Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
S mitty had let us sleep in the shop on the condition that I make him another knife, matching the one from the day before. A task which Molly amazingly slept through, despite the noise and how long it took me.
The second blade was more time-consuming than the first, because there had been no basic shape, and the hunk of steel was as raw as it could get. But all in all, I didn’t mind. The repetitive nature of the task allowed my mind to plan, sifting through every possible pitfall and every potential benefit that came along with working alongside the royal falconer.
“Good job,” Smitty said as he met us the next morning with a heel of bread and hunk of yellow cheese in hand.
“You haven’t even seen it yet.”
“I know your work. You did a good job, or you’d still be at it.” He strode to the anvil and picked up the blade that matched the first I’d made, down to the etched pattern. “You come on back if you want to apprentice.”
I smiled, warmth suffusing me. This was a rare offer, with no ties, no strings. “I’m headed to train with Bertrand, at Relyk’s…command.”
His amber eyes whipped to mine. “Bertrand. The Falconer…he’s a grumpy old bastard.”
Ugh. I didn’t need a grumpy bastard watching over me.
“But you don’t want to cross Relyk, so you best be heading out.”
I gave Smitty a nod. “Thanks. For everything.”
He shrugged his wide shoulders and spared a quick wave Molly’s way. “Get on with you then, but come back when you need.”
Molly, Fetch and I left the warmth of the forge and headed back through the shroud to Little Alabaster, then made the trek over the palace grounds. We made it to the palace guard house just before noon.
While our plan made sense, adages about “keeping your enemies closer” or “hiding where they’d least expect” did little to convince my pounding heart that we were on the right track. The palace was danger, no matter how I looked at it. And it was clear, as Molly’s already labored steps slowed even more, that she was feeling the same way.
I glanced at the beds of flowers and shrubs that lined the palace walls, marveling. One of the most striking things about Little Alabaster was the vividness and color of it all, even in winter. Like they’d sucked the vibrancy right out of The Hollow and dropped it here... Just like they had with everything else worth having.
The row of guards came into view, and I turned to Moll. “Remember, quiet from here on.” I shrugged as she shot me a look. “Sorry…again, but we just have to go with it at this point.”
She dipped her head in a resigned nod, her lips pressed tight together.
I hefted our sack of meagre possessions higher on my shoulder as we approached the guard gate, doing my best to keep up the appearance of carrying something heavy. We’d been asked to bring our belongings, and it seemed strange to show up without anything, so we’d resorted to filling the sacks we had with sticks and stones and bringing those along.
The guard inside the gatehouse looked up as we approached.
“State your business.”
His voice was formal, matching his crisp, unwrinkled uniform, but there was no trace of the disdain we’d gotten from guards previously.
“Hello,” I said, trying and failing to keep the nerves from my voice. “We’re here to—uh… Prince Duncan asked us to come here and move our things into a hut on palace grounds. Relyk said to?—”
He glanced at the leather pad on my shoulder, nodding as the realization dawned. “The new falconer…Ella, right? Where’s your bird?”
“Yes.” I let out a quick whistle, and Fetch swooped down to me by the time the guard began his reply.
He pulled on some kind of lever, then gestured toward the gate. “This way. I’ll take you over.”
The ground rumbled beneath our feet, and I turned to see the massive gate rolling open. The dozens of carved figures and symbols stood out in the afternoon sun, with the large, pyramidal crest at the center sticking out most of all. Layers of increasingly vibrant colors filled the triangle, culminating in a gleaming, pearly white at the top.
The royal crest was a permanent reminder of the crown’s supremacy, and of the inferiority of everything beneath it. Anger flashed through me as my eyes fixed on the putrid brown at the bottom, representing the Hollow, and I prayed it didn’t show on my face.
The guard stepped out to meet us, halting in front of the half-opened gate. He eyed the bag. “Need any help with that?”
“We‘re fine,” I answered, a little too fast. I winced at the light crunching sound that cut through the air as I made a show of hefting the bag further up my shoulder.
He raised an eyebrow at me, but shrugged, stepping toward the gate. “Follow me.”
I strode through behind him, a wave of pure awe washing over me as the palace itself came into view. The inside had been beautiful on the night of the jubilee, but seeing it from the outside in full daylight, and not creeping around the side to break in was a different thing entirely.
