Chapter 16: Chapter 16

rince Russal sat in the same chair Kambry had, and he rose to his feet upon their entrance. He held an arrow. Her eyes caught on his tight grip of the dull-red shaft and its dusty

fletching.

In the corner, his arms behind his back, Neal bobbed up and down on his heels. He grinned at her, and her heart vibrated in her chest. She jerked her eyes back to the arrow in the prince’s hand.

Burty guided her to another chair, and she sat on the seat with a thump, Neal out of her view. She wished she could just look at his exuberant face and ignore everyone else. She took a breath, straightened her shoulders and waited to hear why she’d earned a reprieve.

Lessa entered and stood by Kambry’s chair. Her lips were straight, but something in the fullness of her cheeks added to Kambry’s hope.

Burty glanced at the prince but only a moment before he looked to Lessa. “What did you see on Miss do Brode’s shoulder?”

“A nasty welt,” said Lessa. “It will be black and blue by tonight. My guess, she won’t be shooting for a few days once the muscle stiffens.”

Prince Russal tapped the arrow in the palm of his hand and rose from his seat. He stepped forward.

Kambry couldn’t decide where to place her gaze, his serious expression or the bobbing arrow.

Lessa and Burty ended their exchange, and Kambry faced Prince Russal, looking for his response to the information.

“You missed your target,” he said.

His words made her cringe. She looked to Lessa and Burty. Lessa’s eyes squinted momentarily as if she were trying

to see him better.

“I didn’t aim or shoot at you.”

“This is the arrow you shot.” He held it up.

“It looks like one of my arrows, but I didn’t shoot at you.”

The prince squatted down in front of her and seemed about to reach for her hand, but he set his elbows on his thighs instead. He said, “Neal found it under a target at thirty paces.”

She tipped her head. Hope jangled in her chest, tangling up the speed of her heart.

The prince spoke softly.

She took her time drawing meaning from his words.

“You have ten arrows, but we counted eleven. Someone shot at the same time you did.” He smiled. “Since it is rather unlikely someone was practicing from behind you, I’d say you missed your shot, but whoever else was shooting came awfully close to making his.”

Kambry slumped in her seat and closed her eyes. Someone had purposely set her up to receive the blame whether or not they aimed to hit the prince.

“Are you sure you aren’t just a little disappointed he didn’t find his mark?” asked Prince Russal.

She raised her head and glared at him. “You have a very poor sense of humor.”

“Maybe I just want to hear you deny it,” he whispered. He stood and handed the arrow to Burty, though his gaze remained focused on her. His expression flattened as if to refuse any argument she might make. “I’ll see you for dinner,” he said. He turned to Burty. “Ensure that she sees a surgeon about her shoulder.”

“Already arranged.”

The prince clapped him on the shoulder, nodded at Kambry and Lessa, and left. Two guards stepped up beside him as he crossed the threshold and then the door closed.

Burty took Kambry’s hand and pulled her up, his smile easing her tension. “Lessa, see that she gets some ice on that shoulder and escort her to her room. I shouldn’t have to tell either of you to stay alert.”

“No,” said Lessa. “We’ll be on our toes.” “Neal,” Burty said and nodded.

The boy bolted from the corner and wrapped his arms around Kambry’s waist, his head pressed to her ribs. “I knew you didn’t do it. I kept looking. I knew you didn’t do it.”

Kambry ran her fingers through his hair. Her throat tightened. “You’re my little hero, Neal.” She hugged him tightly. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

His bright face looked up at her, his toothy grin still spread across his face.

Burty patted him on the shoulder. “I believe you now have other duties to attend to, Neal.”

“Yes, Sir.” He gave her another squeeze and ran out the door.

Burty walked her out of the office and onto the open porch. He called out to Cole. “Please join Veed in escorting Miss do Brode safely to her chambers.”

Cole, seated on the porch and waxing his bow, set his work aside. Another young helper took the bow from him with a nod. “Yes, Sir.”

The contrast of walking with Cole and Lessa versus the trip to the cell felt like a dream, the other walk more tangible and still clinging to her thoughts. She wanted them to talk, to drive away the muffled, encased feeling that seemed to wrap around her as if the cell were a ghost keeping step with her. She looked back and forth at Lessa and Cole and tried to dispel the strange feeling.

