Chapter 4

After Lessa picked out a simple skirt, a sleeveless wrap vest over a fitted blouse and a wide belt for Kambry to wear, she left her to dress and write.

Kambry hung her dress in the wardrobe, her fingers lingering on the soft fabric. When she had put it on that morning, she had not anticipated finding herself captive in a castle in Kavin Wood. What had she expected? Someone to greet her with a smile and not say, “Aren’t you Stahn’s sister? What’s your name again?”

She touched the fabric of the tan skirt she wore. The material was nearly as soft as her white dress, though of a heavier cloth. The wrapped vest held the loose white blouse snug to her waist with the aid of the leather belt. There was no mirror in the room, so she assumed she was presentable as Lessa had taken pains to assemble the pieces, laying them out on the bed and replacing her original choice of vest and belt twice before being content with the selections.

Kambry slapped the wardrobe door shut and shook her head at the room. It was a pleasant chamber they had assigned her. There were two windows, glassed and providing a pleasant view over a large formal garden that stretched into the distance. Her bedroom furniture, including the wardrobe, filled a nook to the right. The rest of the room was larger by a third and contained two comfortable chairs, a writing desk and a small table and chair beneath the window if she wished to take a meal in her own room. A shelf of puzzles along with two books sat between the chairs behind a small round end table. A fireplace, clean for summer, was on the wall opposite the two chairs. She had a private washroom as well on the other side of the fireplace wall just off the bedroom nook.

Her chamber was the size of the kitchen, dining and living room at home. All this for one person. At least they weren’t punishing her for being a potential traitor. She slumped into

the desk chair and tapped the blank sheets in a tray. She guessed she had several hours before she would dine with the prince. Writing about how she ended up in Kavin Wood didn’t appeal to her at all, but she supposed it was something she should do. It would pass the time.

The quill had a fine point already cut, and the ink was of a superior quality. Kambry stared at the parchment. Where should she begin? The vision of the path among the purple proilis hung in her view, but no words dripped from the pen. She sketched, filling the paper with precise lines and shapes. The main outlines for the path along with the trees and vines left plenty of white space, and she paused and closed her eyes, smelling the distinct fragrance of the blossoms and heavy vanilla of the oak trees.

She opened her eyes and continued to draw with at first a lazy application. After a few minutes, her efforts to capture the image in her memory drew all her attention. It was some time before she sat up and perused her drawing. She couldn’t help but smile at the results. If she wasn’t so frustrated about the punishment of following the path, she would have thought it the prettiest picture she’d drawn. She searched the room for a choice of ink to add color to it, but found none.

Returning to the desk, she propped up the drawing and set about writing the events that brought her to the castle. Occasionally, she stopped to stare at the drawing before returning to the draft.

A knock at the door broke her concentration. Much of the light previously filling the room had fled. Had she been writing long enough for the evening to set in? The firm knock sounded again, and she left the desk and opened the door. A maid curtsied and handed a pair of pale suede, ankle-high boots to her.

“Thank you.”

“Do you need help to put them on?” she asked quietly.

Kambry snorted. Perhaps the entire castle was aware of her audacious barefooted audience with the prince. Either that

or they thought she didn’t know how to wear shoes and needed assistance.

“How thoughtful of you to offer, but I think I can manage.”

“You’ll find stockings in the right-hand wardrobe drawer.”

“Thank you.” Kambry stepped back to close the door but paused. “Could you tell me what time it is and what time the prince dines?”

“It is six, Miss. He dines at seven.”

“Thank you. Have a good evening.” She shut the door and carried the boots to her bedroom nook. The stockings were just where the maid had said, and she sat down to put the boots on. The last thing she wanted was for Lessa to show up and feel she needed to remind her to wear them.

She still had a few sentences to add to her writing, and she sat down to finish.

Done. Setting the pen aside, she stared again at the drawing of the path and its profusion of proilis flowers. She propped her chin on her hand and sighed. How could such a beautiful path end in a beautiful prison?

Sybil had said if she could convince the prince she was trustworthy and would not betray him, she might go home. Actually, it was more than just her own constancy that she had to prove. She had to convince him he could trust others. That could take months, even years, if he were stubborn.

She walked to the window and looked out at the garden. He seemed the stubborn type. The low windowsill made a nice seat, and she watched the gardener trim back a hedge. It appeared immaculately shaped, but perhaps there was a twig or two that fell to his feet. The prince was probably particular about the garden. A misshaped shrub or tree failing to blossom could lead to banishment. She shook a finger at herself. Not a laughing matter.

A knock at the door made her leap off the sill.

Before she could open it, the door swung open and Lessa stood on the threshold and gave Kambry a thorough looking over. “Well, you look ready.”

“I thought the prince dined at seven.”

