Page 4 of Forged in Cursed Flames (Crown and Crest 2)

But if Clover is truly guilty, and I protect her, my carefully planned world will fall apart. I’ll never earn my knighthood. I won’t be able to afford a dowry for Brielle.

And I will be a disgrace, fortunate to find a job as a blacksmith in any of the cities in Caldenbauer.

Entertaining the guilt and worry that’s been burrowing in my chest since we returned at Fort Lintanry, I leave the pond.

“Are you all right?” Pranmore asks with a concerned frown when I join the grooms in the courtyard as they prepare our horses for the short ride to the king’s city. He follows behind me, overly worried. “You look agitated.”

Brushing off his concern, I take my horse from the groom. “I’m fine.”

* * *

Cabaranth isin a state of pandemonium when we arrive at the city gates. The guard has been doubled, and everyone leaving the city is searched.

As we pass, a farmer loudly shares his opinion on the new policy as the king’s men go through his wagon. Ignoring him, the guards look in barrels and check for hidden compartments under the straw, making a larger mess than I believe is necessary.

The guards immediately turn toward Lawrence when they spot him, standing tall and bowing their heads.

“Your Highness,” one says as the prince passes.

Lawrence absently waves a hand to acknowledge the man, but he focuses on the chaos around us. A long line of carts and carriages has gathered as people wait to exit the city. They grumble and bicker, and the livestock that accompanies them shifts around as if agitated, perhaps wary of the great press of irritated people.

Clover, too, looks unsure. The young noblewoman is in a riding gown today. It’s deep purple, with a full skirt, and like all the woman’s dresses, it showcases her graceful figure, with dropped, fitted sleeves that reveal her shoulders and extend past her wrists in points.

There are jewels at her throat, and her long, honey-brown hair is curled and partially held up with a comb—the work of one of her aunt’s maids, no doubt.

If she’d dressed like that on our travels, she would have looked ridiculous, but not today. Today, she is breathtaking—and people watch her.

And why wouldn’t they? Clover is lovely, and she makes a striking vision atop her blue roan mare. Especially when she rides beside Lawrence in a place of prominence—one that’s hard to ignore.

Several people in the crowds bend their heads together as the pair passes, their eyes on the prince and the beautiful lady, speaking quietly.Why are they together? Where did Lady Clover disappear to? Did Lawrence rescue her?These are all questions I imagine them asking.

Does Lawrence have feelings for her? Will she become our next queen?

I push the thoughts out of my mind, refusing to dwell on bored villagers' petty gossip.

After leaving the madness around the gates, the crowds part for us, and we ride swiftly through the city. A proud part of me enjoys the respect I’m given in this group. A mere blacksmith’s son no longer, I travel with the crown prince.

But it’s an illusion. I’m still a simple soldier, not yet a knight. And if I make even a single misstep, I’ll never be a knight.

Again, I glance at Clover.

She catches me this time and presses her lips into a thin line as our eyes warily meet. I jerk my head away and then grit my teeth, irritated with myself for making it obvious I was looking at her—and hating the way she watches me as if I am a predator poised to attack.

Would Clover fear me and the letter I carry if she were not guilty? Is that why she looks like a spooked rabbit whenever she looks my way?

“Your Highness, you have returned,” Lord Helmond says to Lawrence when we arrive in the inner courtyard. His eyes slide to Bartholomew and Clover. “And I see your mission has been a success.”

Bartholomew greets the man, but Clover only smiles.

I know her well enough I can read the irritation growing under her noble facade. Though she knew she was perfectly safe, the noblemen of the court are going to coddle her now that she’s returned.

“Are you well, Lady Clover?” the man asks, obviously thinking Clover has been rescued from the clutches of the princess’s abductors. “Where did Lawrence find you? Was Princess Camellia with you as well?”

“I wasn’t with Camellia,” Clover says as she dismounts her horse. Before she can reach the ground, Lawrence meets her, offering his hand.

She takes it without a thought, as if she’s as comfortable around the prince as she led me to believe.

Instead of releasing Clover once she’s found her feet, Lawrence holds her hand lightly, raised just below shoulder-height as if he intends to escort her somewhere.

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