Chapter 14: Chapter 14

“Would you mind terribly?”

“Not at all.” He stepped past her and paced to the balcony doors, examining the room as he went. He peered out the glass, checked the latch and turned to face her. “No one.”

Still standing in the doorway, she said, “Would you peek in my bedchamber, please?”

The soft glow of another oil lamp crossed the threshold. Stepping just inside the room, he gazed about. “All clear, Kambry.”

He joined her, and she stepped in as he entered the hall.

“I’ll wait here until Gordy shows. He’ll be just a few minutes.”

“Thank you, Cole. Good night.”

“Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.” He closed the door.

She could hear his soft step as he turned his back to her door and faced the hall. Hands to her cheeks, she gazed at the room. She wished she could believe there was no hidden passage. The ring had flashed yellow when Prince Russal had denied there was one, hadn’t it?

She’d never seen a hidden door before and wouldn’t know how to look for one, and she had already searched every nook she suspected. She shivered, noting she had yet to step more than a pace into the room. Cole may have seen no one, but that was no guarantee there wouldn’t be someone later. There wasn’t a weapon in the room.

Yes, there is.

She ran into her bedchamber and to the desk where the box of scribe tools sat open. Still in its slot was the small knife. She examined the blade. It was tiny, meant only to shave off a single layer of vellum should she make a mistake while inking, but it was better than nothing. Just holding it in her hand gave her a feeling of not being so under the prince’s thumb or whoever it was plotting against him and trying to include her in his or her efforts.

She set the mounted blade by her bedside and stepped behind the screen to change into her nightclothes. This time she would leave the oil lamp lit on purpose. Darkness only made her more certain someone could enter while she slept.

She carried the knife with her when she went to snuff the lamps in the sitting room. The warmth of the wooden handle calmed her rapid heartbeat. A different anxiety replaced her fear. The thought of stabbing someone wasn’t much better than the thought of having no weapon at all. She watched her hand shake.

This was so unfair! She’d had enough of dancing around something she couldn’t see or touch. If someone came in her room uninvited through the door or a hidden entrance, he or she had better be wearing armor. She gripped the handle tighter and felt much calmer with anger racing along her nerves instead of fear.

