Chapter 19: Chapter 19

“Now let me show you where I plan to put the first major pathway.” They strode along, and she could no longer keep track of her disguised prince who probably remained behind her trimming hedges indiscriminately.

An hour had passed before she left Konnelby’s side, and she searched the garden for both the man in red and Russal but found neither. Where was Drew? She couldn’t find him either.

Her feet carried her to the weaving workroom where she assisted with the removal of a detailed and colorful tapestry from one of the larger looms. Word had not gotten to them she wasn’t allowed to use her arm. The day nearly gone, she returned to her room and settled in to some work on Amily’s illustration.

essa arrived at six, and Kambry had already picked out the dress she wanted to wear for Russal and would need her help to put on. It lay on the bed, and the matching necklace

and earrings glimmered on the vanity.

Lessa ran her finger down the dress’s skirt and shared a sympathetic look with her. “I’m sorry, Kambry. I’ve a note from Prince Russal canceling your dinner with him tonight.” She handed it to Kambry.

The folded parchment felt warm in her hand. She imagined it had just left his fingers, and the warmth of the paper was because of his tight grip on it. She broke the seal and read his scrawled words.

We’ll not be able to have our dinner together this evening, Kambry. I’ll make it up to you soon. Maybe we can meet in the garden again behind a hedge somewhere. Yours in truth. Russal.

She turned her back, folded the parchment with a snap and put it on the table by her bedside. Her heart raced at the thought of being behind a hedge somewhere with him.

“I’m here to escort you to dinner in the mess hall with us lowly guards,” said Lessa. “But you can’t be too disappointed since he always leaves you annoyed and confused.” Lessa stiffened. “I shouldn’t speak of my prince that way, should I?”

“I’ll not tell, Lessa. He’s not so bad anymore.” Her lips tingled with the memory of just how certain she was that he was not bad at all. She reached for the gown and hung it over her good arm.

“Are you sure? You’re looking flushed. Angry just thinking about him?”

“Well, maybe he still raises my temperature a bit.” She hoped he was not in the little passage room. She doubted he could keep from laughing at her. How disappointing that she

wouldn’t see him for dinner. He knew she wanted to talk. Maybe he would visit her again tonight after all had gone to sleep.

“There you are again, your color rising. Are you sure he isn’t just as annoying?”

His grinning face under the straw hat filled her mind. “Maybe he is.” She strode to the wardrobe and hung the dress.

