Heart's Demand (38 page)

“What is our option? We’re being watched every second. I can’t sneeze without it being reported to Dmitri.”

“I can move more freely than you. They think I’m a child, so they don’t pay attention to me.”

“So what? You can wander about the palace, but if we tried to escape, he’d capture us, imprison us, then he’d wed Isabelle. We can’t take a risk.”

“We can run away again. We can hide. I know it! We must have some friends somewhere in the world.”

“Who?” she bleakly inquired. “Who is our friend? Name one person.”

“Mr. Blair.”

She shook her head. “If he cared about us at all, Nicholas, don’t you expect he’d have shown up by now?”

“Maybe he suffered a mishap and couldn’t come.”

Looking pained, she admitted, “We quarreled, Nicholas. Before I left Cairo, he and I fought bitterly. He won’t come. He believes I wouldn’t want him to.”

“Oh.” It was the most distressing news yet.

For months, Nicholas had been scanning the faces in the markets, on the streets, hoping he’d see Mr. Blair. The prospect that he wouldn’t arrive, that he didn’t care, seemed the worst blow of all.

“I’ll think of a plan,” he firmly stated. “We have three more days.”

“I won’t have you scheming with traitors. Kristof would hear about it, and you’d get yourself in trouble over me.”

“I don’t understand your reasoning, Kat. You’d shackle yourself to that usurping swine to help
me
, but you won’t permit me to help
you
. How is it different?”

“I am your staunchest ally, and I will always do what I feel is best to protect you. Of course I would wed him if it will keep you safe.”

“Well, I would do anything to keep you safe too.” He scowled. “How can you suppose I wouldn’t?”

“Let it go, Nicholas.”

“I absolutely won’t, Katarina. If I have to kill him in order to prevent this, then I shall.”

He stormed out, and though she called to him, he didn’t stop. There were guards waiting for him in the hall, which was odd. They claimed they were to escort him to Kristof, but their keen focus unnerved him. He never had guards following him and couldn’t imagine why they suddenly would.

As they marched in lock-step behind him, he groused and complained, telling them he wasn’t a little boy and didn’t need a nanny. Ultimately they backed away so he could continue on his own. He ambled along, pretending he was headed to Kristof, but once he was out of their sight, he went in the exact opposite direction.

Clearly mischief was brewing. Dmitri had demanded he meet with Kristof immediately, and he’d been so intent on it that he’d positioned sentries at Katarina’s door. Without a doubt Nicholas had to figure out what was occurring.

He had to locate Isabelle too, had to be certain she was safe, then they’d find a place to hide until they could unravel the danger confronting them.

He wasn’t sure where she’d be, but it was market day so there were hundreds of merchants selling their wares outside the palace gates. Isabelle liked to converse with the vendors, liked to chat with people from faraway lands so she could practice the languages she knew.

He walked out and started up and down the rows, searching for her at the various stalls. It was very busy, and she could be anywhere, so it was a great surprise when a merchant said, “Young Mr. Webster, might I interest you in some items from Egypt?”

Nicholas whipped around. A man was there, dressed in traveling clothes and seated by himself. He’d laid a blanket on the ground and had pieces of brightly-colored silk fabric arranged on top of it.

He was wearing a knitted cap, a wool cape over his shoulders. He’d grown a bit of a beard, and his hair was darker, but it was his blue, blue eyes that gave him away.

“Mr. Blair?” He mouthed the name to conceal it from passersby.

“Yes,” Mr. Blair murmured. “I was hoping you’d stroll by. I didn’t dare come into the palace looking for you.”

Nicholas sidled over so he was standing slightly behind Mr. Blair and shielded by his body. He whispered, “I’m so glad to see you.”

Mr. Blair whispered too. “I can definitely say the same.”

“I’ve been waiting for you. I’d begun to suppose you’d never arrive.”

“I had a spot of trouble when I was leaving Cairo, or I’d have been here much sooner.”

Nicholas frowned. There was a scar on his cheek and a brace on his wrist. Not his sword arm, thank goodness. “What happened to you?”

“Some of Captain Romilard’s men tried to kill me after you left.”

Nicholas’s fury soared. “Did they?”

“Yes, but they didn’t succeed.”