She thought she would sleep since she had found peace with the uncertainty of her safety, but she didn’t. Fear wasn’t keeping her awake. It was the ring glowing blithely purple that held her thoughts captive. She spun it one way: “The prince is falling in love with me.” She spun it the other way: “The prince is a monster.” She spun it again.

~~~~~~~

Kambry waved at Neal and Teddy at their table across the mess hall. They sat with several other boys. A week had passed since the prince’s incredible request that she join him in the garden for a board game. They had eaten dinner together twice since then, but he had been preoccupied, mixing terseness with targeted questions about her life that led her away from what vexed him. He made her head ache, and she had not been motivated to practice archery as often as she should.

Lessa chuckled. “The other pages are so jealous that Neal has a lady for a girlfriend. You’ve raised him to the top of his little social circle. I wonder if he plans to challenge the prince.”

“Lessa. Stop. You’re nearly as silly as they are.” She looked over at Neal, a satisfied grin on his face as the other boys whispered and stole glances over their shoulders at her. “He’s so sweet.”

“He will be a charming devil like his uncle.”

Kambry speared a slice of potato. “Who’s his uncle?”

Lessa shoveled food in her mouth and gazed off as if important things made her too busy to answer.

“If you won’t tell me, I can ask someone else.” Kambry leaned forward. “Who do you think is a charming devil?”

“You’re done eating?”

Kambry smirked. “Obviously not.” She pointed at her half-empty plate. “I know you have a crush on someone.” She ate while she watched Lessa steam.

“I do not. Eat up. They’ll be heading out to the range soon, and everyone is expecting you.”

She let up on Lessa. If she didn’t want her to know whom she liked, she could keep her secret. “How come I never see you shooting?”

Lessa gave her a grateful smile. “I’m not an archer. I know how to shoot, and I practice, but not with the archers.” She nodded at a table to the right of them. Several men and women sat together. “That’s my cohort. We’re hand-to-hand fighters—truncheons, quarterstaffs, but my specialty is the throwing spear.”

Kambry’s jaw dropped. Lessa was a hand-to-hand fighter.

She was as tall as Cole, but slim.

Lessa laughed. “Did you think I threw daisies at them?” “I assumed you fought from a distance.”

“I do when throwing spears, but the enemy has a terrible habit of running toward people. Backing up is not encouraged by Marshal Burtram. If I plan to stand my ground, I better wield something I can do damage with when throwing is not an option.”

“So Cole specializes in archery.”

“Cole’s an elite. He specializes in everything.” Lessa looked toward the head table where the Marshal sat. Kambry followed her gaze and realized Cole sat to Burty’s right. He raised his glass at her and winked.

When she turned back, Lessa was blushing.

Kambry looked again and didn’t see any of the other men looking toward them. Cole was back in conversation with Burty.

“Let’s clean up our table. Places to be, you know.” Lessa stood up and grabbed her plate. She took Kambry’s just as she speared her last potato.

“What’s your rush? No one has left their seat yet.”

“No reason to be lazy. Let’s go.” She marched away.

Kambry rose, chewing, and followed, taking her fork and both their mugs with her.

Lessa stood at the mess entrance until Kambry joined her. “I’ll see you later, Kambry.”

“You okay?”

Stepping aside to let two guards pass, Lessa shrugged. “We’ll talk later.” She headed out, leaving Kambry by the door.

She exited with a few more guards and moved out of their way. Turning toward the training yard, she noted a page making a beeline toward her, and she waited for her. “Miss do Brode, His Highness requests your presence in the garden. Will you follow me?”

She hesitated though she had agreed to the meeting. It wasn’t easy keeping up with his changing moods, and the morning had started out so nicely. Who knew how it would turn out now? She looked at the earnest page. “Lead the way.”

After she entered the garden, the page chose a pathway which headed straight for the maze, and Kambry wondered if they would be entering it. Would Gardener Konnelby be there

double-checking his plans? It might be nice having a friendly face close by.

As they passed a hedge of brilliant greenery, the two white wrought-iron chairs she had sat in with Konnelby entered her view. Russal sat with his back to her, at a small table that hadn’t been there the last time she had visited the gardens. The border of blooming roses, curved halfway around the small seating area. It had been comfortable when she had sat with Konnelby discussing his garden plans. The chairs faced each other, and she doubted there was room for the prince’s unreliable temperaments.

“Good morning, Prince Russal.” He faced her and gestured for her to sit.

“You came, Miss do Brode. I wasn’t sure you hadn’t changed your mind in the light of a new day.”

She eased into her seat, a guard pushing it forward for her before returning to his station out of earshot. “It is a puzzle knowing which prince I will be dealing with.”

The page looked at her quizzically then at the prince. “Will you be needing anything more, Your Highness?”

“No, Trena. You may return to your duties.” He twisted in his seat as the page strode away. “Trena?”

The girl stopped, giving the prince all her attention. “Your grandmother is well?”

“Yes. She is taking the herbs the master healer recommended, and her heart feels much better. She’s working in the mornings now, but she rests in the afternoon.”

