by Barb Hendee
Our own king, Eduard, was a widower with a small daughter named Ashton. Upon hearing of the death of the neighboring king, he rode to Tircelan to personally offer any needed assistance—as he feared possible upheaval or civil war so close to his own border.
But upon meeting Genève, Eduard fell in love. They married, and Tircelan was absorbed into our own, much larger kingdom. Any initial resistance was stamped out quickly. This all occurred when Rowan was twelve and Ashton was two. Not long after, King Eduard formally adopted Rowan as his son.
Over the next fifteen years, the blended royal family became admired and loved by the people. Eduard was a good king, respected by the noble families for his attention to securing our borders while not over-taxing the commoners.
Then one night at dinner, he grabbed at his chest and died.
By right of blood and birth, Ashton should have taken the crown, but she was only seventeen—and a woman—and our council of twelve noblemen held a vote to crown Rowan as king. This vote passed unanimously. There was some surprise among the common people, but Rowan and Ashton had long been viewed as brother and sister…and he was the elder brother.
He was crowned without incident two years ago.
Now, he needed a queen. He needed to secure the line with heirs.
I had no intention of letting this chance slip through my fingers, not for any reason. No matter the obstacles, I would overcome them.
Footsteps sounded behind me, and I blinked at the sight of my father walking across the courtyard. Had he come to see me off? To kiss me good-bye?
The absurdity of either reason almost made me laugh.
What did he want?
Stopping a few paces away, he studied me. This morning, I wore a gray cloak over a simple traveling gown. Even in summer, the nights and mornings could be cool.
“Daughter,” he said.
“Yes, Father?” I responded dutifully.
“Lord Arullian has asked for your hand again.”
Of all the things he might have said, this was not what I expected. Lord Arullian was a corrupt earl in his late fifties—rumored to be sadistic. He’d already had three wives. Two of them died under suspicious circumstances, and the last one killed herself by drinking poison.
Watching my father carefully, I said nothing.
“It would sadden me to see you in his hands,” Father went on, “but the connection would be good for the family. Should you come home in failure, I see little choice but to accept his offer.”
Though the morning was not overly cool, I shivered.
His threat was clear. I would succeed or he would make me suffer as Arullian’s next wife.
“Yes, Father,” I answered. “But I won’t fail. The next time you see me will be to attend my wedding to King Rowan.”
He smiled. “Of course. I have no doubt.”
“We’re all set, my lord,” Captain Reynaud called. “Is Lady Olivia ready to leave?”
Stepping toward me, my father reached out. I took his hand, put my foot in the stirrup, and let him help me settle into Meesha’s saddle. I could not remember him ever having touched me before.
“Good-bye, daughter,” he said.
“Good-bye.”
I looked around the courtyard at the keep. I would not miss this place. I hoped to never see it again.
My new home was the castle in Partheney.
Chapter Two
Four days later, I’d begun to question my decision to ride Meesha rather than riding on the wagon’s bench next to our driver. Though Meesha was a gentle creature, I’d never in my life spent four straight days in a sidesaddle. My back ached, and the pain in my right hip, where most of my weight was supported, had become nearly unbearable. I envied the men riding astride.
Still, I was determined to show no weakness, and had been gratified to see so much of the kingdom. Though we entertained frequently at the keep, and I was skilled in the arts of polite society, I’d never been off my family’s lands. Today, as the sky grew continually darker and the air more damp and cool, I knew we neared the west coast.
“How much farther?” I asked Captain Reynaud, who rode beside me.
“We’ll need to stop for the night soon, my lady,” he answered, “but we should reach Partheney by tomorrow afternoon.”
This came as a relief. Every day, I’d grown more grateful for his steady presence. He was a bit coarse in his speech and manner, but I cared nothing about that. So far, he’d managed to find shelter for me each night. Twice, he’d found me an inn and arranged quarters in local stables for the men. Last night, when there was no town or village along our path, he’d set up a tent for me and piled blankets for a makeshift bed.
The men slept on the open ground.
Now, we were nearing the end of the fourth day, and we’d not seen a village for hours, but I wasn’t worried. I could always sleep in the tent again.
Then…a raindrop hit my shoulder.
Another followed, this one striking my head.
The captain looked up in alarm. As the rain fell harder, I pulled up the hood of my cloak. In the southeast, summer rainstorms were not uncommon, but the sky didn’t open quite like this, and I wasn’t sure the tent would prove waterproof.
“There, my lady!” Reynaud called, pointing ahead.
Squinting through the falling water, I saw a barn in the distance.
Nudging his horse forward, he led the way. I kept my head down, but Meesha knew enough to follow his horse. Through the sudden storm, I could barely see the men all around us, and I was relieved when we stopped.
“It appears to be abandoned, my lady,” Reynaud said. “Shall I go in first and check?”
As the barn indeed appeared abandoned, I didn’t care to sit in the rain while he made an inspection. “No, let us just take shelter inside.”
