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  "Milly," I called, "Charlotte needs you."

  Chapter 13

  Princess Charlotte

  I WAS ALONE. THAT WAS clear to me now.

  For a second, it felt like Young was an ally in all this. He had understood, he had taken my side, and he hadn't left me throughout this whole ordeal—until now. I'd let myself fall apart for a moment and he'd proven to be no more substantial than Emmett. Milly had always been a pillar of comfort in my life, but ever since the incident, when I was forced to kill those men, Milly hadn't felt like a person I could count on.

  Milly rushed over to me and dutifully put her arms around me. But I could tell it was more out of habit than anything else and I didn't need it, not out of obligation. I didn’t need a servant or a prince, I needed a friend. I shouldn't have let myself cry. My parents would want me to keep going.

  The orange glow of the fire seemed to suck the sunset out of the sky. Emmett shortly returned with the carcass of something and proceeded to roast it on the fire, taking the silence as his cue to regale us with stories of his past adventures. Normally this would annoy us, but tonight it was a welcome distraction.

  "And when I was just four years old," Emmett boasted, "I climbed to the top of the tallest mountain in Algony on my own, with nothing but a small blade and the will to look down-"

  I felt Young's gaze on my face across the fire.

  Emmett's voice rose. "Then at the tender age of seven, I departed from my beloved kingdom in search of..."

  I willed myself to continue to listen to Emmett—anything to avoid looking at Young. I didn't want to see his false sympathy. I didn't want to see him mouth an apology. I wasn't angry, just done.

  "Where I pulled the sword Excalibur from a large rock."

  My gaze drifted up along the fire's edge, drawn like a ship caught in the tide. I felt myself losing an internal battle against my own curiosity.

  "... but I had no interest in their filthy kingdom," Emmett continued.

  I surrendered. My gaze met Young's and I held it, challenging him to look away.

  "I merely returned the sword back to its stone, and I've been told it's still there."

  I felt my skin prickle beneath his unwavering stare. He gave nothing away. Something hot radiated from my forehead down to my chest as if my body understood his message but my brain didn't know how to translate it.

  "Princess Charlotte," Emmett said, blocking my line of sight to Young and the edge of the fire. I felt cold on my face where Emmett had snuffed out the fire's light. "Weren't you listening?"

  I sat up straight. "Uh... yes. The uh... mountain—"

  Young interrupted. "Charlotte seemed enthralled by your tale of Excalibur." I nodded as Young continued. "It's no wonder you've left the princess out of breath. I bet you have another fine story to tell."

  Emmett beamed. “Of course she loves it.” His chest puffed up and he sat back down an equal distance between Young and me and began prattling on again. I was struck by the word princess as it came off Young's lips. It was something I was called by most people but Young hardly ever said it. He usually called me just Charlotte, so hearing princess from his mouth sounded like an insult and not a title.

  When Emmett's storytelling finally exhausted him, he walked back over, motioning to Milly to leave my side. She got up and took a seat beside Young on the other side of the fire. I knew I had to muster whatever energy I had left to keep Emmett appeased.

  Emmett leaned in close. "Fair Princess, did you enjoy your dinner?"

  "Very much," I said with a smile.

  "Only the finest for a woman in my company."

  I was worn out from playing this part, but I could feel the girl I was a week ago telling me it was exciting. I was starting to realize things were more fun before they were real. Suddenly, I was being courted. I was speaking to a handsome prince around my age. It was a scenario I'd often fantasized about while waiting for my parents to decide I was old enough to be courted. Although courting in my case was never going to be more than meeting a man my parents had already agreed to bind me to. I didn't want to be married. Not yet. But this part, the courting, seemed glamorous. I guess I never imagined it would be so much work or with someone who so severely repulsed me. There was nothing romantic about it. It was politics for the sake of survival—just like everything else in my world.

  I pulled a strand of my hair out of my face. "You have quite a gift for storytelling."

  I heard a laugh across the fire. Milly leaned into Young with a bright smile and tucked a strand of her summery hair behind her ear. I could hear a wisp of her voice across the fire, but I couldn't make out what they were saying.

