“Colbert has been gathering information,” Dexter replied. “We believe Eldon may be forging an alliance with a kingdom to the east of here, across the ocean.”
“Melenia?” she asked, remembering Dexter’s conversation with the sailor.
“Yes.” They continued in silence for several minutes. The river to their right made a soothing sound as water rolled over rocks. “I must admit, I’m surprised they tried to kill you, too. I assumed the king would want you alive.”
“I know Eldon’s secret—that he is not the legitimate king. And since my father gave me his ring, the king can’t harm me. That’s why he is using assassins from outside Marsden. No one can know about his involvement.” If she could prove the king sent those men, Reid could rally the dukes to overthrow him. However, did she want to do that? Henrick had no intention of accepting the throne, so who would Marsden’s leader be? If Eldon died, Gordon would ascend to the throne. She had a hard time imagining the commander ruling Marsden.
“What are you thinking about?” Dexter asked.
Beads of sweat coated his forehead even though it wasn’t hot out. His wound didn’t appear to be bleeding anymore. Regardless, Reid would have to watch for signs of an infection.
“I’m considering who should be king.”
“So am I.”
“What are you thinking?” Reid asked.
“I’m tired of my father bending over backward for Eldon. I get he’s his son. But it’s not fair to my mother, Colbert, or even to me. We’ve stood by his side and supported him all these years.”
“What do you want your father to do?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I do know I don’t want my father to allow Eldon to invade and take over Axian.”
“What about your father giving Axian to Eldon?”
Dexter regarded her coolly. “How would you feel if your father handed Ellington over to the king?”
“I wouldn’t stand for it.” Granted, she didn’t know what—if anything—she could do to stop him, but she wouldn’t sit idly by and allow the king to destroy everything her father had worked so hard for.
“Even though Eldon is the king?” He climbed over a fallen tree.
“But he’s not.” Reid clambered up behind him, scraping her hands as she did so.
“He was crowned king.”
“That’s my point—Eldon can’t succeed King Hudson since he’s not Hudson’s son. The throne should belong to Prince Gordon or it should revert to Prince Henrick.” She slid off the tree, resuming her place behind Dexter.
“My father has no desire to sit on the throne. Since he’s declared Eldon as his heir, Eldon ends up the king regardless.”
Reid noticed Dexter hadn’t acknowledged the possibility of Gordon ascending to the throne. “What if your father chose someone else as his heir? Typically, it’s the eldest son, but there is nothing in the law that prevents your father from declaring you or Colbert.” Granted, that didn’t solve anything at the moment since Henrick didn’t want to be king.
Reid’s boots sank into the muddy ground, squishing as she walked. Dexter’s pace slowed.
“If we want to reveal Eldon is not Hudson’s son, those letters would be proof, correct?” Dexter asked.
“Yes.”
“And you believe Prince Ackley has those letters?”
“I do.”
“Whose side do you think Prince Ackley is on?”
A good question. Originally, she’d believed Ackley was solely dedicated to the Knights. Now, she wasn’t so sure. He’d told Gordon and Idina about the Knights, which he wasn’t supposed to do. He’d also stolen the letters with Leigh’s help. While Reid had thought Ackley loved and supported his brother Eldon, she couldn’t be certain. Especially considering the fact Eldon was trying to kill his siblings and Ackley seemed to be working in direct opposition to him.
“I don’t know,” she answered. Ackley kept his secrets closely guarded.
Dexter swayed.
“Are you okay?” Reid lunged forward, wrapping her arm around his waist to steady him.
“I’m beginning to fear the arrow was tipped with poison.”
“You lost a lot of blood when I removed the arrow,” she said. “Maybe you’re just weak from blood loss?”
“I don’t think so.” He leaned against a tree, breathing heavily. “Colbert was in an altercation and stabbed. He became ill within a few short hours. Suspecting the knife had been tipped with poison, I put charcoal on the wound to neutralize it. He started to feel better within minutes.”