The opulence and glory of it all was like something…out of a storybook. A white pathway unfolded in front of us, lined with bushes of purple-and-blue flowers—impossible in this cold and yet there. And the palace itself was even more stunning. The bright white porcelain walls were broken up with glimmering, stained glass windows, and the three decorative, silvery spires that stretched into the clouds.
A kneeling servant worked a few feet away, polishing a single stone of the impractical white pathway, shivering in the cold, his hands chapped and red.
But that wasn’t our direction. The guard turned from the main path immediately, following a narrower cobblestone walkway to the east of the palace. He jabbed his finger toward a group of houses in the distance. “Huts for essential staff are over there.”
Was that what they considered a ‘hut’ on this side of The Cradle?
I shot Moll a glance, jaw gaping. They paled in comparison to the houses of nobles that ringed Little Alabaster, but they were luxurious by Hollow standards. Hell, they were luxurious by Smudge standards, as far as I could see. Each one easily had an acre of land between them.
“Which one are we in?” I asked as we neared the first of the homes.
“Third one from the—” He stopped abruptly, eyes flitting down to his uniform. He smoothed it and straightened his hat, then stood a little bit taller.
My heartbeat skipped a beat as I spun, glancing in the direction he’d been pointing. A figure stood with his back to us, as if he were inspecting our new home, his hand resting on a gold-hilted sword. Prince Duncan, looking gorgeous as ever, even from the back.
No, not gorgeous . Bad, Harmony, bad. Just average…yes, I would tell myself he was average at best.
I sucked in a breath, sparing a quick glance at Moll, our predicament slamming back into me. What the hell was he doing here? Had he remembered her, by chance? Had her tits in fact, outed us?
“Quite the honor to have him welcome you in person,” the guard murmured, striding quickly as he approached the house, forcing us to hurry to follow. Duncan turned, noticing us, and the guard fell into a salute rather than a bow, “Your Highness.”
A pointed glance from the guard sent Moll and me into curtseys of our own.
Prince Duncan rested his hand on his sword hilt and gestured us over. “Thank you, Crispin.”
The guard dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Do you have further need of me, or shall I return to my post, Your Highness?”
Duncan flashed a crooked smile that nearly knocked the breath out of me. “When are you going to stop with the formalities, my friend?” he chuckled.
“Appearances matter. Especially in times like these.”
They shared a furtive glance that I didn’t understand, and Duncan finally nodded, grin fading. “Fine. But I’ll see you at tonight’s event, and you better not be so polite. You can head back to the gate.”
Crispin whipped off a second salute, then strode away.
“Welcome to your new home.” The prince turned, his gaze fixing on me. “I thought I’d come show you around.”
Again, I found myself wondering at how unbothered he seemed by his brother's death. If he was to be crowned king any time now, what was he doing here?
I’d think he’d be busy doing all the…kingly things needed of him.
He hadn’t brought Heinrich’s death up, so I wasn’t about to, but it was definitely strange. Even if he and Heinrich hated one another, surely, he should be too busy preparing for his own coronation to see a servant to their quarters?
It didn’t make sense.
Despite the niggling curiosity, my initial nerves at seeing him calmed some. He wasn’t here with a warrant for my arrest or an ax-wielding executioner in tow, and that was good enough for now.
He pushed the door to the hut open, revealing a cozy living room that would’ve been the envy of everyone I’d ever known. A fireplace sat in one corner, flames already going well, with a cushioned sofa and table in the other. We strode through the room, going to the kitchen next.
The prince gestured at a small, wicker basket full of onions and potatoes on the table in the middle of the room. A loaf of bread sat next to it, with a jar of purplish jam. “I had my people stock you up with some basics, so you shouldn’t have to worry about that for a few days while you get your legs under you with Bertrand.”
“This is perfect, thank you,” I said, trying to keep the amazement from my voice. I reached for Moll’s hand, gripping it tightly in mine as I caught sight of the second basket—this one full of fresh fruit—on the other side of the counter. Most of the people we’d grown up with would’ve killed for a meal like this. How long had it been since we’d had truly fresh fruit? Years…not since Pawpaw was still alive.
