He chuckled. “Cursing and punching one minute, regal the next. You are a walking contradiction.”
Ignoring him, she opened the bag and rummaged around inside, taking inventory of the herbs and bandages. Her knuckles were sore even though she hadn’t hit him that hard.
“I can take care of myself,” Jarvik said. “You don’t need to help me.”
“Stop being a pansy.”
He rolled his eyes but made no attempt to stop her as she carefully ripped the seam of his pants, exposing his injured thigh. An incredible amount of blood coated his leg.
“Use the medicine in the larger tin,” the assassin instructed.
Allyssa found the container and pulled it out.
Jarvik slid his hand toward her knee, tapping it twice and startling her. He mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
The assassin couldn’t know how she truly felt about the squire-turned-prince. She quickly focused on his wound, not acknowledging him.
She expected to see a large gash with part of his bone or muscle exposed. However, the wound appeared to be superficial. She twisted around to question the assassin.
“My sword was laced with a paralyzing substance,” he said, watching her closely. She was right to keep her thoughts and feelings hidden from him. “It wears off after ten hours or so.”
Relief filled her, but she refused to let it slip through her mask of indifference. Turning back to Jarvik, she said, “All your complaining about dying is a bunch of rubbish. You’re going to be just fine.” It had been close to ten hours since the assassin captured them. Jarvik should regain feeling soon.
“I’m sorry,” he mouthed again.
“You’re a typical entitled prince with a flair for the dramatic,” she said loud enough for the assassin to hear. “I should have seen through your lies.”
“You would know.” His eyes flashed with an emotion she couldn’t discern, making her want to strangle and kiss him at the same time.
She opened the tin and scooped out a handful of salve, applying it to Jarvik’s wound. The substance had a pungent smell, which indicated it had some sort of antiseptic to it. When done, she closed the tin, shoved it in the bag, and tossed it back to the assassin. With her chin held high, she got up and sat on the other side of the fire, studiously ignoring Jarvik. Since her captor knew all he had to do was threaten those she loved to ensure her cooperation, she would not show any feeling toward the prince at all.
Prince. She couldn’t comprehend the fact that Jarvik was Prince Odar. On one hand, she was thrilled the prince hadn’t died and the alliance could still be preserved. However, the man she’d fallen in love with didn’t exist—he had only been playing a part. The entire time, she’d thought he was only a quick-witted squire with excellent fighting skills when he was really the prince of Fren. When she’d lied to Grevik about who she was, it was so she could be free from the confines of her title and be a true friend. It wasn’t with the intention to deceive. What reason could Jarvik possibly have for lying to her this entire time? Why didn’t he tell her the truth? A little voice reminded her that he’d tried to tell her something numerous times. He had even said, I’m afraid you’re locked in this cage of deceit with me. When you break free, you’re going to hate me. Bloody hell. Why hadn’t she seen it before?
“How can you be certain?” she asked the assassin.
“Of what?”
“That this man is really Prince Odar and not the squire I believed him to be. I’m not easily fooled.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“The same way I know that you’re Princess Allyssa and not Lilly. I’m not easily fooled.” His black, shoulder-length hair fell forward, concealing his dark eyes and accentuating his angular features.
“I’ve seen you before,” Jarvik suddenly interrupted, pushing himself to a sitting position. “At Fren’s court. You came with Princess Shelene.” His eyes narrowed as he studied the assassin.
“Ah,” the assassin purred, “you’re not as aloof as I’d hoped you’d be.” He adjusted the skewered rabbits over the fire, not offering anything further about his identity.
What had a man with his particular skillset been doing visiting Fren’s court with a princess? Allyssa was about to question him when her stomach grumbled from hunger. The assassin opened one of his bags and flung a roll of bread to her. She caught it.
“Eat up,” he commanded. “Can’t have you starving to death on me.”
At least she wouldn’t have to worry about him killing her while she slept. Tearing off a piece of the bread, she devoured it. Allyssa prayed Marek had managed to reach a town and have his injuries tended to. It was only a matter of time before he gathered a group of Emperion soldiers and started tracking her. She just had to hang on until he found her.
Jarvik sat on the other side of the fire, wiggling his foot while rubbing his thigh. Feeling must be returning to his leg. He glanced up at her, a fierce determination in his eyes. Her own features must have mirrored his—because there was no way she would let Russek use her as a bargaining piece against her parents in order to conquer Emperion. If Marek didn’t rescue her, she would find a way to outsmart and escape the assassin.
As to what she would do about Jarvik, well, that was another matter entirely.
***
Something startled Allyssa, and she woke up. A large hand slid over her mouth. She was about to punch her attacker when Jarvik whispered in her ear. “Stay absolutely still. Just listen to what I have to say and don’t respond—no matter how much you might want to.”
The fire in the cave had died out completely, and blackness surrounded them. She wondered how Jarvik had gotten over to where she lay without rousing their captor.
His hand slid under hers. “Tap a finger against my hand once for yes, twice for no. Understand?” She tapped his hand once. “Very good. Are you hurt?” he asked, his lips brushing her ear while he spoke.
She tapped twice. His body lay against the right side of hers, making her want to turn and hug him, but any movement might wake the assassin.
“I’m much better now that the poison has worn off. However, I don’t think it wise to escape just yet. We need to kill the assassin. In order to do so, I’d like to watch him for a couple of days to learn his body movements and search for his weaknesses. Is that all right with you?”
She hesitated. He wanted to kill the assassin? She didn’t see why they couldn’t hit him on the head and drag him back to the castle for his punishment instead.
“We have no choice,” Jarvik whispered. “He’s too dangerous to leave alive.”
Allyssa understood that people died in war. And this man had killed Grevik. He deserved to be punished for that crime. Yet, she was torn about the idea of murdering him. She tapped Jarvik’s hand twice.
“You don’t want to kill him?” Surprise rolled off his words.
She wanted to explain, but he’d told her not to speak. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to—it was that she didn’t think it was right to. There was a difference.