The Decoy Princess (31 page)

Numb, I shook my head and set my cup aside. Thadd and Duncan were hunched over the princess, trying to soothe her as she sat by the wagon in tear-strewn hysterics. Kavenlow’s neck was stiff, and he refused to look at her as he took my elbow and hustled me down the dark path.

I settled into his pace, pulled into matching him stride for stride. It was comforting, his hurried gait, which he had often strode about the garden with. The realization he chose to walk with me in the dark rather than console the princess was more of a comfort than it should be.

“I’m sorry, Tess,” he said as soon as we were out of earshot.

“Don’t call me that. It’s
her
name,” I said, scraping up enough feeling to put some weight behind it. “I don’t even have my own name.”

He harrumphed. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You have your own name. I gave it to you. The king and queen christened her after you, adding to it to get Contessa.”

It was a small thing, but I fastened on it greedily. Kavenlow had named me? I had been named first?

Then my shoulders slumped. What did it matter, really?

“If I could do it over, I would have told you before I left,” he said.

“Tell me what?” I said bitterly. “That I’m a whore’s get or that you’re a player?”

Kavenlow gripped my arm and pulled us to a stop. “H-how…” he stammered, his white face a blur in the chill darkness under the trees. “Who told you that?”

His surprise gave me strength. So it was true. Jeck hadn’t lied. “You’re a player,” I said, trying to pull away only to find his grip tighten. “That’s all I am to you, a piece in a game.”

“Who?” Kavenlow demanded, but his anger wasn’t directed at me. “Who told you?”

“Jeck,” I said. “The captain—”

“—of King Edmund’s guard,” he interrupted. “What else did he say?” he demanded.

His fervor shocked me, and I took a step back, still in his grip. “That you control Costenopolie,” I said, suddenly afraid. “That he controls Misdev. That there are more of you, and the rule of the kings and queens are a sham that even they don’t know—”

“The fool!” Kavenlow exclaimed, wire-tight as he dropped my arm.

My eyes widened. I had never seen Kavenlow this angry. Except the time I hid in the palace well and couldn’t get myself out. I had shouted myself hoarse before Heather found me. “It wasn’t Jeck’s fault,” I said, only wanting him to calm. “He thought I was a player, seeing as I downed him with darts and escaped right under his nose. He didn’t tell me anything once he knew I wasn’t one, but I pieced it together from what he didn’t say as much as what he did. And with the note I found hanging in the ‘safe’

tree—”

A flash of pride crossed him, banishing his anger. “You found it. I knew you would.”

“How could I not?” I said bitterly. “You trained me like a dog to find it. Bent my life for escape and murder. You made me fit for nothing but frivolous games and dealing out death, and I’m not even good at it.
Why didn’t you tell me
?” I exclaimed, desperate for answers.

His head bowed, he started slowly up the path. “I couldn’t,” he said as I followed him. “There was a chance the real heir wouldn’t live to see her coronation, and you’d be put on the throne. I couldn’t risk that happening with you knowing who you are.”

“Why?” I asked, angry as I paced beside him.

Pain crossed his brow. “If you reached the throne knowing you were destined to be a player, I would have broken one of the strongest-held rules of the game. A player can’t sit on the throne. It would give them too strong an advantage. The rest would have banded together and swamped us until there was nothing left of Costenopolie but a tattered flag hidden under a straw mattress.” He frowned. “Just building your resistance to the venom was a risk, but one I was willing to chance. The danger was minimal until Captain Jeck fouled it.”

My arms swung in quick, short motions as I paced beside him. “My entire life has been a game for you,” I said caustically. “All of it.”

Kavenlow avoided a low branch and my eyes both. “Aye,” he said, “a game, Tess, but a very real, complex, deadly game, and I’d like to make you a willing participant.”

“Then you admit you used me! I’m nothing but a pawn to you!”

He drew me to a stop, his eyes pained. “You’re not a pawn. I made you a thief. The most powerful piece in the game. The only one not of noble birth that can take the king.”

“A thief! Don’t you mean an assassin?” My breath caught, and I turned away, refusing to cry again. I was frustrated, angry, and very confused.

“Tess…” Taking my hands, he led me off the path to a fallen tree. I sat stiffly, listening to the frogs, unwilling to look at him, as I was sure whatever he might say would be a lie. Jeck was right. How could I ever trust Kavenlow again?