I cleared my throat, knowing that I needed to have some understanding of what was, and wasn’t allowed—the last thing we needed was more trouble. “With regard to food going forward, is Fetch allowed to hunt nearby or should we go to market for meat?”
“By decree, the Northwest Forest and its game are reserved for royal outings and events,” he said with a frown before gesturing to the back wall. “But he can hunt within the wooded area directly behind the huts for any small game. You can also purchase meat in town if you prefer.”
We needed to save every coin we could get our hands on, so small game out back it would be.
Next, he led us into the bedroom, gesturing toward the two beds. Even at a distance, they were obviously well stuffed, with thick blankets and even thicker pillows. Moll shouldered her way past me to see, and I winced as her jaw dropped open, but thankfully no sound came out except a soft sigh.
“Feel free to get comfortable, if you like. I’m sure it’s been a long day.”
Moll took him up on it almost immediately, dropping her crutch and falling into the bed with a groan.
“These beds are so nice.” I ran my hand over the top blanket, trying to draw his eyes from her as I caught sight of the harness that held her fake leg in place.
“Rather small for my liking, but they’ll do the trick. Do you need assistance unpacking?” he asked, gesturing toward the bag I’d almost forgotten I was carrying.
“Er– no thanks. I’ll just leave it here for now.” I scurried quickly to the second bed, setting it down beside it, just out of sight. “I have a few more questions for you, if it’s no trouble?”
He smiled, flashing that very average dimple. “Certainly.”
Duncan led the way back into the living room, stopping to stand beside the sofa as he looked down at me expectantly. Why did he have to be so…big? I resisted the urge to take a step back and then regretted it as his musky scent curled around me. He even smelled good? This was terrible.
He motioned and I sat on one end of the sofa, then he dropped himself onto the far side, his weight sending a shiver through the furniture. “You wanted to ask me something?” he prompted, his dimple flickering into view before disappearing again.
I shifted restlessly and cleared my throat. “Um, yes. Just about the job. What my duties will be and all.”
“You won’t need to start for a couple of days as we have some…things going on at the palace.” A crease formed between his eyes.
Things I definitely didn’t want him to associate with me, so I was happy to talk about the job at hand. “What should I do in the meantime?”
“You’ll be training with our current falconer, Bertrand. You have some time to get acquainted with life on the palace grounds. You’re also free to go to…the other side of town to visit family and whatever else you might choose to do.”
Apparently, he couldn’t deign to speak of The Smudge. The realization was a stark reminder that as handsome and easygoing as he seemed, we were not the same and he was not my friend.
I straightened and fixed a cool smile to my lips. “And as for wages…?”
If he was bothered by my change in energy, he didn’t show it. “I don’t know the exact amount, but it will take care of the two of you well enough—Falconers are valuable to the crown. Paid in coin, once weekly, after your first week is complete.”
I made sure not to let the disappointment show on my face. We wouldn’t be here in a week’s time, gods willing, and asking for a loan against my wages day one would be bold to the point of rudeness. The last thing I needed was to stir up suspicion. I’d have to find another way to pay for us to get smuggled out of here, the sooner the better. Because as easy as it would be to fall into the fantasy that the soon-to-be-crowned King of Alabaster liked me, facts were facts; Birds of a feather stuck together. I was nothing but a curiosity to him that would fade as quickly as it had come, and we needed to be long gone before he realized something wasn’t quite right with old “Harmonica” here and her one-legged cousin.
A silence stretched between us, and a warmth grew deep within me as his gaze drifted to my lips.
Not your friend, I reminded myself sternly. And certainly nothing more. He can’t even say “The Smudge” out loud, how do you think he’d like visiting you in The Hollow?
His expression darkened some, and he turned away. “Also, there is an event tonight. They’ll be a ringing bells to announce it a few hours from now, and you can follow the other servants when you hear them. There will be a royal announcement at the amphitheater.”
I’d heard of the place but still hadn’t seen it despite all my sneaking around. “Is it close by?”
My heart skipped a beat as I realized how deeply “Hollow” the question probably sounded. If I truly was from this side of the Cradle, surely I’d already know the answer to that question…
If I outed myself though, his expression didn’t show it, and the strange apprehension in his face faded as he nodded.
“Just behind the palace. In a more typical circumstance, done up for a celebration or holiday, it’s quite a sight to behold.”