“I’m delighted to hear it. While you’re visiting, we’ll have to give Captain Romilard a chance to decide he’s sorry.”

“I was thinking the same.”

They both grinned, and Mr. Blair said, “There’s gossip swirling that a royal wedding will be held in three days. I guess the sudden date is a shock. Everyone’s talking about it.”

“It’s a huge shock. My sister is quite vexed. She thought she’d have until spring to devise a scheme to avoid it.”

“But she’s not married yet, is she?”

“No, and if I have my way, she won’t be. Not to Kristof.
Never
to Kristof.”

Nicholas had observed Mr. Blair with Katarina. They’d been very friendly, but it had been Isabelle who’d pointed out they were in love. It would take a girl to notice such a thing, but after she’d explained the situation, he’d noted their affection too.

If Katarina married anyone, she should marry Mr. Blair. And Nicholas didn’t care that Mr. Blair wasn’t royal. He wanted his sister to be happy. He wanted all of them to be happy.

There was a bit of a commotion in the crowd, and Nicholas glanced up to see guards approaching. Four of them marched by, with Isabelle in the center. She didn’t appear to be having any difficulty, but obviously they were escorting her somewhere.

He nearly called out to her, but Mr. Blair squeezed his leg, urging him to silence.

The group kept on and vanished into the throng, so very quickly there was no sign that Isabelle had passed by.

“Where are they taking her?” Mr. Blair asked, lowering his voice even more.

“I don’t know, but they just tried to force me to go with them too. I snuck away.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“I need to get away from the palace. Could you help me?”

“Of course.” Mr. Blair didn’t turn around. “I have a room at an inn in the village. We’ll pretend you’re my son. No one will question it.”

Very discreetly, he slid off his knitted cap, and he handed it to Nicholas. Nicholas pulled it on, covering much of his face. Mr. Blair riffled through a satchel and found a wool sweater, and he handed that back as well. It was too long and too big, but Nicholas tugged it on, and in an instant, he might have been an apprentice out making deliveries.

Mr. Blair stood and stretched. “I’m cold and hungry.” He spoke a tad louder so people could hear. “I’ve had enough of selling for now. Let’s eat a hot dinner, and we’ll come back later. Maybe the shoppers will open their purses by then.”

“Yes, Father,” Nicholas said.

He snatched up the silk fabrics and stuffed them into the satchel. Then he picked up the blanket, and they folded it together as if they’d done it a thousand times prior. Nicholas carried the blanket, while Mr. Blair hoisted the satchel over his shoulder. He laid a palm on the small of Nicholas’s back, guiding him down the narrow, busy street.

In a flash Nicholas was free and away and once again being protected by Mr. Blair. He felt safer and more secure than he had in many, many months.

*   *   *   *

The door to Kat’s chamber burst open, and Dmitri stormed in with a gaggle of guards behind him.

She’d been sitting in the corner, staring out the window, watching a light dusting of snowflakes drift by. Her women were knitting, playing games, but she was ignoring them. She was practically dizzy with plotting as to how to evade the marital noose that was choking her, and she couldn’t abide more bickering with Dmitri.

She wondered if he understood the punishments he’d have to endure should his beloved Kristof die or lose the throne. Kat and her two siblings had suffered such insult and offense from Dmitri. Did he recognize the perilous spot in which he’d placed himself?

He was an idiot, so probably not, but he ought to pray each and every night that Kristof lived to be a very old man.

“Where is your brother?” he demanded.

“I have no idea. Last I saw of him, he was on his way to Kristof. I assume that’s where he went.”

“He did not arrive.”

“My brother is thirteen now, as he constantly reminds me. I’m sure he’s off enjoying his own pursuits, and he’ll attend Kristof when he’s good and ready. But he
will
attend him. I can’t imagine why you’re in such a dither about it.”

“Where is your brother?” He bellowed the question.

Her ladies shifted uneasily, anxiously glancing at Kat, at Dmitri. With each passing day, palace affairs grew more tense, civil unrest more apparent. Dmitri’s sour mood provided stark evidence that people weren’t happy.

Kat rose very slowly, and Princess Morovsky surged to the fore. For too much of her life, she’d been meek and obsequious, so Dmitri regularly forgot who he was and who
she
was.