Lessa was silent, almost at attention as she paced along at her side. Her eyes moved constantly, seeming attentive to every individual or darkened space in the corridor. Cole was

more relaxed, his arms swinging casually, though she saw him as just as alert to their passage through the castle.

“Neal never gave up, Kambry,” Cole said. “Neal refused to believe you would shoot at his prince. He kicked at the dirt as he searched and shoved his fingers into holes left in the targets. I suppose he thought your arrow buried itself within.”

Cole looked proud to tell of Neal’s efforts. She watched his eyes brighten as he explained Neal’s determination to find her arrow and prove that she was telling the truth.

“When he began searching beyond the target wall you were shooting at, a few of us just stood there. We knew he would be heartbroken when he found nothing. He so wanted to save you.”

“He did save me,” she said. The words seemed to strike at the pressure of the imagined cell, and it dissipated. She felt as if she could draw a deep breath, and she hadn’t realized how uncertain her breathing had been until she could.

Cole’s smile grew. “I knew when I recommended him to the guards for training he would become a king’s guard I could be proud of. I didn’t think it would happen this soon.” He chuckled. “What a tale he and I will tell my sister tonight. My nephew saving a damsel in distress.”

“Neal’s your nephew? I didn’t realize.”

“My sister’s son.” He laughed. “You should have seen him dive at the ground in front of the target where your arrow lay burrowed underneath.” He pinched his finger and thumb together. “Just the tip of the nock was showing. He dug at it with his bare hands, screaming like someone had shot him.

“In fact, several guards, me included, ran to him just as he had revealed enough of the shaft to grip one hand around it. I expected to see an arrow protruding from him. He couldn’t pull it out from under the wall. We rolled the wall aside, and I was down on my knees getting a better grip and pulling it out of the dust. There’s no mistaking your arrows: shorter, lightweight, and red-toned. That hit to the shoulder must have given it the extra kick to propel it over your target and under

the next. Neal grabbed it out of my hand and danced around, whooping and shaking it in the air.” He clenched his fists and shook them in front of him. “I wanted to do a dance myself.”

Lessa snorted then stiffened her carriage.

Kambry looked at her, curious why she wasn’t joining the conversation. Wait. Cole is Neal’s uncle, the charming devil.

Lessa turned at her side, and Kambry realized they had reached her door. A guard waited by it and nodded at her pleasantly.

“I’ll check to see the surgeon is on his way, and I’ll stay while he examines you,” Lessa said and left in a hurry back the way they’d come.

Kambry looked at Cole, watching for his reaction to Lessa’s sudden departure. His gaze followed her, his face a study in curiosity.

He shook his head as if dislodging a question. “Let me open your door. I’d like to step in and give the place a quick look before you enter.”

“Yes, please.” She backed away. “Today has held enough surprises.”

Cole lifted the latch and spoke to the sentry by her door. “Drew, if you would watch over Miss do Brode.”

“That’s my job,” he said, but he seemed to straighten more and his gaze swept the hall.

Cole pushed the door open and stepped in. Kambry moved to the threshold to watch him. The curtains hung open, and the room was well lit. He glanced side to side, returning his concentration to the door to the balcony with each shift. He checked the lock on it and turned to Kambry. “Keep this secured. There’s no way for someone to climb up the stonework. One could lower a rope down from the bulwark above, but that would require quite a feat to get past the posted guards. There is a room above you, but it has no balcony and the window does not open. Still, for now, keep it locked.”

Cole stepped to her bedroom, walked through it and out again. “Come here, Kambry. Can you reach this?” He pointed upward at the casement above the double doors.

Kambry joined him and looked up. She raised her eyebrows in surprise. A secondary sliding lock she hadn’t noted adorned the casement.

If she got on her tiptoes, she could probably reach it with her good arm. He nodded for her to try, and she slid the lock across, sending a thick bolt into the metal slot.

“Good. There’s one similar on your bedroom window.” He patted her arm. “I don’t think it possible for someone to enter, but it’s nice to be certain of things, don’t you think?”

“Yes, thank you for showing me. It seems odd to have so much effort made to secure this room. I don’t believe my other room had such protections mounted.”

