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

I swallowed. “I think so.”

While we both watched, horrified and transfixed, someone strode around the corner toward us. It took only the briefest glimpse for my blood to run cold.

“Well, well, well,” said an all-too-familiar voice. “Isn’t this very neat. Here I was looking for you, and here you are.”

I moved to slam the door closed and paused, glancing over my shoulder. If I retreated into the room, he would follow, and then everyone would be in danger.

“You know, they really should have left more guards on the prisoners’ rooms,” he said conversationally as he strolled toward us.

“What do we do?” asked Celine. “Should we run for it?”

“Yes! Go—now!”

We tumbled over each other, rushing to get clear of the door and out into the empty space where we could run. I slammed the door behind us as we led Marcus away from the rest of the untrained mansion inhabitants. They weren’t supposed to have been in any real danger, but apparently no one had counted on one of the prisoners escaping.

Marcus picked up his speed in response to our flight, racing after us. I glanced back and realized he was closing much too fast for us to escape. Or for us both to escape anyway.

As we ran past an open door, I shoved Celine hard. She staggered sideways into the room beyond, and I slammed the door in her face. I took off running again, but I knew I’d lost valuable time.

Marcus didn’t even hesitate, letting his hate rule his head as I had hoped and going after the less valuable target. I pushed my legs harder than I ever had before, wishing I had longer legs or were in better shape. I didn’t have to outrun him, I just had to make it to some of our guards. Assuming we had any left…

I almost fell as I whipped around a corner and into the front foyer of the building, catching myself just in time. I had hoped to find the large room full of guards, but it was deserted.

Something hard, like the flat of a blade, whacked against one of my legs, and I lost balance and went sprawling. I tried to recover, pushing up onto all fours and attempting to crawl, but a sword point against the back of my neck made me freeze.

“As delightful as this all is,” said Marcus, “I’m not inclined to leave undone business this time.” The blade pressed deeper, nicking my skin. A warm trickle ran over my neck and dripped to the ground.

I closed my eyes, but death did not come. Instead the ring of blades sounded, and the pressure eased and disappeared. I crawled forward, slipping and sliding in my haste, before pushing up to my feet and spinning around.

Marcus and Frederic stood across from each other, blades held out, a martial light in both their eyes.

“It seems I am to have my opportunity to defeat you in combat after all,” said Frederic. His concerned gaze flicked to me for the tiniest instant, and Marcus seized the opportunity to lunge forward.

Frederic danced back, blocking his attack, and then pressing forward in response. Marcus easily evaded his blade.

“Don’t think I’ll be as easy a defeat as Julian,” he said with a taunting smile. “My cousin never did like to play dirty.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” said Frederic, his voice ice. I hung back as he went on the defensive, wishing there were some way to help him but aware in the lightning clash of blades that any attempt to intervene by me would only be in the way.

As the thrust and parry went back and forth, they ranged up and then back down the length of the large entryway. Marcus’s taunts dropped away as his breath came shorter and harder, his face intense with concentration. Frederic feinted and then lunged, coming up under the islander’s guard and cutting a shallow gash up his sword arm before Marcus could stumble back and thrust his blade away.

Marcus’s rhythm changed, his moves becoming sloppier and more desperate. He feinted, but Frederic saw it coming and twisted his sword up and out, sending Marcus’s blade flying.

He pressed forward, placing his sword tip at the other man’s neck. “I should run you through, as you meant to do to her.”

Marcus, his face livid, glared at the prince. The taut moment stretched between them, neither moving. After several long seconds had passed, Marcus gave an ugly smile. “But you won’t, Prince, will you?”

Frederic sighed. “No, I won’t. Because I don’t operate the way you do. You will receive due process under the law.” His sword lowered slightly.

Marcus’s eyes flickered off to the side, looking to my right. As I turned to follow his gaze, he lunged away from Frederic and leaped across the room, moving so quickly that his victim had no time to do anything but scream before he had her firmly in his grip.

Only Marcus had seen Celine enter through a side door.

He gripped her with both hands around her slim throat, a manic light in his eye. “You will not sit in judgment over me. I will release her when I’m safely away from this place.”

His eyes were glued on Frederic, but Celine’s were frantically signaling to me. With a start, I realized I was closer to the pair than Frederic, and I still held Celine’s dagger in my hand.

I didn’t stop to think it through, I just threw myself forward, sliding across the marble floor to plunge my short blade into his closest leg. He howled and stumbled, shaking Celine, as Frederic raced the last couple of steps forward and ran him through.

Slowly, almost gracefully, he crumpled and fell to the floor. Celine collapsed onto her knees beside him, both of her own hands now cradling her bruised neck. I sank down into a full sitting position, tremors running through me.

“Celine, are you all right?” Frederic knelt beside his sister.

“I’m sorry, what a terrible time for me to come in,” she croaked out. “Not exactly the heroic rescue I was planning.”

Frederic and I met gazes and both began to laugh. My body shook with it, the involuntary tremors subsiding, as tears leaked from my eyes. I could feel the hysterical quality to the sound, so I pulled myself back from the brink, mopping at my face.

“That sounds like our Celine.”

“And you, Evie?” Frederic crossed to me, cradling the back of my head with gentle fingers. “You’re bleeding.” When he pulled his hand away, it was smeared with red.

I shrugged. “A small cut only. It will heal well enough.”

Together we all staggered to our feet and moved away from Marcus’s body. I could still feel the sensation of plunging in the dagger, and the thought of it nearly sent me into hysterics again. I had thought I would have been better prepared after the confrontation in the desert, but this had been so much more personal.

“Where’s Cassian?” asked Celine, her voice little more than a whisper. “What happened to the guards who were supposed to be guarding us?”

“I was about to ask you that,” said Frederic grimly. “How did you end up out here?”

With a guilty glance, we told him our story.

“We couldn’t let him into that room,” I said. “Who knew how many he would have killed?”

Frederic sighed and rubbed a hand across his eyes. “He was a skilled swordsman and must have taken the guards by surprise. I suspect if you had run in the opposite direction, you would have found them all around that corner where you saw the fallen guard. Most likely he drew some of them away so that he could take them on in smaller numbers. I should have known better. I should have left more guards at the storage room where he was imprisoned. I knew it was never meant to be used as a cell and wasn’t as secure as I would have liked.”

I placed a hand on his arm, shaking my head. “You can’t blame yourself. You needed all the guards you could get to keep the attackers from scaling the walls. And you didn’t even know how many you would face.”