I have no value here, other than the clean up of witnesses. Erasing my life, they stole me from house and home, just like that—one stupid serving girl had that little worth. In fact, none of the other men looked after me or were in the least concerned about my life or comfort. I am nothing, just a problem to be discarded—except in that moment when I confronted their prince.
Standing there, white with fury, I had their attention now. “I did not attack you. In fact, you have kidnapped me and cost a little girl her life,” I charged them all with the truth. Honesty—my only weapon.
“You must let me go now or my little sister will suffer the consequences. In your haste to take care of your wounds and your secrets, you left a seven year-old child in the hands of a monster.”
Every man had the decency to look appalled, even their leader.
“I see,” he said, his voice filled with regret. Only his words held a hint of concern. The rest of him, his attitude, his body language… well, it was obvious he did not see. The sister of a servant girl was… unimportant.
Solemnly, the prince swore, “I will get you back to her as soon as I can. We-” He paused, as if either girl really mattered. As if Corinne had any value at all to men like these.
Then, his brown eyes narrowed as inspiration struck. The prince cleared his throat before he continued, “We have to press on. And you, you will come with us.” With an imperious glance, he really looked at me, examining my body from my flaming red hair, down to my glaring, green eyes. His gaze lingered on my neck and shoulders and didn't go any lower.
I watched him, fist clenched, ready to fight.
Looking up at my face, he nodded slowly. “Marcus,” he called out to one of the guards, “We do need a damsel-in-distress for this plan to work, right? And this way, you don't have to wear the dress.”
“Sounds good, milord Benjamin,” a man called out.
All around me, the men howled with laughter. Marcus had to be the man whose face was merriest of all.
Careful, calculating, cool, the prince’s eyes stayed on me. He watched me, still as a hunting lion. I had never felt so uncertain. What was he looking at? Why is he doing that?
Suddenly, my anger vanished. As it disappeared, I realized that I stood alone surrounded by very strong men, the most powerful of which kept staring at my face. Abruptly, I felt a jarring panic.
Servants should never stand out.
“Stop that,” I snarled, my voice less angry than I intended. I didn’t understand the strangeness of his gaze. Only one thing assured the confused girl—he was not Groton. The prince didn’t leer.
All the same, I refused to look away. Let him stare.
“Milord, I will come with you of my own free will. But…” I added, “My sister’s life is in your hands, sir.” Every word I spoke was a demand. As if servant girls had the standing to make requirements.
He nodded again, and then closed his eyes, “I accept your charge. We will make it right.”
Powerless to change their minds about their mission, I turned away, walking back to the travel packs. Behind me, I heard the Prince say, “Marcus, I must rest. See to the girl’s needs for the evening. We ride for Stormage See tomorrow.”
A few moments later, a kingsman approached.
The same one who had set me free when they first stopped: sandy brown hair, dark eyes with a bit of blue around the edges. His chin was square, his face was chiseled from the side of a mountain, all angles and crags. Not old, but older than me, a bit of wrinkles around the eyes, a sorrow he carried with him made Marcus seem like a man of seventy years instead of his early thirties. There was something about him though—whispers of light and mystery that Brie couldn’t quite grasp.
“Here,” the prince’s man said politely, offering his own blanket to my shaking shoulders.
I hesitated to accept such a gift. The quality of the carded wool was unmistakable. I had spent the last five years working in an inn—there was no doubt the material was worth six months’ wages.
“What’s your name, if I may inquire?” He asked, using manners to keep clear the social boundaries. He was a kingsman. I was nothing.
He offered the fabric again, insisting. I see—he won’t let me refuse. Maybe there is some good in these scoundrels? Still,the secrets that man carried weigh him down.
I carefully accepted the beautiful blanket. It felt like wisps of clouds in my hands.
I didn’t look up at him when I finally replied, “Briarthorns of the Rose Berwyn, sir.”
He paused.
I had done something unexpected. I’m not sure what it means. Did accepting his blanket signify something far more? I felt small, lost in the middle of a vast and strange, forested land.
“Marcus, you may call me Marcus Dewbern.” He said his name like an afterthought. I did not meet his gaze. Like all other men, Marcus made no sense.
Wandering off, Marcus returned with some dried fruits, a bit of jerked meat mixed with berries, and a roll that I instantly recognized. I made that this morning. Corinne had slept in the corner nearest the fire, while I worked the dough.
“I’m sorry about your sister,” Marcus said softly. “Prince Benjamin, we didn’t know…” his words trailed off, like the hope in my heart.
No one had ever apologized to me. Never.
In the rising moonlight, we stood there, awkwardly near each other.
Between us, there was a trembling of something undefinable, like a melody in the air. That sensation grew louder, the closer he stood.
I shook my head, confused by the man and the even stranger music.
Wrapping the woven cloud around my shoulders, the warmth that surrounded me was the closest I had come to my mother’s embrace in five long years.
Closing my eyes, the adrenaline wore off, fading like shadows under the light of dawn.
***
With the rising sun, the whole camp was in motion. I watched from under the warmth of the blanket until Marcus looked my way. “Time to go, milady,” he called across the clearing. All the men laughed.
I did not.
“Do not mock me, sir. I am no lady. It’s cruel of you to act like I am.”
Marcus looked at me, eyebrow raised.
“No, indeed,” he said with a hint of regret, “I suppose not.”
I fumed at the ridicule.
Ignoring us both, the prince grabbed his reins, threw them over the pommel, and mounted his prancing horse. “Let’s get on with this, then.”
The mission. That was his focus. Their prince did not care about me. No one ever had. Not my father, not Groton… why would these scoundrels be any different?
It’s not that men are pigs. It’s that no one sees me, no one at all.
To a bunch of soldiers on a mission? I was a burden—sooner abandoned, the better.
I stood, folding the blanket in three swift movements, and walked towards the horses. At the front of the hunting party, the prince kneed his stallion forward, oblivious. I didn’t move fast enough to avoid the startled animal.
I stifled a scream and tried to move. Fear paralyzed my muscles.
I had seen three people ran over by horses. My stomach curled.
My eyes grew huge.
Shock locked me in place.
Shod hooves cut like knives. A war horse was a threat even without armor. And this beast was in motion, ready to kill. No mere slip of a girl could stand in its way.
Right before the charging horse hit me head-on, a firm hand pulled me sharply to the side. Twirling me once, I spun into unfamiliar arms.
Marcus.
He held me, close enough that our faces almost touched.
My mouth fell open in shock. And all the strange, swirling melodies I had felt last night came charging back, as real and as sharp as the enormous horse and rider who did not pause as they came within a moth’s wing of my head. My hair blew with the wind of the stallion’s passing. I felt the heat of the animal’s breath as it plunged through the spot where I had just been standing.
I saw none of that. My eyes stayed on him.
Marcus.
Fierce. Kindness. Concern. The real thing, too. Honesty I could feel right down to my toes. It was unmistakable; the courage to protect the weak, no matter the price.
Memories stirred in my heart. For that one moment, I stood frozen in time, lost in his arms. A bolt of lightning would have charred me less. I had the overwhelming feeling that belonged to my forgotten childhood long ago. Before… Mother had held me, exactly like that.