Page 183 of A Bond in Blood

Silence once more.

A tear ran down my face and I turned my body away from him, wrapping myself in the comforters.

Eleven months. I was so close to the end of this all. Freedom from this torture.

His body lifted from the bed and the sound of the bedroom door closing rang across the room. Leaving me alone.

But I did not care. Instead, I welcomed my sleep. Grateful for a night without him beside me.

“Your highness?”

My eyes opened and I looked up to find Frode standing beside the bed. I jolted upward, holding the comforter to my chest.

He sat upon the stool from the bathing room and gave me an odd smile.

“I apologize for disrupting your sleep.” His eyes went distant for a moment. “His grace said I would be better to provide you with this update.”

My stomach sank.

“What, Frode?”

The healer grasped my hand, pulling it from the blanket.

“Hilde.”

I stood, pulling my hand away from him. “What about my grandmother?” I sobbed.

“She is ill, your highness.”

My feet were out of the bedroom door before Frode could finish whatever he had been instructed to tell me.

I passed atrollcleaning the wall.

“Where is he?” I shouted.

The creature dropped its water bucket and pointed down the hall with trembling fingers.

“Courtyard, princess,” it croaked.

I ran down the hall, sure my auburn hair was like a fire blazing from my head. As I passed people of Ulrich’s court, waking for the day, I was met with amused grins.

I was the princess in her nightgown, running through a palace. Ulrich’s whore running to find her master.

Likely a sight they would gossip about for years to come.

I ran down the stairs, my feet moving faster than they had thrown me before. My hands slammed the towering palace doors open, and my feet hit the gravel.

Across the courtyard, too far away was Ulrich, stepping into a carriage I had never seen with only his shadows at the front acting as his stallions or mares to pull him away. I stared at him, unsure of where he was going, why he was leaving.

“Ulrich!” I screamed. “Ulrich!”

I moved across the gravel, desperate to reach him. A rock sliced into my foot, and I cried out, but did not stop running. My blood made it more difficult and painful to move across the uneven surface, but I had to get to him.

“Ulrich!” I cried, watching while he pulled the carriage door closed.

“Ulrich!” My scream ripped from my throat.

These emotions, this fear—I was sure it would infiltrate my lungs and drown me where I was.

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