Still standing, he ran a hand down his beard in thought. “When the first assassin gained the princess’s chambers, the queen asked me to find a child,” he said.

“Me,” I said, though it sounded much like a sob. My head hurt, and I held my breath.

“You were one of three that I found that day and took behind palace walls,” he said, not sounding at all repentant for it.

“Who were they, my real parents?” I managed.

The darkness hid his eyes. “I don’t know. I found you with a woman who took you mewling from your dead mother’s arms two days previous. I had no intention of finding my successor, but you were strong, Tess. Clinging to your short life as tight as a soldier. I lost myself to you the moment I held you.”

“How much silver?” I said bitterly, determined to know my worth.

“I don’t remember.”

“Yes, you do.”

He hesitated. “Enough for a loaf of bread,” he said, and I made a helpless moan. “I don’t know my parentage either,” he said, trying to catch my gaze. “No player does. I came from the docks. My mother was a tavern wench and my father probably a sailor.”

I sniffed, miserable. I didn’t want to hear any more. None of it.

Kavenlow took my chin and turned me to him. The lines of his face were softened by shadow. “The king and queen bought you, Tess, but I stole you from them.” He made a short, unhappy laugh. “Perhaps it is more accurate to say you stole me. I was completely unprepared.”

My eyes rose to his, and I saw the love in him.

“You were so clever and bright,” he said with a faint smile. “You were the daughter I could never have. And when you survived the assassin’s darts that killed the others?” His smile turned full with a soft memory. “That was when I convinced the queen the only way to insure her daughter’s survival would be to send her away. I had found my apprentice, and I would have her raised with all the skills and grace of a princess.”

“Apprentice?” I whispered, my hope almost painful.

“The king and queen are legally your parents, but I raised you, Tess,” he said, pride crinkling the comers of his eyes. “You’re more my child than theirs.”

The tightness in my chest loosened, and I took a breath. In my soul, I knew he was right. Our long hours spent in diversion, his attentive interest in my studies—these were not faked, put on to lull me into thinking he cared. I was not his plaything. I was not the princess’s decoy to be cast aside. I was Kavenlow’s apprentice.

He nodded, seeing the beginnings of forgiveness in my eyes. Shoulders bowed in relief, he moved us back to the path. My thoughts were spinning too fast to say anything, and we went to fetch the horses in an awkward silence until he cleared his throat. “Did Captain Jeck tell you anything about his plans?” he asked, his voice mixing with the singing frogs.

“No,” I said, amused at the intentness in his voice. Imagine, Kavenlow looking for information from me. “Garrett has only enough men to hold the palace and outer garrisons, and they aren’t very good. He expects more in about… ten days. Jeck did say he thought Garrett could manage it and that he wouldn’t mind tending our ships as well as Misdev’s farms.”

Kavenlow frowned. “Then he thinks King Edmund will claim Costenopolie when the dust settles. A player can only manipulate one kingdom. If Jeck wants to use Costenopolie in play, King Edmund will have to take it first.” He was silent, his movements going jerky as they did when he was worried.

“Just how many rules are there?” I questioned, not liking the idea.

His teeth gleamed from the dark. “Very few, of which I’ll acquaint you in due time. Some are self-imposed and can be broken, such as knowing who another player is in reality, like Captain Jeck.

Others can’t and will result in being pulled down should you flaunt them.”

“Like putting yourself on the throne,” I said, and when he nodded, the fear slipped back into me, twice as strong. “Yes, but if I’m not on the throne, how will we keep the royals from swamping us? You saw her,” I accused, walking almost sideways as I pleaded. “She is a pathetic, soft know-nothing.”

His eyebrows rose. “Don’t be harsh. Her life has been upended as much as yours. She may be having hysterics, but she wasn’t the one pounding her sister’s head into the ground.”

“She’s not my sister,” I said, flushing. “She doesn’t even want to be the princess.”

“She is Costenopolie’s heir, and she will be put on the throne.” His jaw was set.

“But she can’t control a kingdom!” I protested. “She can’t even control her mouth! When it’s made common knowledge that Prince Garrett murdered my parents and the princess was raised in a nunnery, the assassination attempts will redouble. That’s assuming our neighbors don’t declare outright war on us.

