Page 47 of The Stolen Princess
“I already have a name for him,” she muttered.
“What is it?”
“You don’t get to know. I don’t tell my kidnapper personal things.”
Drake laughed in a deep, rich way that simultaneously grated on her and made her feel light.
She sucked in, choosing to focus on her annoyance. “If you’re all soldiers, why aren’t we riding on personal transporters?” Myka asked, changing the subject.
“I didn’t say we were soldiers. YOU did.” Drake’s voice was full of amusement. “Besides, PTs would draw too much attention, don’t you think? Since only soldiers are allowed to have them.”
Attention. That’s exactly what Myka needed. She needed someone to notice them and help her, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.
After about an hour, the horse slowed its pace. Myka’s body tilted forward in the seat, and she could feel Drake’s body against her back like they were going down a steep hill. She tried to lean forward so that she couldn’t feel his solid chest against her, but she didn’t want to topple over the front of the horse. That would be embarrassing. The horse would probably trample her, and then depending on how steep the hill was, she’d roll down it uncontrollably to the bottom.
It wasn’t worth it.
She would have to suffer through his solid chest pressed up against her.
How unbearable.
Myka felt the ground even out below them, and she heard voices off in the distance. Drake removed the blindfold, but the sunlight blinded her as she waited for her eyes to adjust. When she could finally see again, she scanned the area in front of her. Brown log homes with smoke billowing out of the chimneys were scrunched together, creating a small village. Farmland stretched behind the houses as far as Myka could see.
“Is this where we’re staying?” she asked Drake.
“No, this is just a quick stop.”
“Won’t we draw too much attention to ourselves here?” she asked in her sassy voice.
“This village is helping us.”
Her brows furrowed. “Why would Tolsten villagers help you fight against their own king?”
“The village used to have a large metalsmith factory that most of the villagers worked in. That’s where your father got the metal to make his weapons.”
Here we go again. More lies about the weapons.
Myka rolled her eyes, but Drake couldn’t see the action since she was sitting in front of him.
“After a few years, some of the villagers figured out what the king was making. They saw some of the missiles when they dropped off the metal at Tolsten House. After that, they refused to keep supplying metal for him. Then a few guards from the Tolsten army showed up with some bombs that they could shoot out of a barrel gun; at least, that’s how they explained it. Within a matter of minutes, they watched their entire village go up in flames. More than sixty people died that day. Adler told them if they ever mentioned anything about the bombing, he would find the rest of them and kill them. The survivors went in search of a new home. That’s how they ended up in such a remote area.”
Her father would never be so cruel. It had to be a lie.
She lifted her chin. “How did you find out about this village?”
“Albion has been sending spies to Tolsten for the last couple of years. Last year, two of our spies came upon this village. They gained their trust, and eventually, one of the men told our spies what had happened.”
“Why now?” she asked. “Why are the villagers helping now?”
“They’re tired of living in fear,” he said.
That, or they want money or whatever else the Council operatives had offered them.
Myka bristled. She didn’t want to talk about the village anymore. These people were clearly traitors.
As their horses got closer, the shouts became louder as people came out of their houses and farms to greet them. The group clapped and cheered, congratulating the men on what? Kidnapping her?
Yes, job well done. Let’s congratulate the kidnappers.
