The Prince's Wing

by Amber R. Duell

  Chapter Twelve

  “Remind me where the king thinks you are right now?” I whispered.

  Bastian wandered slightly in front of me through the capital. The entire city center of Ora Et was full of stalls selling different wares—if you wanted it, you’d find it at the weekly bazaar. And if you couldn’t find it, someone would know where it was attainable. People came from far and wide to buy or sell here, which made my job nearly impossible today. Both me and the prince wore civilian clothing—a rough-spun tunic and pants, complete with stains, rips, and a few dirt smudges for good measure. Bastian’s long hair was tied into a messy knot at the nape of his neck while mine hung, limp, to my shoulders.

  I blew a stray piece from where it caught my eyelash and regretted my choice to slick it back with grease. While I usually kept it tied back, I never used anything to keep it there, but I had to replicate an unwashed look while maintaining full visual range.

  “I’m going over ledgers,” Bastian replied.

  I casually scanned the crowd. “Isn’t that what the Governor of Finance is for?”

  Bastian shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t also go over them. Maybe someone is brave enough to swindle the crown.”

  Someone definitely is. Someone always was, especially with this particular monarch.

  “What do you think of these?”

  I turned my attention to a long, crooked table. Jewels of every color were spread out across its length, glittering under the sun. They were set in rings, bracelets, necklaces, and hair pieces, while others sat on their own, waiting for the buyer to choose how the stone would be used. None of them were as well-made as what Karina already wore, but these had more character. Still…

  “I think if you add another gem to her, she’ll blind you the moment she steps outside,” I mumbled, keeping my voice low so the merchant couldn’t hear. Besides, we were trying to keep a low profile and I was sure the merchant was already growing suspicious, thinking that we either weren’t low-born or were about to swipe a precious gemstone.

  Bastian snorted. “What do you suggest then?”

  I had no idea what Karina liked but I wished I did. Even if it was something small, a little piece of knowledge not involving treason, that I alone knew, even after she married Bastian. Who was I kidding? I already knew something about her that no one else did. Betrayal. I was a shit friend. A shit guard. Just… shit.

  “A book?” Bastian suggested.

  “Definitely not.” Not when the duchess was likely forcing her to read through every history book in the library.

  “Shoes? Women like shoes.”

  I shook my head. She had plenty of those in her room, not that I could tell Bastian without raising questions.

  Bastian rubbed at the back of his neck. “I didn’t think it would be this difficult.”

  “It’s hard because you don’t know her. Maybe instead of a gift, you should visit her.” Also, if Karina suddenly took a liking to Bastian, it would make things a lot easier for me. Maybe not to watch as they held hands, exchanged knowing glances, shared intimate moments—a spike of jealousy struck me. I wanted to be the one to slip my tongue between her lips again. Me. Not anyone else. I clenched my jaw. No, it wouldn’t be pleasant to watch her fall for Bastian, but it would definitely help keep me in check.

  “You know I can’t.” He ran his hand over a rolled carpet with a tasseled edge as we walked past a robust man selling them. Different designs hung behind his stall and smaller ones were piled on a table.

  “You can if you have a chaperone and what do you know? A perfectly good one happens to be tutoring her from sun up until sun down.”

  “I’m… busy.”

  I took a deep breath and shot him a withering look. “You’re avoiding her, aren’t you?”

  “No.” He winced. “Maybe.”

  “Why?” Why send me when he was the one marrying her?

  “What if she doesn’t like me?” he blurted, followed quickly by a wince.

  I nearly tripped over my own feet. “What?”

  “Me. What if she doesn’t like who I am as a person? My”—he cast a glance over his shoulder—“profession draws a lot of attention but she’ll be trapped with me, as a man, for the rest of her life.”

  “As opposed to her being trapped with you as a dog?” I asked, leading the way around a tin-smith selling decorative baubles.

  “You know what I mean, Saer,” he whispered. “We should have more than general respect for each other, shouldn’t we?”

