She was certainly a better choice than those birds.
But even knowing that didn’t take away the ache of wanting her, of looking over to catch the tilt of her brow at something ridiculous Phoebe did, or waiting with anticipation for the sun to set because he knew he would be able to hear her voice. It took everything in him not to march to the castle and carry her away, and it was only the fact that he had promised to respect her wishes that he didn’t.
Phoebe honked at him from where she sat proudly atop the pile of split wood. From the open door of the kitchen, he heard Ms. Fumley’s voice carry through the air in a surprised greeting.
He scowled, shouldered his axe, and marched to the house.
I don’t have the patience for this today.
“Is that the sound of my next meal?” he bellowed. “I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”
He stopped short as Ms. Fumley arrived at the kitchen door, followed by a man only a few years his junior with dark hair and well-tailored clothes that had obviously not been made for climbing the Beanstalk. The man’s right shirtsleeve was torn, and a second white sleeve peeked out from underneath the dark blue linen.
Atlas looked him up and down. He was taller than average, but still at least a foot and a half shorter than he was. “Eh,” he grumbled. “Looks stringy.”
The stranger lifted his brows in amusement.
“Atlas!” Ms. Fumley hissed through clenched teeth. “This is the crown prince.”
“I see.” Atlas rocked back on his heels as his heart sank. “I guess Lindy’s counter-curse must have worked, then?”
Prince Corbin held up his right arm, letting the ripped sleeve fall open. “Mostly.” What Atlas had mistaken for fabric before was a layer of soft, white feathers. “One of the shirts wasn’t quite finished.”
“I would offer my condolences,” he drawled, “but honestly, it serves you right.”
The prince surprised him by agreeing. “It does. And every day that I see myself, it’s a reminder not to take people at their face value, to look below the surface.”
Atlas shifted the weight of his axe on his shoulder. “How inspiring. I take it there’s another reason you’veclimbed up here and disturbed my peace, other than letting me know that you’ve acquired an ounce of human decency and morality?”
“Atlas!” Ms. Fumley hissed again.
Prince Corbin waved the words away. “Lindy’s been arrested.”
“WHAT?”
“Haldrick still believes her responsible for my father’s death, and, unfortunately, he’s convinced a majority of the court that I’m not of sound enough mind to vouch for her innocence. He wants her executed.”
Atlas gripped the handle of the axe until his knuckles turned white. He gritted his teeth together. “No.”
Prince Corbin fixed Atlas with a purposeful stare. “Do you love her?”
“Yes.” He answered the question more easily than breathing.
“How do you feel about storming a castle?”
Atlas dropped his axe, already on his way to the Beanstalk. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”
Chapter Thirteen
LINDY
The throne room was sweltering.
Lindy shifted her weight, hoping that the movement would hide the fact that she was shaking with nerves. It was one thing to expect a death sentence as a hypothetical; it was quite another to be standing in the room, waiting for it to hit her in the face. She was thankful, at least, that Corbin had demanded she be allowed to bathe, treat her blisters, and change into clean clothes before her trial. Though the crown prince’s soundness of mind was in question, his words still held quite a bit of weight.
Just not enough to get her out of there alive.
Haldrick had taken over the throne room, turning it into the center of his own investigations. While he hadn’t gone so far as to sit in Theodor’s throne, he was standing directly in front of it, using its kingless presence as a wordless reminder to the people of why exactly Lindy was there.
