send Dante and several others back for her parents. But she had to understand that she’d leave me with no choice if she didn’t comply. As if remembering the same, she finally spoke. “I will.”
Though her words were barely more than a strangled whisper, the tension eased from my shoulders.
“For as much as this man and woman have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth each to the other, I pronounce therefore that they be man and wife together, in the name of God, our bishop, and our King, who is the protector of our people. Amen.”
“Amen,” I whispered, bowing my head in a moment of reverence to God and silently acknowledging I’d do everything within my power to fulfill my wedding vows. If I worked hard enough to love Emmeline, maybe she’d eventually accept me and our marriage. I could only hope and pray.
In the meantime, our union wasn’t secure. Although we were officially married, there would still be many who would attempt to nullify the ceremony and take her away from me. The sooner I could confine her within the royal residence at Delsworth, the better.
“Let us be on our way,” I called out, and the men immediately broke away to finish readying for departure.
Before I could sweep Emmeline back up into my arms, Father Patrick moved in and began speaking to her. “Your Royal Highness, I know this is all rather sudden, but rest assured. God has given you a very good man in Prince Ethelrex. I have known him all his life, and although he is sometimes stubborn, I attest that he will make you a kind and noble husband.”
“Thank you.” She nodded at the priest, taking his words of comfort with a dignity and grace I admired under the circumstances.
I gave Father Patrick a curt nod as well, hoping he understood my gratitude not only for performing the ceremony against his better judgment, but also for his affirmation.
Then, without further ado, I swept the princess up into my arms and started toward my large warhorse. The creature would tire faster carrying two of us, and I’d eventually need to hand Emmeline over to ride with Dante in order to sustain the pace I desired. For now, however, I’d keep her with me and ensure she didn’t attempt any other escapes.
“If I release the binding around your hands,” I asked, “will you promise not to thwart me?”
Her chin jutted in defiance. “You may have forced me into marrying you, but you cannot force me to stay.”
Just as I’d expected. I’d need to keep her bound, even though doing so would make traveling more uncomfortable for her. I signaled to Dante with a slight cock of my head.
He left his horse, crossed to me, and bowed.
“Retie the princess’s hands so that they are in front rather than behind her. And then lift her up to me.”
As my oldest, most loyal friend, I trusted Dante more than anyone else. His father was Lord Kennard, the wealthiest noblemen in Warwick, and had been the one to train us both along with the other knights who had come with me to Delsworth. I owed much of my skill as well as my strength to Lord Kennard. He’d been a strict man but ultimately kind and trustworthy.
While I mounted my horse and situated myself and my weapons, Dante repositioned Emmeline’s bindings even as she resisted his every move. Finally, he lifted her into my waiting arms. I positioned her sideways in the saddle in front of me. Although the fit was snug and left little room for movement, I had her exactly where I wanted her.
She scowled and held herself away from me. “This is highly inappropriate, as I’m practically in your lap. ’Twould be much better if I rode behind you.”
The gleam in her eyes told me if I moved her to the rear, she’d have an easier time freeing herself without my awareness.
I reached for the reins, purposefully drawing her closer and surrounding her within the confines of my arms so she was pressed to my chest. She remained stiff and unyielding. Not that I expected anything less. Yet.
With a nudge to my horse’s ribs, the beast started forward, the momentum further pressing Emmeline into my chest. Her hair tickled my chin and cheek, and I slanted so I was near her ear. “You are my wife now. As such, there is nothing inappropriate with your sitting upon my lap.”
I could feel her entire body pause at my bold words. And I could not stop myself from taking advantage of the situation with more brazenness. “In fact, I give you leave to sit on my lap whenever you so desire.”
“I shall never desire it,” she retorted hotly.
“I shall ensure that you do.”
“I should like to see you try.”
“You should know I never back down from a challenge. And also that I never lose.”
She drew herself up higher. “There is always a first time for everything. Even losing.”
