Marlow hunched her shoulders and clasped her arms around herself as if she was injured.
The driver pulled the reins, easing the carriage to a stop as the officers drew their rifles. They approached warily, searching the road for any sign of an ambush.
“Thank the gods,” Marlow called. “I need help.”
“What are you doing out here?” an officer asked.
“My home was attacked.” She pointed toward the hamlet. “They’re all dead.”
A startled cry came from the carriage, and both officers spun, rifles raised. The door burst open, and a finely dressed figure tumbled out, landing on the hard-packed dirt with a jarring thud.
One officer took off toward the body, and Marlow grabbed the other by the arm. He let out a pained cry, face contorted, before dropping.
As the other arrived at the carriage door, a gunshot rang out, and he collapsed in a heap.
Felix leaned out, one hand on the grab bar. He drew his second pistol and turned it on the driver.
The lanky man lifted his hands in surrender. “I’ll drive you wherever you’re goin’.”
Felix was quiet a beat, then asked, “Mar, you know how to drive one of these?”
“Oh, I do, yeah. Got a gold-plated carriage back in Bedwyck. Keep it under my bunk.”
Felix gave her a long, flat look. “August? How about you?”
August dragged himself out of hiding. He’d been riding horses since he was a child, so he may have been able to figure out a carriage, but he wasn’t eager to help them.
“Not a clue.”
Felix holstered his gun. “It’s your lucky day, driver. Take us to Haverglen.” He slipped gracefully back inside and called, “Come on, Auggie.”
Marlow shot August an impatient look, then climbed in after Felix.
August lingered, searching for any sign of Lottie.
Nothing.
She’d find him. She always did.
His eyes flicked to the bodies sprawled on the ground, eyeing their rifles. He wouldn’t know how to use one, and his hands were still tied.
“August!” Felix shouted from inside. “Get in the bleedin’ carriage!”
August let out an irritated huff and started for the road. “Gods, you are insufferable.”
When a royal guard came searching for August, Lottie offered her prepared excuse, and the guard accepted it. She didn’t give it any further thought until the next afternoon, when her mother shoved into her bedchambers, a crease carved across her usually flawless brow.
“Where is your brother?”
Lottie set her book aside, annoyed at the forceful entrance. She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms.
“Have you checked his chambers?”
August was a late sleeper, especially after a long night out.
“The guards have been searching the castle since last night to no avail. Whereishe?”
Lottie’s stomach plummeted. August was always home before sunrise. He wouldn’t stay out and risk being caught.