Before I could move, he was off his horse and on the ground.
“Put your hands on my shoulders before I lift you.”
Though it was hardly acceptable for him to speak to me in such a frank manner, I didn’t offer censure. No matter how well I’d hidden my discomfort, he knew. Following his instructions, I braced my hands on his shoulders. Grasping my waist, he lifted me down. I could barely feel my legs, and he did not let go.
The rain beat down harder, and I finally nodded to him when I believed I could stand on my feet.
Men around me were hopping down off their horses, and we hurried for the barn. A young guardsman named Talon opened the doors. Captain Reynaud and I stepped inside first.
The first things I noticed were two glowing candle lanterns sitting on crates. Then my eyes scanned the rest of the large interior of the barn, and it took a moment for the scene before me to register.
Five men were already inside, crouched in a circle, and one of them was digging through a burlap bag. Their clothes were tattered and filthy. A small, young woman, perhaps not yet twenty, sat on a crate between them with her eyes down. She wore a fine wool cloak. Her hands were bound in the front, and her expression was that of someone lost to herself.
Beside me, Captain Reynaud breathed in sharply. “My lady…that is Princess Ashton.”
“What?”
He never had a chance to answer, as all five men sprang to their feet, and one of them drew the short sword on his hip.
That action alone probably killed him, as Guardsman Talon immediately dodged in front of me and rushed. I never saw him draw his own sword, but he slammed the man’s short sword aside and then ran him through with a long blade.
All of my guards were coming in the doors, but instead of turning to fight, the other four strangers bolted in panic, fleeing for the back door. Captain Reynaud gave chase.
Though no longer in his prime, he could still run.
Unfortunately, the young woman stood in panic, staring at my guards in terrified confus
ion, and then she too turned to run. But she didn’t follow the others. There was a window to her left, and even with her hands still tied, she scrambled up onto a crate, trying to get out that window.
“Captain!” I called.
Turning his head, he saw her and veered off in his chase. His men were awaiting orders. Their job was to protect me, and without orders, none of them would leave my side.
In a matter of seconds, he was up on the crate and had the woman in his arms, pulling her back up against his chest.
She cried out with a frightened, anguished sound.
“Princess,” he said. “It’s all right. I’m from the house of Géroux.”
She didn’t seem to hear him and struggled in his arms. With little idea what to do—or what was happening here—I walked forward, letting her see me.
As I reached them and took a closer look at her, she struck me as more of a girl than a woman, small and slender with silky black hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. Even in her current state, she was pretty. But she was also hysterical, and no noblewoman worth her weight should ever give in to hysteria.
“Princess,” I said, reaching out to untie her hands. “You are all right. These are my guards. Who were those men holding you captive?”
Reynaud looked around in frustration. One of her captors was dead, and due to the distraction Ashton had caused, the other four had escaped. We’d get no answers from anyone but her.
Her eyes locked onto my face, and some of the panic faded. “I want to go home,” she whispered. “I want my brother.”
Then she fainted in Reynaud’s arms.
It was difficult to hold back my disgust. Useless girl. I couldn’t imagine any situation in which I might ask for one of my brothers and then faint.
Sighing, I looked to Reynaud. “We’ll need to make her comfortable until she wakes.”
* * * *
She didn’t wake until morning.
We spent a somewhat uncomfortable night in the barn, but at least we’d remained dry. As soon as the sun crested, Reynaud sent a few men outside to see if they could build a fire from straw and a broken crate—so that we might at least boil water for tea.
Two horses had been found outside. We assumed one had been for the princess and the other for the man Guardsman Talon killed. The other men must have escaped on horseback.
As soon as the princess stirred, I sent a guard to see if the tea was ready. A hot drink might do her good.
Kneeling beside her, I heard Reynaud’s heavy bootsteps coming up behind me. As Ashton’s eyes opened, they widened at the sight of me and then moved swiftly up to Reynaud, but she immediately took in his green tabard. This was a good sign to suggest she might be more coherent.
“Géroux?” she whispered.
I nodded. “I am Olivia Géroux. We are on our way to Partheney.”
Her eyes returned to my face. “Olivia? Then you will be our queen.” She grasped my hand. “You will be my sister.”
While these words caught me off guard, I was beyond glad to hear them. Rowan’s own sister already viewed me as the next queen. This did much to establish confidence in my position. More, she didn’t appear to resent me in the slightest. The moment she’d lost her throne to her brother, her fate as a “princess” had been sealed, never to be queen here. And princesses were married off to foreign kings. In her place, I would have hated me on sight.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“Quite by accident, I fear. We took shelter from the rain.”
She stood up quickly and glanced around. I stood as well.
Beneath her open cloak, she wore a wool gown of pale blue. The color made her blue eyes glow. This was the first time I really looked at her. Last night, I’d noticed she was pretty, but I now saw that even with straw in her hair, she was striking beautiful, like one of the dolls I’d played with as a child. Her silky head barely reached my shoulder. Her skin was like pure milk. Her wrists and hands were fragile.
