The Wrong Prince (18 page)

GEO FIDGETED RESTLESSLY BESIDE LUCIE as the door cocked ajar. Out scampered the shorthaired girl, ducking her face from view. If Lucie didn’t know any better, she’d have thought the youth was distraught. But perhaps she was only projecting her own distress upon the girl.

Lucie rested a hand on her narrow shoulder. “Please be careful,” she advised her. “Battle is waging on the lower floors.”

The maiden paused. “I shall keep to my quarters, then,” she replied stiffly. “As I should have been doing, all along,” she muttered, resuming the steps.

As soon as she’d gone, Prince Dmitri emerged, eyes somewhat bleary behind his lenses. Unsure of how else to greet him, Lucie dropped into an awkward curtsey. He smiled politely, and took her left hand. Fine flaxen eyebrows joined together as he examined the iron ring fastened around her wrist. While the chain binding her hand to Geo’s had been broken, the manacle itself would require a locksmith to release, once they arrived home.

If
they arrived home.

“Interesting choice for a nuptial bracelet,” he remarked, and Lucie froze. The Crown Prince was speaking to her of nuptial bracelets? Right—they were still engaged. At her vacant expression, he provided another small grin. “I jest,” he verified, and kissed her hand.

“Oh.” Lucie blushed as he relinquished her.

“I, um…must extend my utmost gratitude,” he said. “I still cannot believe you journeyed with my brother all this way to rescue me. Never in my wildest imaginings would I have expected such a feat of you, Miss…Cameron?”

“Camerlane,” grunted Geo, pounding his brother’s back. “Come on, people. Am I the only one with a pulse? Let’s move!”

“About time,” said Cerise, although she appeared satisfied, following the men down the endless maze of stairs.

Lucie accompanied them, her hand tickling where the Crown Prince had kissed it. She watched Geo’s broad back as they descended the steps, heat suffusing her face at the thought of what had transpired between them in the dungeon. What now? She wondered desperately. Her secret was out, and Geo had proclaimed his love for her in return. Yet, would she still be required to marry Dmitri?

In spite of her heartwarming reconnection with Geo, she was beginning to feel increasingly wretched. After everything Dmitri had endured—abduction, imprisonment, and who knew what else?—did he deserve to lose his bride too? The man warranted more than a wife who could never love him, she reasoned. But how could Lucie administer the blow to him, and not to mention, to her father?

And what would happen to Geo if she did? Would he be held responsible, publically shamed, scorned for his impropriety? Would the younger prince be accused of treachery against the heir to the throne? Such a crime was punishable by death!

Lucie shivered, commanding her thoughts to rest. She had to focus on their flight down the tower. She could hardly see where she was going as the wooden steps converted into ones of stone.

“Ouch,” murmured Cerise, and Lucie apologized for grazing her heel. They glided down, step by step, Lucie silently praying that no Llewesians would be present to greet them at the final stair.

“Here’s the plan,” came Geo’s voice from the front of the line. “There’s a walled courtyard not far from this passage, on the ground floor. We’ll take that way out.”

“If it’s walled,” countered his brother, “how will we escape?”

Geo glanced over his shoulder. “Cerise, do you still have that lariat?”

“Do you see a lariat?” she grumbled. “No. I left it behind.”

Geo huffed. “All right, here’s another plan.”

Lucie listened from the back of the procession as he devised a new exit strategy. Namely, it comprised of snatching anything and everything in the vicinity to use for a weapon, and wildly brandishing it while they escaped through the front door. “If we’re lucky,” he went on, “our men will have eliminated most of the guards from our way.”

“I don’t know, Your Highness.” Cerise’s tone was doubtful. “I saw plenty of soldiers stationed outdoors.”

Geo cursed under his breath. Lucie almost suggested the Atasi’s passage from the dungeons, but the idea was far from practical. If men were still battling down there, it was unlikely their group could pass through and depart unscathed.