Lessa gathered the jewelry and set it in the box for her. “Ready?” she asked.

~~~~~~~

After dinner in the guardhouse, she stood at her worktable selecting ink. Baraby was coming by in the morning, and she was certain he would clear her for physical activities.

Rolling her shoulders, she tested the improvement since the morning. Her fingers, tentative on her skin, pressed the bruised area. “Not bad.”

Sitting down, she prepared the space. The book sat off to the side, and she remembered Amily saying it belonged to Russal and that he had a favorite illustration. She drew the old text to her and perused each page, considering what would draw his attention. The plates of bright color and gold leaf each offered imaginative displays of animals at play in a garden. It wasn’t until she turned a page to find a young prowling panther dashing through a maze that she thought she had found Russal’s favorite image.

Staring at it kept her occupied several minutes as she imagined him in boyhood admiring the sleek cat, confident and lithe among the ornamental hedges. She giggled when she recognized the golden hare from Amily’s selection peeking through the leaves behind him, the little face both mischievous and cautious. She turned the pages to the rabbit on the swing and snorted. There among the colorful leaves and flowers was the similarly spying panther. She’d completely overlooked it, her attention held by the swing and its occupant. A few quick slashes of chalk, and she had the golden eyes and deep black

face outlined among the foliage. She vowed to recreate the panther’s page for Russal as soon as she completed Amily’s.

Now that she felt able to apply ink with the precision she was accustomed to performing, she set to work with enthusiasm. By bedtime, she had moved on to the blue, umber and purple of the flowers that framed the scene. The switching of the guards was her first sign that evening had fallen. The oil lamp she’d been working by was the only illumination in the room.

She leaned back and felt the twinge of contact with the back of the chair on her bruised shoulder. Stretching, she worked out the stiffness her long effort with inking had left. Giving the wardrobe a sly glance, she smiled. As silly as it felt to sidle up to it, she knocked lightly on the broad side of the closet. “Russal, are you in there?”

She wished she had asked him to show her how to move the closet. It was open the entire time they had talked, and he had swung it closed when the guard had entered. She searched the trim against the wall and wherever else she thought the latch might be, but found nothing. “Russal, open up,” she appealed, leaning into the corner.

She paced the room twice and then jumped when the wardrobe creaked open.

“Kambry, it’s Russal. Can I come in?” his urgent voice whispered.

She rushed to the crack, a tall, thin beam of light glowing through it. “Russal!”

The wooden monstrosity shifted open. He stood dressed in regal red and black, his hair neatly braided at the temples, his black boots polished to a shine. Russal caught her up in his arms and pulled her to and him then released her, stepping back and resting his hands on her shoulders as if he’d pushed the boundaries of propriety. “I’ve missed you. That glimpse in the garden was just an appetizer.”

“And what of dinner? You palmed me off.” She pretended to pull away, and his fingers slid down her arms as he stepped

close.

“Never,” he said, his voice a silky hum in her ears. “But a prince does not have the freedom to do as he pleases. I only just escaped from a meeting and have another I must attend to. I snuck away to see you.”

“This afternoon you had time to wander.”

“That wasn’t wandering; that was watching over you.”

“I think you may have ruined some of Mr. Konnelby’s hedges.”

“They’re not Mr. Konnelby’s hedges. They’re mine, but let’s forget the garden. I need something to carry me through my endless meetings.” He leaned over her, his eyes searching hers. “Will you allow me to kiss you, Kambry love?”

The soft caress of his voice gave her shivers. Speechless, she rose on her toes and tipped her mouth up at his. A slow smile pulled his lips and then he kissed her softly. Thoroughly. She gasped when he pulled back. “I thought that would help, but I think I’m quite ruined for the meeting now.” He ran his lips along her cheek to her ear and whispered, “I’ll only think of you.”

She clung to him. How had she caught his attention and held it? No one had ever given her a second look.

He leaned back and seemed to take her in with searching eyes. “Your hair is a mess, my dear. Did I do that?”

“I’ve only a single comb to hold it in place.”

“Kambry, I give you dresses and baubles and all you desire are a few pins and ties for your beautiful hair.” He ran his fingers through it, unsnarling a length along her neck, his tentative fingers sending thrills down her spine. He slid the locks over her shoulder. “I can’t stay. I’m probably already missed.” He pressed his lips to hers briefly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, at the very least, at the Grand Review.”

He was inside the little passage room and the wardrobe shut behind him before she could voice a complaint.

She stomped her foot and gave the wardrobe a whack. There was no answering knock from within, and she assumed he had run down the passage out of hearing already. Her fingers tingled, and she stared at them, curious how they still felt the pressure of his chest on her knuckles where she had held tight to his tunic. Tomorrow could not come soon enough.

Her breath caught in her throat. She had meant to tell him about seeing the man in red in the garden. She didn’t think a note would reach him before he got back to his meeting. And how could she be certain the wrong people wouldn’t see it? She would wait until she saw him again. If only he would not steal her thoughts away with a kiss, but she very much wanted to feel his lips on hers again.

She shuffled to her worktable and capped the inks, securing them in their slots before closing the case with a snap. “I suppose I should try to sleep, however impossible I think it will be.” She touched her lips and smiled.

