The Princess Search: A Retelling of The Ugly Duckling (The Four Kingdoms #5)

“I can teach you myself, back in Lanare, if you really want to learn,” I said. “Or find you an apprenticeship in Largo if you would rather stay here. But it’s no easy ride. If you want to get good, you’d have to work hard.”

She looked up at me, her eyes alight. “I can work hard, if it’s for something I want.”

Mastiff scoffed. “What did Dancer just say about us working for no one? You just going to throw that all away for a pretty dress, Reya?” He said her name like an insult.

She glared at him. “You shut it, Mastiff. There ain’t nothing wrong with learning a proper craft if you can find someone’s willing to teach you. Didn’t Frostbite leave just a month ago? And he ain’t regretted it none. We can’t stay here forever, sure enough.”

Mastiff glared back but made no further comment.

I smiled at Reya, wondering what I had just taken on. “Well, you got some time to think on it. I’m here with the Royal Tour, I’m the official seamstress. We don’t leave for another two weeks, so come to the mansion in two weeks’ time if you want to leave with me.” I didn’t need to say which mansion.

“Official seamstress to the royals?” Her eyes grew wide.

“I always knew you was going to go far, Evie-girl,” said Lookout. “You was always too pretty not to.” He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes in reply.

“You said you was here to talk,” said Mastiff. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

“No one knows Largo like the street urchins,” I said.

“Ain’t that the truth,” crowed Whitey, slapping celebratory hands with Dancer.

“Well, I’m guessing then that you’ve seen there’s something off.” Their smiles fell away, the mood instantly turning grim. “There’s something rotten in Largo, and I want to dig it out and destroy it. But first I need your help to find it.”

The children exchanged glances, a complex language that I didn’t know them well enough to read. For a long moment I thought they weren’t going to tell me anything, and then Lookout shook his head and sighed.

“Things ain’t been right around here ever since the Shadow Man showed up. And things won’t be right until he’s gone.”

The others all nodded, except for Mastiff. But he neither scoffed nor protested, either, which I took as agreement.

“Shadow Man? Who’s the Shadow Man?”

Dancer looked at me and shivered. “That’s just what we urchins call him. Cause he’s always lurking in them.” Her expression transformed into one of indignation. “But that’s our territory. And we don’t like him bringing so many strangers into it.”

“So he’s not from Largo? He’s a foreigner?”

The children frowned at each other. Whitey scratched his head. “Now that’s ’arder to say,” he said. “He looks like one of ours.”

“Sounds like one, too,” said Dancer. “Only not from the streets, for all he likes to pretend.”

Lookout shrugged. “I already told you as how I don’t forget a face. He claims he grew up here and just went away for a while to learn to fight better, but I never saw ’im on the streets until real recent like. Just before that fool rebellion what happened up north last year.”

“I guess he saw his chance,” said Reya. Street urchins understood power and its workings as well as any noble—they had to in order to survive—they just operated in an entirely different power structure, that of the streets.

“He came in with weapons and men, and he took over the streets.” To my surprise, Mastiff joined the conversation. “We didn’t like it, then, but we don’t get involved with the full-sizers. Set themselves up in a warehouse and talked a lot about everyone getting their due.” He shrugged. “Sounds like nonsense talk to me, we each got what we make for ourselves. But some got real riled up by it.”

“Then that rebellion happened, and we began to hear real ugly talk,” said Whitey, his face pinched. “Talk about kings and thrones and the moment being ripe. That’s when we knew for sure. We ain’t seen no ruler of the streets who wants to be a real king before. Naw, he ain’t one of us.”

“A lot of new folks have come in since then.” Dancer looked worried. “And not folks like us. Hired fighters from up north. And nobles’ sons and merchants’ sons and the like to lead them.”

“But never oldest sons, you note that,” said Mastiff. “If you ask me, he’s gathering an army of folks who are dissatisfied with their lot in life. People who want to turn the tables on those who got more than they did.”

I rubbed my head. “But Lanover is the richest of all the kingdoms. No one lives in true want here, the crown makes sure of that. Don’t they care about that?”

Mastiff gave a harsh laugh. “Course they don’t. You mark my words, if they got into power, us poor folk would be the last to get any good things coming our way.” He shook his head. “But some folks’re never satisfied.”

I thought of Marcus. No wonder he had been pulled into the rebellion. I wouldn’t want to live in a kingdom ruled by people like him. But were there even enough dissatisfied people in Lanover that they could convince an army’s worth to risk their lives?

I considered their actions so far. Maybe not. Dancer had said they had brought northerners in. And it might explain why everything they had done so far was designed to sow chaos and dissatisfaction. They needed to upset the current balance to bring more people to their side. And then maybe, if they could strike a targeted enough blow…

I stood to my feet. “I need to return to the mansion. The royals need to hear about this.”

Whitey pulled on my hand. “But didn’chya say something ’bout hiding? When you first fell in here? Who you hiding from if not them royals?”

A shiver ran down my spine. I looked around at my small audience. “Have any of you seen a newcomer? He would have arrived within the last few months. Tall, dark hair—a disgraced islander noble.”

Dancer and Lookout exchanged glances.

“Marcus,” they said together.

Lookout turned to me. “Aye, we know ’im. Now he really ain’t one of us. Not that he knows it. Struts around the streets like he’s the king o’ Largo.”

“He’s a vicious one,” said Dancer. “All the urchins know to steer clear of him.”

“I used to know him, years ago.” I paused. “And I’m the reason he got banished from the islands. He has it out for me, and he got me cornered in Miller’s Alley.”

“Whew, now that’s what I call lucky,” said Reya. “Couldn’t have asked for a better spot.”

I nodded. “I just don’t want to get cornered again somewhere less fortunate.”

They all nodded and crossed their arms over their chests, fists tight, in the street urchin sign of solidarity.

“I’d better go with you, then,” said Lookout. “Back to the mansion. No one sneaks past me.”

“I’ll come, too,” said Reya, “you can show me where to meet you when it comes time for you to leave.”

“I’m not missing out on the fun,” said Whitey with a grin. “I ain’t strolled through the streets with a noble girl before.”

I considered reminding him I wasn’t a noble but decided it wouldn’t be worth the effort.

“S’pose I’d better come too,” said Dancer.

They all looked at Mastiff, but he said nothing, staring moodily at the far wall.

“Fine then,” said Lookout. “You keep an eye on the youngsters.”

And so I found myself with an escort of four as I wound my way back through the streets. Not that you would be able to tell it.

“Can’t have a bunch of street urchins trailing a girl dressed like a noble,” Dancer told me cheerfully. “That’ll attract the guard right quick.”

The children blended seamlessly into the street, some ahead of me, some behind. Only Reya, the cleanest of the lot, walked beside me, asking questions about Lanare and the life of a seamstress. I answered her almost at random, my gaze flitting around the street.

“Relax,” she said quietly after we’d crossed half the city. “The others will spot him if he’s here and give us a signal.”

“I’m sorry,” I forced myself to smile. “We have something of a history, and it’s a little hard not to be afraid…”