CHAPTER 1
Keenan
THREE YEARS LATER…
The bell above the front door jangled, muted by the wall separating the smithy’s display room from the work area in back. Keenan ignored it, his lips curving as he applied the finishing touches to the dagger.
This was the best part of his job.
Carefully setting the dagger next to the matching bow, he picked up the rapier. It needed to be embellished and sharpened, but then he would be finished with Lord Percival’s order. And just in time; the nobleman expected to pick it up the next morning.
He shook his head. Master Elias had always encouraged Keenan’s impractical desire to add beauty to his sturdy, well-balanced swords, but his son Geoffrey had considered it a waste of time…
until he saw how much their wealthier clients were willing to pay for Keenan’s designs.
Now, Geoffrey grumbled when they had an order for anything else, despite his father’s reminders that Keenan could only work so fast.
Unfortunately, Master Elias could no longer ensure Keenan’s workload stayed reasonable.
Keenan’s hand tightened around the hilt of the rapier as the grief pounced on him again.
Master Elias’s illness had kept him from the smithy for the last two months, but he’d still had a smile for “his boys” when Keenan and Geoffrey returned home.
Until a week ago, when his wife, Miss Beatrice, had greeted them with tears instead.
The door to the front room opened, dragging him back to the present. Keenan looked over his shoulder in surprise. Usually, his foster brother settled for showing off the display pieces and assuring the customer that “he” could do anything they asked. He never consulted Keenan first.
“I need you out front,” Geoffrey announced. He wore a bland expression, but his shoulders were tense. “Someone’s here to see you.”
“Me?” Keenan frowned. No one came to see him; the customers who knew he was the artisan spoke to him on his days at the market.
Geoffrey jerked his head toward the front. “Best to not keep them waiting.”
Wiping his hands on his apron, Keenan stepped through the doorway and glanced over the three people standing in the small display room.
One was a young woman, an unusual sight in the smithy.
But even more unexpected than the fine fabric of her dress was the feline cradled in her arms. It was black except for its brown feet and a white sunburst on its left shoulder, and it stared intensely at him as if it was trying to tell him something.
“I know that cat,” Keenan blurted out as his eyes drifted to the man next to them. “It—Your Highness!”
He dropped into a bow. Geoffrey couldn’t have warned him that the crown prince of Daraigh was in their smithy?
Prince Michael gestured for him to rise. “You recognize this cat,” the prince prompted, waving a hand toward it. “Has it been in your shop before?”
Keenan’s brow furrowed at the unexpected question.
“Yes, Your Highness. A little over a week ago, a young man with long black hair, heavy-lidded brown eyes, and a lazy manner stopped by. That cat was on his shoulders.” He’d come up front because Geoffrey had stormed out after one of their arguments. It had been the day before—
Resting his hands on the counter, he swallowed back the emotion and added, “He acted like he was having a conversation with it. I was afraid he might be a little mad, but I didn’t have a reason not to sell him the bow and sword he requested.”
“He came here to buy weapons?” the young woman asked. Her bright green eyes were filled with a mixture of confusion and annoyed disbelief.
“That’s what most people want when they come here, Miss,” Keenan replied with a grin.
It felt a little off with Master Elias’s loss weighing at the back of his mind, but the tiny bit of humor helped.
He’d had little to smile about when the weapon-smith took him in thirteen years earlier.
Master Elias had taught him to laugh again.
The young woman rolled her eyes, but Prince Michael’s serious expression didn’t change. Keenan cleared his throat and pulled at the side of his apron. “I hope I didn’t err by making the sale. He didn’t stay long, just picked an old rose-hilt sword off the racks and asked me to sharpen it for him.”
The young woman scowled and clutched the cat a little tighter to her chest, making it squirm. “Really? A rose?”
“Yes, Miss,” he confirmed. “Not a common choice among the noblemen; I thought that design would sit there forever.” It had been one of his earlier attempts, when he was still crafting new tools and experimenting to see how precise he could make his art.
