The prince laughed, resting his hands on his hips. “Well, that’s hardly a curse, is it? A woman who keeps her mouth shut?” He pressed the coin pouch into my father’s hands.
My head shook. I silently pleaded with Father to construct another lie, to come up with something that would prevent these strangers from stealing me away, or at least to buy time.
Then a gruff set of hands took me by the waist and hoisted me up like I weighed nothing. The viscount placed me on the back of his horse, then climbed up behind me. These men in all their finery were no better than the barbarians of yore.
There was nothing my father could do but fall to his knees, a wide-eyed horror settling in. To shout in protest might earn a reaction from the hunting party—one did not say no to the prince.
A silent, wordless exchange passed between us as we drew further from each other.
Lord Quinn muttered something that sounded like disbelief in his foreign tongue, and the cottage slowly disappeared behind the vegetation of the forest.
Chapter 3
My mouth hungopen as my abductors took me past cultivated barley fields and manicured plots of land. I’d never seen such a vast uniformity before, or the fluffy white animals that assisted in the landscaping effort. They bleated, chewing grass and staring vacantly toward the procession of hunters. Those fat, cloud-like beasts didn’t seem afraid of the men. For a too-fleeting moment, I forgot all about the looming dread I had felt since being taken from my home hours prior.
The next first, in what was apparently to be a series of firsts, was a small village not much farther down the path. Homes were built on top of one another, their exteriors shifting from red brick to half-timbered construction. As the horses trotted along, a small crowd of onlookers stopped and kneeled beside the narrow road. There had to be at least fifty people here, likely more. So many distinct faces, bodies, clothes… I could hardly take it in before we passed the small crowd. How rich each life must have been with neighbors so close-by.
The road widened and improved. Great manors appeared, acres of land between them. We rode uphill, horses grunting from the shifting incline, until a mountain came into view, cut off from the world by a winding river. The sun set behind tall towers that peeked out from atop the highest ledge, banners of red and gold flapping in a breeze unknown to us.
We took a route lined with trees and posted soldiers that stood in rigid salute. The road went on, steep and dotted with little service buildings, gardens, and outposts, until at last we came to asubstantial wall, the gatehouse at the center marked clearly with the Callan coat-of-arms: a golden hart roaring atop the crest, supported on either side by silver towers.
I gawked at the size of the gate, barely hearing the amiable exchange between the head of the procession and the guards. As it parted, a grand courtyard revealed itself, surrounded by small buildings along the walls. The biggest of the structures stretched on forever, and that was the palace of the Callans. The horses entered the courtyard, maneuvering around a rectangular field of grass and stopping at the main entrance. The gate shut behind us, sealing me within the prince’s cage.
A boy approached in fine clothes, but before he could get a word in, the viscount snapped at him. “Fetch Winnie Balden.”
The boy departed as quickly as he came. Not long after, a girl about my age rushed from the entrance, free strands of brown hair flapping about her face from beneath a mob cap. She was dressed modestly in a white apron, but despite her meager appearance, there was a perceptible dignity in her gait.
“Welcome home, Lord Navarro. Justen said you sent for me.” Her voice was eloquent, more polished than I’d expected from a servant. Perhaps some books painted unfair caricatures. Her russet eyes fell to me and widened with what I assumed to be alarm. “What’s this?” What, not who.
I schooled my face to stay neutral, cautious of offending the wrong person. I knew from stories that nobles were a mercurial lot.
“A stray in desperate need of a bath,” Lord Quinn told her. He came down from the cob and assisted me without so much as a glance in my direction. “See to that, will you?”
Winnie confirmed with decisive action, taking me away from the man and bringing me into one of the smaller buildings…which turned out to be a home, and a large one at that. It was easy to underestimate the size of the construct when comparing it to the whole of the castle.
It was unnaturally warm inside. Winnie had only to turn a tap for water to come rushing from a half-hidden pipe in the wall into a bucket below. Steam rose from the metal container, and the servant bailed it into an even larger receptacle of oak. I watched thegirl go back and forth from pipe to basin, and when the water halffilled it, she fanned herself and gestured.
“Well? Go on then,” she said. “What are you standing around for? Undress, woman.”
I blinked, glancing down at my woolen cloaks and kirtle before looking back at Winnie. She was a woman, immune to the curse’s effects. Icouldask one of the thousand questions starting to form in my thoughts, but she had a quiet strength about her that made her every bit as intimidating as the viscount.
The servant tapped her foot, then groaned and came nearer, reaching for my clothes. “Must I do it for you?”
I smacked her hand away. Winnie regarded the site of insult with a furrowed brow before casting a bone-chilling glare my way.
Someone knocked. She opened the door, greeted by the viscount as he snapped his fingers. Two more men came in and unloaded a medium-sized wooden chest marked with the Callan’s hart insignia.
“My lord, who is this woman?” asked Winnie, eyeing the chest with alert suspicion.
Viscount Quinn’s penetrating gaze fell on me, and I detected little more than abject disgust. His menacing appearance was worsened by the addition of a scar that cut through his left eyebrow, one I’d failed to notice until now. “She’s to marry the prince, I suppose. See to it she looks the part…as well as you can, anyway.”
Upon the viscount’s exit, Winnie scratched her head, then adjusted her tone. “Will you be needing assistance with removing your clothes, my lady?”
I could have scoffed, but I kept my composure and shook my head. There was no way I’d be getting any privacy, so I disrobed as she’d demanded. Just as soon as my shift hit the floor, I dipped my toes into the tub, covering my mouth to suppress a yelp from the scald of the water.
I gradually submerged myself, battling the discomfort.
Winnie came around with a vial that smelled of roses, pouring its contents into the water until it turned murky.
