I held the reins tightly.
“Where are you going?” the sentinel bellowed.
“I’ll be back soon. Don’t wait for me. If anyone asks, you never saw me. I don’t want to bring you any trouble.” I’d done enough damage. I didn’t need to drag the hapless guard down with me.
I urged Maeve on, desperate to get away from him, from everyone, from the palace. Apparently as eager as me, the mare took off. The ground flew beneath us, and the wind whipped the hair off my face. Finally, there was some distance between me and the castle. I only wished I could get away from the look of disappointment on Dallas’s face. But it was branded in my memory, destined to haunt me for all of eternity.
I cursed him.
I would give you the benefit of the doubt.
Well, wasn’t that just perfect? The morally and ethically immaculate prince would have handled the situation better than me if he’d been in my shoes. Must be nice. Must be nice to be so sure of everything, especially yourself.
Let him be perfect then. Maybe he would pick Shaye as his bride. They could be gorgeous and perfect and kind and morally superior together, preparing nutritious meals for peasants while looking like fashion models and just generally making anyone less perfect—i.e., everyone else—want to hurl themselves from the nearest bridge.
I grimaced. I didn’t want to think about him anymore. He was through with me.
And you’re through with him, I promptly reminded myself.
But still, his words were like a knife slicing through my heart. I needed your trust.
Pretending to myself that it was because of the wind, I let my tears freely fall.
I didn’t realize I’d ridden back to the spot Dallas had shown me, but I found myself there some time later. I tied Maeve to a tree and gave her another carrot. “Good girl.” I petted her behind the ears.
She whinnied, as if she were worried about me as I started down the path. “It’s okay, Maeve. I’ll just be a minute.”
But each step I took, I felt more weighted down with dread. I couldn’t stop the flood of memories. The day that Dallas had brought me here had been a happy one. I remembered the sun sparkling on him, his easy laugh as he teased me about the gnomes.
I climbed to the top of the rock and stared at the lake. Its beauty washed over me, but then it was like I couldn’t even see it. Dallas’s words from our visit here rang in my ears. I don’t have a lot of people in my life who are truthful about what they think and feel.
I winced. I’d pretended, yesterday. I’d used a script, sullying what we had by not being truthful, by not being brave enough to stand up for myself and what I believed in.
You did it to protect him. But today it seemed a weak excuse.
Maeve whinnied again, startling me out of my wallowing reverie.
“Well, hello there.” A figure stepped out from behind the trees.
“Oh!” I scrambled to my feet, heart pounding.
He came closer so that I could finally see him—human, with brown hair and brown eyes. His clothes were dirty and torn.
“I recognize you.” His eyes widened. “You’re the girl from the palace—the girl I saw with the prince.”
Then I remembered him. He was one of the rebel prisoners from the palace, captured during the last attack. I’d seen him in the hallway of the castle.
The prisoner sneered at me. “Who’s that? One of the sluts who’s here to turn on her own kind and marry the prince?”
Dallas had almost choked him to death, nearly ending him on the spot. But I begged him to stop. By the way the prisoner was looking at me now, I should’ve let the prince finish.
It was like my tongue had turned to lead. “Y-You’re the rebel, the prisoner who escaped.”
His dull eyes glittered as he came closer. “That’s right.”
I looked around, desperate for a stick or a rock, anything I could grab and use to fight him.
“Not so fast, love.” He made it to me in a flash, grabbing my wrists and locking them together.
“Get off me!” I struggled, trying to break free.
The prisoner smiled. “I don’t think so.”
“What do we have here?” Another man came out of the woods. He was young and handsome, dressed in a clean uniform, a far, civilized cry from the fetid rebel who’d captured me.
“A human girl—one from the contest.” The prisoner leered at me as I continued to fight.
“Let her go. She doesn’t need to be smelling your filth.” The other soldier climbed up as the prisoner released me.
He eyed me up and down, as if quickly assessing a use for me. Whatever it was, I wasn’t sticking around to find out. I ran for it.
I’d only made it two steps before the young rebel clamped a strong hand around my arm. “You’re not going anywhere, except with us.” He nodded to the prisoner, who went and grabbed their supplies.
The prisoner took out a rope, bound my wrists, and tied it around me. He took it in his hand like a leash. “We’re walking,” he explained.
I saw what looked like moss on his teeth. “You might want to find a toothbrush in your pack,” I quipped, “or seriously, never talk again.”
He got in my face. What I could see of his teeth behind the fuzz of plaque flashed, but the younger rebel pushed him off. “Stay away from her. And tell me what you know while we walk.”
Maeve whinnied, and they looked at each other. “You have a horse?” the younger man asked.
I didn’t answer, deciding from then on that I would not speak to them.
“I say we come back for it later. I saw this one”—the prisoner jerked the rope—“with the prince himself. She was a bit of a pet, I think. Let’s get her to the camp. She might be worth something.”
“Hmm.” The young rebel’s face lit up. “You just might be onto something, my friend. Tell me all about it.”