Chapter 18

R osamund’s mount galloped between Phillip and the other men. She heard him calling for her to wait, to stop. But she didn’t want to stop. Her heart was pounding a wicked beat. The flames of fury burned within her, threatening to consume all that she was.

To think, she thought him handsome! That she liked him. That she went out of her way to bring him cushions and blankets when they spent the night in the first cabin. What a fool she’d been.

She’d told him things. That she didn’t want to be married to someone she had never met. That he was that person. Hot tears of anger at his deception burned through her.

Ahead, she saw a clearing and headed for it. Behind her, she heard the pounding of another horse and knew he followed. She urged her horse onward, faster. So fast, she saw the limb hanging down too late to avoid it. She ducked, but the end of it scraped across her cheek. A stinging sensation erupted in the cool breeze. She felt the dampness of blood.

“Rose, wait!” he called after her.

She threw a look over her shoulder to see he was nearly upon her. He was a better rider than she was, she had to admit, and was closing the gap. The other two men were right behind him as they chased her down.

“Yah!” she shouted, urging her horse to go faster.

It was not enough. He caught up to her, pulling alongside her as they entered the clearing. He was close. So close he reached for her reins. She batted his hand away.

“Go away!” she shouted.

“Rose, please. Let me explain.”

Her mount stumbled in a divot in the ground and came to an abrupt screeching halt. She was thrown from the saddle and landed with a thud in a thick tuft of grass that managed to cushion most of her fall. She managed to roll out of the way before she was trampled by her spooked horse. She was on her back, staring up at the late afternoon sky with wispy clouds. A quick inventory and she realized everything hurt from head to toe. The next thing she saw was Phillip’s face in her line of vision. Concern etched his features as he slipped an arm around her. He pulled her into his lap and cradled her to his chest.

“Are you all right?”

She glared up at him, the fire still burning through her. She pressed her lips together, wishing she had the energy to shove him away. As it was, she was rather weak and in a lot of pain.

“Your cheek is bleeding but it looks like only a scratch. Is anything broken?” His hand slipped down one arm, feeling the bone.

Again, she wanted to bat his hand away but it hurt too much to move. Still, she didn’t think she had broken anything.

“I’m fine,” she muttered.

“That was quite a tumble she took.” She recognized Jeffrey’s voice. He had dismounted and moved to stand in front of them. “Is the princess all right?”

“The princess is quite awake and aware you’re talking about her as if she were unconscious,” Rosamund spat.

“Quite the spitfire, isn’t she?” the other man said.

Jeffrey gave him a half-hearted shove with his elbow. “Quiet, Charles.”

“Both of you shush,” Phillip snapped. Then he turned his attention back to her, his expression softening. “Rose?”

“I told you not to call me that.”

She pushed away from him, sliding out of his lap and into the cool grass. She swiped her hand over her stinging cheek. The scratch must have been shallow for there was no more blood. She glanced down to see a grass stain on one elbow. Likely where she landed and skidded to halt her fall. The knees of her pants also had dark green grass stains. Meanwhile, her horse was happily grazing on the other side of the clearing.

“Let me help you up.” He wrapped a hand around her upper arm.

“I don’t your help, prince .”

She shoved him off and struggled to her feet. She wobbled a moment and realized one ankle throbbed with a sharp, burning pain. When she tried to take a step, she lost her balance. But Phillip was there to catch her and keep her from tumbling to the ground again.

“Unhand me,” she snapped.

“It’s your ankle, isn’t it?” Jeffrey asked. “Best get that boot off before it swells.”

“Jeffrey, where’s the nearest town or village?” Phillip asked.

“More than a day’s ride,” he said. “We won’t make it before nightfall.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her upright. As much as she wanted to shrug him off, she knew if she did, she would regret it. For now, she was able to put most of her weight on her good leg and lean into him.

Phillip glanced around the clearing. “We best make camp here tonight.”

“Here?” She balked at the idea of being in the open at night.

Though she was willing the night before, she wasn’t so fond of the idea now. Her ankle hurt, her elbow throbbed, and she was angry with Phillip for his continued deception. She wished they were at an inn and she had a room to herself so she could think.

“I don’t see any inns with featherbeds, your highness, so yes, here,” Jeffrey chided.

She shot him a glare as she frowned.

“That will be quite enough, Jeffrey,” Phillip said. “Make camp, will you? I’ll see to the princess.”

She hissed out a breath. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“Jeffrey is right. You need to get that boot off before your ankle swells and you can’t get it off. Come on. I’ll help you.” He walked her toward the clearing where there was a fallen log.

Despite her anger with him, she was grateful for the help. She doubted she was able to walk across the clearing of her own volition. Her ankle did throb quite a bit.

“I don’t like you very much right now,” she muttered.

“I know.”

“I’m angry with you,” she said.

“I know that, too,” he replied. “And you have every right to be. You’re right. I should have told you straightaway who I was.”

At the log, he helped her lower to the ground. She whimpered as her ankle twinged. She stretched out her legs as she leaned against the roughened bark. He knelt at her feet and reached for her left boot, then paused. He looked up at her, his brows raised in question.

“May I?” he asked.

She huffed out a breath. “Despite my better judgment, yes.”

