Page 2 of Stolen Crown (The Emerald Realm 4)

The king clenched his teeth. “Watch your tongue,” he hissed. “I should have you slain for your disrespect toward me and your brothers.”

“But you won’t,” the prince chided, a malicious smile curling his lips. “You need me for something; that’s why you called me here, isn’t it?” He crossed his arms, coaxing his father into humoring him.

“I could just as easily send Miron to complete the task,” the king growled, his fingers clawing into the throne, leaving more scratches against the polished stone. “However, I intend to see my trials through. This will be your only opportunity to prove yourself and rise above your brothers. Miron has already surpassed you, so I would advise you take this task seriously and attempt being obedient for once.”

“Anything for you, father-dearest.” The prince smiled slyly, earning a vicious scowl from his father. “What is it you request from me?” He gave a flourished bow, keeping his eyes level as he dipped down.

“I require an army,” the king said flatly. “Drancos will be seeking revenge for the murder of their king, and Isalla has already sided with them. Our military is powerful but lacking in volume. I require more recruits to take the frontlines. Your job will be to gather them for me.”

The prince chuckled while balling his hands into fists. “Is that really all?” He cast a dramatic look of offense at his father. “No assassinating kings or tormenting princesses…? You simply want me tocollecta few men to die on the battlefield? I must say, Father, I’m wounded. I thought you had higher expectations of me.”

“That is enough,” he roared, looming powerfully over his disgracious son. “You posses neither the stealth of Miron, nor the strength of Conan, therefore your task shall appeal to your infuriating wit and intellect. If you find this assignment beneath you, then you may abandon your claim to the throne. I don’t have the patience to argue with your impudent ego.”

The prince bowed more stiffly, still smiling impishly as he did so. “Apologies, Father. I shall accept your task.” He rose while the king let out a frustrated breath. “Where do you request I gather these recruits from? Surely you don’t want to put our own citizens on the frontlines.”

The king lowered back onto his throne, resuming his tapping fingers. “Our neighbors to the west may have a few hungry souls in need of work…” he alluded ominously.

“Very well, Father.” Prince Killian smiled before he turned, striding proudly for the exit. “I’ll send troops for Sybettal first thing in the morning.”

Sybettal

Twigs pricked against my back as I nestled deeper into the shrubs. I crouched low to the ground, keeping my eyes trained on the beaten road before me. My legs tingled stiffly from their awkward huddle, so I lightly stamped them against the dusty ground. The loose brush in front of me provided a decent amount of cover, but I was farther from the road than I would have liked to be. I wiggled my toes, keeping them awake and active. They needed to be ready to spring into action any moment now.

The hot sun beamed down on me, accumulating a few beads of sweat across my brow. I wiped the moisture away with my free hand, thankful that I had thought to tie my thick, red hair back before leaving. It took a few more minutes of waiting in the toasting bushes before the sweet sound of carriage wheels rang through my ears.

I tensed at the ready. One hand pulled my tattered hood over my head, while the other brought my sweat-stained mask over my nose. My hand lingered over the dagger on my hip, ensuring it was still there. Once my hand grazed across the comforting leather hilt, I crept forward slowly, inching closer to the edge of the road.

My adrenaline kicked up a notch as I watched the military-grade wagon roll up the road. The wagon had one coachman and two soldiers on the box, with two additional soldiers guarding the entrance on the back. The wagon had a steel frame and a thick canvas covering that made up the roof and walls, with the unmistakable crest of Ashbourne painted on the sides. With both the front and back heavily guarded, it was nearly impossible to breach.

Well, it would be for a normal person, at least.

I counted the seconds in my head as I watched the wagon pass my hiding spot. At precisely two and a quarter seconds later, I lay down on my side and pushed off into the road, rolling onto my back until I was directly under the wagon. Dust from the road bloomed around me as I opened my eyes and stared up at the steel undercarriage. While simultaneously blinking the dust from my eyes, I latched onto the wagon’s frame and let it carry me with it. I paused for a moment once I was firmly stowed away, listening for any signs that the soldiers had taken notice of me. When only silence ensued, I allowed a brief smirk to cross my lips.

Works every time…

The Ashbourne guards were constantly surveying the front and back of their wagons, but they lacked surveillance on the flanks. It wasn’t an easy task to board a wagon unseen in the middle of a drive, but it helped that I was so tiny. My short stature and petite frame made it nearly child’s play to move unseen. Measuring in at four feet, eight and a half inches tall, I was practically born for stealth. It was an excellent perk of being me.

