Royal Outlaw: (Royal Outlaw, Book 1) (38 page)

Mariel was tempted to hit Isabel, as they sat around the rickety table.

“You wanna try some?” Tristan held out a loaded fork to the black-haired beauty.

“Disgusting. Why can’t we stay in decent inns instead of these lousy taverns?”

“Lady Isabel,” Captain Clemens told her calmly. “Please understand that we are trying to keep the princess safe. Captain Alecsson and I agreed that by taking the road southwest before turning northeast and staying in—shall we say—less-refined accommodations, the Assassin would be less likely to find us.”

Isabel pushed out her lower lip in a pout that only succeeded in heightening her beauty. “But the Assassin is after Mariel who is used to living like a rat anyway. Why must you torture the rest of us?”

“Your presence is torturing me,” Mariel told Isabel. “You can always play bait. I don’t mind if you die.”

Isabel sat up straight in her broken-down chair. “How dare you speak to me so? I am the daughter of Fredrick de Veneir, Marquess of Coutre, and from one of the oldest families in this kingdom.”

“And I’m the princess and sole heir to this kingdom.” 

Her lady’s maids and guardsmen stared at Mariel in astonishment, although Captain Clemens looked unsurprised.

“My, my, the infamous outlaw has finally been broken,” James said, smiling. “She’s claimed her right to the throne.”

“Gods know why I’m the only one they can find for the job and I’m not giving up the fight, just going about it differently. If I ever find a way out of being princess, I’m taking it.”

The others around the table were either used to similar comments or did not understand the importance of what Mariel had said, but this was the first time Captain Clemens heard it and he detected the bitterness in her voice.

“Didn’t you agree to be princess?” he asked.

Mariel realized the mistake she had made. James had guessed without help that Dreyfuss had threatened her papa’s life to force her to accept the crown. Cara and Hallie knew that she was not a willing princess, although were unaware of the exact circumstances, but Mariel knew that telling too many people might bring the axe down on Darren’s head without her meaning to.

“I’m here aren’t I?” Mariel asked in an effort to indirectly answer the question. “You knew me when I was a spoiled child, didn’t I always want to be princess?”

Captain Clemens was no fool. “That wasn’t what you meant.”

Mariel entered into a staring contest with the man, but was the first to look away.

“I learned most of what I know from my papa, and he learned it from you, so there’s no point trying to avoid the question is there?”

“No, Highness, there isn’t.”

“Then I’m sorry to disappoint you, but it’s classified information.”

“Back to being mysterious, are you, lass?” Tristan asked.

“She wouldn’t be Mariel if she wasn’t,” James pointed out. “Besides, in this point, she’s right. The fewer people who know, the better.”

“But she told you?” Captain Clemens asked nonchalantly, trying to define James’s and Mariel’s complicated relationship.

“I didn’t tell him. He
guessed
.”

“I’m terribly clever. I’m the only one who’s figured it out.”

Mariel spoke her next words in Zreshlan. “
And you always believe yourself so intelligent when you force me to kiss you before you reveal the information you know. But now I can order you to tell me.
”

“
So you believe, Green Eyes.
”

“It is rude when you speak in a language your companions do not understand,” Isabel complained.

“Now you’re one of my companions?” Mariel asked with a raised eyebrow.  

“What language is that?” Captain Clemens asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything like it.”

“Another mystery. Between Mariel and me you’ll be kept up all night trying to figure us out.” James stood. “And speaking of night, we should all be going to bed . . . or floor for some of us.”

“Bed!” Isabel shrieked. “Ever since we left the City of the Gods I’ve slept on nothing but lumpy beds with bugs and Hallie for sleeping companions.”

“You rate me with bugs?” Hallie asked.

“You can always sleep outside on the frozen ground,” Mariel told Isabel. “You’d be the first one attacked. Wouldn’t you love to die saving me?”

“At least I would remember the attack in the morning,” Isabel fired back.

Mariel stiffened. Isabel smirked, realizing she had found a weakness. Those around the table braced for Mariel’s reaction. James’s muscles coiled, prepared to stop her if Mariel attacked. However, the princess did not lunge at her lady’s maid, or even move. Instead, she stayed seated, but her expression turned murderous. With dark green eyes flashing dangerously directly at her, the smirk faded from Isabel’s face and she paled.

“Captain Alecsson is right,” Hallie said as she stood. “We should go to bed. Are we going to start going north yet?”

“No, one more day of southwest and then we’ll circle back around.”  

Mariel expected Isabel to voice her common complaint about the length of the journey, but she silently stood and followed Hallie through the mostly empty tavern. Mariel watched Isabel with narrowed eyes, until the last swish of her skirt disappeared up the dilapidated stairs where the small run-down rooms were located.

“What would happen if you hit Isabel?” Cara pondered.

Cara’s unexpected question regarding violence startled Mariel out of her anger and she laughed.

“She would get a nice black eye and lose some teeth and it would cause a political mess for me.”

“You’ll make a great queen,” Cara said with meaning.

“Stop saying that.”

“You could always suffocate her with a pillow,” James said. “That would keep her quiet.”

“But it wouldn’t shut you up. And you’re more annoying by far.”

“Is this your way of flirting?” Tristan asked curiously.

“No!” Mariel exclaimed.

James smirked and his eyes roved her body.

“As fascinating as this is,” Captain Clemens interrupted the young people. “I think we should get some sleep.”

Sleeping arrangements were far from what the “superior class” would consider appropriate. Hallie and Isabel shared a bed, which was proper, but the two male guards sleeping on their floor would be considered improper. Mariel and Cara slept together in a separate room, with James, Tristan, and Captain Clemens on their floor.