“Good. Encourage her to keep resting. The kingdom needs wise women like her.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The page trotted away, a skip in her step.

“So you’re a benevolent monarch today.” He squinted at her, not sure of her tone.

She wasn’t sure of her tone either. Was that conversation staged for her or genuine?

“Her grandmother was a lady’s maid for my mother. I remember her many kindnesses. She deserves mine in return.” He tapped the game board on the tabletop. “This game is called Trust and Misdirection.”

An ironic streak ran through his blood. “Before we start. Here is my list of ideas for your tapestry.” She set a folded sheet to the side.

“Thank you,” he said with genuine appreciation and appeared ready to look them over rather than start the game.

“How is it played?” She pointed at the game board.

“There are these cards.” He tapped a stack that sat to the left of the board. “It’s a very simple game of questions and conversation.” His finger ran along two sets of square tracks that curved in a spiral to a center square where a silver crown sat.

“The goal of the game?”

“Strategy, negotiation, give and take. Ultimately, you want to get to the end of your path and win the crown.”

“What’s on the cards?”

He flipped one over, revealing a rabbit nibbling on grass. “This is a topic. You could ask questions about pets or animals living in the woods. You might view the rabbit and decide the topic is about hunting or food. Interpretation of the pictures is fairly free-flowing.”

“So we ask each other questions? How do we move along the tracks?”

“Let’s say I asked a question.” He paused to come up with an example. “Say I said, ‘Describe how you killed your sister’s cat.’”

“I don’t have a sister.”

“I will ask questions directed at you when we play. I didn’t want to waste a good one on an example.” He tucked

the card under the stack.

“I still don’t see how the game is played. We pull a card, ask a question, and then what?”

“Let’s say I asked that cat-killing question, knowing you had killed your sister’s cat. You would have to answer it truthfully or strategically misdirect me. Let’s assume you found a way to misdirect me, and I asked another question. You would win the turn and get to move along the track.” He handed her a silver figurine then tapped the board at the start of a track of green squares.

She set her figurine there, a guard standing at attention.

He set another silver-cast figurine, a guard holding a sword, on the track of purple squares.

“So my goal is to divert your attention?” she asked, finding the rules rather vague.

“This is a game of negotiation and redirection. My counselor used it to teach me to listen to details and not just what people were saying but how and with what intention they were saying it. I think we can use it to get to know each other.”

Kambry considered how she might avoid playing the game. He knew the rules and the ploys he could use to control it. Her skills at communication were hardly well-tuned given how rarely she participated in conversations. But she had listened closely to people, paying attention to everyone around her. Stahn often said she had strong observation skills and even used her as a sounding board. Maybe she was better equipped than she thought.

“All right. Who starts?” she asked. “I’ll let you go first.”

“I turn over a card?” He nodded slowly, and she felt she was overlooking something important. Was it strategy to make the other person go first?

Of course, it was. Her hand shook over the stack. She clamped her teeth and turned the card. A pie with steam rising from the cuts in the crust filled the center in vivid colors. She

ran a finger back and forth along her lower lip then looked at Prince Russal, deliberately squinting as if she had a question that would challenge him.

He cocked his head and settled his shoulders.

“If you had to come up with your own dessert, what would be the recipe?”

He blinked and his shoulders slumped as he stared off to the side. He scratched his head and gave her a curious look. “A dessert.” His fingers tapped the table, and he eyed his figurine. “There would be gooseberries, honey and crumbly stuff, bread crumbs.” He tapped the figurine on its square. “Um, eggs. I suppose everything would be swirled together in a bowl and poured over the mashed gooseberries. And cream, there would be cream to poor over the top after it was cooked.” He let out a sigh. “No one’s ever asked for a recipe.” He reached for the next card.

“Do I get to move a square?”

“No. You didn’t stump me or prove that I was lying.” “You could lie in this game?”

“Convincingly. It is called Trust and Misdirection. There are times when one doesn’t want to tell the truth.”

She glanced at her ring. “I believe I’m at a disadvantage.” “Only if your intentions are treacherous. An untruth in a

game will hardly topple my kingdom. Don’t worry about the ring.”

“But won’t it give me away if I lie?”

He didn’t like her questions. Then a grin formed on his face. He moved his figurine one space. Then slid hers three.

“You little minx. You got me misdirected. But I didn’t fall for your last question, so I earned a square, too. You can only win up to three squares at a time.”

Really?

He flipped the next card.

A wagon.

“Describe a time you traveled so far you fell asleep in a wagon.”

“That’s not a question.”

“It doesn’t have to be a question.”

She moved her figurine a square, and his mouth fell open.

He bit his lip, his mouth quirking up at the corners. Clearing his throat, he gazed at her, his mouth determinedly shut.

