CHAPTER 43 #2
Princess Sakura took a hurried step forward, throwing her arms out to the side.
“Escort us to my father if that is his command.” Her voice could have frozen the pool they’d fallen into at the waterfall.
“But you will not be arresting these men. They would have preferred I stay above ground, and they have done nothing but protect me, both before and after our unexpected sojourn beneath the surface.”
The approaching soldiers paused, but their captain shook his head. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. King’s orders.”
Following Oliver’s example, Keenan slowly returned his weapons to their sheaths. Cooperation might earn him the right to keep his pack until he figured out how to store the bulky tinderbox on his person.
“May I roast them now, Keenan?”
The guards looked up at the creaky voice. Keenan’s head dropped as he tried to fight off a laugh and a groan at the same time, but the princess broke into a small smile. “Please do not, Cherry. They are only doing their job.”
“But they are threatening my friends.” Her long, green neck hung down from the cherry blossoms. “Keenan rescued me from those nasty men in Hartford; why can’t I return the favor?”
“It will be all right, Cherry.” He beckoned to her. “Will you feel better if you perch on my shoulder?”
“Marginally.” Her head disappeared, and then she dropped out of the branches, making a wide pass over the heads of the Ryunic guards.
They all watched with eyes as wide as saucers, ducking when she swooped down to land on his shoulder.
That put her backward, so she dug her claws into his jerkin and rearranged herself.
Keenan leaned sideways, trying to keep from getting whacked in the head by her chest.
The guard approaching Keenan gulped, but he motioned to Keenan’s waist. “I need your sword belt.”
While Keenan slowly unbuckled it, Cherry leaned forward, putting her scaly snout right in the guard’s face. She took a long, slow sniff while he rapidly blinked his crossed eyes. “She’s only a baby,” Keenan stated mildly. He held out his belt. “You should see her mother.”
“I am not a baby!” the dragon protested indignantly, glaring at Keenan. “I am—not full-grown.”
“When you are, you won’t be riding around on my shoulder.” He smirked. “Or following me inside my house.”
“You could install larger doors.”
“I’d need to install a larger house.”
Holding out a piece of rope, the guard reached for Keenan’s arms. “Are pet dragons common where you come from?” he asked, watching Cherry out of the corner of his eye.
She bristled. “I am not a pet. I breathe fire!”
“When you’re older,” Keenan clarified, noting the guard’s pale face.
“Or if you command it,” she stubbornly insisted.
The guard captain cleared his throat and directed his horse toward Princess Sakura.
“Your Highness, your horse is this way. She is fitted with a standard saddle since yours was missing its stirrup.” He eyed the collection tied to Keenan’s pack.
“If you do not wish to ride astride, you may sit in front of one of my men until we reach the farmhouse. I fear it will be uncomfortable, though.”
She scanned the group disdainfully. “And my companions? Did you bring horses for them as well?”
“The farmer has a wagon we can borrow for the trip to the capital. They’ll have to walk to the farmhouse.”
“If they walk, so do I.” She gave a sharp nod.
Keenan frowned. “We’ve always walked while you ride. It’s fine.”
“Do you imply there is something wrong with my feet, weapon-smith?” she asked icily. He shook his head. “Or that my legs are incapable of carrying me?”
“Of course not.”
“Then do not presume to tell me that I should ride when I wish to walk.”
The fire in her black eyes made his mouth twitch up. “Anything you say, ma’am.”
“I am not a—” She paused, throwing a glance at the guards watching with interest, and folded her hands at her waist. Looking acutely uncomfortable, she finished, “That is not the proper form of address for my position.”
“I know,” he murmured.
It pained him to see her revert to attempting perfection, even if she wasn’t doing it quite as well as before. Princess Sakura’s true self was so much more beautiful than the image she portrayed to satisfy her mother’s expectations. He’d thought he’d made progress convincing her of that.
But away from the safety of their small group, all his efforts vanished in a few cold words and her stiff posture. Keenan wanted her to be free, but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. If she didn’t want to show these men who she really was, he wasn’t going to push her.
Much.
The guard finished tying Keenan’s wrists and picked up the long end of the rope. The princess’s eyes widened. “What do you intend to do with that?”
“Tie it to my saddle, Your Highness,” he answered simply. “It’s standard practice.”
She took two quick steps forward and snatched it up. Startled, he let it fall. “You will not be dragging them along like common criminals.” Turning her attention to the guard leading Oliver away, she snapped, “Give that to me. As I will be walking with them, I will keep them.”
“But Your Highness—”
“They will not hurt me,” she stated firmly. “Not even by trying to flee. So if they must be tied, I will hold the ropes.”
The guard captain’s eyes were wide, but he nodded and gestured for his men to form up around her. The guards on the ground remounted, and soon they were on their way.
The rope chafed his wrists where his bracers didn’t cover, but Keenan’s heart felt a little lighter as he strolled beneath the pink blossoms with a dragon perched on his shoulder and a haughty princess at his side.
She was acting the part. But under the surface, the true princess was watching for an opportunity to break free.