  Emmett said, "Thank you, Princess. I have quite a life."

  I nodded. "So that stuff is all true?"

  My eyes wandered back to Milly as she giggled once again. Her laugh was so infectious it made me smile too. I wondered what was funny.

  Emmett sighed. "Well, it's mostly true. Embellished in some areas as all great stories are."

  "Yes, it sounds like it takes a lot of skill," I said.

  Young's laugh floated across the fire, grasping my attention. It was a sound I'd never heard before, and I realized I'd been listening out for. The moment I heard Milly laugh, I'd been dreading it, and somehow it was worse than I expected.

  Chapter 14

  Prince Young

  I KNEW I'D MESSED THINGS up with Charlotte. It only took me a moment of her reaction for it to click. I'd tried to signal my apology to her by the fire and to assist her with Emmett, but this morning she wouldn't even look at me. Lucky for me, Milly seemed to be in good spirits. At least she didn't hate me.

  Emmett watered his horse as I scouted ahead. I lumbered through the forest, the gentle rustle of the trees, carried the foggy haze of early morning. With the sun not high enough in the sky to warm the air, I felt a chill similar to the feeling of stepping into the coolness of the river. The area ahead of last night's camp was not as densely wooded, and the forest floor thrived with overgrown ferns and shrubbery. I made a mental note to tell our group to step carefully through them and also noted a patch of plants I thought might be poisonous.

  "Prince Young!" Milly called, a sound that snapped me out of the sereneness of the forest.

  I felt my stomach tighten. I gripped my sword and turned back to her direction. I mentally prepared myself for battle. I'd gone too far. My pulse rose up to my throat. I sprinted but my legs couldn't carry me fast enough. Then I saw her.

  She stood in a clearing by the river, her shoulders relaxed and her smile sunny.

  "What's wrong?" I huffed, surveying the area.

  Confusion wrinkled her forehead then dispersed into apology. "Oh, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to check on you."

  I spent a moment suspended in awkward disbelief. "I'm fine" I croaked, still catching my breath. I felt a hint of relief when it sunk into my brain that nothing was wrong, but now I'd have to scout again, and I'd lost so much ground already.

  "How did you sleep?" she asked.

  "Oh, I uh... I didn't really sleep." The concerned look on her face said she needed more information. "Emmett. I mean, just in case."

  Her smile returned. "Ah. That's very kind. You know, now that you mention it, your eyes look kind of red." She squinted and walked toward me—analyzing my face.

  This whole conversation was a complete waste of time. I looked for an opening to politely escape.

  "Milly!" Charlotte called, stepping into the clearing. She froze when she saw me, for a moment that felt like it dragged. Her gaze crawled from me to Milly and stayed there.

  This was my chance. "I should finish scouting before we get going." I turned to leave and neither of them seemed to mind.

  The rest of the morning went smoothly enough. The girls kept to themselves. Emmett insisted the plant that I thought was poisonous, wasn't, so he rubbed it on his chest to show us how confident he was that I was wrong. I'd only seen him scratch there twice but I was certain the reacti
on would kick in soon.

  We followed the river for several hours as the forest thinned around us, and then in the distance we spotted the peaked towers of Castle Cadere. Relief washed over me.

  "It was so close to where we camped last night," I said. "We probably could have made it."

  Charlotte looked like she was fighting the urge to sprint to it—her eyes widened and her pace quickened to a canter.

  Each step up the hill revealed more of the castle, like its towers sprouted out of the grassy mound. It was unmistakable. We had made it. We hustled up the hill, the deadened thud of Emmett's horse climbing like a heartbeat, rising as we neared.

  As we reached the top, we could see more—a grand structure that rivaled that of Hiems, with red flags waving. Once the princess was safe inside, I'd finally return to the north and join Leon in finding my brother.

  The last few strides up the hill simultaneously pushed all the air from my lungs and put my plan to find my brother on hold.