“His Highness wants to talk with you beforehand so you can both enjoy the meal.” She stepped aside, giving her room to enter the hallway.

“About what?”

“The prince does not tell me his plans.”

“He must have told you he wished to speak with me before we dine so we can enjoy our meal later.”

She huffed. “That is all he told me. Now, come along.” She strode down the corridor, not waiting for Kambry.

There was something very frustrating about this situation, and Kambry was certain the troubles lay at the feet of the prince’s inability to trust. What would it take to win him over? Perhaps he’d require she taste a bit of each course to ensure she had not poisoned it.

Lessa was nearly at the turn in the hall when Kambry closed the door behind her and hurried to catch up.

“Lessa, couldn’t we be friends?” She double-stepped to keep up when Lessa lengthened her stride as she pulled alongside. “I know you the best and though that isn’t much, we seem to understand each other.”

Lessa continued with her quick pace.

“Are you punishing me for something? Did I forget to polish my boots or curl my hair just so? There isn’t a mirror in the room for me to check my appearance.”

“I don’t wish to be late,” Lessa said, her stern voice faintly apologetic. “You look fine.”

“Is there a reason there isn’t a mirror in the room?”

“You have a wardrobe; it should be on the inside of the door.”

“There isn’t. I looked.” “Huh.”

“That’s it? Huh?”

“Are you so vain you need a mirror?”

“How am I to make sure I look as I should for the prince if I can’t see myself?”

“I’ll talk to Mrs. Kauper about it. Perhaps a previous tenant broke it, and the staff never replaced the mirror.” She led Kambry to the left around a corner.

Kambry noted a suit of chain mail and a silk tunic over it displayed on an armed figure in an alcove on the wall to their right. The tunic bore the colors sage green and deep purple, the proilis flower embroidered on the breast. Its gauntleted fist gripped a well-polished and seemingly never used pike. She would have peeked inside to see what they used to make it look like an actual hand and arm, but she didn’t want to lose sight of Lessa.

Just as Lessa stepped beside it, the guard tripped on a torn bit of carpet, stumbling forward.

Kambry gasped as the figure slumped and dropped its pike forward. It smashed into the floor, cutting the carpet inches from her toes.

Lessa pivoted and leaped into a defensive position.

Startled, Kambry froze, but Lessa paused only an instant before searching the hall and examining the display.

“What do you think caused that?” Kambry asked, her voice calmer than she expected, considering her heart was pounding in her chest. “It could have killed you.”

Lessa was shaking her head, and she straightened and lowered the arm. “Very odd. The designers made these mannequins to hold a specific position and not move.”

Curious, Kambry stepped forward, avoiding impeding Lessa’s manipulation of the arm. She watched the movement. “But this one did.”

Lessa leaned the pike against the wall and arranged the arm to hang by the side of the displayed armor. She twisted her lips and eyed the figure. “We’ve no more time. Come along. I’ll check into this later.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I tripped on that.” She pointed at the lifted carpet edge.

“Well, now there are two repairs needed.”

Lessa’s eyebrow quirked up. “I prefer they get the repairs rather than me had I not tripped.” She gripped Kambry’s elbow and guided her along.

Kambry looked over her shoulder at the leaning pike. She would give the armor displays a wide berth in any further traipsing in the halls with or without Lessa.

Two more turns and they came to a door.

“This is the prince’s cabinet. Remember to curtsey and hold still until acknowledged.”

“You won’t be there to pantomime in the corner?”

She cleared her throat in an obvious effort to keep in a snort.

“See, we could be friends.”

“Not if you keep arranging armor to behead me.” “I did no such thing!”

The door opened, and they both stared at Prince Russal. Kambry immediately curtsied. Lessa dropped to one knee, her head bowed.

“What’s this about a beheading?”

Kambry closed her eyes, then opened one eye to see if Lessa would answer.

Lessa was peering at her. Kambry shook her head, and Lessa stood.

“Your Highness, a display shifted on its mountings, and the pike fell between us. I was just joking about the beheading. I’ll see to it being checked.”

“Yes. We don’t want any unintended beheadings,” he said, his flat tone sending a chill down Kambry’s back.

She hoped that was not an alternative to being banished from the kingdom.

He stepped aside. “Be about your business, Guard Veed. I’ll escort her to dinner myself after our meeting.” He nodded and turned to Kambry. “Miss do Brode, if you will join me.”

He pointed to a chair in front of a U-shaped desk of dark- stained and heavily polished wood. Bookcases filled to the point of bursting contained books, ledgers and bound pages. The shelves looked capable of sneezing tomes right and left in the narrow room, which contained a single floor-to-ceiling window draped with deep-green fabric. Several gas lamps mounted on the opposing wall and on shelves lit the room. A silver ink set reflected the light of a similar lamp in shiny bright spots. Prince Russal sat down behind the desk, his elbows on the desktop.