Garrett should be sent back to his father in a box. You can convince King Edmund that his death was justified. That’s why I came looking for you! You have to smooth the political waves after I kill him.”

“Political waves!” Kavenlow said, aghast. The horses were just ahead, and he pulled me to a stop.

“Tess. We can’t kill Prince Garrett and not expect retaliation under any circumstances. It doesn’t matter how much blood money we give them.”

My lips pursed. Kavenlow didn’t understand. Garrett was going to die. He couldn’t be allowed to think his actions would go unpunished. “The easiest way to end this is to kill Garrett,” I said sullenly.

Kavenlow shook his head. “No. I won’t start a war over one person’s pride.”

I stiffened. “Pride! He murdered them! If that’s not justification, what is?”

“It’s not necessary, and I won’t let you.”

“Kavenlow!”

“No. Costenopolie is mine, not yours. There can’t be two players for one kingdom. Technically, you’re still a piece. I’m the player. And you won’t kill Prince Garrett. I forbid it!”

Embarrassment covered my surprise at him giving me a direct order. I was no longer the princess, even in play. I was his apprentice. I didn’t mind as much as I would have expected—seeing as I had spent the last few days being nothing. “But they’re dead,” I protested, and we shifted back into motion. I could say the words, now that I’d found Kavenlow.

His face was sad as he glanced from the shadows of the waiting horses and back to me. “Tess, Costenopolie’s player before me wasn’t a pleasant man. He used people badly, and it was because of him Costenopolie and Misdev warred upon each other.”

“What does that have to do with letting Garrett live above justice?” I asked.

“Listen and I’ll tell you,” he said, and I grimaced. “I was far into my apprenticeship when I decided I wouldn’t use aggression to increase my sovereign’s standing. I wanted to try commerce. My master and I argued, and he tried to kill me when it became obvious I wouldn’t continue his plan of conquest by sea.

I barely escaped him, exchanging his life for mine.”

I stifled a tremor, imagining the terror of finding someone I trusted trying to kill me.

“Once my peers found out I had killed my master, it took all my cunning to convince them I wasn’t going to manipulate Costenopolie’s king to directly threaten their individual games. They thought I was staging a continent-wide takeover, not believing I had killed my master to prevent him from doing the same. Someone, I haven’t figured out who, yet, started the Red Moon Prophesy to try to end Costenopolie’s royal family line and set me back.”

“Then it’s fake?” I asked in disbelief, my feet scuffing to a halt. “It’s all been a lie?”

His apologetic look was obvious, even though it was fully dark. “Most prophesies are continent-wide statements of a player’s future intent.”

As I stood there, trying to take that in, Kavenlow took my shoulder and moved me to the horses.

They were watching us, Jeck’s horse tossing his head in impatience. “I wasn’t unhappy when Misdev’s player died of consumption,” Kavenlow said. “I only know Captain Jeck by reputation, seeing traces of his will in the upcoming marriage plans.”

I was silent as we loosely cinched riding pads and draped packs on the horses. There were too many thoughts swirling through me, most circling back to the Red Moon Prophesy. The burning-hell thing had been a fake? What had all my misery been for?

“Where did you get these horses?” Kavenlow asked as he looked at the underside of Pitch’s hoof.

Blinking, he set it down and patted her hindquarters.

I turned from knotting a pack onto Jeck’s horse, glad the moonless night hid my face. “The gray is Duncan’s. The other two—” I warmed. “Why?” I asked. If he knew where I had gotten them, he would make me give them back and the
princess
would have them.

Kavenlow looked at me over the back of Jeck’s horse. “These are my horses.”

My face went empty in dismay. Kavenlow had bought them? For her? “You bought her horses?” I said, hearing the smallness of my voice. “As a betrothal gift?”

“No!” Kavenlow came around the back of the horse and gripped my shoulder. I looked up, hating the warmth of unshed tears in my eyes. “They’re yours, goose,” he said softly. “I bought them for you.

What would a princess do with two black horses she can’t even ride?”

“B-but the stableman,” I stammered. “He said they were a gift for the princess.”

“I couldn’t tell him they were for the princess’s changeling, could I?” he said gruffly. “How on earth did you end up with them?”

“Thank you, Kavenlow!” I said, giving him a hug.
They were my horses
. It seemed like such a foolish thing to cry over, but I had so little left.