~~~~~~~

She slept off and on, and at one point thought someone was in her room. Sitting up, she’d peered into the unlit space and called softly out to Russal. The wardrobe looked as it should, flush against the wall, and there was no movement to give away that someone waited in the darkness. She finally fell back to sleep, whispering his name into her pillow and feeling her lips brush the pillowcase, imagining it was the touch of his lips on her own.

Morning came, leaving her eyes squinting with sleepiness. She rolled over. Maybe she could sleep more. Maybe Russal would call to her at the end of her bed. She sat up. Perhaps he was asleep in the little room off the passage. Out of bed in a leap of cascading bedclothes, she dashed to the wardrobe and knocked a staccato beat on it. “Russal?” No answering knock or word emanated from behind the solid cabinet.

“Fine, I’ll go to the mess hall, shoot at the range, and try not to feel abandoned.”

A knock on her door sent her racing around through the doorway and into the sitting room. She yanked open the door. Baraby stood with his leather bag, Lessa beside him.

“Let’s look at that shoulder,” he said. “I hear you want to shoot arrows at defenseless straw targets.” He strode in, and Lessa grinned.

“Don’t let it be said I don’t support my friends, Kambry,” Lessa said, following the surgeon to the bedroom.

Kambry closed the door after giving the guard a comical look. His brows arched high on his forehead, and she realized she was still in her nightgown. She shook her head. All she had been thinking was that Russal had come to her door rather than enter through the passage.

It didn’t take long for Baraby to determine she was ready to shoot, telling her not to push her muscles much beyond their initial stiffness.

“You’re not healed, just improved,” he said as he packed the few items he’d used to check her shoulder and overall health. “The poultice did its job, and you’ve not overtaxed the muscles with unnecessary demands. You’re an excellent patient, unlike my usual clients. Even dismembered, they give me trouble.”

“Oh, when was the last time you dealt with a dismembered guard?” said Lessa. “Really, we’ve been fanatical about keeping our digits and appendages attached.”

“See.” He pointed at Lessa. “Even well, they disagree with me.” He patted Kambry’s shoulder and let himself out.

“So, breakfast?” Lessa asked. “Soon as I’m dressed.”

Lessa strolled to the worktable and perused the additions to the illustration. “I wish I could draw.” She leaned closer. “This is intricate.”

“Do you want to learn?”

Lessa chewed her lip, and her gaze wandered the image. “I could probably never do well enough to make it worth the

waste of ink and parchment.”

“You don’t practice with ink and parchment. I’d start you off with chalk and a slate. So not waste, but plenty of practice.”

“You mean I could erase anything I draw if I didn’t want anyone to see it.”

“Sure.”

She chewed her lip some more.

Kambry was certain all she needed was encouragement. “When is your free time?”

“Guards get little of that, but I am off for a bit after breakfast. Burtram has made some adjustments to the schedule because of the Grand Review tonight. Most of us will be on duty, so he gave us long breaks throughout the day to grab naps, a snack or just relax.” She looked up and stepped to Kambry’s side to assist with tucking in her shift. Kambry couldn’t quite reach the back without help. “Shooting will loosen your muscles up.”

“I’ll give you the first drawing lesson today after breakfast if you like. They don’t need my help to gather arrows anymore now that Kip has recovered,” said Kambry. She tugged at her sleeves and smoothed the bottom of her vest over her skirt trousers.

“Sure. You owe me after helping you get dressed for the last two days.”

Kambry faced her and snorted. “The least I can do for such grueling work.”

Lessa slapped her shoulder, and Kambry winced. They both laughed.

“We’re talking about my injured shoulder, and you forgot

about my injured shoulder.”

“Ah, it’s nearly healed.” She tugged Kambry out the door, and they headed for the mess hall, dodging servants and visiting lords and ladies.

“How many are coming for this review?” Kambry stared around her at the loitering groups. One woman stood berating Mrs. Kauper about the size of her chambers. Vases of flowers, stacks of bright-purple linens, and intricately engraved silver oil lamps passed by in a parade of organized chaos.