“There’s another possibility,” offered Dmitri, although somewhat tentatively. “My…friend, Pavola, might know a way out. She’s been at Wintersea her whole life.”

“The girl who led us up the tower?” Geo clarified. “But where has she gone?”

Lucie recalled her brief interaction with the young woman. “She said something about keeping to her quarters.”

Geo looked at Dmitri as they reached another landing. “Do you know where that might be?”

The man was quiet for a moment. “I’ve not been there, obviously,” he said at last. “But she’s described the location to me in detail. I’ll bet I can find it.”

“Who is she, Dmitri?” asked his brother, as Lucie wondered the same.

The elder prince did not answer.

The ground floor met them with a blast of echoes resounding down the corridors. Swords rang, men hollered, but thankfully, no one was in their immediate line of sight. Dmitri set off past the courtyard and veered right, the others jogging behind him.

After filing by what appeared to be a series of servants’ quarters, they turned another corner and approached a vacant hall. All fell eerily silent. Dmitri slowed his steps, guiding them to a single door that hung ajar. The chamber within was dark.

They crept inside. Moonlight gleamed through the window above a bureau piled neatly with scrolls and books, and the shadow of a camp bed, tidily made, rested at Lucie’s right. Dmitri went to the desk and gently thumbed through the scrolls. “These are hers,” he whispered. “This must be it.”

“She isn’t here.” Geo tightened his grip around the axe. “But good thinking.” He indicated the window with a cock of his head. “Shall I?” He lifted the axe, but Dmitri gave him a funny look.

“Why not check to see if it opens first?” he suggested.

Lucie and Cerise exchanged tiny grins.

Together, the princes unlatched the window. It bowed out, allowing ample space for a body to climb through. Geo extended a hand. “Brother, you first.”

“One second.” The Crown Prince reached into his jacket and withdrew an impressive pile of parchment. With a small exhalation, he placed it on the bureau, and rested a stone paperweight atop it. For several moments, he merely stood nodding to himself, as though coming to a critical decision. Lucie looked to Geo, who only shrugged.

At last, Dmitri climbed onto the desk and lowered himself through the window. “For being on the ground floor,” he grunted, slipping down, “we’re farther from the ground than one would think.”

They heard him land with a thud before he rose, dusting off his sleeves. “Miss Camerlane?” He outstretched his arms to her.

Cricket calls and whispering locusts invited Lucie out to the night’s air as she mounted the wooden desk. She cast an involuntary glance at the stack of parchments he had left there, but couldn’t make out the runes scrawled across them. Angling her legs out the window, she slid down and into the man’s arms.

He was quick to release her, and the two proceeded to help Cerise, and then Geo. “Right,” sighed Dmitri at last, casting his eyes about the dark lawn. “I have absolutely no idea where we are.”

The four headed across the grounds, led by Geo and Cerise. Lucie did her best to keep pace, until they reached a familiar trench. They stopped, gazing down at the moat. “Guess we’ll just have to swim again,” said Geo, dropping the axe to unfasten his shirt.

Lucie peered into the thick waters and grimaced. How she dreaded submerging back into that sickly, stinking pool. But if it was their only choice—

“Not so fast,” came a snarl behind them.

“Oh, what
now
?” cried Lucie furiously, swiveling around to discover a Llewesian guard pointing an impressive sword at them. She bore her teeth. These miserable men had had her at their mercy one time to many. She was not about to let yet another of the fools—

Whack.

An ungodly scream assaulted her ears, and the guard’s sword flew into the grass, bloody fingers still gripping it. The guard stood in place, shrieking at the loss of his hand, as Prince Dmitri brought down the axe he’d just wielded.

Geo gaped at his brother. “Thank God I dropped that.”

“Thank God my brother taught me well.” Dmitri handed him back the axe and picked up the Llewesian sword for himself. Lucie nearly vomited as he pried the guard’s detached hand from the hilt.

They glanced down into the moat again, their victim writhing behind them, when a trio of Tybirian knights appeared. The shock on the Crown Prince’s face was tangible. “Aidan? Cardwell?”

