CHAPTER 45
Cap
Whipping out his bow, Cap nocked an arrow. But something blue reflected the candlelight.
“Gust.”
The air in the room gathered into a burst of wind that shoved Cap’s arrow aside. Instead of hitting its mark, it buried itself in the wooden door. Just like in the raid.
“Can’t we have a civilized conversation?” General Valentin sighed. “You always were too quick with that bow of yours. Just as you were too quick to disappear out that secret passage whenever you wanted a moment alone.”
“What makes you think I’ve used it before?” Cap eyed the sapphire in the General’s hand. It was the proof he needed, but how to get it? “You don’t know who I am.”
The General shook his head. “You can drop the act; I’ve known your identity for months. How else could I send the perfect little lady into your arms?” The corner of his mouth pulled up in a satisfied smirk. “She did her job well, didn’t she?”
The mention of Margit caught Cap off-guard, bringing all his twisted emotions back to the front of his mind. “I don’t believe you,” he ground out. “Margit knew nothing about you when I first met her.” General Valentin was just twisting the situation to his advantage, mixing truth with lies.
The General’s eyebrows rose. “Do you honestly believe that a spirited, old language-loving, young archeress just happened to drop into your lap? Heavens, my boy, I thought you were smart.”
“She’s with the General!”
It was a misunderstanding.
“She showed up in Amitié begging for sanctuary from her unwanted suitors,” the General continued carelessly, taking a step forward. “When I suggested this little job, she jumped at the chance. Seemed to think tricking you would be an adventure.”
“She sneered at the idea of a princess being with an outlaw.”
She was out of his reach now, but they’d had something. He hadn’t imagined it.
“I wouldn’t care if the entire Ralnoran court were here. I would pick you over any of those fools.”
“What would it take for you to go home? Will you take me with you?”
How could that have been a lie?
As if he could read Cap’s thoughts, the General added, “Acting runs in her family, you know. Her brother has become a regular performer at the Himmelsburg theater since you ran off to the woods. She clearly shares his talent.”
Reeling, Cap stumbled back through the doorway, then raced for the secret passageway. He slammed the hidden door and leaned against it, listening for sounds of pursuit. The door locked automatically, but the General might have a key.
Had she only been acting? Or had it been real?
Cap shoved away from the door, staggering blindly down the passage. He needed time to sort the truth from the lies before he faced Margit again. He couldn’t let her trap him if Tucker was right. If General Valentin was telling the truth.
Because it was all plausible. And Tucker said they were betrothed, and Margit was Princess Helena, and—
Heavens, he hoped the General was lying. Cap’s judgment had been growing worse, but surely he hadn’t misjudged her loyalties, her feelings, so badly.
His initial belief that she was a spy was wrong. Marielle would have warned him.
Unless she didn’t know either.
Space. He needed space, and he wouldn’t find it in the castle.
But he couldn’t deal with people right now, so the park was out.
He would take his favorite path, the one that ended just inside the woods.
The one he was sworn to reveal to no one, not even his closest friends, lest an enemy learn of its direct access to the castle.
His feet slowed. Since when did General Valentin know about the secret passages, let alone that Cap frequented them? If he knew about the door just now, what other exits was he familiar with?
The General couldn’t watch all of them, but he had plenty of guards to do it for him. And he hadn’t felt compelled to follow when Cap fled.
Cap had sent his friends into a trap.
Turning, he jogged back to the passage he’d just left. The nearest empty suite had a balcony; he could climb down from it before any lurking guards noticed.
He paused before working the lever for the bookcase, sliding aside a thin piece of wood and peering through a peephole to watch for movement. A lit candle suggested the suite wasn’t as empty as he had thought.
When he saw no sign of a guard, he carefully opened the hidden door and slid into the bedroom, closing the bookcase silently so he wouldn’t alert anyone in the next room.
“Not another step. Hands where I can see them, please.”
A woman? No, not just any woman.
Slowly turning, Cap raised his hands. His heart lurched at the sight of Margit’s beautiful form. But her drawn arrow was pointed at him.
“So, General Valentin was telling the truth,” he bit out between clenched teeth. “You really were his spy.”
Her hands dropped. “Cap? What in the heavens are you doing here?”
“What do you think?” He gazed at her, his eyes hungrily taking her in. She was unharmed, but he should have expected that, given the General’s words.
“You…you actually came for me?”
“Always,” Cap said softly. His heart hardened as he glanced around the room that he had expected to be unoccupied. “But I guess you knew that, didn’t you? And that’s why I found your precious Valentin waiting in my quarters. A fine trap the two of you have concocted for me.”
“Ugh, don’t call him that.” Her expression twisted into one of disgust as she returned her arrow to its quiver. “As soon as I free the others, I’m running away to Castellia. I don’t have the patience to endure any more, even if that means I can’t prove your prince’s innocence.”
Cap raised an eyebrow. “My prince?”
Her disgust shifted to confusion. “Wait, your quarters? The barracks don’t seem like a smart place for an outlaw.”
