Page 12 of The Promised Prince
Renna opened the door to her room and peered out. She looked down the hall to the master bedroom where her mother slept. The door was closed.
Thank you,she whispered to herself.
Seran’s door was cracked open, but if Renna was quiet, she might make it past undetected. She crept down the hallway, each step deliberate until she reached the top of the stairs. She took each stair slowly, knowing exactly how to dodge the creaks in the old wood. Reaching the bottom of the stairs safely, she quickly glanced into the front room where Seran’s friends were sprawled out, still sleeping. That wasn’t a surprise. They’d sleep all day if they could.
Renna headed to a closet nearby, quietly opening the door. She pulled out a satchel and a blanket and stuffed it in the bag. Next, she went to the kitchen for bread, granola, and cheese. If she had her way, she would stay at the pond until the caravan was leaving. Packed with provisions, she sidled over to the back door and pushed it open. The cool morning air filled her lungs with happiness. Eyes closed, she sucked in as if it was her first time ever breathing fresh air.
Everything felt different at Wellenbreck. It felt better.
Male voices startled her. She pressed her back against the stone wall and tiptoed to the corner of the house to get a better look at who was there.
Guards.
There were always guards in her way. The four men were supposed to be on patrol outside the house. Instead, they stood chatting in a semi-circle.
The last thing Renna wanted was to be funneled back inside by one of her mother’s co-conspirators, but these men weren’t expecting Renna. She was confident she could slip out unnoticed.
Renna waited until the guards’ heads were turned, then she scurried to the long rows of corn stalks fifteen feet away. Without thinking, she dove to her knees as if her escape was a matter of life or death. She swung her shoulder bag onto her back and started crawling, immediately feeling the damp mud between her fingers and seeping through the bottom of her dress.
Ugh! Why didn’t I just bend down?
She was a mess, but she convinced herself that it would be fine. She could wash up at the pond and then have breakfast at her father’s grave.
Halfway through the row of corn, Renna decided it was safe to stand. She sighed when she saw the mess she had made out of her dress. She lifted up the bottom of the skirt, picking at the mud as she walked, trying to flick it to the ground. She took a stick and worked at the dirt on the bottom of her shoes. She was so engrossed in cleaning the mud off her clothes that she hardly registered the rest of her walk to the pond.
As she approached the clearing, splashing sounds triggered the abrupt stop of her feet. Her head jerked up, but she couldn’t see anything between the trees. Renna listened again. More splashing sounds. Her heart raced as the noises confirmed someone was swimming in her pond.
The soldier from yesterday flashed through her mind.
Could it be him?
It seemed unreal, but as she peered around the last tree, a head of dark curls appeared in the water.It was him.
And with very little clothes on.
He had left his weapons and shoes on a rock near the edge of the dock, but this time he’d also removed his shirt and pants, which meant he was swimming in nothing but his undershorts. His muscular arms pierced through the water and then out again with each stroke.
Courage swelled in Renna’s chest, tempting her to continue the game they had started yesterday. Her lips crept into a devilish smile as a plan came to mind.
His clothes were only a few feet away on the rock.
Renna waited until he dove under the water again. Then, without hesitating, she made a dash for the pile. As she scrambled forward, she wondered how much a person could hear underwater. She used one hand to steady her bag against her hip so he wouldn’t hear it jostling. He was more likely to hear her beating heart. It pounded loudly between her own ears. Reaching his clothes, she scooped them up against her chest and scurried back toward the tree.
She might have been caught, but luckily his eyes were closed when he came up for air. Brushing away the water threatening his eyes, he pushed his hands to his face and up through his hair. It gave her just enough time to reach the tree and hide safely behind it.
She looked down at the pile of clothes in her arms: black pants, a white shirt, and a black button-up jacket. She noted that they were surprisingly clean for a soldier, and she resisted the urge to smell them.
That would be weird.
Then she reminded herself that she had just stolen a stranger’s clothing. Everything about this situation was weird.
So she smelled them.
The aroma of lemongrass-scented soap filled her nostrils.
He’s a frilly soldier.
Sloshing sounds in the water startled her. Renna peeked around the edge of her hiding place to see him nearing the water’s edge. She willed her breath to be quiet, guessing that he was probably looking for the heap of clothing he had left by the water. He muttered something she couldn’t understand under his breath, but she clearly heard the string of profanities that came next. For a moment, she panicked.