“It was once part of a larger suite. The entire wall along this side of your chambers is new from when they broke the apartment into two suites. Your bedroom, I believe, was a music room or library or both, perhaps. The original bedroom is beyond that wall.” He pointed.

“What were these chambers used for when it was so much larger?”

“Dignitaries, maybe. I’m uncertain. It’s been this way a long time, but I know the rooms on the other side of the prince’s suite are for his special visitors, and each one is twice the size of this one.”

“Would the fireplace be beyond this wall?”

“Yes, it would have been double-sided to serve both rooms. I suppose it had to be dedicated to one portion once they divided the suite.” He looked at Kambry. “You haven’t been cold, have you?”

She shook her head. “The weather has been so mild. I’ve been fine.”

Lessa strode in with the surgeon, an old fellow with broad shoulders and short legs. He was only slightly taller than

Kambry.

Cole nodded at him. “I’ll be back to escort you to dinner later, Kambry.” He closed the door behind him.

Lessa said, “This is Baraby, the guard’s surgeon.”

“Miss do Brode.” He directed her to her bedroom. Lessa led them both in.

He noted her drawing supplies and parchment on the table and searched for a place to put his bag.

She pushed aside her brush and mirror on the vanity, and he made use of the space without hesitation.

“Expose your shoulder, please. Guard Veed will assist you.” He searched through his bag, leaving her the privacy of his turned back.

Kambry unbuttoned her vest, and Lessa helped her pull up her shift when she found her arm did not have the range of motion necessary.

“I knew it would stiffen up on you,” Lessa said. She raised the shift high on Kambry’s shoulder. “It looks even worse than it did before. Did our assassin hit you with a mallet?”

“Hmm. Let me look at that,” Baraby said. His meaty hands were gentle, but the tenderness of the muscle still made her pull in a high-pitched breath. “Quite a contusion, but I think it looks worse than it is. So, not quite a mallet. The tissue’s not broken, just terribly bruised.”

Kambry gritted her teeth as he fingered the tender area.

“The bone beneath is whole,” he said after a moment. “I will move your arm about. It will hurt.” He was silent a moment as he wrapped warm fingers around her wrist. “Lessa, stand in front of her and give her some support in case this is a bit too much to bear.”

Kambry raised her eyebrows at Lessa, who gave her a confident nod and held her good arm with a grip around her bicep while still gripping Kambry’s shift out of the surgeon’s way.

He manipulated her arm in circles, forward and back. “Let me do the work, Miss. Relax as much as you can.”

Taking a breath, she forced herself to let him control her arm’s movement. Still, she stiffened when he raised it out to her side and up.

“Hmm.”

She heard him step to her side. Then he prodded the muscle surrounding her shoulder blade. An involuntary yelp escaped, and Lessa gave her a sympathetic smile.

“I won’t be telling our young guardian Neal about this,” Lessa said. “He’s already prepared to hunt your assailant down and deal him a terrific punishment.”

Imagining Neal with his wooden practice sword beating on the brute made her chuckle through the discomfort.

“All right, I’ve caused you enough pain. I think a good poultice applied for a few hours and rest tonight should be enough. You won’t be shooting for a few days, and then I want you to let your level of comfort determine how much work you put the arm to, but refrain from overusing it as much as you can. I’ll check back with you in two days to see what your range of motion is.”

He patted her arm. Lessa let the shift fall.

“I’ll have that poultice brought by within the hour, and Guard Veed can help you secure it. Keep it there three to four hours.”

Lessa stayed until the poultice was in place. Then she left Kambry to rest.

She couldn’t sit still and paced the room. Someone had tried to frame her and attempted to kill the prince.

He had yet another reason to mistrust everyone.

Pacing back to the table by the window, she leaned over the drawing and wondered if she could begin adding color if she stood and held her arm straight down rather than sat and leaned her weight on her elbow, disturbing her sore shoulder.

Her thoughts drifted back to when she was waiting in Burty’s office. Who was the man who beckoned from the doorway? The prince didn’t mention him when he explained about the arrow, and she had forgotten about him in her fright. Had the prince not wanted anyone to know he had arranged for her safety? She would have to talk to him tonight. The prince, more than anyone, could have hidden her away until after they proved her innocent. In the meantime, she would have looked even guiltier. Did the prince want her to appear responsible? No. He couldn’t. There was nothing for him to gain from having her imprisoned.