  “I do know,” I agreed. Karina was marrying a prince, but she would be living beside a person—not a crown. Bastian wanted her to like him. And, though I doubted he would admit it, I believed he wanted to fall in love with her. Could anyone blame him?

  “This?” Bastian asked, hopeful.

  Catching a whiff of something rich and sweet, I glanced at a stand a few places down. It was overflowing with chocolates—a luxury item that would’ve melted if winter wasn’t approaching.

  A female customer with delicate features picked a small square up and placed it between her lips, but in that moment, all I could see was Karina’s face, her hands. The fact that I wanted to give such a delicacy to her ripped at my insides. What was wrong with me?

  “Perfect,” Bastian said, following my gaze. A boyish grin spread across his face. When was the last time I’d seen him like this? He breezed toward the chocolatier as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  “An assortment,” I told the merchant. Bastian had never been able to nail the casual way of speaking that they used in Ora Et, and I didn’t want to blow our cover just as we finished our task. “Large box.” The merchant scowled, looking us up and down. “Our lord sent us for them,” I tacked on with a tight smile.

  Bastian tossed a small bag of coins at the man and I winced. He didn’t even count it. Didn’t wait for the man to tell us how much we owed.

  “Whatever that will get us,” I said to cover our tracks.

  The man’s eyes widened as he looked inside the bag. How much did Bastian bring? When the merchant pulled a large box from behind the stand and began carefully arranging dozens of chocolates into small papers, I fought a groan. Now we had to carry a box that screamed made of money back through the market without an assault attempt. Which I would need to thwart. Without scattering chocolate all over the street. And, inevitably, making a huge scene that would end with King Edric finding out we snuck out of the palace.

  “You’re lucky I like you,” I said so only Bastian could hear.

  The prince side-eyed me and laughed.

  While Bastian waited for the chocolates to be boxed up, I turned to watch for threats. Bastard thieves were probably already watching us. Waiting. Though what they hoped to steal now was a mystery. The chocolate? Good luck selling that second-hand. My hidden weapons? I dared them.

  But I wasn’t expecting this type of danger to appear.

  Countess Odelia strolled between stalls in a gold gown, the fabric nearly invisible beneath the strands of beading, her hair braided and worn like an imitation crown. She looked exactly like her portrait—the one stuffed into storage with other forgotten things from King Jonty’s time—only older. Two male bodyguards followed her with grim looks. A scar ran across one’s throat as if someone had sliced it open, while the other appeared unblemished. The crowd hushed and moved aside at her arrival. Not even a whisper rose through the market. With how cruel the countess was said to be, I wouldn’t have risked her overhearing a snide remark either.

  But it felt heavier than that. Like the countess was dragging the old monarchy back to Eradrist on the train of her dress. I scowled at the tall woman. Her features were sharp and almost birdlike, her dark hair run through with gray. How did someone as light as honey call the countess mother?

  At Odelia’s loud cackle, Bastian shifted beside me and froze. “Is that…”

  “Yes,” I said quickly.

  “She was ordered to stay in Port Black with her brother.”<
br />
  And yet, there she was. Bastian couldn’t tell the king without giving away our secret outing, but it wouldn’t be long before someone did. The countess was clearly not trying to hide her arrival. I swiped the half-filled box of chocolate from the stunned seller. “Move,” I told Bastian. “Don’t look back. All we need is for her to recognize you.”

  “How would she do that? She was banished before I could even walk.”

  “The same way we recognize her. Portraits,” I grumbled, urging him away from the shrewd woman.

  “How long has she been here?” Bastian asked, though I could tell from his tone that he didn’t actually expect me to know.

  “I’ll find out.” First, I’d visit Karina and see what she knew. Then, I’d return to the capital and track the countess down myself. If Karina was smart, her story would line up with the truth. I flicked a glance down the street at Faramond’s office and aimed our path directly toward the palace. The Red Aster leader was aware of this… He must have known. Fuck. I was tired of these games.

