Thinking on her feet, she went up two steps and reached backward to pluck the candle from its cage. It took a few tries and a long stretch, but she was able to maneuver it out.
Not daring to enter the doorway at the top of the stairs, she ventured back out into the open courtyard. It was quite empty. The steward had said it was an interior courtyard, which likely meant that it was only used by those who lived in the castle. Ashlin could feel her heart pounding. She was not afraid of the dark, but being trapped in a strange place with no idea how to find her way out was unnerving.
That was, until a young man appeared from a doorway across the courtyard. He was wearing the uniform of the palace guard and carrying a long, thin candle that he was using to light the torches dotting the exterior walls.
Exhaling a deep breath, she quickly moved towards him. “Excuse me, Hommlyn?” she queried.
The young man paused his action and faced her. “No, miss. I’m Drirsi. Hommlyn hurt his leg and was sent home, so they sent me to fill in for him.”
“Oh, excellent.” She met his smile with one of her own. “Can you light this? The stairway back there is completely in the dark.”
“So is every other room in the whole palace, which is why I am rushing.” He dipped his long taper over her candle until the wick caught. “Could you do the rest of the torches in the stairway so I can hurry on to the other more used areas?”
“Of course!”
“Thank you ever so much.”
“Thank you, Drirsi!” she called over her shoulder as she returned to her waiting domain.
Climbing up the steps in order to reach the candle holder, she carefully slid the now-lit candle over the top of the protective cage, balancing it with her fingers until it fell into place. Fortunately, the flame did not go out as it landed in its place. By the dim light of the single candle, she went across to the other wall to get the next one. But when she brought it back to the original sconce to light it, she ran into a problem. She could not get the wide candle close enough to the flame, and now that the original candle was lit, she could no longer reach over the top of the iron cage to pull the candle back out.
Standing up on her toes, she stretched her arm as far as she could and tried to get the candle in her hand closer to the small flame protected by the iron sconce. Balancing on the balls of her feet, she shuffled just a touch closer to the edge of the stair.
The lower door in front of her opened with a clang, and her body tensed in surprise.
Losing her footing, she fell forward. Before she could tumble completely to the ground, her face slammed against a broad chest, and she felt two firm hands catch her waist. In a moment, she was back in balance with her feet on the ground—back in balance, but uncomfortably close to a definitively male person. In the dim light, her eyes registered a purple jerkin right in front of her face, and she followed the row of buttons up to see a clean-shaven jaw and a familiar pair of smiling eyes.
Those smiling eyes lit up as he recognized her, and his face spread into a happy grin, which she knew mirrored her own.
“It’s you,” he said.
“And you are?” she asked, determined to get his name this time.
“He is Prince Onric of Iseldis,” a voice spoke from behind him, and she looked around his arm, which was still holding her waist, to see his brother.
She jumped backward, her ankles hitting the step behind her. But she caught herself in time and backed up a few steps to put distance between them as horror and embarrassment covered her face.
“And I am Ian,” his brother continued.
“The crown prince,” she stammered. “And... Prince Onric.” She bowed in an awkward curtsy as the awful truth washed over her. “You... you slept in my barn.” She wanted to run away and be sick. “Why did you not say something?”
The smile had left Onric’s face. He rubbed his neck, blushing.
Ian stepped around him, elegantly reaching for her hand and bowing low over it, which only added to her embarrassment. “My dear, you were quite gracious. Do not trouble yourself about it. We are forever in your debt.”
“My Lord... Your Highness...” She awkwardly dipped her head again as she pulled her hand away from his. Thankfully, he stepped away and lightly continued up the staircase, disappearing through the doorway at the top. Unfortunately for her, his brother did not follow suit.
Ashlin turned back towards Onric, looking anywhere but at his face.
“You slept in my barn,” she repeated, trying to take in the reality of that statement. Would there be repercussions for not properly offering their best accommodations to members of the royal family? “I criticized your brother’s policy!”
“I’m sorry for not telling you who we were,” the prince stammered, “but we had no wish to trouble you any further than we already had.”
She finally looked up at his face, hoping that the dim light of the candle would not show how red her cheeks surely were. How could she ever live with herself knowing that the crown prince and his brother had slept in her barn?
He must have seen the terror in her eyes, as he tried to reassure her again. “Please, do not be distressed. You did nothing wrong.” He moved towards her, looking down at her. “But who are you? And what are you doing here? I’ve not seen you at the castle before.”
“I asked the steward for work.” She dropped her eyes, hiding her face in shame. If her cheeks were warm before, they were probably hot enough to ignite the rest of the torches in the castle at this point. She reached up to both cover and cool them with the back of her hand, ignoring the first part of his question. Her stepmother would be devastated if the prince himself found out that they were destitute.