Phillip chuckled as he grasped her heel and gave a tug. She gasped as the pain lanced through her. She clenched her jaw tight to keep from crying out.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Try to relax.”

“I’ll try,” she said through gritted teeth.

He tugged once more, and once more, she involuntarily gasped and fought back tears, the agony threatening to overwhelm her. When the boot slipped off her foot, she blew out the breath. He placed it aside and then began to examine her. His deft fingers moved along her foot and around her ankle, probing with a gentle touch. When he got to the soft place below her anklebone, she winced.

“That hurts?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said on a breath.

He continued his probing. He grasped her stockinged foot in one hand and then gently flexed her foot.

“Does that hurt?” he asked.

“No.”

Satisfied, he released her and sat back on his heels. “It doesn’t appear to be broken. That’s good news. I think you merely twisted it.”

Behind him, Charles said something to Jeffrey who was busy rolling out a bedroll he’d pulled from the saddle bags. Charles had an armload of wood and dropped it on the ground, then built a small pyramid for a fire.

“So, who’s Edward?” she asked, thinking of the alias he gave her.

“Edward is my grandfather’s name.”

She kept her gaze fixed on the two men working together.

“Are these your hunting friends?” she asked, watching as they built a small campsite.

Phillip glanced back at the two of them. “You might say that. I grew up with Jeffrey. Charles is his younger brother.”

“And it’s true Jeffrey was to bring you to Myst Hall?”

He met her gaze and gave a nod. “Yes. I managed to slip away for a ‘hunting expedition,’” he put hunting expedition in air quotes, “when my parents were leaving to make the trek to your kingdom. I thought I could avoid my duties if I were not there to accompany them.”

He moved to sit next to her, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at the ankles. He reached for a long stick with several green leaves on the end and picked them off one by one.

“You didn’t want to go,” she said, though it wasn’t a question.

“No,” he admitted.

“And you ran away,” she said. “Like I did. Because you, like me, did not want to get married.”

His gaze met hers. That feeling she had when they first met resurfaced, making her gut clench with a feeling she had not had before until she met Phillip. She didn’t want to admit how handsome he was or even how comfortable she was when she was with him. He made her feel safe, even when they were in Olga’s strange magical cabin that was clearly an illusion.

“Once again, your highness, it appears we are not so unalike.”

“It would seem so.”

She looked away, her hands clasped in her lap to keep from fidgeting. Her palms had broken into a hot sweat and yet still felt clammy. They watched Jeffrey and Charles continue to build the campsite. Charles started the fire, the flames tiny at first. He blew a breath to stoke the fire and moments later, it caught.

“So, I suppose we are to return to Myst Hall, then,” she said, her voice flat.

Her heart thrummed at the thought of returning home with the prince, the very man she was supposed to marry. How would her parents react? Overjoyed she had managed to return with Phillip? Her birthday was day after tomorrow and then, a few days after that, the wedding.

Phillip picked a leaf off the branch, then tore it into tiny pieces. The pieces fluttered from his fingers into his lap. He brushed them away, then pulled off another leaf and repeated. His gaze was distant. Though he saw Charles and Jeffrey, he really did not see them.

“I suppose we are,” he said at last, his voice as flat as hers.

He sounded as disappointed as she felt. Clearly, he did not want to marry her either. She couldn’t decide if she should be insulted or not.

The thought of returning to her boring royal life did not bring her joy. The idea of an adventure hunting for dragon’s treasure was now nothing more than a dream and a wish.

A shout rose up from Charles. He was on the other side of Phillip’s horse and then emerged with the smashed rolled-up map in his hand, a broad smile on his face. Phillip growled, a sound low and deep in his throat. He shot to his feet and hurried toward Charles as he was unrolling the map.

“Well, what have we here?” Charles said it more to himself than anyone else as he crouched on the ground to examine the map.

“Put that back,” Phillip shouted. He snatched the map from Charles and began to roll it up again. “That’s not your concern.”

“That was a map to a treasure,” Charles said, rising to his feet and looking Phillip in the eye. “A map you weren’t going to share with us.”

Phillip glanced at Rosamund, who merely shrugged as if to say she had no opinion. The direction of their lives had changed and there was nothing either of them could do to stop it. Phillip looked back at Charles, clutching the map. Jeffrey joined them, peering at the roll.

“A treasure map, you say?” Jeffrey said.

“It’s nothing,” Phillip said.

She watched as he made to toss it into the fire and for some reason, a strangled cry escaped her.

“No, don’t!” she shouted.

Phillip halted, clutching the map in his hand. His surprise was evident on his face as he looked at her. “Don’t?” he asked.

“No,” she said on a breath. “Tell them, Phillip.”

Phillip looked back at the two men as he contemplated his words. “Gentlemen, this is a map to a treasure guarded by a dragon.”

They both stared at him for a long moment, exchanged a glance and then burst out laughing.

Jeffrey said, “There are no dragons around here, Phillip.”

In the distance, there was a faint sound. A whump, whump of what seemed like large wings. They all cast their gazes upward as the shadow blotted out the late afternoon sun. An outline of a dragon glided through the air.

Rosamund’s eyes widened as she watched it traverse the sky.

“Are you sure about that, mate?” Phillip asked, humor in his voice.

Jeffrey leveled his gaze at his friend. “Perhaps you should show us that map.”