“Your Highness!” They bowed enthusiastically.

“But, I thought you were—!”

“Well, well.” Cerise brushed past Lucie, sauntering up to the third knight. “Mr. Wilhelm Wagner.” Her red eyes narrowed.

Sir Will held out his hands, his grin conveying a pang of discomfort. “Cerise, my pet….”

“You owe me,” she hissed, cutting him off. “You think I’d forget a man who walks out before paying his dues?”

“I simply hadn’t the funds at the time, love,” Will whined under his voice, but Geo intervened.

“Whatever he owes you, I’ll match,” he assured the woman. “Consider his debts paid.” He shot Will an irritated look before turning to the others. “What is going on?”

“You’re dead,” Dmitri blurted to the knights.

“Clearly, they aren’t, Dmitri,” snapped his brother.

Lucie placed a tentative hand on the Crown Prince’s shoulder. “It’s sort of an involved story, Your Highness,” she said kindly. “We’ll explain it to you when we have more—”

“The battle ended as soon as the maidservants rushed downstairs screaming that the king had been slain,” Sir Aidan answered Geo. “We’ve examined the body; indeed, Ira is gone.”

“Nice work,” Will muttered out of the side of his mouth to Cerise. The curvy woman only sighed.

“Some of the guards are determined to fulfill their duties to the deaths, but most have surrendered.” Aidan mopped his brow. “At any rate, the drawbridge is clear. You are free to go.”

“How’s Kieran?” asked Geo in concern. “Philip, Graden…?”

Lucie softened as she watched him. In spite of being safe to flee, the prince first wished to ascertain the well-being of his men.

“Fine, all fine,” attested Aidan.

Geo looked relieved. “Very well. Tell our boys to raid the stables, seize Wintersea’s horses, and meet us on the road. We’re getting a head start.” He swatted his brother’s arm. “I want to spirit this bloke out of here at once.”

“As you wish, sir,” bowed the knights, and departed them.

THEY ARMED THEMSELVES WITH ALL the Llewesian weaponry they could pilfer before crossing the drawbridge in record time. At last, Geo, Dmitri, Lucie and Cerise reached the path from the fortress, only to intersect a crew of ladies on horseback.

“Cerise,” greeted the aging woman in front, whose hair was stacked into a hive-like shape. Geo recognized her as Madame Hollie. The two young women who’d diverted the guards on their first attempt to infiltrate Wintersea were also present. “Vi and Astrid suggested we might find you here. We grew concerned when the hour was so late and you’d still not returned.”

Cerise thanked them. “Any chance we can spare a pair of horses for my friends? They’ve more than compensated me.”

Madame Hollie motioned for a duo of girls in back to vacate their animals. They did, and climbed up to share their companions’ saddles. Cerise took hold of the creatures’ reins and led them to Geo.

He opened his mouth, intending to summon Lucie to ride with him, but stopped short. Lucie was still Dmitri’s fiancée, wasn’t she? How untoward of him to steal her out from under the man, and insist upon riding with her back to Tybiria. Sure, Geo and Lucie were lovers…but Dmitri didn’t know that. And after everything his poor brother had gone through, how could Geo tell him? And what would be the consequences if—?

Cerise interrupted his worries with an unexpected peck on the cheek. “Pleasure doing business with you.” She joined Madame Hollie upon her spotted horse. “I’m sorry it couldn’t have worked out between us,” she teased. “But you understand.”

Geo smirked. “I’ll be in touch, Cerise.”

“I know you will.”

Madame Hollie clicked her tongue, commanding the steeds to lift their hooves, and her girls rounded down the gravel path. A few lifted their hands in farewell.

Geo cleared his throat. “Dmitri, how about you and Lucie share this one?” He stroked the dark mane of the stallion before him. Without awaiting a response, he selected the other, and mounted it alone. He couldn’t wait to distance himself as far as possible from Wintersea. He wagered Dmitri felt the same—amplified one thousand-fold.

