Chapter 19
Sebastian: Learning About the Hood
As soon as he was sure they were alone, Sebastian turned to the small red fox in his hands.
“What happened?” he demanded. His tone came out sharper than he meant it to, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
The moment the young prince had entered carrying Lucy, all rational thought had escaped from his hand.
After a second, Lucy transformed back into a young woman. “Don’t shout at me, Sebastian Doyle,” she said, pushing away from him. “You’ll alert the entire kingdom.”
Sebastian ignored her statement, running his fingers gently down her ribs, ignoring the slaps she was giving him. The slaps ceased suddenly as he came to a spot on her left side, as she let out a cry of pain.
Sebastian jerked his hands away. “What—”
“Emilio decided to search for me by kicking at a pile of fabric. He just so happened to come into contact with my ribs,” Lucy said through gritted teeth as she attempted to breathe through the pain.
“And how did he know you were there?” Sebastian demanded.
“Blasted Tomas was carving something out of cherry wood,” Lucy grumbled.
Sebastian nodded his understanding, then frowned. “He was carving something?”
“Yes. It was quite odd,” Lucy said. Still clutching her side, she moved to sit down at the table near the window. “They mentioned they were going to use a ‘special cloth’ for this round, but they didn’t pull out any fabric. Oh, and that bottle of poison was definitely theirs.”
Sebastian let her words flow around him, but he wasn’t paying any attention. In his mind’s eye, all he could see was her wince as she pulled away from him. “Let me see your ribs.”
Lucy glared at him. “I beg your pardon?”
He held up his hands placatingly. “Please. Just let me take a look. I might be able to heal them.”
Lucy hesitated, but she nodded. Sebastian thanked his lucky stars that she’d chosen to wear breeches and a tunic today, as she began gingerly pulling the tunic up just enough that he could see the area that was already turning a stomach-turning blend of blue, black, purple, green, and red.
“That’s just from where he kicked you?” Sebastian muttered, his fingers ghosting over the painful area. “Good grief, it looks worse than the time those dukes tried to give Oliver a beat-down and you jumped them to stop them.”
“I wish I could have jumped Emilio,” Lucy muttered. “Did you hear me when I said that the poison was definitely theirs?”
“I heard you,” Sebastian said. “I’m just not focusing on it right now.
May I?” Lucy nodded, then gasped in pain as he gingerly pressed his fingers into the inflamed area and continued prodding the area.
At last, he looked up at her, satisfied.
“I don’t think he broke them. They’re just badly bruised.
I can provide a little relief, but it’s beyond my skill to heal.
You’d need to talk to Lady Quinn’s physician friend. ”
“I don’t need a physician, honestly,” Lucy said. “I had bruises worse than this when—” Her jaw tightened, and she refused to meet his eyes. His mind filled in the words she’d left unspoken: when that werewolf attacked me.
Sebastian let the now familiar anger wash over him and he swallowed hard.
He said a quick spell, and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
Knowing there was nothing else he could do, he lowered her tunic and pressed her forehead against his own.
“Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I will be here to listen,” he whispered.
“Sebastian, you don’t have to,” she said, just as softly. “You already bear so much; you don’t need to carry my burdens too.”
“No, but I choose to carry them,” he murmured. “It is my honor and my privilege, Lucy-love.”
A tear slipped down her cheek and she turned away from him, hurriedly wiping it away as if hoping he wouldn’t see. “Yes, well…” She cleared her throat. “We need to get to work. I’m nearly positive Emilio and Tomas are part of the team we’re looking for.”
Sebastian frowned. “Lucy—”
“They kept mentioning a ‘boss,’ though. I think he’s the one who’s pulling the strings.
Tomas kept saying he’d be really mad if he knew that they’d lost the poison.
And they mentioned someone named Issak could be ready with an hour’s notice,” she rushed on, gathering her painting supplies. “I think what we need to do—”
“Lucy!” Sebastian’s call interrupted her flow of words, and she turned to look at him, the fear in her eyes clawing at his heart.
He moved closer until he was standing right next to her.
“I know we’re short on time and there’s a lot on the line.
But you need to stop and take a deep breath.
Can you do that for me?” Lucy bit her lip but nodded and did as he asked.
Sebastian gave her a smile. “Good. And again?” Another breath.
“Good job. Now, you’re one of the smartest people I know and, outside of possibly Oliver, who has the benefit of political power, I’m one of the most dangerous people you know.
Tomas and Emilio don’t stand a chance. So believe me when I say that we’ll stop them. Do you believe me?”
Lucy sighed. She went back to the table she’d cordoned off as hers, gathering her paints and brushes. She lowered her head, and, for a second, Sebastian was afraid she wasn’t going to answer him. But, after a tense moment, she murmured, “Yes. Starkind help me, but I do.”
Sebastian went back to his sketches. “Good, then. So tell me what you heard, and we’ll go from there. Start at the beginning.”
He sketched as Lucy painted and described what the two tailors had said.
As she spoke, his frown deepened all the while.
From the start, he’d suspected that there had been another hand in the plot.
