Prince Chasan tsked. His fingers curled at the edges of the binding wrapping my chest, getting a good grip on the fabric. I shuddered at the scrape of his blunt-tipped nails in the valley between my mashed breasts. The steel tip of a knife pricked my skin. I ceased to breathe, not daring to lift my chest even a scant inch for fear that the blade would pierce me.
“What do we have here?” he asked. The binding dipped with the slightest pressure beneath the prince’s knife. “Now why would a boy be wearing something like this? Are you trying to hide something?”
He tugged on the tight fabric concealing my breasts, pressing the knife deeper against the edge of the fabric. I gave a small yelp as some of the threads popped loose. The binding was on the verge of giving way.
“Stop! Let her go!” Fowler spat, lunging toward us.
“There you go! Was honesty so very difficult? She’s a girl . . . and you’re the prince of Relhok. Isn’t it better now without any lies between us?” Prince Chasan’s fingers slipped from my chest binding, leaving it intact. He still kept one hand lightly on my shoulder, though, not completely letting me go.
Fowler staggered to his feet. I felt his presence in front of us. Heat and fury radiated off him. “Touch her, and I will kill you.”
I trembled at the hard bite of resolve in his voice. I didn’t doubt him, and that didn’t bode well. We were in Lagonia. The entire country—or at least what was left of it—would come after us if he so much as ruffled one hair on the prince’s head.
Swords hissed on air and I knew they were drawing on Fowler. His threat would not go unanswered. They couldn’t ignore it. They didn’t care if Fowler was the prince of Relhok or not. They were in Lagonia and these were Lagonians.
“Easy,” Prince Chasan chided, but I wasn’t certain if he was talking to Fowler or his men. His men, I supposed. I heard them lower their swords, and some of the tension ebbed away.
I sidled away from the prince. This time he didn’t stop me. My heart hammered a wild beat in my chest as I took my place at Fowler’s side. I inhaled, smelling the sourness of his feverish skin. He wasn’t doing well. He’d used up whatever strength he had. I didn’t know how he was still standing and talking and fighting, but I didn’t think he could for much longer.
“I understand,” the prince said. “She’s yours. And you have to protect what’s yours. I would do the same.”
I didn’t bother correcting him and telling him that I didn’t belong to anyone. I shivered anew, sensing his scrutiny on me. I tugged the flaps of my shredded shirt back together as best I could, grasping what modesty available, however flimsy.
“Smart of you to disguise her,” Prince Chasan continued. “It couldn’t have been easy for you traveling through Relhok. Not with the bounty on young females. A shame, that. Not sure what your father could be thinking to come up with such a decree. Such a travesty . . . the murder of so many girls.” He clucked his tongue.
Fowler suddenly buckled beside me. I made a grab for him, slipping an arm around his waist. “Are we going to stand here all day, then?” I snapped.
Fowler choked out my name near my ear. “Luna . . . “
I ignored the warning in his voice. His weight sank deeper against me, and I had to wrap both arms around him to keep him from falling. He was still much heavier than I was, and I staggered under the bulk of his body.
“I would like to get him to the physician that was promised to us.” Exerted pants punctuated my words. “Unless that has changed and you want to stand idly by as the prince of Relhok dies?”
I arched an eyebrow and pulled back my shoulders, awaiting their verdict and trying to feel as though I wasn’t begging. As though I weren’t completely at their mercy.
“Breslen promised. And a promise is a promise.” The prince snapped his fingers and soldiers moved forward, quickly relieving Fowler’s weight from my arms.
“Your Highness?” that older, scratchy-rough voice asked. “What of our hunt? Shall we continue on and let the others take them back to the city?”
“No, we shall escort them ourselves. We can catch dwellers another time.”
Catch dwellers? Before I had time to inquire what he meant by that, the prince himself was pulling me along toward one of the horses. “Come along. Luna, was it? You can ride with me.”
I looked over my shoulder as though I could see Fowler. “What about—”
“He’ll be fine,” he assured me.
“Fowler?” I called out as I was hauled up in the saddle in front of the prince.
“He’s lost consciousness.”
The explanation left me feeling hollow inside. I was truly alone with this arrogant prince who cut my tunic away as if it were a small matter and not anything that might shame or terrify me.
He turned his mount around and we traveled for several minutes in silence. The terrain grew craggy and it was a rough ride. I tried to sit as high in the saddle as possible but the jarring motion forced me back against him.