Lessa steered them down a side hall, which was less crowded, and back into the main foyer to the inner bailey. They arrived just as the trays were being set out on the trestle tables in the mess hall. The guards were lining up.

“Look, Kammy’s here rigged out for shooting,” called one guard, giving her a wave.

“Hold our place in line,” said Lessa, and she was out of sight in three strides.

Cole stepped up to Kambry. “I think Lessa is avoiding me,” he said.

“Oh, I can’t imagine why,” said Kambry. She worked to keep her face pleasantly innocent. She hadn’t thought Lessa was rushing away because of Cole. At least not this time. “She’ll be right back, I’m sure.”

He nodded, looking in the direction Lessa had gone, his eyebrows creased. “If you say so. How are you?”

“I’m allowed to shoot today.” She thought a moment. “Is there any way I can have someone watching behind me to make sure no arrows fly out of nowhere?”

He nodded. “Drew will be there. He’s your day guard.” He pointed. “See, he’s over by the gatepost, monitoring you and everyone around you. However, all of us are watching.”

She patted his arm. The edginess she’d been feeling seeped away from her shoulders. “That helps. Is Drew always my day guard?”

“Not every day. But Marshal Burtram assigned someone to you at all times. Usually, it’s Drew during the day and Gordy at night. I’ve put in a shift myself, but we’re not supposed to make you feel watched, so we keep out of sight.”

Lessa approached the line. “Will this work, Kambry?” She held out a slate and a warm lump of chalk.

Before Kambry could answer, Cole said. “What’s that for?”

She saw Lessa’s face blanch. Uncertain if it was because Cole was there or because she might tell Cole she was learning to draw, Kambry said, “That should work. I’m planning another drawing, and this will help me work out my ideas.”

“We keep a few in the armory for planning and last- minute instructions,” Lessa followed her lead. “This one’s an old one.”

They stood awkwardly in the line, moving forward as several guards stepped into the mess hall.

Cole shuffled his feet. “How’ve you been, Lessa? I haven’t seen you about.”

“I’ve been in the practice field a lot.”

“You don’t go by Lottie’s much anymore.” “No. I’ve been busy.”

“I’ll leave you two to your breakfast.” Cole stepped back and headed to the end of the line.

“Lessa, I thought you two were friends.”

“We are.” She looked ahead as if she were seeing how much longer they had to wait to get to the trestle tables. “You know, I think it’s better when we get here late because you’re not ready. We don’t have to wait for the food then.”

“That wasn’t friendly.”

“I was saying it was good that you always made us late.” “I was talking about Cole. You’re not friendly to Cole

anymore.”

Lessa folded her arms and strode inside. Kambry followed her and tapped her on the shoulder.

When Lessa looked back, she tipped her head at Kambry, annoyed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I do,” Kambry said.

“Well, not right now.” Lessa looked at the guards in front and behind them.

“Okay. But we will talk about this.”

Lessa squinted her eyes at her. “So we’ll be talking about a certain fellow with braids in his hair, too, I suppose.”

“If it requires training, sure.”

Lessa didn’t look pleased Kambry agreed.

They soon had their food and ate, Kambry attempting to have a discussion between mouthfuls. Lessa glared over the proilis blooms on their table as she shoved fried eggs and potatoes in her mouth.

“Stuffing your face is not an adequate excuse for not talking,” Kambry said. “No one can hear us. Why don’t you want Cole to know you like him, a lot?”

“I don’t like him, a lot,” she growled. She leaned closer to the table. “Does Prince Russal know you like him a lot?”

“Yes.”

Lessa sat back. “He does?” She reached for the chalk and doodled on the slate.

“I said yes.” She firmed her gaze and placed her hand on Lessa’s, stopping her erratic circles. “Now answer my question. Why don’t you want Cole to know you like him a lot?”

“Because we’re just friends,” Lessa said, emphasizing each word and dragging her hand out from under Kambry’s.