  When we finally saw the base of the castle, my heart sank. Cadere was surrounded by an army even greater than what I’d seen of the Drethen army. Soldiers, catapults, archers, generals, all stood ready for battle. The unmistakably green uniforms were just like Emmett’s and told me three things. First, this army didn't belong to Besmium. Second, I had underestimated Emmett. Third, Charlotte had to marry him or we were all going to die.

  Chapter 15

  Princess Charlotte

  ONE LOOK AT EMMETT's smug expression and my recognition of the same green present on his crest was all it took to realize what was happening. Instinctively, I reached out and grabbed Milly’s hand. This wasn’t the haven I’d allowed myself to believe was waiting. How long had Emmett been planning this? Was he looking for me in the woods?

  "Look, Princess," Emmett said with a sly grin, "my reinforcements have arrived. The castle is secure."

  I gulped. "How did they know to come here?"

  "I sent a messenger to deliver word to my general a few nights ago, during my hunt. Some of my men were a mile or so away the whole time. I told them not to be seen, so I could see your reaction," Emmett replied. He leaned forward and looked at Young’s face before chuckling to himself, “Totally worth it.”

  I shot a look at Young. His furrowed brow and gentle frown at the corner of his lips told me he was as frightened as I was. In the back of my mind, I regretted my choice to let Emmett hunt alone. It would have been better to keep an eye on him. Despite all the posturing he displayed about how safe we were, it was clear that his army was a threat. The castle was surrounded—a trap—and we were walking right into it. We could make a break for the forest, but they had horses. We wouldn’t get very far. But that wasn’t the only problem; something else pulled me toward the castle, the possibility that my parents had somehow made it here too. Emmett had us.

  Emmett strode confidently in front of us, confirming that he too knew we had no hope of fleeing. Young’s face calmed as we approached the army, but his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. Milly fiddled nervously with her cross. As we followed Emmet past the first few rows of iron-plated men, it occurred to me that I had neither a sword nor a cross to comfort me, and I wondered what it was I was holding onto. I approached the last major stronghold of my kingdom and felt my hope drain away as I swallowed the realization that it was already lost.

  It was clear that the soldiers all admired Emmett. They bowed deeply, and some cheered like they were welcoming a hero back from war. The excitement and joy of their army was unsettling. They were victorious; their prey was surrounded, and there hadn't even been a battle. Milly squeezed my arm and leaned closer to me.

  As we walked through the courtyard, now filled with Algonian soldiers, I remembered the summers I spent here with my father. Warhorses sipped water around the pond where we used to skip rocks. Beneath the blooming marigold trees were pitched tents and crackling fires, with smiths hammering at the edges of heated blades. Besmium’s forge was crawling with foreign troops, the red uniforms all replaced with green. On the grassy fields where we once found pictures in the clouds, monstrous catapults were partially constructed and ominously aimed at the castle. How long had they been here? A month? Longer?

  I shook with rage as the reality of how much I’d lost set in. Just days ago I knew my father was alive, the war was just the weather and not an actual threat, and I felt safe. Now Besmium was in trouble and Algony circled it like a hawk. The doors to the castle were more than ten feet high, yet they seemed smaller than I remembered. Trumpets sounded as the doors unbarred, the way they always did, but it seemed inappropriate for prisoners to celebrate. A long line of Besmium guards stood at attention to welcome us. The castle doors closed behind us with a loud boom.

  My gaze locked with Young's and in that instant I hoped we had the same crazy plan. We strode in behind Emmett, Young’s gaze locked on mine. He nodded and at once I pulled the dagger he'd given me and held it against Emmett's throat. Young pulled his sword and held it at his back.

  "We got him!" Young called. Milly screamed and jumped back.

  I was right. He did have the same plan. Emmett froze. Young’s gaze met mine, triumph beaming from his eyes. We’d done it. My heart swelled with gratitude as it thudded wildly in my chest. We could use Emmett as a hostage to make his troops retreat. I gazed into Emmett's face and saw nothing but a calm smile and crystal blue eyes. He reached up to his chest and scratched it. I glanced around the room to find the Besmium soldiers with their blades drawn, surrounding Young.