Dressed formally in brown velvet and brocade, his tunic well-fitted, he looked comfortable. Again, he wore no crown, the braids on either side of his head almost a replacement for it the way they twined back from his temples.

“What are you staring at?” He raised his eyebrows, using them to show the direction of her attention.

“Why don’t you wear a crown? I thought all royal rulers wore them.”

“They’re rather uncomfortable things to wear at all hours.

I prefer to leave them to official events.” “That’s very reasonable.”

“I’m pleased you approve.”

His voice seemed to carry a dry humor, but Kambry thought perhaps it was more mocking than comradely.

“You wished to talk to me about something,” she said.

The light glinted on the gold thread along his tunic collar. It echoed the glimmer in his hair, which framed his face, accenting the blue eyes that held her attention. They were like

ice, no warmth, though his voice held a warm vibrancy. He leaned back in his seat. “You’re staring again.”

Kambry shifted her gaze down to her folded hands in her

lap.

“What is it you saw in my face?”

“You are both cold and warm. Brown and blue, earth and

ice.”

“Don’t let my appearance fool you. I am mostly cold.” She shivered. “I believe you.”

“You do?” He sounded almost disappointed, even shocked.

She looked up to find him leaning forward. This time he was doing the staring.

“What do you see?” What made her ask that? She didn’t want to know what he thought he saw when he looked at her. She was certain she was someone he expected to stab him if he turned his back.

“A woman, nervous, uncertain, trying to figure out how she can avoid acting the traitor before she proves herself.”

That wasn’t so bad, fairly accurate, actually.

“Then you plan to give me a chance to prove myself.” “Don’t let it be said I don’t give my enemies a chance.”

“Enemy? So, I am condemned before I’ve done anything.”

“Two came before you. They have set the journey. You will follow the path.”

Sybil’s words rang in her head. People often get what they expect. He expects you to prove his lack of faith in people is accurate. Fall into that trap, and we all lose.

“Is this what you wanted to tell me? I am doomed to fulfill a role I do not fit.”

“The rule of our interaction is this: you will dine with me one day a week. We will enjoy our meal, talk, get to know

each other. And when you betray me, you will leave Kavin.”

His words left her speechless. They were to have a lovely time while they waited for her traitorous ways to express themselves? What betrayal? “Is this a game?”

“Hardly,” his voice rumbled with suppressed anger.

Anger rose in her own throat. “You expect the ridiculous.” “It is the rule.”

“Whose rule?” “Mine.”

From a drawer, he withdrew a silver band and set it on the desktop between them. “When you dine with me, you will wear this ring.” He slid it across to her. “Put it on.”

She shook his head.

He leaned forward over the desk, his blue eyes glinting with malice. “Put it on yourself, or I will put it on you. It’s likely to hurt if I must place it on your finger.”

There’s the coldness. That is what I fear. When he is cold, it is as if a veil pulled aside. “What will it do?” What if he designed it to make her betray him? What if his constant anger and disapproval made her want to commit treason?

His eyes squinted, and he looked at the ring. “It will not injure you.”

“Then what will it do?”

“It will reveal when you have betrayed me.”

Kambry looked at the ring, a simple silver band. “Does it matter which finger?”

“Your thumb, right hand.”

She nodded and took the ring, sliding it on before she lost her courage. She had no intention of betraying this prince. It glowed faintly purple, and she looked at him in alarm.

“That’s an acceptable start,” he said. “When it’s green, we’ll both know the truth.” He rose from his seat. “Come, dinner awaits us.”

“I’m not feeling hungry.” The ring remained purple.

“You can watch me eat.” He pressed her hand to his elbow and tugged her out the door.

They walked down the hall, his hand pressed over hers on his arm as if this were a pleasant habit they both enjoyed. It felt awkward and manipulative.

“I won’t run away.” She pulled at her hand.

He wouldn’t release her and patted her knuckles companionably. “Have you seen the gardens? I believe you have an excellent view of them from your room.”

Kambry looked at him. “You’re very odd,” she said, then snapped her head to face forward. What was the punishment for insulting a prince? Again.

Prince Russal chuckled and tugged her arm for her attention. His smile altered his face, taking all the distrust and tension from it.

Which man was the actual prince, the cold or the warm one? She glanced back at the door to his cabinet and wondered if the same man within had exited with her. She blinked and said. “I have seen them. Your gardener is talented.”

“Excellent,” he said. “You don’t have any allergies, do you?”

“To plants?” “To food.”

“Neither.”

“No dislike for soft vegetables or venison or plum pudding?”

“No, none. Is that what we’re having?”

“I don’t know. We’ll see what Cook has pulled together, but if there is something that you particularly dislike, I will have it replaced if you tell me what it is. However, you mentioned you aren’t hungry.”

At that moment, her stomach growled a long, low rumble.