“That’s only because you won’t let him be more.”

Lessa lowered her voice. “He doesn’t want to be more.”

Kambry slid the flowers aside and leaned close. “I promise you he wants more.”

“How can you know that?” Her voice came out high- pitched, and she shoved a mouthful of eggs in, keeping her attention on her plate.

“I’m on the outside looking at both of you. You keep looking away, so you’re missing all those long glances and disappointed slumps.”

“He does not slump.”

“He does when you won’t give him the time of day.”

She was quiet a moment, chewing and looking everywhere but at Kambry. “Does he really take long looks?”

“He’s doing it right now.”

Lessa whipped her head around. The two caught each other looking.

Kambry giggled when neither could look away and both flushed. “There you go. Long look.” She stretched the word out while Lessa’s flush deepened.

Lessa straightened in her seat and stared at her plate. “This will be very uncomfortable.”

“Yup. I’m not speaking from experience, but it would seem that you two have an awkward conversation in your future.” She grinned. “Isn’t that exciting?”

Lessa raised her eyes and snorted. “Sort of. Maybe.

Yeah.”

“Maybe we should hold off your lesson until tomorrow.

You and Cole can talk during your break.”

“No.” Lessa’s eyes widened. “I’m not ready. Let’s do the lesson.” Her chalk-dusted hand shook as she raised her fork. “He and I will talk sometime. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Sure, he’ll wait until tomorrow after that long stare. Patient man there. Maybe he’ll even wait a couple days.” Kambry rolled her eyes and snagged the chalk and board and put them in her lap.

“Stop needling me,” Lessa said.

“Fine. Excuse me a moment. I want some more water.” Kambry got up and hurried away, sneaking the chalk and slate out of sight. She turned just before exiting the mess hall and grinned as Cole sat down in her vacated seat.

Drew caught up with her outside and walked with her to the range where they stood and chatted while the archers practiced. Burty watched her shoot long enough to confirm she wasn’t creating poor habits while she was warming up. He warned her not to shoot for very long.

“Tomorrow, we’ll start working on your aim again,” he said before returning to his office. “Today, just get your muscles loosened up.”

Drew made her stop when her arrows started missing the target altogether. He walked her to the garden and then drifted away, assuring her he’d be close by.

Kambry went straight to the maze. Knowing Drew would remain close reduced her worry of seeing the man in red, and she hoped Russal might approach her. Konnelby wasn’t even aware she was there. He was directing the removal of plants, and a boy stretched out the plans every few minutes when Konnelby needed to consult his notes.

Gardeners and male and female apprentices were everywhere, trimming up or taking down some part of the maze. She finally gave up even trying to get a sense of the intentions.

A rose garden kept her entertained for a while, but she spent most of her time eyeing every male gardener of the correct size and shape, hoping to find Russal. She caught Drew a few times in the edge of her vision. He was good at keeping out of sight. Perhaps that was why she didn’t see Russal. Drew was just too observant for the prince to sneak a visit with her.

When Drew approached her, it was to guide her to see Sybil. The office was empty of her assistants this time, and Sybil was quick to have her seated.

“I’m worried, Kambry,” she said, though her face was as calm as usual, her neat uniform and wild bun on the top of her head still in contentious disagreement with each other.

“What about? Is Russal, Prince Russal, in any danger?”

“I’m getting more of a sense of your future. You’re surrounded by danger, and I am picking up emotions in the prince that suggest he is distraught.”

She didn’t like the idea of Russal troubled. There had to be a way to prepare in advance. “What kind of danger? What can I do to keep him safe?”

Sybil went to her bookshelves and pulled and pushed at the books, straightening them as she went along. “It’s a feeling I have, Kambry. Someone close to you, physically, I don’t know if you know them. But they’re close to you, and you’re unhappy.”