Mariel and Isabel had both protested against these sleeping arrangements. Isabel did not like it because it was scandalous. Mariel hated it because it made her feel like everyone saw her as a cowardly weakling who could not take care of herself.

“I’m scared,” Cara whispered toward the stained and peeling wood of the small bedroom as Mariel helped her undress.

“Isabel is a spoiled noblewoman, she is nothing to fear.”

“I-I don’t mean Isabel.”

“What are you scared of then?”

“The Assassin.”

The princess forced a laugh as she loosened the stays on Cara’s corset. “He’s nothing to be afraid of. He wants to kill me, not you.”

As Mariel freed Cara of the restrictive corset, the younger girl turned with wide eyes. “That’s what I’m afraid of, you dying.”

With her throat unexpectedly tight, Mariel turned toward the wall so that Cara could help her undress. She could feel her friend’s trembling hands and felt the overpowering desire to abate her fears.

“You shouldn’t worry. We have three magicians and many guards to protect us and I have a fair hand with a sword, if I don’t say so myself. The Assassin would need an army to get through us.”

“I haven’t seen the magicians since we arrived here this afternoon.”

Mariel was disturbed by this observation. She should have noticed the missing men. Preoccupations in the form of fear of the Assassin and her memories and an incessantly whining Isabel had distracted the normally observant Mariel.

Stepping out of Cara’s grasp before the girl started unlacing her corset, Mariel clambered onto the creaky bed that smelled of old body odor, carefully avoiding the arsenal of weapons that she had place on the bed after taking them off. With some effort, the faded blue shutters surrendered to her force and swung open to reveal the half-concealed starry sky belonging to the December night.

Scanning what she could of the dark forest Mariel saw nothing except for a glimmer of white, which was the coat of her faithful unicorn friend. Iyela sent a questioning feeling toward Mariel, regarding why she had opened the window.

“Is he there?” Cara asked fearfully.

“No,” Mariel said, not bothering to mention that if he were, she probably would be screaming in madness and fear. “But where are the magicians?” She muttered. “Are you afraid?”

“No,” Mariel lied. “I’m concerned—there’s a difference.”

Cara did not protest this statement. She was quiet for several long moments, while Mariel knelt on the bed with her hand subconsciously resting on her sword as she watched Iyela standing near the edge of the wood.

“He’ll never stop hunting you.”

The way that Cara said those words left Mariel feeling cold, and it had nothing to do with the open shutters. She gripped her sword tighter and slowly turned her head to look at her friend.

“He would stop if I surrender my claim to the throne.”

Cara shook her head, not meeting the princess’s eyes. “He wants to kill you because you are a de Sharec. He would still want you dead even if you were not princess.”

“How do you know that?”

“James told me.”

“And what else did he tell you?” she demanded angrily. “That you should help me remember because I will die if I don’t?”

“He said the only place you would ever be safe is in Ambras Añue.”

Mariel froze at the name of the zreshlan city spoken by her human friend.

“What did he tell you about Ambras Añue?”

Cara glanced at the door leading to the hallway where James, Tristan, and Captain Clemens waited for them to finish changing so that they could come in. The copper-haired girl leaned toward Mariel and said in a low voice, “He said that the friends who raised you, the zreshlans, are the only ones who can protect you.”

The girl had barely finished speaking when Mariel leapt off the bed with sword in hand and threw open the door. The three men standing in the hallway tried to look innocent, but Mariel knew they had been listening at the door, it was in their training.

By the looks of the stances they held, the men had heard the squeal of the bed and her footsteps before she flung open the door, but they had not been expecting to find her dressed only in chemise and corset. Captain Clemens had the etiquette to look away, but James and Tristan gaped open-mouthed.

Mariel did not hesitate. She grabbed the shocked James by his shirtfront and pulled him forcefully into the room. She spun and hooked her leg behind him. He to crashed to the floor and banged his head on the wall as he fell. James had been too surprised by Mariel’s appearance and quick actions to even try to fight back and he had barely hit the floor when the girl straddled his chest with Aracklin inches from his throat.

“You revealed a secret that was not yours to tell.”

To Mariel’s surprise, James laughed. “The amount you touch me I’d think you wanted more than friendship, but your sword always seems to be involved.” He glanced pointedly at the weapon directed at his throat.

Mariel was not amused, especially when she watched his mischievous eyes slowly move over her body and rest the longest on her pushed up cleavage. Inching the sword closer to his throat, she reminded him of the danger he was in.

“Don’t joke with me,” she warned. “You’ve seen what I’m capable of.”

“Please stop!” Cara cried.

“Highness,” Captain Clemens said evenly. “If you would put down the sword, we could discuss this civilly.”

“I like this conversation better.”

“Don’t worry,” James said cheerfully. “She does this a lot.”

“You might not survive this time.”

“I think the odds are in my favor.”

“Do you admit you told Cara about Ambras Añue?”

“Guilty.”

“That’s not your secret!”

“She deserves to know.”

“Who else did you tell?”

“Only Cara.”

“Why? Do you like to brag about it to every girl you take to your bed?”

A gasp from Cara and the sound of her bursting into tears told Mariel her assumption had been incorrect. Guilt formed a painful ball in Mariel’s chest.

“You degrade your friend,” James told her coldly. “I haven’t touched Cara.”

Looking sideways through curly strands of her hair, Mariel saw Cara sitting on the bed with a blanket around her, crying. The weight of Aracklin became too heavy to hold, and she set the weapon harmlessly to the floor. Once again she had let her anger control her.

“You shouldn’t have told her.”