Princess at Sea (49 page)

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Authors: Dawn Cook

BOOK: Princess at Sea
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“He knows that already,” I whispered, thinking of Duncan. Had it all been a game to him or had he loved me . . . just a little less than he loved his money? The wind rose, rattling the leaves. I shivered, listening to it mock me. “Contessa,” I asked hesitantly. “Could you tell . . . when you kissed Alex today . . . could you tell that he loved you? Like he loved Rosie?”
Her eyes dropped as she realized I had seen what she had done while playing Rosie under the deck of the pirates' ship. Shame showed in her slight motion. “Yes,” she whispered. “It was the same. He loves me.”
Contessa's eyes were wet as she turned to me. “I-I came to talk to them,” she said, her gaze flicking to the flat gravestones atop the manicured ground.
“Do you want me to leave?”
She shook her head solemnly, and I settled back. I watched, somewhat uncomfortable as she rose, and with the grace of a saint, knelt before the slabs of stone to look like one of Thadd's heartfelt statues among the hazy ribbons of fog.
How could it be wrong to love someone?
echoed her confused question in my thoughts.
How could it be wrong?
I turned my eyes from the sight of her lips moving in silent prayer. How indeed? But it certainly hadn't been right for me to have loved Duncan.
Had I loved him?
resounded in me, and while my heart ached in
yes,
I found a new anger accompanied it, anger that he had used me for gain, anger that I had blinded myself to him using a weapon to manipulate me that I was not prepared to use. The anger felt better than the hurt, and I fastened on it, watching the petals of the moonflowers tremble in a soft breeze. From my deeper thoughts, the wind laughed, urging me on. If it could make me angry enough, it knew I would lose control and it would have its freedom. It would have had it this afternoon if Jeck hadn't brought me back again. Its wheedling, conspiring prattle checked my anger, but I still felt my pulse quicken and my muscles tense.
No one had found Duncan. The searching sentries had located his empty rowboat only a short distance from the shack, and a potent rush shook my fingers when I realized he had probably heard me call for him and never returned. There had been an obvious track of heavily sunken footprints where he'd staggered, carrying the heavy satchels to two horses.
The horses' deep prints had led back into the water, where the outgoing tide had washed away every trace of them. I imagined one of the horses had probably been Tuck, Duncan's gelding. It would account for the animal's absence in the stables. Duncan had undoubtedly taken the second horse from the stables as well, stealing it when he had come to give us Rylan's demands, walking past the palace gates and sentries with them unquestioned, secure in that they trusted he wouldn't have two horses unless someone in the palace knew about it.
My teeth gritted, and I held my breath. Duncan had twisted my emotions so easily that night, playing upon my feelings, letting me believe that his life was in danger, that he was making a noble sacrifice. And because of that, I had deceived Kavenlow, making sure the ransom that Kavenlow wasn't going to give made it into Duncan's thieving hands. And he had done it all so easily.
Stupid, stupid,
I berated myself, but my heartache seemed to lessen as I accepted my failing for what it had been; I had been manipulated by someone using emotions I had thought were too sacred to sully with schemes. Never again. Not that it mattered.
The misty breeze lifted my singed hair, and I pulled my angry gaze away from the stark line the palace walls made against the sky. They were suddenly like the walls of delusion I had placed about myself to stay blind in my search for a happiness that I could never have. A wash of claustrophobia cascaded over me. I stood, heart pounding. From the shadows came Banner, pacing to me in a slow lope as he saw my need to move. I had to get out, get past the walls.
As I stared at the stone imprisoning me with an almost hungry fervor, I realized what Kavenlow had meant when he said I could make no lasting attachments. I had thought he meant that to do so would make me vulnerable as whomever I loved could be used against me. That the ones I loved would be in danger if a rival player knew they meant something to me and I would sacrifice my game to save them. But what it could also mean was that anyone I loved could use my emotions for his own gain. Just as Duncan had. “Bloody chu pits,” I whispered, feeling my breath shake as I exhaled. I finally understood. But it was understanding come too late.
Contessa's bowed head rose at my mild curse. “Tess?”
I took three quick steps to her, feeling unreal. She looked at me strangely when I bent to take her hands and pull her to her feet. “I have to go out for a bit,” I said, feeling the cold dampness of her fingers from the dew-wet grass.
Her eyes widened, almost unseen in the dark. “You're leaving the grounds?”
I nodded, giving her hands a little squeeze. “I can get past the gates all right, but I need you to tell Kavenlow or anyone who asks that I'm sulking somewhere and don't want to be disturbed.”
“You want me to lie?” she stammered, pulling away and putting a hand to her face. “Why?”
“Queens do have to lie occasionally,” I said roughly, anxious to be gone. “Otherwise, the world would always be at war.”
“I know that,” she snapped, meeting my ire with her own. “There's nothing wrong with a lie when it serves a good purpose and hurts no one, but I'm not going to do it unless I know why.”
Taken aback—and not sure I was entirely comfortable with her philosophy—I glanced behind her at the surrounding shrubbery. My eyes rose to the familiar walls enclosing the palace, then up and over them to the moon-hazed fog beyond. “I have to find Duncan.”
Twenty-eight
Head lowered against the mist, I trudged to the city gate,
immune to the joy rising from the spontaneous festival that swirled around me. It was well after sundown, but you wouldn't know it by the torches and fires that leapt in the very streets as people burned everything from tomorrow's cooking wood to straw from beds too old to be worth keeping in their celebration of the return of their queen and prince. The fog did nothing to dampen their mood, only serving to reflect the firelight and add a festive glow. Food and spirits were abundant and generously shared, but no one saw me. I felt disconnected, hearing but unable to share their happiness. I had to find Duncan. Until I did, nothing would have any meaning.