The closest person to her was Russal. He’d never endanger her. Lessa, Cole, Drew and Gordy only made her feel safe. Who else was close to her? Burty, but again, she couldn’t believe he’d do her any harm. Unhappy? “I could have spilled ink on my drawing for Lady Condori. That would make me unhappy. Who is this person who’s close to me?”

“This isn’t spilled ink.” She turned from the shelves. “The person is the man who was in your chambers days ago. Have you seen anyone suspicious?”

“Prince Russal didn’t tell you a man tried to get me to leave with him before they put me in the guards’ prison?”

“He did. The prince was furious I hadn’t forewarned him about that,” she said, giving Kambry the impression she held herself responsible. “Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”

“I’m not sure. The man I met in the corridor was in the garden, inside the maze, yesterday, and he spoke to me.”

“Have you told the prince?”

“I planned to at dinner last night, but he was busy in meetings. I hope to tell him tonight.”

“He knows.” She stared at Kambry.

“Because you felt it,” Kambry said. “What does he think?

Will this man approach me again tonight?”

“I know he will. Stay close to the prince. We don’t know who this man is, but he seems to have access to wherever you are.”

Kambry twisted the ring about her thumb. It had been almost blue twice in the brief time she’d been with Sybil, and she suspected Sybil knew more than she was sharing. She jerked her head up. “Do you have something I can draw with? Let me sketch him for you.”

Sybil found a blank sheet and a stub of graphite and set them before Kambry.

She closed her eyes. The first time she’d seen the red man they’d walked side by side in the hall, and she’d felt it was inappropriate to stare at someone likely to be a lord or other upper-class individual. With the poor lighting and her upset, she failed to note the man’s face in Burty’s office. Besides, he remained behind the door the entire time. When the man in red had showed up in the garden, the sun had glared in her eyes. Odd that she hadn’t gotten a clear image of him, but each time some aspect of his face had come into view: his profile, a firm chin, and brown eyes, the side of his nose and an upturned mouth. Her artistic mind should be able to combine the pieces. Tall and slender, a shape well-balanced in form, dark curly hair.

She worked at the sketch, using the two right-hand views of his face to create a symmetrical appearance with a square jawline. Sybil stood at her shoulder and watched.

“About what height would you say?”

“Taller than the prince by several inches.”

“That’s my impression of him, too.” She shook her head. “Hmm. There’s something familiar, but I can’t think what it is.”

“I wish I’d gotten a better look at him.”

“I’m sure he took advantage of every opportunity to limit that.” She paced along her shelves, straightening books and bound ledgers. She faced Kambry, her look one of sudden concern. “Stay out of the garden, especially the maze. There is

danger there. It’s important you take a direct effort at maintaining your safety. None of this ‘nobody cares about me, so I won’t even try’ stuff.”

She wasn’t that person anymore. Was she? Passively waiting for someone else to rescue her from any conflict that came her way? She’d waved her knife at Russal. She grimaced. That had hardly worried him, and she hadn’t been in any danger. People cared about her. She knew that. But what could she do to protect herself and Russal?

Kambry wished there was more to go on. “What do you see happening in the garden?”

“It’s not a vision, just a strong feeling. There is danger in the garden for you. Lies and deceit follow.”

“And for Russal? Is the garden safe for him?”

Sybil’s eyes unfocused for a moment. An eyebrow raised. “Go back to your room,” she said and crossed to the desk. “It’s safest there for you now. Keep several people about you at all times when you are out.” She fingered the drawing on the desk. “We can hope that Prince Russal will recognize him.”

Sybil hurried her out, and Drew walked her back to her room.

“Drew, if I have to protect myself, what’s a simple thing I can do?”

He stared at her for a long moment. “You run.”

“What if I can’t run? What if he has ahold of me?”

“Stamp on his instep, hard. Like you mean it. He’ll go down. Then you run.”

“Anything else?”

“Go for the eyes. Dig in hard with your nails. Then you run.”