Page 6 of Twin Crowns

A horse?

Panic pulsed through Rose’s body in time with the horse’s hoofbeats.

She stiffened as something else became suddenly and alarmingly clear.

She was not alone.

She was propped against a firm chest that rose and fell with a gentle rhythm. An arm was loosely wrapped around her waist, holding her in place. It took every ounce of her self-control not to react at once. She drew a steadying breath, trying to slow her racing heart.

Stay calm. If she lost control of her senses now, she was done for. She subtly flexed her fingers. Good, her hands were unbound. She glanced down at her lap. No rope there either. Her captor had clearly underestimated her. Well, they were in for a surprise. Her eyes darted, her mind whirring frantically. The horse was galloping swiftly, but the sand would be soft, and she possessed the element of surprise. Best strike now, before the fear spreading inside her took over.

Find your courage. Wield it as a weapon.

With a bellowing cry, Rose shoved her elbow down hard and leaped off the horse.

It was only when her feet hit the sand that she realized she hadn’tplanned any further than the emergency dismount. Also—and crucially—she had not been expecting the desert sand to be so blisteringlyhot. Or that she would bebarefoot. And in hernightgown.

“Burning stars!” she cursed, hopping from foot to foot.

“That was surprisingly impressive,” came a voice from above her.

Rose whirled to face her abductor. He made a striking figure, dressed all in black and sitting atop that magnificent horse. His face was haloed by the rising sun, and although she couldn’t make out his features, she could plainly tell he was some sort of bandit.

Stay calm, she reminded herself, even as her heartbeat thundered in her ears. In the past, whenever Rose had let herself imagine the possibility of her own kidnapping, she was always dressed in one of her most ravishing gowns. Not her second-favorite nightgown and someone else’s cloak, which was coarse and positively reeking.And she had never pictured there beingquiteso much sand.

Even so, she had to seize control of the situation and fast. She was the princess, protected by the Great and Noble Protector. No harm would come to her. Rose told herself that as she rolled her shoulders back, fear still hammering in her chest. “I don’t know who you are, but I demand you take me back to my palace this instant.”

The bandit simply stared at her. The horse whinnied a bit. A bead of sweat dripped down Rose’s nose. She grimaced. Princesses werenotsupposed to sweat. But then, princesses didn’t often hop from foot to foot like this either, caught in some sort of embarrassing peasant dance.

“Right now! Take me back right now!” she said, flinching as she stamped her foot on the hot sand. “I command you!”

“Oh boy,” muttered the bandit. He dropped off the horse in onesmooth motion and took a step toward her.

“Stay back! Stay back, I tell you!” Rose picked up a handful of sand to throw at him.

The bandit sighed as he raked his hair back. Rose saw his face clearly for the first time. He had dark eyes and high cheekbones and a jaw that looked cut from stone. His skin was a golden tan, and his hair was black, the long strands gathered away from his face with a leather strap. Now that he was closer, she realized he was younger than she’d first thought. Close to her own age.

This gave her a rush of confidence. She could handle him.

She flung the handful of sand at him. “I’ll give you one last chance. Drop to your knees and show me the proper respect. Then give me your horse so I can return home. If you do that, I’ll do what I can to ensure a lighter punishment for you.”

The bandit continued to stare at her. The impudence! But she welcomed the wave of anger that coursed through her. Better to be angry than frightened. She would not allow herself to think of what she was going to do if he didn’t listen to her.

She cleared her throat. “And also... I’ll need you to point me in the right direction.”

The bandit had the audacity to laugh, which made Rose even more furious. She was Princess Rose Valhart, and in one moon’s time she would be crowned Queen of Eana. She wasnotsomeone to laugh at.

And yet, the bandit kept laughing.

She glared at him. “You must have a death wish.”

“Princess,”he said indulgently, “I’ll kneel if it will make you feel better. But you are not taking my horse. Storm is like me: desert born andwild.” His smirk revealed a dimple in his right cheek. “You wouldn’t be able to handle her.”

A flush that had nothing to do with the desert heat stole up Rose’s cheeks. “How dare you! You’ll find I am an excellent horsewoman.”

“Well, you certainly nailed that dismount.”

Rose contemplated flinging another fistful of sand at him but thought better of it. It didn’t seem to be having much effect. Which was a shame, as she had precisely zero other weapons. “I swear by the Great Protector, every minute you tarry, your punishment grows worse.” She tossed her hair, arcing her voice to hide the tremor in it. “And I demand to know who you are.”

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