  "W-why?" I stammered.

  "Charlotte," a familiar voice said.

  My heart leaped. I lowered my knife. Young’s gaze burned my cheek as he kept his sword pointed at Emmett. I turned slowly to the voice. She stepped forward, her rigid features, her dark hair pinned back. Tears pricked my eyes, my body weakening. Mother.

  Her eyes followed the dagger in my hand. "Put the knife down," she continued. I tried to slide the dagger back into my belt, but my hands were shaking. I dropped it and ran to her.

  "Mom," I cried. "You made it. Is Father—"

  "I don't know," she said stiffly.

  I nodded, holding back tears. "We," I sniffed, "we need to take Emmett hostage. He's their prince. They'll have to leave."

  The queen walked slowly toward Emmett. "Young, it's alright. You can drop your weapon." Young hesitated before lowering his sword and bowing to her.

  "Apprehend him." Before the words finished leaving her mouth, the guards had Young restrained and they’d begun to shackle his arms behind him.

  "No, Mom!" I called. She ignored me and bowed deeply to Emmett. He reciprocated and turned his attention to me.

  "Relax, Princess," Emmett said. His voice slithered down my spine. He chuckled. "Women's minds are so cute. You seem to have the wrong impression about my soldiers. They're a wedding present."

  I stumbled back. He continued. "Your mother has agreed to allow me your hand in marriage."

  "Young," I said. The name suffocating me. "What about Young?"

  My mother sighed. "He tried to kill the future King of Besmium."

  Rage began to boil inside me as everything sunk in.

  "The council will decide his fate," she said. "Don't worry, though, we can't go around hacking off princes or we'll never have peace. He'll most likely be sent back to Vires."

  As they dragged Young away in chains, I felt myself detach from my mother. I was an orphan. Tears of hate burned my eyes until I squeezed them shut and tried to picture what my father would say. Take a deep breath. I clenched my fists as tightly as I could manage. This was wrong. It wasn’t good for Besmium and it wasn’t what my father wanted. And Young—how could I let him spend the night in the dungeon? What was my mother thinking? How long had she been planning this? I scanned the Besmium guards, all in my mother’s control. Emmett was untouchable. I’d have to play the part of an obedient princess until I could find another way to turn things in my favor.

  Chapter 16

  Prin
ce Minseo

  IT'S MY FAULT YOUNG is dead.

  Imprisoned, it was easy to lose track of the days. How long had it been since I was pulled away from him? Days? Weeks? The image of my brother's face remained in my mind. The fear in his eyes haunted me. When the Drethen soldiers dragged me to their army camp, I'd waited up all night. If Young was still alive, the enemy would likely capture him. When he didn't arrive, I feared the worst. Still, I wanted to believe he'd escaped.

  The Drethen army camp was unlike any I'd seen. I'd spent some time with my father among the Viran troops and always admired their efficiency and their loyalty. The Drethens were different. They were not an organized and well-led group poised for war but rather a drunken and obnoxious horde. The air was filled with the sound of fistfights and war songs and smelled of body odor and fiery liquor—a scent that burned my nose until I acclimated. I was chained to a tree, limited to a radius of a few feet. The iron chains dug into my wrists from their weight and blistered my skin.

  Captain Trisby was in charge of the camp. A broad man with a thick beard that went down to his chest. He ordered the men not to harm me, but I didn't have much faith that they'd obey.

  On the third day of my incarceration, Captain Trisby and a few of his soldiers sat down beside me, the heavy stench of booze around them. "To our honored guest," he said, raising an oversized goblet to his lips. He moved clumsily toward me, huffing as if each step drained him. He held the metallic cup in front of me. "Here, old boy," he said, pushing it against my lips.

  I welcomed it. The liquid scorched my throat, a vile taste that differed from what I drank in Vires. I nearly choked but gulped back another burning mouthful. It was a brief distraction from my wrist pain.