Chapter 16

16

Thala

As I reached out to soothe Edgar, I had my own reservations about helping to exploit the mule. He didn't want to be here, and unlike Prince and me, it was not his duty. But even then, there were times I had my own problems getting my horse to perform.

Prince was a warhorse, not a circus animal, and there were more than a few times he gave me attitude.

Edgar snuffled my hand. I let my fingers graze their way to his cheek. When I felt like he accepted me, I stepped closer and looked into his eyes. "Good boy."

He nudged his cheek into my hand like he was trying to seek more comfort. He had kind, intelligent eyes, and shame hit me that I once thought he was inferior to Prince. Edgar's acceptance humbled me.

"See if he'll get out—" Jim started.

Hank shushed his uncle.

I could feel shared amusement pass between Edgar and me. "What about it, big guy? Are you going to embarrass me or make me look good?"

I gave his reins a slight tug. But I guess Edgar was still a mule and he gave one final snort and stomp as if to stress his final objection to being at the festival before moving forward. I emerged from the trailer with Edgar and handed the reins to a relieved Jim.

"Thank you," he mumbled. "Thank you so much!" He didn't even let Edgar stop in his strides, probably worried that he would balk again.

"Close up my trailer and enjoy the festival," Jim called over his shoulder.

Hank wrapped his arms around me and gave me a kiss on the mouth. I must have shown surprise, because he gave a sheepish grin.

"Was that too presumptuous?" he asked.

"No," I breathed. "I told you I wanted to experience everything."

A slight frown wrinkled his brows. "I don't like the sound of that."

"Why?" At his silence, I thought about my words. "Because it sounds like I'm dying and I have a bucket list?"

"I don't want to think about it." He released me and closed up the trailer. I helped him lock up. Afterward, he cast me a look, a trace of the bittersweet on his face while my heart brimmed with something I couldn't explain.

Freedom.

Excitement.

And yes, a temporary situation.

A vacation from being a princess.

"So what does My Highness want to do first?" He crooked his left arm, and I instinctively locked our elbows.

"Well, we skipped breakfast."

The smile Hank shot me meant we were in sync.

Apparently, for festivals, corn dogs were the breakfast of champions. So instead of the frou-frou crepes Jim had recommended, Hank insisted we try the quintessential fair food. He said it was a must. It was nothing special, just a hot dog wrapped in pancake batter and deep fried.

I enjoyed the apple hand pies though.

Hank had a map of the festival, and after breakfast, we plotted our day. He said he intended to win me the biggest stuffed toy.

We started with the target range. He won me a unicorn.

"What about the High Striker?" I asked.

"It's in between the petting zoo and the Valley Roadhouse booth. We could say hi to Jill and check on Jim and Edgar."

Hours passed, which seemed like minutes. The energy of being anonymous in a crowd invigorated a sense of wonder. A wonder I had not felt since and still paled in comparison to the time Petros and I snuck out to go to Romania. Festivals were not new to me. I'd been on Ferris wheels and the carousels, but it was always as an official duty and not for fun.

Hank stopped to chat with a man selling hunting knives. I stepped closer. Not just regular knives. I read the sign. Ones forged in Damascus steel.

"See anything you like?" Hank asked.

I laughed briefly. "I'm not in the market for new knives, but these are pretty." After talking with the vendor who also happened to be a master bladesmith, I chose two knives.

"We could engrave it for you," the man said. "You can wait or come back for it."

"We'll come back," Hank said.

"I owe you," I told him.

"They're a gift."

"Your first gift to me are knives?" My mouth twitched.

He winced. "You're not superstitious, are you? How about I win you a teddy bear?" He waggled his brows, and I burst out laughing.

Giddy.

I was feeling giddy.

It was a word I never associated with myself and my default reaction was to give myself a mental shake, not to get carried away with the feeling. But when Hank won me the tiny unicorn at the target range, I realized it was a losing battle and decided to just roll with it.

"Go to the High Striker," the bladesmith said. "Go win your girl another stuffed toy."

"They're trying to send us further into the festival and spend money," Hank muttered.

I rose on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks for my unicorn, though."

When we finally made it to the High Striker, we saw Jill taking orders for the Valley Roadhouse. Beside her, white smoke billowed from an enormous grill and filled the air with the mouthwatering aroma of grilled meat. It was around one p.m. and lines of festival-goers formed at every ride and stall. We gave her a wave and headed to the High Striker.

"Shouldn't we say hi to Jim?" I asked, nodding to the signs for the petting zoo.

"There's a line," Hank commented. "He's probably busy. Let's wait until the crowd thins."

We stepped up to the High Striker.

"Three tries for ten dollars," the gangly guy manning the game said.

Hank handed him the money.

"It's a scam," one passerby hollered.

"Is it really?" I asked the attendant.

He shrugged. "He was here earlier and didn't ring the bell."

Hank picked up the hammer and weighed it in his hands. "The digital ones are suspect. I'll give this a swing."

"Are you sure?" I teased. "I don't want you to fail."

"Damn Jim and Jill for this idea." A self-deprecating grin formed on his face.

He didn't even hesitate. He walked up to the plate and swung the hammer.

The marker shot up but stopped shy of the bell.

He shook his head, this time as if he was calculating and adjusting. He changed his stance and was about to go again.

"Wait," I called out.

Hank glanced over his shoulder, watching me run up to him, a puzzled look on his face, one that was a cross between amusement and a question.

I kissed him on the mouth and whispered, "Good luck."

He winked at me. "Thanks, Princess."