  ✽✽✽

  Bastian had agreed to give me as much time as possible to learn what I could about Countess Odelia’s arrival. Which meant he would likely be dining with his father tonight. I was sure they had royal wedding plans to sort out or an argument with the governors to have—perhaps an argument about the wedding. It was too much to hope that it would be called off… Not that I could pursue Karina anyway.

  I shook the thoughts from my head as I followed the directions given by a silk merchant. He’d delivered a shipment of his finest a week ago to the largest brick house on the wealthiest street in Ora Et. Which meant Odelia had been there at least that long. Slipping between the red brick of Odelia’s rental house and a spiked, black iron fence, I eased up to an open window. Sheer curtains billowed from inside. It was too high to see inside and discover if the room was occupied. But standing out here wasn’t going to get me answers.

  I adjusted my spine between two of the iron poles and leaned back, placing my feet on the brick to brace myself, and began inching upward. When I was nearly at the ledge of the window, an interior door opened and shut.

  “I can’t believe her,” Countess Odelia seethed. “Did you read this?”

  Paper crinkled before a male voice replied, “I don’t need to. You’ve told me what it says six different ways.”

  The countess let out a small, wordless shriek. “This is the thanks I get? I plucked that little bitch out of the gutters of Port Black and made her a princess. She’d be selling herself on the docks if it weren’t for me.”

  Wait. What?

  “You’ll be invited back to the palace soon enough, dearest. People will expect you at the wedding.”

  “The wedding?” she said, words dripping with condescension. “If there is one! Without me there to make sure she isn’t dismantling my plan one snide remark at a time. The false prince probably won’t even have her.”

  Gutters of Port Black.

  Selling herself if not for the Countess.

  “You chose her,” the man said.

  “I know I chose her,” she snapped. “She resembles Jonty.”

  Chose her.

  My pulse thundered in my ears. I couldn’t be hearing this right. Because this… It sounded like Karina wasn’t King Jonty’s bastard.

  “Faramond shouldn’t have pushed us,” she added.

  The man crossed the room and I caught a hint of black hair. “The boy has been old enough to marry for a few years now. You know it was foolish to wait any longer and risk a royal marriage with another country.”

  “If I was with her, things wouldn’t be so worrisome.”

  Faramond.

  The boy.

  The chosen girl.

  Risk of a royal wedding.

  What the fuck?

  Karina wasn’t Odelia’s daughter. She was someone else entirely. I scaled back down the wall, my back aching from how hard I had braced against the fence. Shaking my numb hands out, I attempted to process what I’d learned. Tried to make sense of it as my body stilled in preparation for an attack that wouldn’t come. Not here, where I’d already checked for guards. Checked and found none because this wasn’t the palace.

  There were no royals here. No parents of royals. Only lies. Layers of them, each rottener than the last. And if I wasn’t careful with the information I’d just learned, I wouldn’t only be a liar but a very dead liar.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A new lady’s maid greeted me—attempted to greet me—as I stormed into the Women’s Palace. I brushed past the young, dark-skinned woman without a word and headed deeper into the palace, through several brightly lit hallways, without knowing where Karina was.

  “My Lord Wing,” the lady’s maid called after me. “Please, wait.”

  “Where is she?” I demanded, voice low.

  “Eating dinner in her rooms,” the maid answered as she rushed to keep up. “She requested not to be disturbed. Even Duchess Fra—”

  I whirled on her and held up the box of chocolates that Bastian had bought earlier. “I’m here with a gift from the prince.”

  She hesitated, opened her mouth, then shut it again. That’s right, I thought as fear flickered over her face. I was death itself. Stand in my way and feel my blade. Or whatever it was the people at court told themselves. As long as it got me into Karina’s room so I could rip the truth from her, it didn’t matter.

  Nothing was said as I turned toward Karina’s rooms again. Nor did she say anything about how sure my stride was as I navigated the halls like I knew the exact path to Karina’s room. The maid was too smart to imply anything to my face. For her own sake, I hoped she was smart enough not to say it behind my back either.