She sat down, letting her arm hang at her side. It’s all so strange. She wasn’t a danger to anyone, yet she was in the middle of someone’s treacherous plot. She stared out the window, noting it must be late afternoon. The maze caught her eye. It seemed to have lost its sharp lines. Perhaps it was the lighting, but if she had to guess, she believed gardeners had removed some shrubbery. Too bad she couldn’t take a walk in the gardens, but she didn’t have the same freedom of travel that she’d had at the beginning of her stay in Kavin. She could hardly relax with Guardsman Drew pacing along beside her like she was being escorted for her mandatory sunlight and exercise allotment.

She stood and eyed the chalked lines she had put on the parchment over the past week. They had grown from the grid to rough outlines of the animals and vegetation. If she kept her elbow tight to her body and just moved her forearm and wrist, she probably could apply some color. She couldn’t take the risk of outlining, but she wouldn’t do that anyway until the colors set.

The box of supplies had all she needed, and she was pleased to find the ink was fresh and selected the green to apply to the surrounding foliage and the leaves in the tree. She chose a short, narrow brush to make up for the lack of precise control she didn’t have since she could not brace her elbow on the table. She shook her head. Why couldn’t the traitor have hit her left shoulder instead?

The concentration of adding color with care kept her engaged for some time and helped her ignore the awkwardness of the binding holding the poultice in place. At least, the damp pad smelled pleasant. She’d recognized comfrey, cayenne, olive and lavender in the aroma that seeped from the lumpy mass on her shoulder.

The surgeon had suggested she rest, but she didn’t feel tired. The slightest sound made her jump. Whoever was out to harm the prince would not stop just because they failed to accomplish the deed. She was probably the designated scapegoat indefinitely.

She huffed when a tap at the door caused her to overrun a chalked line. She stuttered between taking the knife to the parchment to remove the offending ink or answering the door. The drawing won, and the door came flying open after a moment just as she put the knife down, satisfied with the quick slice of a thin layer that caught the ink before it penetrated further.

She rushed through her bedroom doorway, halting Drew with his sword drawn in the middle of her sitting room.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Your knock caused me to make a mistake, and I had to take care of it before it became permanent.” She pointed over her shoulder when the guard looked at her quizzically. “I’m working on a drawing. My hand jerked, leaving ink in the wrong place.”

He nodded. “I thought perhaps you were in danger.”

She considered the suggestion that she rest awhile. “What if I’d been asleep?”

He slid his sword into its scabbard. “My assignment does not include coming up with excuses why you wouldn’t answer the door.”

“You did your job very well. Was this practice or did you need to speak with me?”

“You have a message.” The guard held out a wax-sealed note.

She accepted the note and broke the seal with her thumb.

The prince’s awkward script trailed across the sheet.

My dear Miss do Brode, I hope you are comfortable and resting. Amily and Tomo will join us for dinner. Since they are leaving tomorrow, I ask that you bring your work on the illustration for Amily so she can see your progress.

Your faithful dinner companion, Prince Russal

She held the folded sheet and tapped her thumb with it. She wouldn’t be able to ask him about the man at the door while Amily and Tomo were present. He’d likely require that she stay after, anyway. They’d talk then.

The guard waited, and Kambry realized he might anticipate a reply.

“You’re Drew, right? Should I write a response?” “I believe His Highness is expecting one.”

“Give me a moment.” She returned to her room and wrote carefully on the note that she would do as he requested. Tipping her head, she critiqued her own writing. Not the usual precise lettering she was accustomed to, but still better than his. Using the wax seal on the table by the door, she secured her reply.

Drew took her response and left her after giving the room a quick perusal.

Once she returned to the worktable, she gazed at what little she had accomplished. Maybe by tomorrow, her arm could withstand a more stable arrangement. She doubted what she had done so far would impress Amily.

There was still time to get more work done before she had to allow it to dry so she could slip it between boards to protect it. She settled down at the worktable and focused on applying more color to the remaining background trees.