Reid wanted to ask more about that altercation, but now was not the time. “If there’s poison in your system, we need to do something about it.” It had been hours since he’d been shot. What if it was already too late? Putting her hands on her hips, she started pacing.
“Now’s your chance to do away with me,” he said. He’d obviously meant it as a joke, but his voice came out weak.
It would be so much easier if Harlan were here. He could whip up something to take care of the poison in no time. Dexter said charcoal had worked for Colbert, but she didn’t have anything like that readily available. The palace was too far away. What other options were there? “Are there any homes nearby?”
“One mile east, on the other side of the river. I think.”
“Let’s go.” She wrapped her arm around his waist, hoisting him upright. “I need you to push yourself for twenty minutes, then you can rest.”
He nodded.
Since the river looked shallow here, Reid and Dexter crossed it. Some of the rocks on the bottom came loose, almost causing Reid to lose her footing. However, she managed to remain upright, still supporting Dexter. His face paled with every passing minute, sweat dripping down his cheeks.
Once safely on dry land again, Reid pulled Dexter along, maintaining a fast pace since he didn’t look like he could last much longer. If he passed out, she wouldn’t be able to carry him.
They trekked along, Reid taking more of his weight with each passing minute, until they came to a single-story wood home with smoke rising from the chimney.
“Hello,” Reid called out. “I need help!”
A man came around the side of the house, an axe in hand. He wiped his sweaty forehead with his arm. “What can I do for you?”
“This is Prince Dexter,” she said, her voice fast and urgent. “He’s injured and needs immediate attention.”
The man tossed his axe on the ground, rushing over to help. Dexter wrapped his good arm around the man’s shoulders, allowing the stranger to help him inside. Reid hovered right behind them.
Inside, a woman kneaded bread dough on a small table. “What happened?” She wiped her hands off and rushed over, helping Dexter sit on the bed.
“We were ambushed by assassins,” Reid explained. “Prince Dexter was shot with a poisoned arrow.”
“I have something we use for wounds like this,” the woman said. “But I’m not sure if it’ll help against poison.”
“Get whatever you have and bring it here.” Reid removed Dexter’s shirt, then helped him lie back, propping his head on a pillow.
The woman began to rummage around the kitchen area.
“Get charcoal,” Dexter ordered the man. “Now.”
He dashed over to a basket in the corner, pulling out a handful of black rocks. “What do you want me to do with them?”
Dexter clutched Reid’s hand. “I need to ingest some, and I need you to put some on my wound. Leave it on for an hour, then remove it. Once the wound is clean, apply the stuff the woman has, then stitch me up.”
Reid nodded, acknowledging the directions he gave in case he passed out or was too weak to talk. Her stomach twisted at the thought.
“Look at me,” Dexter commanded.
She gazed into his eyes.
“You’re pale.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted.
“Can I trust you to do this?”
“I can do it.” She turned to address the ma
n. “Grind the charcoal up. I want two batches. One in water so the prince can drink it, and the other in a bowl so I can put it on his arm.”
The man got to work.
“What are your names?” Reid asked.
“I’m Rick, and that’s Ava.”
“Thank you for helping us.”
“We’d do anything to aid our prince,” Rick said.
Reid removed the fabric tied around Dexter’s arm. When Rick handed her a bowl with tiny pieces of charcoal in it, she sprinkled some onto Dexter’s open wound. He pursed his lips, but he didn’t make a sound. Then Rick handed Reid a cup of water mixed with finely ground charcoal.
She carefully placed the cup on Dexter’s lips, slowly pouring it into his mouth. After he swallowed a few gulps, she withdrew the cup, hoping it was enough.
“Ava,” Dexter called out. “I need a favor.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” She curtsied.
“Check my fiancée’s back.”
“I’m fine,” Reid assured him. Her voice came out weaker than she’d intended, shocked by Dexter’s use of the word fiancée. He probably only said it so these people would know she wasn’t a soldier.