Still latched onto the undercarriage, I maneuvered myself to the right side of the wagon. Once I reached where the canvas cover met the steel frame, I nestled into the wagon’s framework. Meticulously, I braced my back against a steel rod, allowing myself use of both hands. Once I was secure in my spot, I unsheathed my dagger and began sawing a vertical tear into the thick canvas. I had to lean out from the wagon in order to fully carve the tear, so I latched my left hand onto the outer frame to maintain my balance. Once the hole was completed, I sheathed my dagger back along my hip and dove my hand into the opening. I blindly felt around the tiny opening, looking for anything I could find.

Come on...come on…

I tapped my fingers around the wagon’s floor until my fingers brushed against a burlap sack.Yes!I gripped the sack and dragged it slowly over to the narrow opening. With tedious movements, I untied the bag’s cord and opened it. My eyes widened as I peeked through the canvas’s tear and saw the treasures the bag held. With new excitement coursing through me, I attempted to pull the entire bag out through my opening, but it was too narrow. I looked around, trying to gain my bearings on our location.We are almost at the compound. I don’t have time to make the hole bigger.Not wasting another moment, I began grabbing the bag’s contents and stuffing them inside my pockets and bodice. Sweat rolled down my face and blurred my eyes as the heat from the hood and mask engulfed my face.

After I had crammed as much loot as I could onto my person, I scurried back under the wagon’s frame. My muscles were beginning to burn from holding both my weight and the weight of my bounty, and the hot metal was making my hands sweat and grow slick. I readjusted my grip on the undercarriage. I couldn’t get off yet, not until we were near some brush that I could use as cover. Unfortunately, the hot and dry climate of Sybettal didn’t produce a lot of greenery, so the road ahead was entirely barren. My arms burned, and I readjusted my hold once more. Salty sweat dripped from my forehead and stung my eyes, causing my vision to blur again. I blinked back the sweat and dust that clouded my vision just in time to see a ragged bush approach on the right ride of the wagon.

It wasn’t ideal since it was extremely sparse and thin, but my trembling limbs couldn’t hold on for much longer, so it would have to do. As the bush drew closer, I kept my eyes trained on it, measuring out the timing of my escape in my mind.

Three, two, one…

I dropped. Rolling uncomfortably across the dry ground as the stashed goods in my dress pressed into me, I collided with the bush. Instantly, I tucked my limbs inside the small cover, holding my breath as the back of the wagon continued past me. My tired lungs burned for breath, but I held them back. Not even a squeak emitted from me until the wagon’s rattling wheels became nothing more than a soft echo. I inhaled a heavy breath, allowing my exhausted body to get its fill of oxygen. Once my breath had caught up with me, I pulled down my mask and hood to inspect my loot. Some of it was a little damaged from my roll, but overall, it was still an excellent haul. A proud smiled overtook my face.

Mother will be so pleased!

A new spring bounced in my short steps as I made my way back home. I had ridden a lot farther than I had wanted to, so the walk took much longer than I would have preferred. My entire body was covered in a film of sweat and dirt by the time our half-rotted cabin came into view. It was a humble home and by no means lavish, but it was everything we needed. Mother had built it herself with help from some of the local neighbors out of scavenged materials. Two of the walls were made of sturdy wood panels, while the other two were a mismatched collection of various stones, bricks, and a single cracked window. Every few years we had to patch a section as the materials shifted and rotted holes into the wall, but it was a bit like creating a sculpture that was never truly finished. A warm smile spread across my lips as I looked upon the place I called home.

It was difficult to live in Sybettal—the climate was harsh, the lands were infertile, and there was no governing system in place. Most citizens fled the kingdom after its downfall, but a few decided to stay and brave the land’s challenges. My mother and I struggled just as much as the next family, but I don’t think we could ever leave—it was our home. Mother used to work in the castle before the invasion. She would often tell me stories about how beautiful the land was, and how incredible the people were. Sybettal used to be a land filled with magic and exquisite culture, but now...it was merely a wasteland and dumping ground for banished criminals.

As I approached my shabby excuse for a home, I noticed Mother hanging a ratty blanket out in the sun to dry. Her warm, dark brown eyes fell on me the instant I approached the cabin. She always worried when I left for my robberies, though she never said it out loud, but the relieved expression on her face told me plenty about how she felt each time I returned home.

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