She sidled over until they were toe to toe. He was taller than she was, and he was a bully who liked to lord himself over others. Too bad for him but he would never be in a position to boss her, despite how he wished he could.

“Get out of my chamber,” she furiously said.

“I will not leave until you tell me where you’ve hidden him.”

“I swear, Dmitri, you are more deranged by the second.”

“We have your sister,” he spat.

She kept her expression carefully blank. “You
have
Isabelle. What is that supposed to mean to me?”

“She will be the King’s insurance that the festivities proceed smoothly.”

Kat smirked. So Kristof was nervous was he? So Kristof was afraid Kat wouldn’t behave as he’d commanded her? Good. Let the stupid ass fret and fuss.

“Am I to presume,” she asked, “that you’re looking for His Royal Highness, the Prince of Parthenia, for the same reason? You and your paltry men are to keep him under lock and key?”

She barked the words, wanting all the spectators to hear her. Gossip about the incident would flow through the halls the minute Dmitri left.

“Yes, he will be locked in too,” Dmitri admitted. “No matter where you’ve concealed him, we will find him.”

“Is the King arresting them? My siblings are to be imprisoned—three days before my wedding?”

Behind her, several of her women tittered with affront, and Dmitri finally realized he was being a fiend, that rumors would spread like wildfire.

“No one is arresting them,” he firmly stated.

“You couldn’t prove it by me. Where have you taken my sister?”

“She’s in her rooms.”

“But she’s not free to leave?”

“Well…ah…”

“Get out of here,” she repeated. “I order you to go to my sister. Inform her that I will be there at once to check on her condition. She had better be fine.”

“Or what, Your Grace?”

“You don’t think I can do anything to you, do you? You view yourself as being so powerful and so smart. Shortly I’ll be your queen.”

“I don’t serve you, Your Grace. I serve my king.”

“As I serve mine,” she seethed, and she shouted, “Get out!”

“Listen to me, woman.”

“It’s Your. Royal. Highness.”

She started to spin away, and he had the audacity to reach out and, for just an instant, it appeared that he would lay a hand on her. Everyone, including his men, was aghast at the breach of protocol. He noted the frowns, and his arm dropped to his side.

He glared at her, his hatred exhausting, and she couldn’t figure out why he disliked her so much. Before the coup, she’d always been courteous to him. Her father had always been kind. Somehow she’d made an enemy, but she wasn’t bothered over it.

This was a battle she had every intention of winning.

“Your Grace,” he said with a tight smile, “I can see your brother is not with you. We will search for him elsewhere.”

He huffed out, his retinue trailing after him like trained puppies. Kat went the other direction, into her bedchamber where she could close the door.

“What to do? What to do?” she murmured to herself as she paced.

Isabelle was detained, and Nicholas was missing. She was so weary of Parthenia, and she was ready to depart and never return. Could she sneak away? Nicholas wanted to, but with him and Isabelle being watched so meticulously, it would be more difficult than ever to flee.

She’d been dawdling for months, trying to devise a plan, but in all actuality she’d been hoping Bryce would come, expecting Bryce would come. She absolutely could not believe that he’d forsaken her, but apparently he had, and she couldn’t keep waiting for him to arrive and rescue her. She had to rescue herself. She had to rescue Nicholas and Isabelle.

She would not and could not marry Kristof. She would find a way out of the palace, out of the city, out of the country. She and her siblings would run so far and so fast that not even the hounds of Hell would be able to catch them. They would continue until they found a safe place, and they wouldn’t stop until they did.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“I need to sneak into the palace,” Bryce said, “but I won’t leave you here by yourself.”

Bryce looked over at Nicholas. They were in Bryce’s rented room, discussing their options. Nicholas was eager to depart Parthenia once and for all, and Bryce was happy to take him, but first they had to rescue Isabelle and Kat.

With Bryce not having any friends to serve as back-up, and his one arm not as strong as it had been, he wasn’t certain how he’d manage. If they had to stand and fight, it would be over quickly, and Bryce would only have made matters worse.

Nicholas was a fine boy who would grow to be a fine man, and Bryce was glad Valois had convinced him to travel to Parthenia. Even if he never managed to speak with Kat, he was relieved to know Nicholas had been watching for Bryce to arrive. He hadn’t let Nicholas down, and he would try very hard to always live up to Nicholas’s high expectations.