Casting a glance at the young woman, Prince Michael said, “Your description matches a Ralnoran nobleman who has been visiting Daraigh the last few months. When he asked me for a decent weapon-smith, I gave him your name. He expressed his intention to visit you.” The prince met his eyes. “And no one has seen him since.”
Keenan slowly straightened, his smile disappearing as his eyes flicked between the young woman, the prince, and the royal guard standing at attention behind them. “Am I being accused of something, Your Highness?”
“No, of course not!” the young woman hurriedly said. “No one thinks you had anything to do with his disappearance. But you were the last person to see Tobias, so I’m hoping you can tell me where he went.”
“It does not reflect well on Daraigh that a visiting nobleman vanished while staying at the castle,” Prince Michael added solemnly.
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “But to further complicate things, we received news two days ago that my sister and her guards were attacked on their visit to my maternal grandmother.”
“Is Princess Anne all right?” Keenan interrupted.
He’d never met the fourteen-year-old princess, but he’d seen her in the market, walking with her shoulders hunched as if she wanted to hide from the crowd despite her attention-grabbing red cloak.
If she hadn’t had a guard, he’d have shadowed her to make sure no one bothered her.
“She is missing.” The prince looked away for a moment, his face emotionless despite the distress betrayed by the movement. “As a result, we cannot spare men to search for Tobias. And because of this, Liesl—” he grimaced— “is determined to form her own search party.”
“You?” Keenan said, trying to sound less incredulous than he felt as he looked at the well-dressed young woman. “You plan to traipse across Ryuni in search of this man?”
She lifted her chin. “If that’s where Tobias went, then yes. Helena’s betrothal is no reason for him to avoid Ralnor. And if he won’t come back, then he’ll at least—”
She cut herself off, but the look of determination remained.
Keenan gave her a slight nod, watching her warily. “He told the cat that Castellia was a back-up option, but he wanted to try Ryuni first.”
“He told…the cat?” Prince Michael’s eyebrows rose.
“I told you he had a conversation with it,” Keenan replied with a shrug.
“Did it answer?”
“Not that I heard.”
The prince folded his hands behind his back. A tiny crease appeared in his forehead. “I see. Is there anything else you can tell us?”
“I asked him if he planned to join the sword dancing competitions,” Keenan said, squinting his eyes in thought. “He said he needed a princess, not honor.”
“A princess?” Liesl echoed. “How strange.” Her mouth turned up in a tight smile. “And yet not so strange. But we still need to bring him back for Puss, don’t we?”
Her voice transitioned to something sweeter as she stroked the cat. Keenan watched her with concern. “If guards can’t be spared for the search, will there be anyone traveling with you and…Puss?”
“No,” Prince Michael replied with a heavy exhale through his nose. “And I have strongly expressed my disapproval of her plan, especially given her own connection to royalty.”
“Katy is the one married to a prince, not me,” Liesl protested. “No brigands will care about a simple miller’s daughter.”
But they might care about a pretty, young woman with no one but a cat to look out for her.
“I apologize for taking your time.” The look of long-suffering on the prince’s face suggested this was not the first time she’d presented this argument. “If you recall nothing more about Tobias’s visit, we will leave you to your work.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help,” Keenan replied automatically. But his forehead wrinkled as the trio walked to the exit.
“It’s already been a week and a half since he disappeared,” Liesl insisted. “Your guards are welcome to do as they wish, but I’m leaving for Ryuni in the morning.”
The prince ran a hand through his hair as he stepped outside. “Katy won’t be pleased if I let you go, and I’d rather not experience her temper again. Your sister is rather fearsome to behold.”
“She’s mellowed since marrying Axel,” Liesl replied with a shrug. “You’ll survive.”
“Fine then, Axel won’t like it, and I’d prefer to not have my best friend mad at me.”
Liesl laughed. “Axel doesn’t get angry. Try again.”
The door closed behind them, cutting off the rest of the conversation. Keenan rubbed his hands on his apron, watching them pass the window before he slowly returned to the back room.
Instead of wishing he could have been more help, perhaps he should be sorry that he’d given her any help at all.