He blinked at her. Hadn’t the General told her? “My quarters aren’t in the barracks.”
“Where else would a guard live? Except perhaps a house in the city, but then how are you in a trap?”
“I’m not a guard.” Watching her carefully, he said, “And you aren’t a noblewoman, are you, Princess Helena?”
She pursed her lips and fingered the arrows in her quiver. He’d never seen her do that before. “Then the General was correct.” She looked away. “You knew, and you only wanted me for my title.”
“You truly believe that?” He stepped closer.
“You think I would have kept a princess in the woods and taken her on raids? I would have returned you to Marielle as soon as the weather allowed, broken ankle or not.” He shook his head on a sigh.
“Your father and brother will be furious with me when they find out.”
“Why would you care what the king and prince of a foreign kingdom think?” she scoffed. “It’s not like you were planning to marry me.”
He flared his nostrils, trying to calm his inner turmoil. “Not once I learned your name. If I’d known you were the Ralnoran princess, I would have kept my distance.”
She strode forward, fire blazing in her eyes. “Why?” she demanded, stopping a foot away from him. “Isn’t a princess good enough for you?”
“Isn’t an outlaw good enough for you?” he retorted. “Not according to Tucker.”
Her eyebrows pulled together before she blew out a heavy breath. “You weren’t supposed to hear that. Tucker claimed there was something between us in front of General Valentin. I didn’t want him to think he could use me to lure you in.”
“Like he did, you mean?”
Margit—Princess Helena—scowled. “I didn’t ask you to rescue me.”
Cap took a step forward. “But you knew I would.”
“I hoped you wouldn’t.” Her voice was quiet, her green eyes soft now as she lifted them to his. “You would have been safer if you hadn’t.”
She was so close. So very, very close.
Fighting to keep his hands from reaching out to her, Cap took a deep breath and eased himself backward. It didn’t matter if she worried about him. It didn’t matter if she was alluring in the candlelight.
If it took his mind back to the last time they’d seen each other.
The same memory must have occurred to her, because she followed him, eyes fixed on his before drifting down as she set her free hand on his shoulder.
“But since you did come…I do believe the General interrupted something before. Unless you were only toying with me to gain my support for the prince?”
His right hand drifted forward to brush her arm. “I wasn’t.” He swallowed. “But we can’t.”
“And why not?” Her eyes flashed as they jumped back to his. “You were perfectly willing not that long ago.”
He was still willing. Much too willing. The fire in those green eyes beckoned him, but he restrained himself. “You’re as good as betrothed.”
“The General and I are not betrothed,” she scoffed.
“By your council,” Cap managed. “They want you to marry a Ralnoran nobleman.”
Rolling her eyes, she leaned into him and challenged, “I told you months ago that the council had required me to choose a husband. That didn’t stop you when you thought I was a noblewoman. Does it make such a difference that I’m a princess?”
“Yes,” he whispered. His hand twitched at his side. “I expected them to consider me an acceptable alternative for a noblewoman.”
“But not for a princess?” Helena stuffed her bow in its sheath, then ran her hand behind his neck.
Did she know how hard it was to resist her?
“The council didn’t actually say I have to marry a Ralnoran, or even a nobleman.
They just want me to raise my children back home.
” She smirked. “In truth, the only Amitian they can object to is Crown Prince Raphael.”
Finally relenting, he let his hand drift up to caress her face. “And that’s why,” he whispered, gazing at her sadly.
Her jaw dropped. Stepping back, she shoved him in the chest. “That’s not funny, Cap. You shouldn’t tease like that.”
To his dismay, he saw tears in her eyes. But it was a mirror of his own distress. “No, it isn’t funny. My life would be much simpler if I were almost anyone else.”
“But you’re—” Helena pulled his hood off, staring at his hair as if it could give her the answers she sought. “I saw a portrait in General Valentin’s office. All three royal children had auburn hair.”
“Rouge insisted I dye it. She said it would protect me from chance encounters when someone glimpsed my face.”
Her mouth flopped as if she was still struggling to assimilate this information. “But Erwan—Erwan recognized you.”
He shrugged. “Erwan has known me for years, and he’s good with faces.”
Helena ran her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and tried not to enjoy it. “It looks so natural,” she mused. “But I can see the redder color at the roots.”
“Jean-haut has a way with plants,” he explained. “He and Rouge worked together to make something that looked right and didn’t smell.”
Her face crumpled. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her forehead to his shoulder and wailed.
She’d never cried in front of him before. Not like this.
Telling himself that one more time wouldn’t hurt, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close while her fingers dug into his shoulders.
And it was the last time. Once they escaped, he would send her to Marielle. Even if he left the forest before she left Amitié, he could never hold her like this again. Not when she was destined to marry someone else.
“So it’s really true?” she murmured against his shoulder. “You really are the crown prince?”
Before he could respond, another voice spoke up. “He is. And I’ll thank him to keep his hands off my beautiful fiancée.”