I liked her sass. It was unexpected and different from the docile, ingratiating attitude of most young women I’d met at court. Even so, I wanted the princess to know I was serious about my vows and that our marriage wasn’t a game.
“I meant my vow to you.” My voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “And I will choose to love and cherish you unto death.”
I could sense her ready retort fade away and her shoulders soften—even if just a little. At that moment, I knew I would win her affection or die trying.
Chapter
7
Emmeline
After endless hours of riding, I was sore beyond endurance. Though I’d ridden our mule on occasion, the experiences left me woefully unprepared for the rigors of being upon a horse.
I’d done my best to remain stiff and aloof for most of the night, but it had taken every ounce of strength I possessed. I’d kept myself awake by plotting all the ways I might be able to flee, although I’d not been able to find a method that might actually work.
When the prince had halted briefly at dawn to water our horses, I’d hardly been able to stand when he lowered me to the ground. If not for Dante, I would have collapsed. And now, after riding with Dante all day, I suspected I’d never walk again. The prince could cut my bindings and have no fear of my escape.
From my spot in front of Dante, I had a perfect view of the prince’s rigid back, his broad shoulders, and his strong arms. Though we’d ridden as hard during the daytime as we had all night, he remained as alert and vigilant as he had been from the start.
The thinning of the vegetation and the change in flora and fauna told me we were nearing the edge of Inglewood Forest, that soon I’d leave my familiar woodland home behind. From the northeasterly direction we traveled, I’d long since guessed we were headed to the Central Heathlands.
Fear had been building inside me with each passing hour and the widening distance from my parents. Although overcome with weariness, I hadn’t allowed myself to sleep even for a minute during the hours of traveling, and now my eyelids lay heavy with both grit and the need for slumber.
Every time my head bobbed, I sat up with a firm reminder to stay awake and alert for an opportunity to make my escape. So far, none had presented itself.
If only I hadn’t run off into the forest when Father had told me we were going to Norland. If only we’d left at that moment . . .
My regrets sat heavily within my chest, next to my fear.
Out of everything that frightened me, I still wasn’t afraid of the prince, though I knew I ought to be. Even now, the way he rode with purpose and skill and determination commanded respect. His men jumped to obey his every word, not out of fear but out of reverence and adoration, even though everything about him rad
iated fierceness and danger.
I meant my vow to you. And I will choose to love and cherish you unto death. His whisper had replayed in my mind countless times, as had the priest’s comment about the prince. Rest assured. God has given you a very good man in Prince Ethelrex.
Rex—as his brother called him—a very good man? While the prince was brutal when he had to be, I’d been surprised by the kindness in him as well. He’d treated me more decently than other men would have in his situation. He’d even spared the tortured prisoner when his brother had insisted on killing him.
“We need him alive as a witness to the wedding ceremony,” the prince had said. “When his people find him, he will tell them what he saw so no one will doubt I have married the princess.”
His wise words had silenced any further argument, and we’d left the prisoner alive, bound to a tree, just as we had my parents.
Although I wasn’t afraid of Rex, I couldn’t claim the same regarding his brother. Something about Magnus gave me chills in a way I couldn’t explain. I sensed Magnus would have been far less lenient with me and my parents. So while I resented all that had happened, I was relieved I was married to Rex and not to his younger brother.
As if sensing my thoughts and gaze upon him, Rex shifted in his saddle and cast a glance at me over his shoulder. In the daylight, his blue eyes were vibrant, making his scruffy face all the more handsome.
He always seemed to take in more with a swift glance than I was capable of even after careful studying. Such attention to detail was something elite guards learned. But the prince was especially keen.
His face betrayed no emotion, but he held up his hand and gave a short, piercing whistle, bringing our party to a halt.
“Thank the saints,” grumbled Magnus from somewhere behind Dante. I caught the eye of Father Patrick and could see from his hunched shoulders and sagging head that his weariness matched my own. When he offered me a sympathetic smile, I gave him one back. But just as quickly as the smile came, I let it fall away. How could I smile at a time like this?
