If Todd had gone the other way, over the back wall, then he could’ve skirted the building and gotten to the gardens without ever stepping foot into the courtyard.

Instead, a knight in full Imperial uniform grabbed him and held him up by the front of his shirt. He made choking sounds as he dangled and clutched at the man’s wrist.

The rest of the courtyard was full of the Prince’s entourage and people greeting them.

Em got over her shock when the knight shook the little boy.

“Stop it!”

Somehow, she’d run the last few feet without noticing. Jumping up, she grabbed the knight by the arm. Trying to weigh him down enough to let Todd go.

“Let him go!”

“Another little mouse? Is this place infested?”

The knight’s lips curled in disgust.

“I’m not a mouse,” she pouted.

Then she bounced, putting more strain on the man’s arm. It must’ve been made of iron or something because it barely moved. Meanwhile, Todd was choking. Not enough that his life was in danger, but it couldn’t have been comfortable.

“What is all of this?”

With everyone else, Em looked at the speaker.

Unlike everyone else, she almost fainted a second time. She gaped at the woman, who was looking down at them with a contemptuous glare. Heart pounding in distress and shock.

She knew that woman.

Even though she’d never seen her before as either Em or Emmaline.

Brown hair, streaked with bright red highlights… A ghost. Or a dream.

“This little rat approached the royal retinue,” the knight said with dignity. “I was about to remove it.”

With his free hand, he reached for a knife on his belt, and Em snapped back to the more urgent matter. Todd realized what he was doing too and lost all control of his form. Tail and teeth sprouted abruptly as he squeaked in alarm.

“Todd’s not a rat,” Em yelled. “Don’t you dare touch him!”

“You are not a Lycan,” said the woman. Again drawing attention to her cold face. “Who are you to interfere?”

Em tightened her grip on the man’s arm. Why won’t it just drop already?!

Sticking up her chin, she said as haughtily as she could, “I’m Lady Emmaline Grimshaw.”

Something flickered across the woman’s face.

“You’re Baron Grimshaw’s sister?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s not how you address-”

The woman interrupted.

“It’s fine. Tell me, Lady Emmaline, what is that Lycan to you?”

Em thought quickly.

A ‘friend’ would be socially unacceptable. And untrue, though that wouldn’t have bothered her if it would work. A servant wouldn’t work either, though that was closer to the truth. But a servant could be killed or beaten for their mistake.

And Em remembered how cold the woman had been when she’d seen her before.

So, anything that might sound sympathetic to a Lycan probably wouldn’t work either. Leaving guardian out as well.

So maybe-

“He’s my pet.”

For an instant, there was silence. Then the woman threw back her head in a bark of laughter.

“Hahaha! Vachel, release the girl’s pet. Girl, take that thing away and leash him. Before he causes more trouble.”

Todd was only nine and not astute enough to realize he couldn’t get out of the courtyard without her. As soon as the knight let him go, he tried to make a dash for it. In a panic, Em grabbed him by the collar and they both fell on their faces.

“Stop it, you dummy,” she muttered at him as she got to her knees. “Let me lead you to the garden so they don’t kill you.”

The little boy whimpered, but apparently understood her well enough.

Trying to walk with dignity, keeping her chin in the air, Em walked through the retinue and toward the wall leading to the stables. Beyond which was another wall leading to the gardens.

As they walked, she looked around only once.

And accidentally caught Prince Thiago’s eye.

She almost froze mid step and spun her face forward. Heart pounding.

It wasn’t just that he might take her away if he found out her secret. It was knowing as much about him as she did.

The original protagonist was nothing but a snake in human skin.

A man who could murder his brothers with his own hand and shamelessly claim an unknown assassination. A man who could, and did, destroy entire families, cities, and countries in his mad pursuit to gain and keep power.

A man who was even now murdering his father by dripping poison into his meals.

They’d barely gotten through the gates and into the stable yard when Todd wrenched himself free.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“You’re welcome!” Em hissed after him.

Todd, of course, didn’t look back. Probably didn’t even hear her. Which was good, since she didn’t want anyone else to hear her, either. Not when she was supposed to be ‘leashing’ her pet.

She escaped as well, running through gates until she could enter the kitchens. Where she nearly tripped a cook by scurrying in front of the man. He stumbled, almost dropping a hot saucepan.

“Miss, don’t do that!” he shouted after her. “I could have burnt you!”

Em didn’t answer.

Taking the servants’ stairwell, she raced upstairs and to her room. Tracy wasn’t there, which was fine with her.

She could hide under her bed and shiver by herself.

***

Madeline Dulce watched Em drag away the young boy. Thoughtfully pursing her lips.

So that was Emmaline Grimshaw.

Baron Grimshaw’s younger sister was darling. He hadn’t talked about her much, but when he had, it was with the only smile she’d ever seen quirking his lips. (If you can call that barely turned up expression a smile.)

Was that just the power of little sisters?

It made something ache in her chest, and she returned her thoughts to the present.

Swinging off her horse, she handed the reins to the person who came for them.

