by D. L. Boyles
“That does take the fun out of it, doesn’t it?” The Hunter emerged from the shadows near her horse, just as silent and dark, formless beneath his ever-present cloak. “You look…well, I cannot say that I do not like you looking like a fine lady, but that dress does not suit you.”
She snorted. “Yet again, you are in need of refining your flattery, good sir.” He was right, however. She’d taken the advice of the city seamstress and allowed the woman too much freedom with the layers of material and its flounces. The overall effect made her look like her arms and shoulders were swollen. Not to mention that pastel colors rarely complimented her pale complexion.
“And you are in need of reminding that I am neither good nor a gentleman.”
She shook her head, rolling her eyes, her senses feeling clouded. “Why are you here? Have you come to finally kill me?”
“I’ve been told it’s the perfect opportunity.”
“Then do your worst. I’ll not fight you this time.”
He clicked his tongue. “Where has that fiery spirit of yours gone? Do not tell me that you’re mourning over the loss of your lover? I hear the stable boy has left…for green pastures.”
“Do not pretend that you had nothing to do with it. I know that you were watching him that night, not me.”
“That’s where you are wrong. I was watching both of you. Though, I admit, I was watching you for my own curiosity and he was nothing more than a job.”
“Someone else the queen wished you to kill? Let’s not pretend you have other…skills she’s interested in.”
The Hunter laughed but turned his attention to her horse, scratching behind the mare’s ear. Snow wished she could see his face just once. Something more than a shadowy chin and the faintest outline of his jaw.
“Will you be leaving Wessix now?” he asked.
“Why? Do you think you will miss me when I go?”
He looked from her horse back to her. She could feel his eyes boring into hers even if she could not see them. “I wish for you to leave. I let you live once. Twice, actually. Three times if you count the time in the alley. Generally, the third time is the charm, but in this case, I worry it will be the fourth.”
“You worry about having to kill me? How unusual for a hunter.” She could barely hide the disdain in her voice.
“The only thing unusual about me is the fact that I have not killed you yet,” he said.
“You may do so now if you wish. I give you permission and I have already told you that I will not put up a fight.”
He took a step towards her and when she did not flinch, he took three more. He could have easily reached her with his sword, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood before her, his head moving side to side in study, his gaze obscured by that ridiculous hood.
“I’ve no wish to kill you, and before you ask, I have no answer. Just know that I do not.” He let out a little whistle and a gray dappled stallion with near-black stockings trotted forward. Its markings gave it the look of a shadow, and its graceful movements reminded her of The Hunter himself. Pulling himself up into the saddle, his hooded face turned to her once more. “You should leave Wessix, little rabbit. Whatever it was that frightened you away before is still there now.”
“You frightened me away before,” she reminded him.
“If that is what you believe, I cannot change your mind. But we both know it was something more.”
“And are you off to do more of your queen’s bidding?”
He shook his head. “She is not my queen, just someone to whom a debt is owed. I’ve given her just payment for now, so I am leaving. Which is something I suggest you do very soon.” He flicked his heels lightly against his horse’s sides and it began stepping forward, inching towards her. She stepped back and angled her head up to look at him, hopeful that from this angle she might see his face. “They’ve not discovered you yet, but I would hate to see someone else finish a job that I have been contracted to do.”
“I thought you said you don’t want to kill me?”
“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean that someone else will not or that eventually, I won’t.”
Then, with a click of his tongue, he and his horse disappeared into the dark. As he left, she felt an emptiness more acute than she’d felt on the walk here. No one had recognized her today, but it’d been an odd comfort knowing that The Hunter knew who she was—or at the very least, knew of her. While she’d roamed the streets of the city, she had expected him to be watching her and thought he was at times. Now, he was leaving, and a sad loneliness settled upon her. There was no one left in Wessix who would recognize her at all. She would take his advice; she would leave. It was even harder this time than it had been before.
Chapter Six
A Little Bit of Reality and Intrigue
Audora had no desire whatsoever to sit through a boring, formal dinner, nor did she wish to attend a ball, yet her mother flit about the castle as though everything was right with the world, preparing for both events.
“Don’t look so upset, Princess Audora,” Rebecca said, clicking her tongue. “There will be plenty of gentlemen to dance with this evening. You will not even miss that stable boy or guard by the end of it all.”
To the surprise of both Audora and Rebecca, Sloane’s hand slapped hard across Rebecca’s face. “And you will need extra powder to hide that mark,” Sloane snapped at her. “Now shut your mouth, Rebecca.” Rebecca began to cry as quickly as her face swelled. “And don’t pretend you didn’t deserve it.”
Jumping to her feet, Rebecca dashed out the door, dropping her embroidery as she went.
“That was—”
“—Do not side with her, Princess, in something you know nothing about,” Sloane snapped at her, which was very unusual. Typically, her barbed comments were quietly reserved for only Audora to understand and not so blatantly obvious. Audora was about to question her when her mother came into the room, the typical entourage on her tail.
