He takes a deep breath. His emotion subsides as he stares at me intently. “But you could have been hurt.”
“I’m perfectly fine.”
He nods, looking relieved, then turns to Marcus. “Is it the Kilandrar?”
“No…” Marcus kneels down, inspecting a scuff mark on the windowsill. He traces the outline of a boot. He then notices a small amount of blood on floor below the window that looks like it was deliberately used to draw a symbol—a line with three triangles under it. Maybe Lydia was trying to tell us something. “This is the work of men,” Marcus concludes.
My mind races. Someone snuck in through the window? I’m scrambling for answers. “Why would someone kidnap Lydia?”
“She’s no ordinary bridal attendant.” Marcus’s expression is grave. He and Dietan exchange a look I can’t interpret, then Dietan nods and he continues. “She’s your body double. Every member of the royal family has one for their protection.” He shoots a dark look at Dietan. “Some are too foolhardy to use them.”
“You know why I can’t,” Dietan says.
I suspect I know why, too. His secret is too great to let anyone get that close.
My skin pricks with gooseflesh.A body double.I should have suspected there was another reason for Lydia’s solicitousness. I bought the explanation of a bridal attendant too easily, caught up in my own lie about being engaged to Dietan. Lydia was not just a lady’s maid; she was my shadow. Whenever I wasn’t with Dietan, she hardly left my side for a moment. And now she’s missing.
“You’re saying that someone was trying to kidnapme? But why?”Oh, right.It’s because I’m supposedly going to be a princess. Someone of worth. Someone to ransom or take hostage.
Marcus exchanges a glance with Dietan, who looks distressed, pale, and weary.
“What are we doing? We’ve got to find her,” I say. It’s infuriating that they’re all just standing there. “They can’t have gone too far!”
“We’ll send a team to find her,” Marcus says. “But for now, we must get you and Dietan as far away from this place as possible.”
I hate that he makes sense, that he must put the prince’s safety above all else. “We can’t just leave her,” I insist, but I’m swimming against the current.
Dietan turns to me, anguished. “I didn’t want to frighten you. But we had to take certain precautions. We’ve had word that the Usurper’s agents—and not only the Kilandrar—have been more active lately.”
“But we can’t just leave. This isn’t fair—they wanted me, not her.”
“Lydia’s a brave girl. She knew what she was signing up for,” Marcus says grimly. “She is a trained warrior, not just a lady’s maid. All royal body doubles are. If it hadn’t been her, it would have beenyou.”
I feel numb all over, even as Dietan puts a comforting arm around my shoulders. “Don’t blame yourself,” he says sincerely.
But I do blame myself. If only I hadn’t left the room. Maybe the two of us together could have fended off the kidnappers. Lydia might be dead now, and it’s all my fault.
Chapter Twenty-One
Dietan
I’m glad for the distraction of having to pack quickly. I clench my jaw and hope Lydia was able to fight them off. She didn’t deserve this. I say a prayer for her safe return, even though I know it’s unlikely. She’s either dead or had to avail herself of the hemlock all royal guards carry in case the worst should happen. Aren mentioned that there were less painful options when I informed her of this policy, but Marcus prioritizes speed and efficacy over comfort. Maybe Aren and I will implement some changes when this is all over.
But of course, there is no Aren and I once this is over. Again, I have to remind myself that this is purely a business deal.
Marcus sent two of his best soldiers to look for Lydia, but the rest of the company must be on our way. Getting Aren away from danger as fast as we can is priority. We make quick work of stuffing our sundries and supplies into satchels and sling them onto the carriage. As dawn breaks, we water the horses and load our gear. By the time the sun creeps above the distant hills, our royal caravan is back on the road.
Instead of traveling as a pack as we have done so far, Marcus has set up a perimeter around our convoy. A handful of men scout ahead and few guards bring up the rear to alert us to any signs of trouble.
I climb into the carriage and take a seat across from Aren, who’s turned toward the window, her pale face contrasting with the glow of the morning light. She’s staring at the landscape, but it’s clear her thoughts are elsewhere. Her eyes, reflected in the glass, are glazed, her stare a thousand miles away.
Of course, she blames herself for Lydia’s kidnapping. No matter how many times I assure her it wasn’t her fault—that she could be dead if she were in Lydia’s place—it doesn’t help. I’m grateful Aren snuck out and wasn’t asleep in her bed last night. The thought of something happening to her—I don’t think I could bear it.
I can’t keep doing this.
Marcus is worried that whoever did this will soon figure out they’ve captured the wrong person and return to finish the job. Not to mention the Kilandrar are still prowling the land, hunting for me.
I take in Aren’s thick, wavy black hair, the gentle slope of her cheek in profile, her slender fingers propping up her chin. I lean over and clear my throat.