“Where is the Baron?”

Thiago’s voice cut through the noise like a hot knife through butter. Inwardly, Madeline flinched. She was careful to keep her face impassive as she turned toward her intended.

“He’s on his way, your Highness.”

Thiago shoved the man out of his way and marched toward the front doors. Fortunately for everyone in the manor, the doors opened just then and out stepped Flint.

Safe behind Thiago’s back, Madeline took a split second to assess Flint’s condition.

To her relief, there was no sign of weakness or fatigue. The man must have a never ending battery hidden on him somewhere. She envied that.

As though Thiago knew her thoughts were on another man, he glanced over his shoulder. By then Madeline had carefully looked away. Arms crossed and expression bored.

Thiago smirked and turned forward. He held out a hand to Flint.

Flint politely took it and bowed over it.

“Welcome, your Highness.”

“This place is a dump,” the Prince announced. “Have you done nothing to clean it up?”

“It was a lot worse when I first came.”

“I hope to see improvement at my next visit.”

“Of course, your Highness.”

“Now, show us to our rooms. We’ll begin the inspection tomorrow.”

Madeline grimaced. Tomorrow? Couldn’t he give her a day or two to rest?

No. This man, too, had endless energy. But Madeline was privately sure its source was some sort of demon rather than a battery.

Normally a servant showed guests to their rooms. But either Flint decided they were too important for that, or… glancing at everyone they passed, Madeline guessed the truth a lot quicker.

There were no official servants.

Will Thiago notice? Probably. It’ll just increase his scorn for the other man.

In the end, it meant Flint showed them himself. Madeline lagged the two men, listening to their conversation.

Since she was just extra luggage and a weapon for dangerous situations, she eventually let her mind wander. Trying not to stare at the back of Flint’s head and his lovely hair.

For an instant, she transported back in time.

She’d been pretending to be a mercenary for over a year already by the time her then-current mercenary group had been attached to Flint’s knightage.

After a long battle with the now gone Allgris kingdom, she’d trudged into camp. So fatigued she wanted to cry thinking of all the work still ahead of her.

Still, she’d gotten to work. Helping the healers with the wounded and stretching her mana as close to dry as she could get.

She remembered the way her hands shook as she cleaned yet another wound. Squeezing bloody water into a bowl… When the rag was snatched from her hand and dropped with a plop into the bowl.

“Hey!”

The snarl died on her lips when she came face to face with Grimshaw. Commander Grimshaw at the time.

She knew who he was, of course. And she’d been careful to avoid him in case he recognized the sorceress daughter of house Dulce. It was possible. They’d run across each other at events before…

She’d just been much younger at those events, and they hadn’t done more than exchange a few words.

So it was possible he also didn’t recognize her.

Still, having him so close so suddenly made her insides momentarily freeze with confusion.

“Sorceress,” he said gruffly. “Go to bed.”

“Like hell! There’s too much to do for that.”

She reached for the bloody rag and bowl, but he closed his hand around her wrist.

“If you render yourself useless to us, even more lives could be lost. I’ll finish here. You go to bed.”

Madeline argued stubbornly. It was a matter of pride by then, and she consciously ignored the way she swayed even while on her knees.

To her shock, he’d simply ignored her arguments and picked her up.

But not in some romantic princess hold.

He threw her over his shoulder and ignored her weak fists against his back. Her whole body trembled with fatigue, but she still tried to get herself free.

Until he dropped her on her own bedroll and pulled the covers over her. Already, her body was ready to succumb, and she struggled to sit up. The big man put a hand on her shoulder and held her down.

That’s all he had to do. Hold her down until her body betrayed her, and she swooned into a dead sleep.

Thinking back on the memory, Madeline smiled at the wall.

He’d been infuriating. Expecting to be obeyed like that. It was too much for her pride, even now, to admit he’d been right.

“What’s so amusing?”

She flinched.

“What do you mean?”

Thiago frowned and reached out to push a lock of her hair out of her face. Even if she’d been free to do so, she didn’t dare look at Flint. Which was silly. There was no reason he should care that the Crown Prince was touching his fiancee.

It was long practice that kept her flinch inside.

“You’ve been staring at that wall for some time. Did it say something funny?”

She scowled at him and took a step back.

“This is my room, right?” She pointed at a door.

“Yes, your Highness.”

Her insides twisted. Your Highness. Figures. She scowled more and marched to the door.

“If you two wish to continue your conversation in the hallway, be my guest. But I’m going to lie down.”

She slammed the door behind her. Wishing she dared to lock it. Preferably with magic so Thiago couldn’t just break the lock.

The room was humble. Very humble. Not a commoner's shack humble, but old and in need of polishing and repairs. The curtains were beautifully embroidered, but ragged at the corners. As were the rugs.

In fact, the only new thing in this room was the blanket.

Madeline threw herself on the bed, not bothering to take off her boots. There, she dropped an arm over her eyes.

How long did she have to endure this torture?

Hell, what had she done to deserve it in the first place?