“There you are!” It was no surprise that Audora was in her private quarters; she’d been here the past three days from waking to sleep… if she actually slept. “I’ve come to inform you that Prince Griffin will be here soon.” The queen looked around the room without really paying close attention to anything but Audora’s dress. “You cannot possibly wish to wear that. It is black and gray and completely inappropriate for greeting the crown prince of Ahmil.”
“I’ve no intentions of greeting the prince, Mother. I’m still in mourning.” Audora returned her focus to the book she was holding. That book went lurching across the room suddenly when her mother slapped it from her hands.
“Do not talk back to me, Audora.” Her mother’s voice was stern and the look on her face cruel. “King William is expecting his son to be greeted as his heir and proxy.”
“What has that to do with me?” Audora huffed.
Her mother’s face appeared pinched. “You will entertain him, Audora, in an attempt to woo him. You may have no desire to find your true love, but it is still an aim of mine. Besides, if we wish for him to sign your father’s treaty, a little feminine persuasion would not be out of line.” Queen Isadora looked to Sloane who, for the first time since Audora could remember, did not even crack a smile in the queen’s direction. “It seems your melancholy mood is contagious, daughter.” She snapped her fingers. “I will be expecting you both downstairs in an hour.”
As soon as her mother and all of her dutiful followers vanished, Audora sighed and stomped her foot in outrage. “I have no desire to see Prince Garrett.”
“Prince Griffin.”
“Whatever. I don’t want to meet him. I’m perfectly content right here in my room.”
Sloane tossed her embroidery onto the sofa beside her and stood up. “You are so ridiculous. Every eligible bachelor west of the Candes has been flocking to your doorstep since you came of age. One after another after another, bowing down and doing whatever your mother wants all for the opportunity to meet you. They all want to be th
e hero, the one who can break your curse. Yet, you look down on all of them. You trailed around behind some sorry stable boy for years only to make a fool of yourself with him and move on to try and dig your claws into Florian—the one person in all of Shadoria who genuinely wanted no part of being the hero— and you got him murdered.”
“How dare you speak to me like this!” Audora clenched her hands into fists. “You know nothing about my feelings for Captain Florian.”
“I may not, but you knew nothing about his feelings for you either. He thought you foolish and childish.”
Audora was so mad she spit when she shouted, “And how would you know?”
“Because he told me.” Sloane’s jaw slammed together so fast and with such force, there was an audible chomping sound that echoed through the room. “If you will excuse me, Princess Audora, I must get changed. I wouldn’t want to keep Prince Griffin,” she said emphasizing his correct name, “waiting.”
Audora didn’t understand the reason for Sloane’s outbursts. She should have put her in her place or had her forcibly removed from her room, at the very least, removed from her service. However rude she was, her words resonated a fraction of truth. It was her fault. Florian was dead because of her and Peter a fugitive because she didn’t know her own heart.
Stomping into her dressing room, she plopped down on the small bench in front of the vanity mirror. With a flick of her finger, she poked her reflection on the forehead. “You are a fool, Audora, an absolute fool.”
Mostly, she was a fool because she obeyed her mother’s wishes and, despite the fact that no maids were sent to help her, regardless of her summons, she managed to arrive downstairs on time and looked presentable enough. She’d barely made it into the room before Prince Griffin was announced. As always, her parents greeted him first then introduced her. Sloane, looking oddly subdued in a pastel pink dress, flashed a forced smile in the prince’s direction. Whatever was going on with Sloane, her personality was much affected.
Audora somehow managed to sit through the exchanged niceties without bursting into tears. Her emotions were all over the place and one minute, she was genuinely laughing at the Ahmilian prince who was, without a doubt, the most animated storyteller she’d ever met, and the next, sorrow was piercing her heart so that she barely noticed the man. It was in the throes of her heart that the prince’s words struck her, adding to the pain and confusion so confoundedly that a gasp escaped her lips and turned immediately into a sob and flowed naturally into an uncontrollable wailing.
Her mother’s mortification sent Sloane dutifully in Audora’s direction, hauling her apologetically from the room. But Audora caught the flash of alarm on Prince Griffin’s face before he schooled his features and turned back to the king and queen.
∞∞∞
Audora spent the rest of the day in her room. In fact, her mother relented and allowed Audora to take her evening meal there as well; though, she was certain it had more to do with how her earlier outburst embarrassed the queen than it did Audora’s feelings. She wouldn’t complain. Staying in her room was just fine by her. Peter had been the only enticement to leave for so long she could scarcely determine how to spend her time beyond these walls. And Florian…She still shivered and felt sick to her stomach when she considered what had become of him. She’d taken him for granted all this time, had just assumed his familiar face was meant to always be there for her, his silent watches and his occasional words of wisdom were all things she expected from him and had come to rely on. Even the moments when she dashed around the castle in an attempt to escape his watchful eye, she always knew in the back of her mind that he would find her. Now, he was gone and Audora could hardly make any sense of it or the emotions roiling through her.
Maybe it was all just a dream, a nightmare she needed to wake up from. She stood and opened the door to the hallway. Three guards turned to look at her, which made her lower lip tremble. No, it was real. Florian was not there. Offering them no explanation, she slammed the door in their faces and flung herself onto the floor, not even bothering to find a more comfortable place to cry.