I had to confront him, had to tell him that I wasn't going to suffer because he didn't love me, that he had taught me I was stronger than that, that he was a liar and a thief, even if the only thing he stole was my trust. And that he couldn't hurt me anymore since his love was as worthless as a ladle of salt water.
Escaping the palace had been easy. I hadn't even needed to use my magic after I donned my too-short dress and Penelope's tattered shawl and boots to make the shift from the woman handing out sweets at the palace's front gate to the rabble taking advantage of the rare treat. My two black horses had come back earlier this afternoon along with one of the useless warships that had accompanied us on our disastrous voyage, and Jy's shod feet sounded comforting behind me as I led him through the streets.
A growing rattle and noise pulled me up short where the walk met the street. Jy blew nervously, and I clutched my cloak closer while people scattered. In a reckless swerve and shouting, a heavy coach draped with calling people thundered past, racing an overburdened city pony in a wild abandon. The surrounding people either cheered or cursed them before returning to their revelry. In six heartbeats, it was as if the coach had never existed, the street as full of people as it had been. Heart slowing, I shook myself from my numb mood before it killed me. Jy pushed his nose at me, shoving me almost into the street.
“Easy, Jy,” I said, holding his head and taking strength from his mist-damp warmth that smelled of hay and leather. Steadying myself, I checked the street to cross, my heart freezing at the faint but familiar sound of bells.
It was Rylan, clearly angry as he pushed through the noisy throng, his long faded coat covered by an oilcloth cloak and a squarish hat on his head. By his tight pace, it seemed he was looking for Duncan, probably of the mind that the cheat had risked the autonomy of the streets to spend a coin or two of his ill-gained money.
I took a breath to call attention to him only to collapse back in on myself. My head hurt from indecision. If I spent the effort to catch him, I'd lose my chance to talk to Duncan tonight. By tomorrow, he would be too far to track.
I sank back against Jy, using him to hide should the man look my way. If Rylan hadn't found Duncan here, then I was right in my guess that he was past the city's gates.
As soon as Rylan was swallowed up by the noisy conglomeration, I swung up onto Jy, ignoring the hoots and ribald remarks of the nearby men with too much to drink in them commenting upon the way I was riding. Face warming, I spun Jy into a tight two-legged turn, giving him my heels and his head. He took it, racing up the street in the wake of the racing coach.
The enthusiastic cries of the men watching soon faded, leaving me with only a blur of alcohol-reddened faces and yellow glows surrounding open fires. Snatches of music and conversations rose and fell. Familiar buildings came and went. Jy was nimble-footed and clever, showing his warhorse training as he dodged people and carts without direction, eager for the chance to run.
Crouched low on his back, I leaned into the turn when Jy—his metal-shod hooves clattering on the cobbles—all but slid around the corner and onto the street leading to the eastern gate. It was open ahead of me, with the guards clustered about their warming fire in relaxed talk. I knew I could pass them with minimal effort if I stopped to talk, but I didn't. The need to find Duncan consumed me, and I raced past the guardhouse and into the night, trailing good-natured salutations and admonishments to slow down or I would break my horse's leg.
Free of the thousand voices the city sheltered, I felt my mind expand. The thumps of Jy's hooves were like my heartbeat. His lungs seemed to breathe for me. I was a spot of stillness atop his back, poised between yesterday and today, unable to live until I spoke with Duncan and settled in my thoughts what scar his betrayal would leave on me.
He never loved you,
the voice in my head mocked, stirred to wakefulness by the wind of my passage. I shoved it down where I couldn't hear it, but it surfaced again, floating upward like bubbles slipping around my fingers.
He never loved you. You'll never find him. Never find him. Never find him.
Jy carried me into the more certain dark under the trees, his hooves taking up the litany. I closed my eyes and rode with no direction, the wind laughing in a demented glee. It knew it had me. It was going to drive me insane. I was halfway there, riding my horse at a breakneck speed into the woods on a trail that led to nowhere.
Frustration tightened my chest, and my jaw clenched. The wind in my thoughts slipped my control, inciting the breeze in the branches to grow. “Then you find him!” I shouted at it, and Jy's pace faltered.
My breath caught at the wash of sly contriving the wind met me with. It could. It could find him . . . if I freed it.
Heart pounding, I sat straighter. Jy felt my weight shift, and we came to a jostling halt under the trees quicker than I would have imagined. The sudden lack of movement sent a rush of sensation through me as the trees and darkness closed in to become real again. The frog song seemed to burst from nowhere. The sound of Jy's breathing and the soft thumps of his feet as he moved in place were loud. Hidden behind the trees was a hazy spot of white, the only evidence of the moon.
Holding the reins tight, I sat on the riding pad and stared at the nothing that surrounded me. My lungs took the damp air in as if I were the one who had run here, not Jy, and fear slid its fingers about my heart and squeezed. I had to find Duncan. I was going to free the wind.
Jy sensed my nervousness and pranced in place. I sent a calming thought into him, reminding him he was a warhorse and to be still. Under me, I felt his body slip into a relaxed wariness. His hooves stilled and his head rose high. His body under me expanded and relaxed as he breathed, his nostrils flaring as he took in the heavy night and became still and unmoving.
The wind in my head picked up where Jy left off. It cajoled, promising everything, denying nothing. It gibbered in anticipation of its freedom, and I sat with my head bowed and fastened my will about it and squeezed with the passion of my anger.
It yelped and shattered into a thousand zephyrs that screamed like banshees as they whirled and flew about inside my head, battering me.
You,
I thought, grasping one with my will.
I'll free you. You will find Duncan and return to me.

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