Everything is the same as it was when Cairn stole me away.The only thing that isn’t is me.
Brennan reins in near the stables and dismounts. When he reaches up to pull me down, I don’t fight him. There’s little point. There’s nowhere left to run. He draws the dagger from its sheath at his hip and cuts the rope binding my hands together.
“This way, Princess.” His hand curves around my elbow.
I pull away from him, and take a step forward. My thighs are aching from the days of being in the saddle. My back is a solid knot of pain, and the skin on my wrists has been rubbed by the ropes until it’s red and sensitive.
But I will hold my head up and walk into the palace like the princess I was born to be. I will not let anyone hold me up like I’m weak and frail.
Brennan’s hand finds my arm again, steering me toward a small door set into the side of the stables. A servant’s entrance, which means Brennan is avoiding the main halls and keeping me out of sight.
The servant passages are narrow and dim. We climb stairs I’ve used maybe twice in my life, and emerge in a hallway near my father’s private chambers. Brennan stops outside the study door and speaks to one of the guards in a low voice. The guard disappears inside.
I stand silently beside Brennan, and try to prepare myself. But my mind feels stuffed with wool. I’m tired, sore, and scared of what might be coming.
The door opens again.
“Bring her in.”
My father’s voice. I know every tone of it. The warmth when he’s pleased, the steel when he’s angry, and the careful formality when he’s holding something back. This is none of those. This is something I’ve never heard before.
Brennan guides me through the doorway.
The study looks just as it did the last time I stood in it. The heavy desk is cluttered with papers, the shelves are lined with books. And my father is sitting behind his desk, writing. When he sees me, the quill slips from his fingers.
“Alleria.”
He’s around the desk and pulling me into his arms before I can speak. His hold is crushing, his hands fisting into the back of my tunic.
“Thank the gods! You’re alive.” The words come out ragged. “When the days kept passing, and there was no word, I thought?—”
I wrap my arms around him. “I’m all right.”
He pulls back eventually, his hands framing my face. “You’ve lost weight. You need food, a bath, and rest.” He glances toward the door, raising his voice. “Someone fetch the healer, and have a bath drawn in the princess’s chambers.”
A servant scurries off, and my father’s arm settles around my shoulder.
“I don’t need a healer. I’m not hurt.”
“Humor your father.” He turns us both toward the door. “Come. We can talk later, once you’ve rested.”
As we pass Brennan standing just outside the doorway, my father pauses.
“Wait here. I want a full report once I have my daughter settled.”
Brennan nods. His eyes meet mine for a moment, then we’re past him and out into the hallway.
“Take the princess to her chamber,” he instructs one of the guards, then squeezes my shoulder. “Rest. I’ll come up as soon as I’m done here.” Then he’s gone, back into the study with Brennan on his heels.
“Your Highness?” I turn to the guard waiting for me, and nod, following him through the familiar hallways. He keepsglancing at me, but doesn’t try to make conversation.
When we reach my chambers, he stops in the doorway. “Your bath will be ready shortly. Is there anything else you need?”
“No. Thank you.” He bows and leaves, pulling the door closed behind him.
I walk to the window and look out at the gardens below. The roses are blooming. They weren’t blooming when Cairn spirited me away.
How long has it been? Weeks? More than a month? I’ve lost track. So much has changed in that time.