Tears and sobs wore her down emotionally and drained her physically. The castle grew quiet and she vaguely heard footsteps in the hallway indicating a change in guards. Still, she did not move. Not even when footsteps sounded in her room or when she knew there were boots only inches from her face. It wasn’t until she was hauled to her feet and brought face-to-face with Prince Griffin that she realized her bedroom door never opened.
“What are you doing in here?” she whined, sobs still wracking her body.
“Why are you crying? Why has your mother locked you away from me, I wonder?” Away from him? No, her mother had locked her away from everyone, not because she wanted to keep her away from a man, but because she was embarrassed by her.
Audora tipped her head back, about to tell him as much, but she got lost in his eyes. Prince Griffin was taller than she remembered, and his eyes were a strange color of yellow. Audora’s breath sucked in so hard on a sob that her lower lip half-choked her and she stuttered out an exhale right in the prince’s face. He scrunched up his face and angled himself away from her a little.
“What do you know of Prince Lionel?” he asked.
Audora’s tears renewed. There was no reason for them, but an agonizing emotion gripped her so tightly she couldn’t escape it. “I don’t know anything. He was here for my birthday ball. Then, he was gone.”
“I’ve heard rumors that you were with him, that the two of you had a late-night rendezvous.”
She shook her head, still being held firmly in place by the prince. “It was just rumors. I was not with him at all. In fact, I never even saw him at the ball.”
“Then, where were you?” Audora began sobbing again and Prince Griffin angrily shook her as if that would make her stop. “Where were you?” he growled.
“With Pe…” she couldn’t even finish saying his name.
Prince Griffin rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, tossing her back down to the floor with little concern for the hard surface connecting so quickly with her body. She heard him shuffling around her room as she struggled to sit upright. He appeared to be searching for something.
“What are you doing? How did you get into my room, anyway?” He ignored her, lifting the edge of her rug and tapping across the floor with the toe of his boot. “Prince Griffin. What. Are. You. Doing?”
He glanced over his shoulder at her, pushing a tapestry aside and pressing his hands against the wall. “I was sent here to find out what happened to Prince Lionel. Whatever treaty your parents wish signed by Ahmil will not be done so long as you have him.”
“Have him?” Audora rubbed her eyes then blinked hard to clear her vision. “He left.”
“Is that what he told you? That he was leaving?”
She contemplated it a moment, but had to admit to Prince Griffin that Prince Lionel had never indicated he needed to leave. One moment he was there and the next…he was gone.
“And that didn’t seem strange to you?” he asked.
“Honestly, I was busy with other matters.”
After giving her room further inspection, Prince Griffin finally settled onto the edge of a chair and stared down at her. “Maybe you could tell me what you remember.”
It wasn’t much, but she told him all she could recall of seeing Prince Lionel and what they spoke of. As soon as she finished, he stood, and as silently as he appeared, he was gone. Audora stared at the secret passageway he used; the same one she used to sneak around. How had he known that was there?
None of their interaction made any sense to Audora and the more she tried to consider it, the worse she felt. Not only had she a role to play in Florian’s death, but she was also the cause for Peter’s departure and now, possibly Prince Lionel’s potential disappearance.
∞∞∞
“I see you’ve taken my advice.”
Snow wasn’t surprised to see him, not with her internal radar sensing
his presence before he revealed himself. It was becoming more than a little concerning that she was able to so easily sense this male and she wished more than anything that she couldn’t. And it was bad enough that her insides warmed whenever he was nearby, but now her dagger warmed at his presence, a slight vibrating irritation at her ankle.
“Are you following me?” she asked.
He shrugged, still wearing that ridiculous cloak and hood. It was hot outside even as they edged closer to the pass through the Candes Mountains. There was snow at the tops of the mountains but where they sat now, it was humid and warm, a curse that reminded her of her failure.
“We happen to be going in the same direction, is all.”
She harrumphed. “I doubt that.”
“Tell me where you are headed, then, and I will tell you if it is the same.”
Now, she laughed aloud. “You expect me to tell you where I am going? What? So that it will be easier for you to kill me?”
Uninvited, he squatted down across from her at her fire where she was cooking a rabbit. “If I wanted to kill you, I could have done so last night while you were sleeping.”
Her skin crawled with his revelation. Then, without warning, he stood and strode towards her, walking right through the fire, and yanked her to her feet. She shivered with anticipation, fully expecting that he was going to kill her, and her treacherous body refused to react against him.
“Why do my insides tingle with awareness when I am near you?” he whispered. She focused on that strong jaw of his, wishing she could reach up and brush her fingers across it, push that hood away and reveal his face to her.
“Why do I want to know you?” she asked in return.
She watched his jaw shift. “Do you?” He was grinning and she caught the faintest glimpse of his lower lip. Without even knowing what she was doing or why, she reached up and touched it. That lip turned down into a frown immediately with a hissed inhalation, and he shifted so suddenly that her neck whipped back. He held her away from him, his hands tightening on her biceps. “Why did you do that?”