His eyes shifted toward the fireplace. The silence lingered for a long moment, but his expression was unreadable when he looked back at me.
“In any case, I’d expect that there will still be some exhibitions and sparring after the announcement, but it shouldn’t go much longer than an hour or two.”
I got the sense that he was trying to reassure me, but his words only put me more on edge.
Exhibitions and sparring? When the king had just been killed?
Duncan hooked his fingers into his belt that held his sword. He didn’t seem overly concerned with anything he’d spoken of—not like we were headed to a public execution. Right?
Right.
I nodded, unable to tamp down the niggling fear about the big “announcement.” Had they found someone to pin the crime on? Or was this an attempt to gloss over the king’s death and celebrate Duncan’s coronation as quickly as possible, before some distant cousin or ambitious noble got any ideas about making a power play?
I’d have to wait until later to find out, but the suspense might just kill me.
“Looking forward to it,” I said, forcing out the words.
The prince rose, glancing down at his pocket watch. “I should be going. I still have a lot to help prepare.”
I scrambled to my feet and walked him to the door. He stepped out into the afternoon sun, then paused and turned back toward me. A slight frown worked into his expression, and he dipped his head in a goodbye. “I’ll see you later. Ella.”
I dipped into a curtsey so low that it didn’t seem strange at all when I stumbled forward, bumping into him.
“Careful!” he murmured even as his hands clamped around my arms, steadying me as I stood back up, and away. I tamped down the rush that coursed through me at his touch even through the fabric of my coat.
“Apologies, Your Highness.” I stepped back with a flustered smile. “I’ve still not gotten used to being in the presence of royalty. I’m certain it will wear off soon. Thank you again for showing us around.”
His splayed fingers lingered a moment longer, but then he released me and stepped back. “You’re quite welcome…”
I closed the door behind him and leaned against it, my legs like jelly. “Fucking hell.”
Moll crept back into the room and met my gaze, cocking her head in a silent question.
“It’s fine, he’s gone.”
She let out a breath. “This vow of silence thing is going to be the death of me.”
“I know. I wish I could take it back…” sort of , “But this will make you feel better.”
I straightened and held out my open palm. Moll let out a gasp as she caught sight of what was nestled there.
“You stole his watch?” she hissed rushing to get a better look. “You sneaky little minx.”
“It’s surely made of solid gold, so I’m hoping it will pay for our safe passage back into The Hollow. I don’t want to keep this ruse up longer than I have to.”
A hot twinge of guilt poked at me as I pocketed the timepiece, but I shoved the feeling aside—this was survival after all, for me and Moll. Surely, the prince had plenty of other timepieces.
Instead of feeling bad, I made a beeline toward the crusty loaf of bread. I sliced it in half and slathered a healthy portion of the jam onto the top of it before carrying two plates over to where Moll stood. I chuckled, handing her a plate with half of the loaf of bread. Excessive? Sure, but who knew when we’d get another meal like this?
If things went as planned, we’d be back in The Hollow in no time, safe, but starving just like we had been before we left.
“I’ll admit, I was starting to worry you would explode trying to keep all the words inside.”
Her mouth dropped open as she stared at bread and jam. “If I’m going to explode, let it be from this.” She tore into the food with a low groan.
I took a bite of my own, moaning along with her. The tart blackberry jam on the soft sourdough was nothing short of heaven, and I dropped to my soft featherbed with a contented sigh. I swallowed my first bite and paused. “I know we’re fugitives and the entire city is looking for us, but this really does beat the hell out of being hungry, huh?”
Moll nodded eagerly, unable to speak around her mouthful of bread.
But a few minutes later, as I finished my last bit of jammy bread, I couldn’t shake the guilt that rose inside me once again. Even though it was necessary, I felt awful stealing from him. He’d been nothing but kind, and helpful, and I’d taken advantage.
More unsettling than that, though…why hadn’t he called me out yet for being at the ball? There were moments where he seemed to recognize me. Was he so taken with me that he’d decided not to turn me in?
Not likely.
My experience with men—especially wealthy ones—made it much more probable that he was keeping my secret because he wanted something in return. I just had to hope it was something I was willing to give freely. Or that I was long gone before he asked to cash in the favor.
Because saying no to royalty was a dangerous game, and me and Moll were running out of shoes…