He raised a brow. “Perhaps you two should discuss your difference of opinion. I will politely feign my attention is elsewhere.” He looked away.

“That’s kind of you, Your Highness.” She felt a smile pulling at her lips and quickly tamped it down. “However, I’m already convinced I was mistaken.”

He grinned at her. “Excellent.”

He really is odd.

They entered a spacious room with a long dining table, seating at least twenty chairs along each side. He turned her away from it and directed them to a small table set by the glass doors into the garden. There was only seating for two at the lace-covered table. Silverware and glasses were already in place. As she sat, the prince pulled out her chair for her and pressed it forward until she approved the placement. A servant and her assistants arrived as if signaled and placed the first course before her. He sat across from her.

Soup, a heavy broth that smelled divine. Her stomach gave approval with another grumble that made the prince wink at her.

“More convincing needed?” he asked.

“I think that was applause.” She raised her spoon and waited an instant after he slurped his own before tasting. Delicious.

The ring returned to the simple silver without any additional color as she calmed and ate. At least, it wouldn’t glow brilliantly purple and shift to green with every thought that entered her mind. Thoughts of how she might sneak back to the woods were definitely flitting around her head.

They were quiet for a few minutes. Kambry stole looks at him each time she raised her eyes as if to glance at the interior garden. He ate slowly, seeming to savor each spoonful.

Finished, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. A servant removed his bowl, and a small plate of steaming vegetables replaced it. A moment later, she had her own plate.

The prince set down his fork and leaned back. “Tell me, when you are not at your work as a scribe, what do you do for entertainment?”

Kambry swallowed and set her own fork down. “I read. I have a pet bird, a canary.” She paused. “I hope someone feeds him while I’m away.”

“You think they wouldn’t?”

She imagined they would search for her for some time and not think to check on Pickwick. “Not intentionally, but if they are trying to find me, they might not think of him right away.”

“You said you were with your brother when you entered the wood. He knows where you are, so why would they be looking for you?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” she demanded. “I could be lost. They wouldn’t know that I couldn’t return down the path or that your guards would find me and bring me here. They will assume I need help.”

“I see.” He returned to eating.

Kambry picked her fork back up but sat holding it, thinking of her family worrying about her. Stahn would hold himself responsible.

“In time, they will adjust and get over you being gone.

Please eat.”

“Maybe in your kingdom people get over losing family members, but in my village we don’t give up easily.” She bit her lip and stared out at the garden, visions of her mother crying and her father searching the woods far into the night filling her head. And here she sat eating steamed vegetables as if she were visiting a friend.

“We don’t get over losing those we love here in Kavin.” His tone jolted her.

“I meant no insult.”

The prince snapped his fingers, and unobtrusive hands removed their both plates. A beefsteak with a dark juice poured over it took its place. “Please, Miss do Brode, eat.”

She lifted her fork, and a knife placed by a servant and cut a piece of meat mechanically. She took several bites before she was aware of what she was eating.

The prince sat watching her, and she looked up at him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Did you say something?”

“No. I could see you were unhappy and have been trying to come up with something that would distract you from your worries about your family.”

“Sending me home would be a proper distraction.”

His eyes gazed at her with sympathy, but no sign of relenting. “I’m sorry, but that is not possible.”

“Will it ever be possible?”

“No.” His voice was firm, without the slightest hint that he would change his mind. All his sympathy had drained away, leaving a harsh edge to his voice.

She set her napkin on the table. “I’d like to return to my room now.”

“The requirement is that you have dinner with me once a week. Dinner is not over.”

Kambry sat back in her chair and turned to stare out the glass doors. Her hands in her lap worried her skirt, clutching at the material. She really didn’t have any appetite at all.

More courses arrived, but she remained still and quiet while the prince ate. Her gaze dodged back and forth from his polished mannerisms to the garden beyond. When he finished eating, he slid back his chair and came around the table to her side.

“Allow me.” He pulled out her seat.

When she stood, he placed her hand under his arm and walked her to her room. The entire process was awkward and left her wishing she was home. At the door, she looked up at him, and he waited for her to speak, an expression of patient disinterest giving her little encouragement. “What do I do until we dine again? Do I stay in my room?”

“You may go anywhere in the castle or its grounds,” he said, his tone almost bored. “Find work where you may. You have no assigned job other than to create no dissention among the staff or trouble anyone.”

And treason. I’m to avoid treason.

She nodded and opened her door, shutting it quietly behind her. She stood, uncertain what she should do next. In the silence, she heard no sound from beyond the door. After a moment, she discerned his footsteps receding down the hall. She couldn’t possibly gain his trust. No one in her own village besides Stahn had depended on her for anything beyond the job she held. Meek, uninteresting Kambry would not turn his distrust into openhearted acceptance of her or anyone else.