Lessa arrived in time to remove the poultice and help her dress.

“His Highness will probably think you put on a special perfume just for him,” Lessa said, pealing the damp bandage back.

Kambry chuckled. “He supplied the dress, shoes and jewelry. I could argue that the poultice was also his contribution. If he doesn’t like the fragrance, he’s the one to blame.”

“So true,” said Lessa. “He really needs to stay out of target range and can’t be expecting others to bear the consequences.”

Kambry found she could chuckle over Lessa’s joke now that hours separated her from the horror of being placed in the cell.

Lessa swung open the wardrobe doors and stepped back. “My goodness. Have you tried these all on?”

“I didn’t when they arrived. I didn’t have a mirror. Now that I do, I don’t think I want to put my shoulder through trying on another dress right now.”

“I’ve never imagined a brown dress could be so gorgeous.

At least tell me you tried that one on.”

“I held it up to myself and tried to imagine what it would look like.”

Lessa pulled it out and held it in front of Kambry. “If you wore this dress tonight, I’m not sure a man in the castle could keep his jaw from hitting the floor.”

“The prince specifically told me not to wear that dress until he asked me to.”

“Oh.” She raised her eyebrows and hung it back in the cupboard, her hand lingering on the silky fabric of the skirt. “Which would you like to wear tonight?”

“Whichever one will put the least pressure on my shoulder blade.”

“Then you should wear the white dress you came in.”

Kambry considered it. The thin straps that crossed her back would definitely provide the least contact with her skin, but none of the dresses the prince provided were that revealing. “My dress is not quite the Kavin style. I’ll wear the green one.”

Lessa lifted it from the wardrobe. “That’s an acceptable choice, too. The halter top will carry the weight of the dress. I can put some soft padding here at the back where it will press against your bruised muscle, and I’ll lace it up loosely. Just don’t lean back in your chair, and you should be fine.”

“I’m never comfortable enough with the prince to do any leaning back.” She turned around and let Lessa assist her in removing her vest and shift.

Between the two of them, they had her ready in an hour. She left her wavy locks hanging down as Lessa was not adept at arranging hair, and Kambry couldn’t do it herself. Lessa slid the comb in to hold hair away from her face and brushed out the dark lengths to a glossy shine.

“How’s your arm feel?” asked Lessa.

“As if it’s just going to hang down at my side like a dead tree limb.”

Lessa pursed her lips, strode to the wardrobe and pulled out drawers until she found what she was looking for. She removed a scarf of fine, dark-green linen. “It’s not as posh as the satin of your dress, but it will support your arm better than a thin silk would. Here, bend your arm and hold it across your ribs.” She crossed the corners of one side of the scarf and cradling Kambry’s arm inside it, she tied it at the back of Kambry’s neck. The third corner she tucked inside along the front of Kambry’s arm and overlapped what remained under where she pinned it tight. The result was a comfortable sling. “There.” She pulled the pendant forward and lay it over the crossed material. “Camouflage.”

Kambry looked at herself in the mirror over the vanity. “Oh, yes, no one will detect the sling now.”

“If they’re rude enough to comment, they aren’t a friend and beneath your notice.”

Cole called from the door. “Are you ready?”

Lessa and Kambry entered the sitting room. “I’ve got her properly wrapped up.”

“Now, don’t you smell delightful?” he said.

Kambry grinned. “The sweet odor of Kavin Wood poultice. A very expensive fragrance requiring the efforts of a guardhouse surgeon of many years’ experience.”

“I’m glad you can laugh about it.” He stepped into the room and stood relaxed with his hands clasped behind his back. “Ready, ladies?” He turned and waited for them to join him at the door.

Kambry skipped forward and stopped beside him. She looked over her shoulder, suddenly remembering the illustration. “Oh, I forgot Amily’s drawing.”

“I’ll get it,” said Lessa, who had remained by the door of Kambry’s bedroom. She called from inside. “How should I carry it?”

“Put it between those boards next to it and grip it gently.” When Lessa joined them, Cole stepped aside for her.

“Oh, I should hold it with two hands.” She waited for him to open the door and trod out ahead of them. “Let’s go.”

Cole hesitated a moment and then gave Kambry a smile, and they stepped out the door together.