I reached out, clasping her work-roughened hand briefly. “Thank you. I won’t forget this.”
“See that you don’t,” she replied, her tone suddenly brisk. “Now go, before they send someone looking for you. Winyour tournament, play the dutiful son. Tonight, you become something else entirely.”
I slipped from the pantry and through the kitchen, my mind racing faster than my stallion ever could. The joust awaited, followed by the sword competition. I would excel at both, would give my father and brother and Gaspard no reason to suspect my intentions. I would smile and bow and accept accolades as the dutiful second son.
And then, under cover of darkness, I would become what I’d always truly been beneath the trappings of royalty. A man who did what was right, regardless of consequence. A man who protected those who couldn’t protect themselves.
I would find Isabeau before the hunters did. Before the beasts of the forest reclaimed her. Before whatever curse or magic bound her to that place could sink its teeth into her flesh once more.
I would find her, and this time, I would listen. Really listen to what she’d been trying to tell me all along.
Even if it meant I could never return to the life I’d known. Even if it meant forsaking my birthright, my family, my kingdom.
Some prices were worth paying. Some people worth saving. And Isabeau, with her amber eyes and resilient spirit, was worth everything.
forty-eight
Isabeau
The mare’s steady rhythm beneath me had become my entire world for hours. Hoofbeats beginning to mark time like a heartbeat, carrying me farther from gilded captivity and closer to uncertain freedom. My thighs burned from the constant friction against the saddle, my lower back a knot of tension that promised worse pain tomorrow.
But discomfort was a small price for escape. Night approached with the same inevitability as the hunt I knew would follow once they discovered my absence. If they hadn’t already.
I leaned forward, patting the mare’s sweat-slicked neck. “Just a bit longer, girl,” I murmured, though I wasn’t sure how much farther either of us could go. We’d been riding since mid-afternoon, stopping only briefly to let her drink at a stream while I stretched my cramped legs.
The road had given way to less-traveled paths hours ago. Now we moved through rolling countryside that grew wilder with each mile, the cultivated fields behind us replaced by scrubby undergrowth and increasingly dense copses of trees. Ahead, the looming shadow of the Forbidden Forest stretched across the horizon, its twisted silhouette black against the bruised-purple sky.
My raven friend appeared again, a darker shadow against the dimming light, swooping low before me with a soft caw of greeting. It had found me not long after I’d passed beyond the city gates, as if it had been waiting, watching for my escape. Since then, it had been my guide, flying ahead to scout the way before circling back to ensure I followed.
“Show me where to go,” I said, my voice rough from hours of disuse. “I can’t see much farther in this light.”
The bird banked sharply to the right, wings outstretched like fingers pointing toward a narrow path I might have missed otherwise. I guided the mare that way, trusting the raven more than my own senses as twilight thickened around us.
Though, I began to wonder about the bird. How it was so intelligent and bonded to me. One day, I’d have time for questions, but right now, we needed a place to rest.
We crested a small rise, and I saw it. A stone bridge spanning a narrow river that cut through the valley below. The water glinted like hammered silver in the last of the day’s light, its gentleburbling reaching my ears even at this distance. The bridge itself was old, moss-covered in places, but solid-looking enough. More importantly, it offered shelter beneath its arch.
The raven circled the bridge three times, letting out three distinct caws before landing on the stone parapet. I recognized the signal immediately. This was where I should stop for the night.
“Thank you, friend,” I said, relieved to have found shelter before complete darkness fell.
I guided the mare down to the riverbank, dismounting on legs that threatened to buckle beneath me. My body had grown soft during my weeks of convalescence in the castle, and the long ride had taken more out of me than I’d expected. I led the mare to the water’s edge, letting her drink while I assessed our temporary haven.
The bridge’s underside formed a crude half-cave, the stone arch providing cover from both prying eyes and whatever weather might come in the night. The ground beneath was relatively dry, with enough space for me and the mare to shelter together. It wasn’t the royal apartments I’d fled, but it wasn’t Gaspard’s dungeon either.
I shivered at the thought of his name, at the memory of what the king had planned for me. A hunt. Like I was an animal to be chased down for sport. I closed my eyes, pushing away the image of Gaspard’s face, that perfect smile hiding the monster beneath.
“We can’t go further tonight,” I told the mare, who had finished drinking and now stood patiently beside me. “The forest isn’t safe after dark, not even with my friend to guide us.”
After the wolves had found me, their teeth tearing into my flesh as I spoke to Papa, I’d learned that darkness belonged to the predators. Even with my emerging powers, I wouldn’t risk those shadows. Not when the beasts couldn’t protect me like then, and they needed me alive.
I unsaddled the mare, rubbing her down with handfuls of the long grass that grew along the riverbank. The poor creature deserved better care than I could provide, but she seemed content enough with my ministrations, nuzzling my shoulder when I finished.
“You’re not so different from me,” I whispered to her. “Taken from your home, used for others’ purposes. At least you’ll have a warm stable to return to when this is done.”
If she lived through whatever was coming. If any of us did.
I spread the cloak Brigida had given me on the ground beneath the bridge, creating a makeshift bed that was hardly more than a layer of wool between my body and the hard-packed earth. From the bundle she’d packed, I took a small piece of bread and cheese, forcing myself to eat slowly despite my hunger. I didn’t know when I’d find food again once I entered the forest.