Standing beside her, I couldn’t help feeling overly tall and gangly…almost hulking.
But she didn’t appear to notice this, and spoke to Captain Reynaud.
“Forgive me. But you must get us to Partheney as soon as possible. My brother will be beside himself. He’ll have men searching door-to-door in the city. There’s no telling what he might do.”
That stuck me as doubtful. Brothers did not go to such lengths to retrieve their sisters.
“Who were those men, Princess?” Reynaud asked. “How did you come to be here?”
She winced, as if remembering. “I…I was alone in the stable yesterday, and one of them grabbed me. He put a bag over my head, and then I was pushed into the back of a wagon and felt myself being covered. I was afraid…but not overly. Our guards search any wagons passing through the castle gates, so I didn’t believe the men would get me out.”
Reynaud stepped closer. “But they did get you out. How?”
She shivered. “The guards at the gate did not search the wagon, and let it pass.”
At this, I couldn’t help a stab of pity. Though her story made little sense, women of our class relied upon our guards. I could not imagine my father’s men allowing captors in tattered clothing to roll me out the gates of the keep.
“Did they say what they wanted?” Reynaud asked. “Ransom?”
“Not ransom. They said they were taking me north, to the kingdom of Samourè, to marry Prince Amandine.”
That made no sense at all. Ruffians did not kidnap princesses and carry them across the border to be married…unless perhaps Prince Amandine wished to marry the girl and had failed in his own negotiations. But how did that explain why the guards allowed Ashton’s captors out the gates without searching their wagon?
Reaching out, she grasped my hand again. “I am grateful to you for saving me, but please, we must hurry. The king will be distraught.”
* * * *
The rest of the morning passed swiftly.
Though I’d never met a princess, Ashton behaved nothing as I would have imagined. Neither proud nor haughty—nor regal—she remained quiet much of the journey and deferred to Captain Reynaud in all things.
By mathematical accounting, she must be at least nineteen, a little older than me, but she seemed younger, almost childlike, and I couldn’t help wondering why. Still, in the grand scheme, I didn’t give her much thought. Though she’d stated I would be her “sister,” this meant little. Again…she would soon be married off, and I would probably see her perhaps a few times over the course of the rest of our lives—if that. To me, she would be nothing.
We stopped for a simple lunch, and she thanked the captain for the apple and the biscuit he brought her. Upon seeing the protective and pitying expression on his face, I wavered in my opinion of her. He looked as if he wanted to strip off his cloak and wrap it around her like a blanket. Perhaps she was not such a fool. I’d met women who possessed the gift of making all men want to lay down their lives. Such women disgusted me. I could never simper and say “thank you” so prettily to win the heart of a man. These guards protected me because they were paid and because they were loyal to my family.
This was the only acceptable arrangement.
After lunch, we rode a few more hours, and then I saw Ashton shift uncomfortably in her saddle. She appeared nervous. “We’ll see the city just over that rise,” she said.
Why would she be nervous?
After glancing once at me, she urged her horse over to the captain’s and began to speak softly. I wanted to hear what they were saying and followed after.
We reached the top of the rise.
Looking down, I took in a sharp breath. The city of Partheney waited below. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight.
The city stretched for leagues, but it spread out around a hill, and at the top of the hill stood an enormous eight-tow
ered castle. Much of Partheney itself had no walls, as it had grown outward over the centuries. One section of the city—near the center—was walled, and there was a second wall around the castle itself. Not far west of the city, the ocean spread to the horizon. I had never seen the sea.
Captain Reynaud appeared to be weighing a decision.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He looked back at me. “Since the princess was abducted, anyone seen with her might be taken for the culprits. Riding all the way through the city for the castle could be risky.”
Well, we couldn’t sit out here forever. “What do you suggest?”
Turning his torso to look back, he called out, “Rufus!”
A stocky young guard nudged his horse into a trot and came to join us.
“Go down into the city, and go to the guards up at the castle gate. Tell them what’s happened, that we’ve recovered the princess and have them send us an escort.”
“Yes, sir.”
The guardsman was off like a shot, cantering down toward the city. Again, I was grateful for Reynaud’s steady head. His precaution was wise. Or…had this been Ashton’s idea?
We waited.
I expected our escort from the castle to take a while, but in a surprisingly short time, fifteen horses came galloping out of the main entrance to the city, nearly flying up the road toward us. As they grew nearer, I could see that except for one man, they all wore chain armor and tabards of light blue and yellow—the king’s colors.
The leader wore a sleeveless tunic. His hair was dark. He rode like a demon, pushing his horse to its limits.
Ashton’s nervousness increased to open anxiety.
“My brother,” she said.
A jolt ran through me. That was the king? He’d come out himself and was riding in the lead?
Quickly, Ashton dismounted and ran a few steps ahead. When she turned back, her face shone with open fear.