“She was also struck by an arrow,” Dexter explained. “However, she was fortunate enough to have armor on. I want to be sure the poisoned tip didn’t penetrate the armor and scratch her back.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“I’ll leave so you can have some privacy,” Rick said, exiting the house.
“Lady Reid.” Ava gestured toward the corner of the room.
Seeing no way around this embarrassment, Reid went over and removed her tunic. After untying the vest, she took it off, carefully setting it on the table. Withdrawing both daggers, she set them beside her armor. Facing the corner again, she pulled her shirt over her head, exposing her bare back to Ava.
“Is there a puncture wound?” Dexter asked.
“There are two small marks,” Ava answered. “While I don’t see any blood, both spots are pretty swollen.”
“I want you to put charcoal on them just to be safe,” he ordered. “And I want Lady Reid to drink some of the charcoal, too.”
Reid didn’t think either was necessary. However, Dexter needed to rest so he could fight off the poison. He wouldn’t do that until Reid was cared for. It was easier to comply than fight.
“Would you prefer to sit on a chair or lie on the bed?” Ava inquired.
“She’ll lie down,” Dexter said. “That way she can leave the charcoal on for a full hour.”
“But I don’t have a shirt on,” Reid said. “I can’t lie next to you.” Her breathing sped up.
“Reid, don’t be so difficult. We’re going to be married in a few weeks.”
Heat scorched her body, and there was nothing she could do to hide her utter embarrassment. It was awkward enough having a woman she didn’t know tend to her. However, it was doubly awkward having Dexter in the same room, let alone the same bed.
He tilted his head, facing her, and managed a weak smile. “Don’t tell me you’re shy.”
Mortification set in. The longer she waited, the worse it would get. “Look the other way and close your eyes.”
Thankfully, he complied. Clutching her shirt against her chest, she scurried over to the bed and plopped on her stomach, making sure the sheet fully covered her breasts. Since the bed was so tiny, her arm inadvertently brushed Dexter’s.
Ava approached. There wasn’t enough room for her to sit on the bed, so she stood next to Reid to apply the charcoal to the two spots on her back. “When my husband returns, I’ll have him grind up some more so you can drink it.”
“Take some out to him and have him do it now,” Dexter said. “I don’t want to wait in case there is poison in Lady Reid’s system.”
Ava did as he said, slipping outside.
“I’m fine,” Reid insisted. “I don’t feel off.”
“I’d rather not wait to find out.” His voice sounded stronger than before, giving Reid hope the charcoal was already working to neutralize the poison.
“You know,” she said, repeating the words he’d said earlier, “now’s your chance to do away with me.”
He tilted his head toward her. “If I wanted to get rid of you, I would have done so by now.”
She blinked, trying to decide if he was joking. Probably not. She doubted he did anything he didn’t want to. He’d agreed to their marriage for a reason. “Sorry you’re stuck with me.” Her sister, Kamden, would have been better suited as a princess who portrayed the image Nara desired. “I’m moody and not the doting-wife type.”
He chuckled, his focus on the ceiling. “I’m fairly certain I’m not the doting-husband type either.”
While neither wanted this marriage, at least they both cared for and sought what was best for their people. United in that, they could learn to be friends, couldn’t they? And since neither was seeking love, they wouldn’t have to worry about losing their hearts.
Ava entered carrying a mug. She handed it to Reid, who begrudgingly drank the nasty contents.
“I hate to ask this of you,” Dexter said, “but I need you to put the fire out. If anyone is searching for us, I don’t want them to see the smoke and come here.”
“Of course,” Ava replied. “I’ll get my husband to toss dirt on it.”
Once she left, Reid said, “I think Eldon is trying to kill all contenders for the throne since he knows he’s not the true king.”
“That makes sense.”
“He won’t stop until he succeeds.”
He patted her hand. “Then we’ll just have to stop him before he does.”
“How do you suggest we do that?”