And as if that wasn't impulsive enough of me, I patted him on the ass. His really fine ass. Belated mortification seized me. I backed up a couple of steps. My cheeks flamed, and I wished the ground would open and swallow me up. Who am I? Who is this person?

Hank didn't seem to notice my embarrassment, which was a good thing because my brain turned to mush, sucked dry of any dignified explanation to my rash behavior. All his attention was on the High Striker. He gave it a few seconds of assessment before he bent his knees oddly, and when he swung, I realized it was to give maximum momentum to the downswing.

The marker shot up so fast, it hit the bell!

And just like that, all self-censure evaporated. Exhilaration like I'd never experienced before lit every single cell in my body and sent me flying into him. "Yes!"

He turned around, dropped the hammer, and caught me running into him full tilt. Mouths clashed, tongues dueled. We exchanged a very public kiss. The attendant brought us the prize—a teddy bear that was half my length. I could barely wrap my arms around it.

"Woo-hoo! Great job, Hank!" Jill yelled from across the High Striker.

I tightened my arms around my new prize, trying to make sense of these rampaging emotions inside me. I'd watched teenage movies, but I wondered if I had skipped all my adolescent feelings, only to experience them in full color at this instant. Hank obliterated all my training in the art of stoicism in just two days. The thing was, I wasn't sure if I wanted to return these feelings to their cage.

They felt too good.

"Ferris wheel next?" Hank asked, breaking through my carousel of thoughts. He was holding my unicorn. I didn't even notice he had taken it from me so I could hug the giant teddy bear in both arms.

"I guess we need to fall in line," I told him. A good thing because I needed a breather to stand and absorb the atmosphere.

"Let me put the prizes in the SUV."

My brows furrowed. "You sure?"

"Divide and conquer, baby." He winked. "By the time you reach the front of the line, I'll be back, but just in case…" He handed me a couple of bills. "You can get us the tickets."

Hank divested me of my giant teddy bear. As I joined the line for the Ferris wheel, I watched him walk away with the humongous stuffed toy in one arm and holding my unicorn in the other. This was so surreal. I was living in an alternate universe, a dream, and I didn't want it to end. It wasn't just being in a festival like an ordinary citizen. It was being an ordinary girl having a relationship with an ordinary guy. Although Hank was no ordinary man. Maybe I could ask him to be part of our external security. Maybe I could make a special position for him. But something told me he would have too much pride to accept. From what I'd gleaned from our icebreaker questions, he preferred being alone. A nomad. He never put down roots.

I'd been standing for five minutes when a commotion at the very end of the festival caught my attention. There was laughter and shrieking. It came from the petting zoo. The hairs on the back of my neck went static, and the fuzzy haze of my daydreaming cleared.

Edgar emerged from the petting zoo. I could hear his distant braying or whatever mules did when they wanted attention or were displeased. Where was Jim?

Adrenaline spiked.

I broke from the line and rushed toward the mule. Jill reached him first.

"What happened?" I asked her.

"I don't know," Jill said. "He must have escaped his pen."

"Where's Jim?"

"Probably left in the dust," she replied. Her tone was a mixture of amusement and anxiety. I wasn't amused, though. I had enough experience with equine animals to discern distress.

Edgar was without his bridle or reins. Jim had probably taken them off when he put him in the pen. Had someone been cruel to the mule?

"What's the matter, big guy?" I asked. Touching him on the cheek again.

He made a loud whimpering sound and folded on his forelegs, so his front went down. He wanted me to get on.

"Something's wrong," I told Jill.

Without hesitation, I climbed on Edgar. I read him right, and he immediately got up and started trotting back toward the petting zoo. I was glad I'd learned to ride bareback and had learned to stay on Prince without holding on. Learning to shoot with a bow and arrow while on horseback was one of the first skills I had to learn for my royal guard training.

"What are you doing?" Jill yelled in panic.

Hell if I knew. "Tell Hank what happened when he gets back." I was confident he would know exactly what to do.

I patted Edgar's neck. "Okay, show me what's wrong."

The mule charged ahead, and the crowd parted in front of us. I cringed as people held up their phones to film us. My hair and clothes were far from what I wore as a princess, and I had my glasses on, but if any of these videos became viral, there would be too much scrutiny.

Beyond the petting zoo, it was all forest and tall trees and uneven ground, but we finally reached a clearing. Edgar slowed down with his ears pricking up.

I took that moment to catch my breath. Or was it the pounding of my heart? All I knew was a boulder had lodged in my throat because of the surging adrenaline. "What is it? Is Jim in trouble?"

I hadn't seen him in the crowd at all.

Edgar started moving again. This time he veered to the left and headed toward a hill that was more like a steep embankment. I wasn't sure what was on the other side. I stopped Edgar and listened. Voices reached my ears, words too muffled to discern their meaning.

Dismounting, I told Edgar, "Stay here."

I didn't have the capacity to worry if he would listen to me, but I wasn't getting him up the embankment without seeing what was on the other side. I scrambled up the rough terrain and heard a pained cry that made my blood boil. It sounded like Jim.

I cleared the crest, and that was when I saw him…or them. Jim was on the ground. Bruno was standing over him. The ledge they were on was around twenty feet across before it went into another drop.

"Stubborn old man," Bruno growled.

"I'm not selling my land," Jim said.

"Yeah, you just have to die." Bruno hauled Jim to his feet, and I was about to spring into action when Edgar flew past me.

Stubborn mule.

I tore off my glasses and slip-slided after him.

Caught by surprise, Bruno let go of Jim and reached into his jacket. He got off a shot, but it hit dirt. The mule stopped in front of Jim as if shielding him.

"Asshole," I yelled, calling Bruno's attention to me.

He fired again.