“Unless they have no intention of seeing you dead,” he said calmly.
Chapter Seven
Isabella’s eyes flared, and she blanched as the full impact of his statement hit her. She sat back in her seat and licked nervously at her lip. An interesting reaction, indeed. Would not such a revelation be met with relief? Simon studied her intently, awaiting her response. He was convinced more than ever that he had been correct in his assessment.
“What…what makes you say that?” she stammered. “I assure you, nothing they have done has given me the impression they wish me anything but dead.”
She rubbed her abdomen as she spoke as if remembering the injury she had sustained in her first encounter.
“I wondered that myself,” he murmured. “But the more I thought about it, the more I began to think perhaps you have something they want. Something they want very badly. Badly enough to want to take you alive.” He looked pointedly at her as he finished his statement.
Her voice shook discernibly now as she spoke. “What could I possibly have that they would want?”
“That is a good question indeed. One I would very much like the answer to.”
He leaned close to her, pinning her with the full force of his gaze. “You are not telling me everything, Princess. And I can’t keep you safe unless you start talking. I think you know exactly what they want.”
Though his accusation was a shot in the dark, he knew immediately he had hit upon the truth. She paled and looked away, her agitation increasing. She leapt from her seat and turned her back to him, her hands fisted at her side.
Then she slowly turned back to him, her breath coming in shallow spurts. Sweat beaded her forehead, and he could read the indecision that ripped through her. She let out her breath in a long sigh, her cheeks puffing slightly with the effort.
“T-they want something I took from the palace before I fled,” she said in a tremulous voice.
Anticipation nearly made him hasty, but he quickly schooled his response. “What did you take?”
“A map.”
“A map?” He couldn’t hide the incredulity in his outburst. “You’ve been pursued all the way to England, your brother killed, all because of a map? Is this why your parents were murdered?”
“I don’t know if it iswhymy parents were murdered,” she whispered. “But I know they seek the map. Without it, they cannot secure the throne.”
“And where is this map?”
She reached over to her boots drying by the fire and retrieved a rolled up parchment from inside one of them. Holding it out to him, she said, “Many have died over the years protecting this map. I have no doubt there are those who would kill to have it.”
His mind raced to comprehend what she was saying. Unrolling the dampened parchment, he looked in disbelief at the indecipherable scribblings, the crude drawings. It was obviously a map of sorts, but of what?
He glanced back up at her, and she reached for the map. He made no move to offer it back to her. “What is so important about this map?”
“I don’t expect you to understand,” she said in a low voice.
“Try me.”
She gazed at him for a long moment then sank back down in her chair. “Sit down please. You make me nervous standing over me that way.”
He sat down on the stool and looked expectantly at her.
“The map is the only way to access the Royal Leaudorian relics.”
“I see, so greed is their motive?”
She went on, ignoring his interruption. “This isn’t just any treasure. Leaudorian law prohibits a ruler from ascending the throne unless they have in their possession at the time of coronation, the Jeweled Scepter and the Royal Emerald. Both are integral parts of our history.
“For centuries, before a new king or queen is crowned, the heir to the throne has journeyed deep into the ancient caves that are carved into the Marble Cliffs. The map is necessary to navigate the maze of passageways. They must retrieve the scepter and the emerald and make their way back out in time for the ceremony.”
He shook his head, trying to make sense of her explanation. It sounded like something contrived from a gothic novel.
Isabella fixed him with a stare, pausing in her tale. “I knew this would be beyond your understanding. Our customs are far removed from the English ways of conducting their affairs. We are deeply rooted in our traditions, our history, and our ways transcend the normal realm of human understanding.”