“I’ll figure it out later. Right now, I’m going to close my eyes and rest.”
Reid supposed she should do the same.
Reid woke up to find Dexter staring at her. Before she could say anything, Ava patted Reid’s shoulder.
“It’s time to remove the charcoal and apply the healing salve.”
“Okay.” And Reid needed to use the privy. If there was one.
Ava used a soft cloth to wipe off the charcoal. Then she applied a cool salve to Reid’s back. “All finished.”
“Thank you.” Reid twisted away from Dexter and sat up, clutching her shirt to her chest. She quickly put it on. Ava handed Reid her tunic, so she slid that on as well.
“Now that you’re dressed, I’ll go get my husband,” Ava said. “Then we can prepare something for you to eat.”
When she exited, Dexter said, “We’ll stay here tonight. But I want to leave first thing tomorrow morning. We need to get home in case there’s been an attack on the palace.”
Reid understood his concern, though she didn’t think the assassins would be able to get anywhere near the palace.
Rick and Ava entered. They started rummaging around the kitchen area, pulling out plates, bread, and carrots.
“Without a fire to cook, the meal is going to be meager,” Rick said. “I’m sorry we don’t have something suitable for a prince.”
“Anything will be fine,” Dexter replied. “I’m grateful for your help, and I don’t care what we eat. Your hospitality and kindness are more than we could have hoped for.”
“Is there a privy?” Reid asked, tucking her two daggers into her pants.
“Yes. It’s around back,” Ava replied.
“Rick, can you please escort Lady Reid?” Dexter said.
Reid glared at Dexter, unused to him acting concerned or overbearing.
“Sorry.” Dexter raised his hands. “But the assassins are out there somewhere. The last thing I want is for them to kidnap you to use against our families.”
“Fine.” She followed Rick out of the house. Walking around the side of the place, she breathed in the pungent smell of pine and damp dirt. The sun had recently set, casting the area in a dull, murky gray.
Rick sat on a tree stump thirty or so feet from a small shack that served as the privy.
After relieving herself, Reid exited the shack, not seeing Rick anywhere. She froze, observing her surroundings. No birds sang, no forest animals scurried nearby. Something was wrong.
Withdrawing her daggers, she analyzed the situation. If someone were out there, not only was the front door too far away and exposed, but it was also probably being watched. The two windows on the side of the house were closer. If she made it through one into the house, she’d have the cover she needed. However, she’d be trapped in there with no way out. If the assassins called in reinforcements, then Reid and Dexter wouldn’t stand a chance. To survive, she needed to draw the assassins out and eliminate them.
Since no one had shot at her, they must not be aware of her presence at the back of the house. Most likely, they were watching the front door. Moving slowly, she made her way around to the rear of the small shack. A twig snapped about ten feet in front of her. She raised a dagger, about to throw it, when Rick stepped out from behind a tree, one finger on his lips and an axe in hand. She relaxed, and he joined her.
They leaned against the shack. Rick held up three fingers. Reid understood it meant there were three assassins.
Tilting his head toward her, Rick whispered, “Front of the house. One up in the tree on the right, one behind the largest boulder, and one squatting behind the tree on the left.”
“I’ll take care of the man behind the boulder.”
He dipped his chin. “And I’ll take care of the other two.”
Rick motioned for Reid to follow him, then led the way deeper into the forest. After fifty feet, they split up—Reid going to the right, Rick to the left. As she swung around, making her way to the front of the house, she focused on where she stepped so she wouldn’t make any noise. Their plan would only work if they took the assassins by surprise.
Creeping through the forest, Reid couldn’t believe she was about to take on a group of assassins. If her theory was correct, they weren’t anything more than hired mercenaries. Had these men been trained assassins—like Ackley—Reid would already be dead.
At the front of the house, she hid behind a tree and scanned the area, searching for the three men. The one in the tree was easy to spot since he was on one of the lower branches, which exposed most of his body. He had his bow aimed at the front door.
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