Fell asleep in a wagon. “When I was quite small, my family went to Konright for a celebration of Kon House. A young man had come of age and was choosing to be affiliated with his Kon roots. As a high elder of the house, my father had to attend. He took Stahn and me along to witness our first house naming celebration. I ran about in the wagon, jumping on the padding of hay my dad had softened the hard boards with. By the time we arrived, I was exhausted. My dad carried me into the Kon holding, and I slept through the ceremony and didn’t wake up until we were halfway home.”

Prince Russal opened his mouth then clamped it shut and wagged his finger at her. He tapped the stack.

Kambry turned the next card. A sword. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

“Yes.” His gaze rose and looked her in the eyes. He waited, and she said nothing.

The next card bore a vermillion heart. Prince Russal stared at it a moment. “Have you ever been in love?”

“No.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said.

Kambry glared at him and moved her figurine along the track. He moved it back.

“You spoke out of turn.” She moved the figurine again.

He moved it back. “I don’t believe you. I’m am challenging your answer. That is within the rules.”

“You can’t prove I’m lying.”

“No, but you must prove you are telling the truth.” “That’s ridiculous.”

He moved his figurine three squares.

She slapped his hand, and laughter burst out of his mouth. He tapped the heart and raised a brow.

How could she prove she’d never been in love? Could she misdirect him with a tale about something else? “There’s a blacksmith’s son. He’s very kind and strong.” The afternoon of the spring celebration rolled out before her mind’s eye. She’d been in such a hurry. “When I was finishing up some scribe work I wanted to get done, I lost track of time. Most of the townsfolk had already headed to the meadow. I was hurrying along the road and raced around a wagon. It was the blacksmith’s, and his son was loading it. I hadn’t noticed him and barreled around and crashed into him as he turned to reach for another box. He lifted me up and set me down on the other side of him like one would a small child. Here I had chosen my dress so carefully, wanting to be noticed…” She shut her mouth and stared down at her hands.

“Did he notice you?”

Kambry didn’t move. She didn’t want to answer his question. It wasn’t really about being noticed. It was about being loved by someone other than family. It was about someone wanting her, seeing her, valuing her. No, she didn’t want to answer his question because he had noticed, and she had run away. No, she had never been in love. She looked at Russal and remembered she didn’t have to answer his question. Slowly, with careful focus on his eyes, she moved her figurine one square.

His jaw muscles bunched, and he saluted her.

Kambry flipped the next card. Another vermillion heart.

She was not going to ask about him being in love.

Russal watched her with a strange intensity. He looked relaxed, but so still, she was certain he was keeping back a reaction.

“Who is your favorite person in Kavin Wood?”

Prince Russal eased back in his seat. Had he been worried she’d ask the same question or that she wouldn’t?

“Hmm. I have a lot of favorites. Right now, I would say you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Challenging me to prove it true? Okay. You’re my favorite because I haven’t figured you out yet, but I think when I do, I’ll be delighted. You’re beautiful and talented.” He tapped her hand, and she jerked it back. “You surprise me. I think I’ve got everything going just as I want, and then you say or do something unexpected, and I realize I’m standing on unstable ground. But I don’t mind the wobbliness. It’s invigorating, tantalizing. I want to know you better. Figure out how you fit into this attack on my rule, how are you going to fix things for me.”

His voice held her captive. It had grown so soft.

He fiddled with the card. “Something about you. I don’t know what it is, but I didn’t know I was waiting for you until you showed up. You think you’re in a strange world where you don’t know the rules and don’t know what people want of you. I was sure I had your place in my world figured out, but then you showed up, and my world is different. I’m as lost as you are. As much in danger of banishment from all that I love as you are. Yes. You are my favorite person because you give me hope. No matter how it goes, you commit treason against me or save me, I’m going to be released from this waiting.”

Kambry rose from her seat and stepped back. “I have to go.” Why was she trembling? She had to pass him to get back to the gate, so she took the two steps that brought her up beside him. Just as she took another step, he caught her arm, holding her back. His eyes burned with familiar intensity and warmth.

“It’s a tie, Miss do Brode. Five to five. We don’t know yet how this will end, but we’re in it together.” He let her go.

Kambry hurried off, rushing through the gate. Her heart thundered. How had she become important to his battle for control of Kavin Wood? How could she save him? She refused to commit treason. But could she save him, save Kavin Wood?

Around her wagons rolled and people went about their business. For the first time, she realized everyone here was content. They were loyal to their prince. Though their kingdom struggled to be safe from whatever or whoever worked to undermine their prince, they followed him regardless. He may be confusing and even conniving in her view, but they saw him as their beloved ruler. It was worth her looking closer, getting closer to him despite feeling trapped by his determination to view her as the enemy.

He also saw her as his savior.

She pushed the thought aside. Ahead was the entrance to the guards’ training ground, and she still had archery practice.

