Page 69 of The Princess's Chosen

"Well, what's tonight's commotion then?" Lady Prudence asked, fairly cheerful as Daniel left her side to join us.

"Could it be…magic to lure Owen out?" Wendell asked, frowning.

I didn't know and I didn't really care, charging out into the storm, wincing at the immediate lash of cold wind and icy slush that struck my skin and soaked into my dress. Cresswell remained fixed to my side as I hurried down the steps, his hand finding mine, grip warm and as solid as an anchor. To the left and down the slope, the gate of the palace was closed, and I thought I could see guards sheltering there. And to the right…

It took a moment to see through the thick mess of rain.

"Smoke," Cresswell said. "Get back inside."

But he didn't let go when I ran forward with him, ignoring his command, hearing the shouts of the others at my back.

"What could be on fire in this downpour?" I shouted. But I already knew the answer.

The horses.The stables.

"Owen!" I screamed, feet slipping in the slush on the gravel briefly, Cresswell's hand like iron holding me up and steady.

"That smell," Cresswell said, bowing his head to me. "Oil, or accelerant. A lot of it too."

Which explained why the stables were burning in the middle of a vicious storm. The flames licking the structure of the building looked weak at first, lapping lightly up the walls, until we were close enough to see through the open doors. Inside was an inferno.

"Owen," I breathed, my heart feeling still and cold in my chest. "Owen!"

This time Cresswell held me back, arm wrapping around my waist, my feet tangling in the sodden hem of my dress, our clothes sticking together as ice ran down my collar and between my breasts.

"Look," Cresswell said, pointing to the ground in front of the stable.

A body, on the ground. I gagged and my knees crumpled, and Cresswell herded me closer. Smoke rushed off the surface of the stables, billowing up into the air and clinging to the branches of the trees overhead.

"The groomsman," Cresswell said.

There were men shouting, shadows moving around the edge of the building, and my eyes flicked to one I thought might've been Owen, frame large but graceful.

Cresswell and I reached the body and he knelt down, but it was clear by the dark stain on the stone around him and the wide stillness of his eyes that the older man was dead.

"Emory is here," I said, voice low. Cresswell didn't move, and I wasn't sure he'd even heard me. I looked up again and knew the perfect shape of the body standing at the mouth of the stables, broad shoulders and tapered waist, face staring in at the blaze.

"I've got to go in."

I yanked free of Cresswell's loosened grip, crying out Owen's name at the same time Cresswell shouted mine. Owen pulled the wet fabric of his shirt up over his nose and ran inside the stables as I chased after him, stalling at the sudden scorch of warmth that stole my breath as I got close.

I had magic, but I didn't know what it would do. Could it make the flames stronger, strong enough to beat back the rain and burn through Owen? Or could I smother the fire? It was too much of a risk.

An arm banded around my waist, and I thrashed until I realized it was only Cresswell catching up with me.

"What do we do?" I gasped.

"Stars above, Bryony, you stayoutside—" Cresswell snapped, voice furious and hard.

"But—"

"I'll drag Owen out, even if I have to knock him unconscious."

I sagged and stared up at Cresswell, the fire bright on his skin, catching in the glassy shade of his eyes, warming soft freckles over his forehead. I paused, but only for a moment which was less time than we really had, and nodded.

"You stay here, and you hold this," Cresswell said, passing a belt into my hand. A dagger belt, one with a heavier hilt and blade than my own. I nodded again, wincing away from a sudden burst of heat, reaching for Cresswell at the last second and failing to reach him, my fingers sliding through the water evaporating off of us both.

You've just watched two men you love run into a fire, and you haven't done a fucking thing about it, I thought, wanting to run after Cresswell too, feeling the call to follow pounding in my veins, making me sway with the beat of the rain on my back.

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