Page 17 of Blood and Fate

How long had she been out? Had they traveled far? Only a few minutes? She turned her head from side to side, trying to pick up on any other sounds, but there was nothing beyond the wagon.

Her chest began to tighten. She had never been one to panic, never one to shrink away from things that others found frightening, but she was chained to a chair, being taken to points unknown, and she could only imagine what would happen when she arrived.

The men who took her had called her Princess. They knew who she was. Would she be held for ransom? Tortured for secrets? She almost laughed at that. She knew next to nothing thanks to Henrik convincing her father that she needn’t concern herself with such things. So why did they want her?

The wagon wheels creaked to a stop and she looked up again, trying to hear anything that would tell her where they were. The wagon rocked from side to side as she assumed the two men who had taken her were climbing down from the driver’s seat.

“Who are you and what do you want?” a male voice barked. The unmistakable sound of blades sliding from sheaths accompanied the question.

Sweat prickled along her back, it was hot in the wagon, but this had nothing to do with temperature.

“We are not here to fight,” a voice answered from beside the wagon. One of the men that had taken her and attacked Henrik.

Henrik, was he still alive? Did she care? Not really.

“We want to speak to Kais.”

Kais. She sucked in a breath, her stomach bottoming out. Of course.

“How do you know I’m not Kais?” said another voice coming from farther away.

A low chuckle emerged from her captor’s throat. “We have heard of the man. We know what he looks like and he does not look like you.”

In the wagon, through the slat board walls and who knew how many yards between them, she felt him. The hairs on her arm stood straight up, and she felt the blanket of heat as it started from the crown of her head and made its way over her, all the way to her feet. It was such a strange sensation, like being under a warm waterfall of honey. The reaction her body had to his presence unnerved her, like she was no longer in control. Loss of control made her panic, and her heart reacted accordingly.

But then another sensation started, like a wire or cord had been attached to her chest, and someone was tugging on it. Helias, what was wrong with her? And then, an erratic thumping began to beat, like a drum being played quietly. Was she hearing it? Feeling it? Could anyone else hear it? It was like the thumping of a heart but wild and erratic and getting stronger, wholly different from her own pounding heart. She shifted in her seat as though she could get out from underneath the pressure of it, but no matter how she moved it was there, pressing on her.

“What’s this?”

She’d barely met him once, but she recognized his voice immediately. His accent was distinct, but it was more than that. His words seemed to crawl under her skin in a way she’d never felt before. She was losing her mind.

“Ah, the famed Kais.” Her captor’s voice was pleased. “I have something that might be of interest to you.”

“Indeed?” His smooth tone sounded bored, like he would rather be anywhere else.

Still, all the while, she felt that erratic tapping, and now, with him so close, she knew he was the source.

Something struck the side of the wagon, and she would have jumped out of the seat had she not been chained in place.

Her captor spoke, “In this wagon, I have the Crown Princess of Dunleigh.”

He sounded as though he was selling something and her heart dropped. He was selling something—her.

“I will give her to you for a fair price. No doubt the King will pay well for her return. Or you can do with her what you want, I care not.”

Silence followed for a few more erratic beats before Kais spoke again, his voice steady, commanding, “Show me.”

“You do not trust me?” There was a sort of offense to her captor’s words.

“I do not know you,” Kais’ voice held amusement as he mimicked the other man’s tone. “I have no reason to trust you. Show me the girl.”

“Very well.” The amusement was gone, replaced by annoyance.

The heavy lock knocked against the door, followed by the clinking of a key, and then the door was pulled open. Daylight flooded in, lighting the space beyond the blindfold.

“She is here, and she is well.”

There was a long breath, and the erratic tapping slowed to something steadier.

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