  Without knocking, I swung open the ornate doors to Karina’s private rooms and slipped inside. The maid paused, mouth open, as I turned to meet her gaze. I lifted a brow and swung the door shut before she could attempt to follow.

  The clatter of a chair drew my attention. I whipped around to find Karina clutching her throat. Choking.

  “Fuck!” I dropped the chocolates and raced up beside her. Quickly leaning her forward, I pounded a flat palm against her upper back. Once. Twice. Three times. And a rattling gasp filled the air. “Can you breathe?”

  Karina slumped into my arm where I held her around the waist, one hand gripping the edge of a small table. A half-chewed bite of salmon sat on a plate beside three small potatoes and a pile of green beans. “Yes,” she rasped after a moment.

  I eased away from her slowly to be sure she wouldn’t collapse. Picking up her fallen chair, I arranged it behind her so she could sit. “Do you want something to drink?”

  The beads hanging around Karina’s arms clicked together as she plopped into the chair and nodded. I grabbed the glass of wine beside her plate and held it out. She winced a little as she took it and drank. My eyes trailed down from her lips to where her throat worked with each swallow. I should hate her, want to rip her from that chair and throw her out of this kingdom. And yet, the urge to trail my fingers along her neck burned with need. I pushed the red-hot lust aside focusing on why I was here.

  All the lies that had flowed from her pretty little mouth.

  “Thank you,” she said once the glass was empty. “You scared me coming in here like that and I swallowed when I shouldn’t have.”

  I studied her. “I noticed.”

  “Do you need something?” Karina glanced around me at the door.

  “In a hurry to get rid of me?” If I were gone, her secrets would be so much safer.

  “No.” She shifted uncomfortably. “But you nearly ripped my door off the hinges. Without knocking first, I might add. Did my new lady’s maid not tell you I wished to dine alone?”

  “She told me.” I yanked the second chair away from the table, spun it around, and straddled it. Folding my arms on the curved back of the seat, I glared at her. “I went to the market today.”

  Her brow creased. “Oh? I’ve heard it’s th
e largest in Eradrist.”

  I studied her face, finding it calm. She’s good. “It is the capital.”

  Karina chewed her lip as she lifted her fork to poke at the potatoes. “Port Black has one once a month.”

  “With stolen goods, no doubt,” I mumbled.

  “Port Black is more than pirates and convicts.” She stabbed one of the potatoes a little harder. “There are master craftsman and food from all over the world. Duke Milo”—she paused—“my uncle, has a very profitable and legal transportation company. The men and women who live there are usually honest. The most readily available jobs may not be desirable, but people are happy to put in the labor instead of thieving.”

  I leaned closer and scowled. “You’re taking my comment rather personally. Didn’t the Countess keep you at the family estate? I have a hard time imagining you were allowed to interact with the commoners, considering how valuable you are.”

  “My mother hasn’t liked me from the moment she laid eyes on me.” Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say more, but nothing followed. No grand confession—not that it was expected to come so easily. But, just as I was sure she wouldn’t elaborate, she added, “You’re right, though. I haven’t gone into the city in years.”

  The sadness in her voice, the longing, hit a nerve. I could see it hadn’t been her choice. That she longed for it. Or perhaps there was someone she yearned for. If she wasn’t the bastard daughter of King Jonty, then she was the daughter of someone else. With the countess and the Asters snapping at her heels, I would have to coax her into telling me. Demanding the truth would seal her lips tighter than the royal vault.

  “Perhaps Bastian will take you to the market one day,” I said.

  Her eyes widened. “Would he do that?”

  I smirked. “As much as I would want to throttle him for it, yes.”

  “Is that something you should say about the prince?” It wasn’t accusatory, but genuine curiosity.

  “We grew up together.” We’d been forced to act properly in public, but everyone knew we considered each other friends. “He’s the prince. I’m his Wing. But we’re more like brothers behind closed doors.”