“I volunteered to bring some leftover vegetables for the horses.”
“You’re back on kitchen duty?”
I smiled tightly. “Like I said, Castor has new playthings. And thekitchens needed extra help with all the suitors.”
“So nobody was suspicious?”
“No.” I waved a hand. “Everyone’s too preoccupied with news of Helen’s betrothal anyway. She made her decision this morning.”
“Did you tell anyone we were meeting?”
I shook my head. “What’s up with you?”
Melanthius opened his mouth to reply, but his eyes caught on my bandaged hand. His gaze then traveled down to my legs and the fresh scabs crisscrossing over my knees.
“What’s that?”
“It’s nothing,” I said, pushing off the wall. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
He stared at me for a long moment. I knew he was debating whether to press me on my injuries, but neither of us had ever been very good at talking about our wounds. Thankfully, he relented and grabbed my arm, pulling me farther into the stables.
When he spoke again, his voice was a sharp, urgent whisper. “What if I told you we could leave?”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re planning an escape. On the day of the joint wedding, when everyone will be too drunk and distracted to know what’s what. We’ll get outta here, Mel. We’ll finally befree.”
Reckless hope flared in his eyes, so bright I found myself instinctively recoiling.
“How would we ever manage that?”
“We’ve got it all sorted. Don’t you worry. There’s six of us total. Three of the stable lads, me, you, and…Melitta.”
“Melitta?”
“She works in the kitchens.”
I vaguely knew the girl—small and pretty, with round, freckled cheeks.
“Let me guess.” I sighed. “You’re in love with her?”
“I am, Mel. I really am.”
“You said that about the last one,” I pointed out. “And the one before that.”
“Melitta is different.” A giddy smile spread across Melanthius’s face. “She’s the one. Iknowshe is.”
For some reason, his happiness only made the dread curdle thicker in my gut.
“Trying to run away is madness. You could die. Or worse.”
“It’s worth the risk,” he insisted. “Melitta is worth the risk.”
I rolled my eyes again. “You’ll change your mind about her. You always do.”
“No, I won’t, Mel. Not this time.”
There was something in Melanthius’s expression then, a wisp of fearful hope pressing between his eyes, tightening around his mouth.