They rode down the path, finally putting the fortress behind them. Within the next few hours, the knights caught up, riding Llewesian steeds. They cheered in victory, disregarding the late hour, and began the journey home. As he rode between the princes, Sir Aidan relayed the story of the Atasi’s rescue of the fallen knights in the moons past, for Dmitri’s benefit.

“Eventually,” said the knight, “when the tribesmen suspected an old passage of lore might actually exist, and could even lead straight into Wintersea, we planned right then to free you ourselves, Your Highness. But we took several wrong turns and were lost underground for days.” Aidan nodded at Geo, then Lucie. “Yet, good thing we arrived precisely when we did.”

“Amen,” murmured Lucie behind Dmitri, and Geo looked away. He knew it wasn’t her fault, but the sight of her arms around his brother’s waist perturbed him.

Trekking across Llewes with the army resulted in a surprisingly more efficient experience. For one, they traveled at longer intervals, and on an organized schedule. They also had little to fear when crossing through villages this time; news was quick spreading that King Ira was dead, and no one was willing to challenge his conquerors.

It was late one of their final evenings on the road when they made camp, and shared the rations they had acquired in town. Will was entertaining Lucie with one of his outlandish stories, and Geo closed his eyes at the sound of her laughter. How it brightened his soul. If only he could be the one to make her laugh like that, forevermore.

He reopened his eyes guiltily, resting them upon his brother. Dmitri sat by his lonesome beneath a mammoth pine tree, gazing into the flames of the bonfire. He had been unusually quiet the last many days, riddling Geo with a sense of loss. What had happened to his lighthearted brother in that prison? What sort of scars must the fellow be suffering?

Coming to a decision, Geo rose and went over to him. “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

Dmitri shook his head.

Geo lowered himself onto a patch of grass beside him, and drew an eyeful of the night sky. “Ah. I see why you like this spot. You can see the stars so very clearly.”

“Can I?” said Dmitri absently, still staring into the fire.

Geo cleared his throat. He detected something swollen between them, weighty and impermeable, as though Dmitri harbored as many secrets as Geo did. The concept was altogether alien; the brothers historically kept little from each other.

Well, it was time to empty the first stone from his sack, so to speak, and alleviate some of the burden. Geo took a breath. “Oy, Dmitri…I owe you an apology.”

Dmitri looked at him.

“A massive apology.” Geo leaned against the pine. “It should’ve been me locked up in that prison.”

“No, it shouldn’t have,” muttered Dmitri, eyes returning to the fire.

Geo blinked. “Yes,” he argued, “it should. Because I think I was the one who killed Prince Weyland. Not you. I fired your arrow, remember?”

“We shot at the same time.” Dmitri waved him off. “Who knows who struck the kid?”

Geo fell silent as firelight danced across his brother’s empty expression. As always, Dmitri held nothing against him, did not blame Geo for his plight. Geo knew he ought to be grateful, but couldn’t help feeling disturbed at how little the other man seemed to care.

“Well,” Geo exhaled, “if it was my arrow, I’m sorry.”

Dmitri shrugged. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Oh, but there was. They sat in silence as their friends, on the other side of the bonfire, played card games and compared battle scars, oblivious to the two heavy-hearted princes. Many times, Geo considered telling Dmitri about Lucie, wondered how to articulate their relationship, and debated over exactly how much to tell him. Each time, the words dissolved on his tongue. After all, what could he say to his only brother, who sat at his side, already looking so lost and forlorn?
‘Oh, by the way, while you were wrongfully imprisoned for a murder that I most likely committed, I went ahead and fell in love with your fiancée, and she professed her love for me too’
? The idea seemed beyond cruel.

He watched Lucie across the fire, her lips wrapping into a smile as she listened to a joke from Philip. Geo had never felt more torn. The more he loved her, the deeper he betrayed his brother. He would have to come to a decision, and soon. Only, he knew not the price of his confession…or his silence.