~~~~~~~

She hadn’t been in the garden with the prince long. Though she had been tempted to spend another day alone in her room, she returned to the archery range. The guards were still shooting on the range. Since the squire in training that had been sick was back, Kambry didn’t gather arrows with Neal and Teddy. Kip was tall enough to get those that stuck high, and his legs were long, giving him speed they couldn’t match. She felt better just watching them.

The archers demanded he give them a head start when they raced to see who could finish the quickest. Neal and Teddy grinned as the archers cheered them on to beat Kip, who took to the game with a grin, even when they made him step back another five feet when he caught up too easily the first go-round.

Kambry laughed and clapped, forcing herself into a better mood and earning a tooth-filled smile from shy Neal.

Her own practice began after they’d cleaned up and rolled a target closer for her. Burty had her warm up while he watched her and looked for bad habits.

“What poor habits could I possibly have?” She snapped her fists to her hips and rounded on him. Perhaps her mood hadn’t improved, after all.

“Well, not showing up for practice is one.” He handed her an arrow and her bow and pointed at the line she needed to stand at.

She huffed. “Assuming that is addressed, what else could there be?”

“You’d be surprised what the brain can come up with when you’re not paying attention. Now line up and shoot.”

Her lesson was a tough one. Burty found all manner of adjustments to make to her stance, draw and aim. Finally satisfied with her form, he sent her to gather her arrows and return to shoot a few rounds.

She had her ten arrows in the tube and set herself up to shoot. Two arrows made it into the third outer ring. She focused on the target, confident she had her form correct and determined to move up a ring. Nocking the arrow and raising the bow, she drew back on the string and aimed.

“Prince Russal,” Burty yelled and left her side.

Her arrow streaked from the bow, digging into the ground a foot from the wall. Kambry saw the prince standing in the side yard of the range. He smiled at her and crossed his arms as if planning to watch her shoot. Burty intersected her view and blocked the prince from her sight.

She let her bow drop. She wanted to hide, and her fingers twitched on the bow’s riser. Burty would distract him, and she could take up her gear and leave without him noticing.

Burty’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Kambry, practice,” he bellowed as he strode toward the prince.

She yanked her hand away from the arrows in the tube and grumbled. After drawing just one out, she stepped into

position and nocked the arrow. She dared a glance at where she’d seen the prince. He’d stepped to the side and was looking around Burty. Prince Russal winked, and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Fine. She raised the bow and drew back. She took a breath, but her shoulders still shook. The longer she waited, the worse it got. She lowered the bow and stared at the ground, willing herself to relax and not let it bother her that Prince Russal stood watching her, probably fully aware of the influence it had on her. Raising, drawing back and aiming, she worked to steady her nerves. She concentrated on the target. Her fingers tensed, and she held her breath.

Ow! Something smacked her shoulder blade, enough to sting and foil her aim as she released the string on reflex. The arrow shot wild.

A moment later, there was an uproar. The prince was on the ground, Burty covering him with his body and shouting.

She couldn’t believe what she saw. At head height, an arrow, her arrow, vibrated in the building wall behind where the prince had been standing.

Kambry stumbled back. How could her arrow have gone that much out of line? Her arm had jerked, but not to the side. She spun around, seeking the source of what had struck her, but no one was behind her.

Her shoulder still stung, the muscle cramping. Two guards grabbed her arms, one taking her bow and tossing it aside.

Burty’s voice broke over the pandemonium. “Take her to my office!”

The guards nearly lifted her off her feet as they gripped her and carried her forward with long strides. She raced to keep upright.

“What happened? I don’t understand.” She twisted to see behind her. A glimpse of the prince between surrounding guards assured her he was alive.

“You attempted to kill the prince.”