“There you are.” A sigh of relief accompanied Shea’s words. “I was starting to worry that you had left me behind.”
“I fell asleep. I blame sleeping on hard floors.” He rubbed his eyes as he walked. “I can’t believe I wasted so much time.”
Shea grabbed his arm as he pushed past. “Fred, it’s still early in the day. Taking the time to rest your body is never a waste of time. What use will you be to your bride if you kill yourself trying to get to her?”
Freddy’s shoulders sagged in capitulation. “You’re right. I just hate that we’ve had so many delays already. What if we lose her?”
“We’ll find her.” Shea gave him a reassuring clap on the shoulder before leading the way as they retraced their steps to Chrys’s front door. “We know she was heading to Anura, and the road that leads through Ackens would have been the swiftest way there. All we need to do is get on that road and then start asking anyone if they’ve seen a beautiful, intimidating princess pass by. Lizzie is a woman who is hard to miss.”
Ha, Freddy aimed the wry laugh at Shea’s back.He’s not wrong. I’ve been missing Lizzie for ten years, and it’s still hard every day.
He shook his head. That thought was far too gloomy.We’re going to find her. She left too soon for me to explain that it’s me, and not some troll from the north. And when we do find her, maybe I’ll finally be able to solve the mystery of what happened.
Buoyed by that thought, he smiled and added a little more energy to his step.
I was able to break through her cold exterior with a little sunshine before, and I can do it again. Ice can’t stand for long against the sun.
The garden path widened enough for two, and Shea fell back into step beside him. “Your optimism is so loud I can hear it.”
Freddy threw his arm over Shea’s shoulder. “All thanks to your little pep talk. I’m glad we could take this wedding trip together.”
Shea laughed. “I would say that I’ll be here anytime your wife runs away to escape being married to you, but I sincerely hope this is the only time it happens.”
Freddy froze as Shea’s words landed squarely on a memory only recently brought to the surface.
“If I were ever to make a run for it, I think I would go to Norditch.”
“Fred? Is everything alright?”
His grin stretched even wider across his face. “It’s better than alright. I know where she’s going, Shea. How do you feel about reindeer?”
“Reindeer? Why?
“Because we’re going to Norditch.”
Chapter Eight
Lizzie
Three weeks later…
Life as a princess had prepared Lizzie for many things, but surviving alone on a frigid, snow-covered island was not one of them.
She rubbed her stiff, chapped fingers together over the few pitiful flames she had managed to light in the hearth. They were barely enough to take the edge off the numbness that seemed to take up permanent residence in her fingertips since her arrival in Norditch two days earlier. The winter coat she had brought with her from home was enough to keep the chill away while she was traveling, but she had unfortunately forgotten gloves inher haste to leave—an oversight that she had lamented more and more with every mile north.
I don’t have gloves, but I also don’t have a wedding ring on my finger, which seems a fair trade.
The decision to run away had been made rather rashly—spurred on as it was by emotions so strong that they actually managed to breach the surface of her curse—but she could not bring herself to regret it. Though she had known for years that her future would be determined by the country with the deepest pockets or most compelling influence, being thrown into the arms of a beggar in one of her father’s fits of rage was not a scenario she either expected or appreciated.
Hence her flight.
But now that she had arrived at her destination, Lizzie was faced with the troubling reality that she had no idea how to live on her own. The tiny, ramshackle hut that she currently called her home had taken nearly all of her remaining coins to obtain, and the few that were left would not last long. She knew enough about economics and trade to understand that once the pieces of copper were gone, she had nothing of marketable value to trade for the food and firewood that would be necessary for survival.
It was rather ironic, now that she could look at the whole situation without emotion clouding her judgment, that she found herself in the same economic state as she would have been had she married the minstrel.
Though without being tied to life to someone who would likely just try to use me for my connections and influence.
A knock on the weathered wooden door drew her attention from the pathetic fire. Through the wide cracks between the splintered planks Lizzie could see two short silhouettes. She crossed the entirety of her living space in three steps and pulled the door open.