Possibly two. The confirmation should have made Lucy’s mission worth the risk.
But he didn’t like the sound of the ‘special cloth’ the tailors had mentioned.
He suspected it was the same cloth they claimed to be weaving themselves. It made sense in context.
What made little sense was the fact that they’d been lounging about after making that decision.
Weaving cloth took ages, even if they had a fairy or another Magic on payroll.
Combine that with the time they’d need to design and sew all the garments, and he was certain that they should have been rushing around trying to get things done, rather than carving or reading.
Unless they’d already woven the fabric. Sebastian considered this option. “Do you know what types of fabrics were in the pile they were using?”
Lucy considered the question. “Mostly cheap silks,” she said at last. “There were a couple of satins and cottons, but none of them were of good quality. My pack has better textiles than they were using, and we’re not exactly flush with cash.”
“They’re also not the right cloth for this time of year or this location.
It’s nearly November, and the temperatures are dropping.
I didn’t get a good look at their submission for the last challenge, but it looked pretty flimsy to me.
” Sebastian groaned. “I wish I could get a good look at that fabric.”
“I could try to get them out of their room so you could take a look,” Lucy said, though her tone was doubtful. “Or—”
“I’ll look while everyone is at the street fair,” Sebastian s. “If there’s a chance that they’re poisoning the fabric itself, I know a couple of cleansing spells. Or I’ll tip off our friend, the prince.”
“And here I was, hoping to spend a little time with you at the street fair, basking in the praises of our creation,” Lucy teased, before her grin turned into a frown. “Did you know Lady Quinn was a kitsuné?”
“No,” Sebastian said, before sighing. “It doesn’t surprise me, though. Father always has hated that she continually seemed to be one step ahead of him at every turn. I suppose it’s easy enough if you’re listening in on planning meetings while everyone around you thinks you’re a fox.”
“It’s a bit odd that Robi—the prince knew that. Hopka doesn't exactly have the best relationship with Moyar,” Lucy mused.
Sebastian nodded, just before his brain caught on something she’d started to say. He whirled on her. “What did you call him?”
Lucy’s face went bright red, and she muttered something under her breath. “I’m a dead woman,” she groaned.
Sebastian stared at her. “No, you’re not. Not if I have anything to say about it. But don’t avoid the question: what did you call the prince?”
Lucy sighed and put her head in her hands. “Robin Hood. That’s the name he was going by when I met him.”
“Robin Hood,” Sebastian mulled over the name. “I know that name. It’s said that’s the name the leader of the Sherwood Company uses.”
“So I hear,” Lucy said bitterly.
“So that’s who you were working for that day.” From the look on her face, Sebastian knew that his speculation was correct. “Well, at least that’s one mystery solved.”
Lucy left her painting and grabbed his hand, forcing him to look at her. “Sebastian, you can’t tell anyone about this. Not even Oliver,” she pleaded. “If you do, my family—”
“Lucy.” The softness of the word caused her eyes to widen in surprise.
“I was not planning to tell anyone. Well, except perhaps Oliver, and you know better than almost anyone how well he can keep a secret from everyone except Joanna. And if I told anyone, I’d make sure you and your family were safe before breathing a word.
” He shook his head. “But, even if I were to go shouting it from the rooftops, do you think anyone would believe me? A prince going to a distant land to start a gang of thieves and miscreants? Anyone I told would laugh me out of the room.”
“I thought you were on a roof in this scenario?” Lucy said, blinking back tears.
“Well, then, they’d laugh me off the roof,” Sebastian said, wiping away her tears. “The point is, no one would take me seriously.”
“So, why do you take me seriously?” Lucy wondered.
Sebastian shook his head. “Because you are many things, love. Incredibly artistic. Unbelievably brave. Terrifyingly fierce. Loyal to a fault. Protective as a mother bear. But one thing you are not is a liar.” He tucked a scarlet curl behind her ear.
“At least you have never lied to me. You have hidden things, true, but you’ve never truly lied to me.
It’s one of the many things I adore about you. ”
At his words, Lucy smiled, then a shadow seemed to pass over her face. She took a slow, measured step back. “Well…you are very kind. But we should…we should really get back to work. Our planning hour is almost up.”
Sebastian frowned at the sudden change. “Lucy, what’s—”
“I don’t think I have enough paint here. I’m going to go ask Lady Soto for another container of red,” she said, hurrying from the room before Sebastian could point out the nearly full tube of red paint in her supplies.
Sebastian watched her go with no small amount of confusion warring in his heart. Every time he thought he was cracking through the walls she’d built up around herself over the past couple of years, she’d rebuild them, quick as a wink. He wasn’t even sure what he’d said to scare her off this time.
Focus, Doyle, the annoying, business-like side of his mind told him. Figure out how to prevent the emperor’s murder, and then you can figure out how to get her back.
Get her back. He froze at the thought. She wasn’t meant to be for him.
Her pack had made that unbelievably clear.
From what Wilde had said, she was promised to another.
And, besides, her father would never allow her to marry an outsider, even if she wasn’t a blood relation of the pack. So why wouldn’t his heart listen?