No. No, it wasn’t. “I appreciate your concern, Lord Errik, but I assure you, I can take care of myself.”
“As we all learned with your excellent demonstration today,” he agreed, stepping forward. “But your eyes can only see what is in front of you. Even the most skilled warrior has need of someone to guard his back.”
“I thank you for your concern, Lord Errik, but my back is just fine.” At least it always had been because her brother had guarded it as she had guarded his. Now . . . now, unless she could change the path he was on, she would be on her own.
“Please, if you’ll allow me.” He lowered his hands and stepped forward.
“Why?” she demanded. Lowering the stilettos to her side, Carys said, “A good Trade Master would be careful not to take sides until a new ruler is on Eden’s throne. And if you truly believe I’m trying to lose, you should be in the Hall of Virtues still, with my brother.”
“A good Trade Master understands that it is impossible to partner with kingdoms that are at war with other countries or themselves. And even if that wasn’t true, I believe in fair play. It is clear there are a great many people in this castle who don’t. The fact that you’re losing isn’t going to alter that. It might even make it worse.”
“Andreus was only doing what he thought he must tonight,” she insisted, working to convince Errik of what she had been trying so hard to make herself believe.
“The Prince did what he thought would get him what he wanted. He made his choice and you made yours.” Errik looked down at the stilettos in her hands and then back at her. His tanned skin looked richer and his features sharper in the flickering torchlight. He stepped forward until he was less than an arm’s length from her. “I’m an outsider, which means you have no reason to trust me to take your part. But as strong and determined as you are, I don’t believe you can do this on your own. I am offering to stand at your side.”
She stared into the intense darkness of his eyes and felt the pull of his offer. Offering her trust was offering Errik power over her. Power was dangerous. Look at what it had already done to her brother. But Errik was right in saying that she needed someone to watch her back.
Still, she asked, “And if I refuse your offer, my lord? What then?”
Errik smiled. “Then I hope I’m better at dodging those stilettos than the man earlier today, because I have made the decision to keep you safe—at least until I have the opportunity to teach you how to dance.”
The words, the look on his face, the nearness of his body made her heart pound harder and her stomach jump. And she didn’t have time for either.
“I have to go,” she said, stepping away so she could slide the stilettos into her pockets.
“Will you allow me to escort you back to your rooms,” Errik asked, “or shall I just hang in the shadows and allow you to pretend I’m not here?”
Yesterday, she would have said no. She would have commanded him away. Yesterday, her brother was on her side. Now Andreus was a different person and she needed to trust someone—before these trials and the people involved in them took him away from her forever.
“I’m not going to my rooms,” she admitted. “There is something I have to do in the stables first.”
Errik ran his eyes up and down her body and raised an eyebrow. “In those clothes? I’m going to have to teach you more than dancing, Highness. Have you ever heard of the word stealth?”
A half hour later, Carys had exchanged her shimmering blue gown and jewels for a dark gray servant’s dress that was a size too big and a matching gray cap under which Errik insisted she shove her distinctively colorless hair. Since there weren’t any pockets in this dress, Errik found a basket of dirty laundry for Carys to shove her stilettos into in order to carry them with her.
“Aren’t you going to change into servant’s attire, too?” she asked.
“Of course not.” He smiled. “My job is to be noticed. If there’s a demanding noble around no one has time to notice the servant scurrying through the halls before him.”
“I never scurry,” she said, heading into the hall with the basket balanced on her hip. The late hour meant there were fewer people in the castle corridors. She kept her head tilted down as she hurried to exit the castle. She needed to get to the stables before Larkin decided she wasn’t coming.
The chill of the night made Carys wish for a cloak as she crossed the castle’s courtyard, passed through the exit, and went down the narrow steps that led to the royal stables. They had been constructed on a wide ledge on the side of the plateau between the castle and Garden City with a slope that allowed the horses to easily get to the ground below. Lights on the castle walls glowed bright in the night. Carys could hear Errik’s voice echoing behind her as he boisterously spoke to everyone he passed.
By the time she reached the stables, the hands on duty knew there was a noble on his way and gave Carys barely more than a quick leer before she passed into the grand structure that smelled of hay and manure. Horses nickered. Hay crunched under her feet. The dim glow from wind-powered sconces lit her way as she headed toward the ladder that led to the hayloft where Carys, Andreus, and Larkin spent hours playing over a decade ago.
A stiletto clutched in one hand, Carys reached the loft. No wind-powered lights graced its walls, and Carys squinted into the shadows as she moved carefully deeper into the hayloft.
“Larkin?” she whispered, clutching the stiletto tight. Hay crackled in the corner and Carys turned in that direction. Nothing there. She whispered Larkin’s name again and jumped as something else rustled in the loft.
“Larkin?” Two stacks of hay moved and Larkin appeared. “Thank the Gods,” Carys whispered, hurrying forward toward her friend, who was wide-eyed and pale. “Are you okay?”
“I worried that your maid wouldn’t give you the message or that you wouldn’t understand where to come or that I wasn’t hidden well enough and someone might have seen me.” Fear colored Larkin’s voice and her eyes were bright with tears.
“What is it? You can tell me—whatever it is.”