It was interesting to think that a simple tavern in a tiny village like Wheat Hill could possibly become busy. Few people believed that concept until they actually bothered to hang around and see for themselves just what could happen when an entire village became tired and in need of some good entertainment at the same time. Rina blamed it on the fact that they all simply had spent far too much time together, enough that all of their bodies had slipped into same rhythm of life and humor. Save for that of the stricter farmers, much of the work for the day was ending and the men folk were wondering in for a little relaxation before heading home to dinner, though company was hardly restricted to the men. As it was, business was rushing as it sometimes did and Rina was loving every moment of it. Stress and a certain drive were good to her; she needed them to get by. Though perhaps today, could she find the time, it might be good to stop a little. William Miller had closed his mill early and had popped in. Now that was a face with which she would not mind arguing.
Except that when every seat was taken there just wasn't time for one-on-one chit-chat. Rina bustled here and there, poured drinks and called out food. There were people to greet and people to scold and someone had managed to yet again spill something.
Every time she found a moment of silence she called out Timber's name. That boy, sometimes all she wanted to do was wring his scrawny neck, though he deserved more, like a plot in the graveyard.
She hit the kitchen, calling him name. "Timber! Timber!"
No answer, not even the laughter he thought no one could hear.
Rina swore under her breath and grabbed a fresh loud of dishes. That boy. Some help. Oh, and he made it up by doing wonders when he did help, but that did not change the fact that sometimes he could just not be found.
When he turned up, he could get the scolding of his life.
It was rare to get in a good nap. Not that Lake was terribly fond of naps. The day was went for being awake and the night for sleeping— or watching one's brother make fake gold, if that was what for the order called. She had always laughed at the princesses and noble women she had seen so often, lounging around and yawning as if they had worked the entire day. Liars. They wouldn't know hard work if it kicked them in the faces and broke their noses.
Well, her line of work had certainly changed. But she still bake bread and helped at the meal, when they weren't in the process of robbing a king. And she remembered the work, before their original mill had been taken away. The day was meant for that work.
But, as it was, Lake had not slept well— too much going on at this palace, and even if it were late afternoon and night would come near enough, she felt she deserved a nap. And the bed was so comfortable and the velvet pillows so soft... She had changed into a cozy pink robe the servants and provided for her and stretched out over the bed. No bother with the blankets, she was warm and comfortable enough. She didn't even worry about Isaac.
Oops. Wrong thought to think. She did not open her eyes, but that single name brought in enough. She smiled gently, thinking of him. She hadn't seen much of him that day, but at that moment that did not matter. He was so handsome, so funny... it was almost a pity she had to rob him. One did not meet many princes like him.
"Lake!"
Her eyes shot open along with the door. She sat up, almost screaming, though the shock was too strong in her body for that.
It was the Bear. Hyrum, that was his name. He had one hand clasped tightly around the doorknob, and the other hung at his side in a tight fist. He stared at her wildly, teeth gritted. "Miss Miller!" His voice softened, though could hardly be called quiet.
Lake threw her arms around her chest, though the robe was plenty modest. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. Her head spun. She had not been surprised like that in so long. "You... you're supposed to knock! I'm a guest!"
He looked at her, look at the door, then swore under his breath. But he did not leave. Instead, he kicked the door from his fist and marched across the room to the bed.
Oh, no...
"You can't stay in here any longer," he said simply. "I have my orders to take you into hiding, and this room is not safe."
"Not safe?" she echoed. Like anything wrong, other than a con, could go wrong in this palace? He had to be kidding. "Are their mice underfoot?" she asked.
He already had her hand and was pulling her to her feet. No point in fighting him, though for the life of her... She winked. "Did Peter's squirrels return?"
"There's nothing funny about this, Miss Miller."
"Maybe not to you, but I happen to find evil squirrels returning from the grave very funny."
Hyrum pulled her back to the door, where he froze, looking both ways into the hall. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Peter told me the story the other day. He was standing by this tree talking and some dead squirrels fell out."
"Lake, you are a lunatic. Let's go." He pulled her to the right, practically running as she tried to keep up. A normal girl might be scared, but Lake had long ago been taught to keep a dagger hidden... besides, this was only the grumpy Bear.
"Mr. Hyrum, I think I have a right to know what is going on here, if it doesn't involve squirrels. The hall was empty, scarily empty. No, a young servant girl scampered around the corner, eyes as wide as saucers.
The levity she felt ebbed. "What's going on?"
"Shh, you." Hyrum pulled her around the corner the servant girl had come from.
Peter was waiting there, his face lined with a complete lack of a smile.
Oh, dear. Something had to be wrong.
"I have her, Peter," Hyrum said gruffly. "She was in her room, just as we thought. Though maybe it would be safer for her there."
"No, this man will look in rooms," Peter replied, shaking his head. His gaze went past Lake, past the corner, into what seemed to be nothing. "I want everyone together. If there is only one, he won't strike against numbers. I'm instructing everyone to the ballroom."
Ballroom? Lake forced a grin. Humor made things better, usually. "Am I invited to a ball? I'm hardly dressed for the occasion."
Peter barely grinned. "Miss Lake, this is for your own safety."
"But I don't even know what's going on!"
"Hyrum, get her there."
Isaac, she thought suddenly. Was Isaac in danger? She whirled to face Peter. "But the prince--"
"The prince is fine. Go with Hyrum."
"But--"
No time to continue. Hyrum still had her arm and was dragging her down the hall even as she tried to begin her sentence. His already huge paces had stretched, and her own feet were beginning to hurt from their speed.
This wasn't good. Nothing bad every happened at palaces and manors. They weren't supposed to. Everyone was at peace, had been for years, and she and her brother and father were the only bad thing around. Her stomach churned, then slammed into her side. Had they been caught?
But Hyrum wouldn't be dragging her off to a ballroom had she been discovered, would he?
She decided to try again. "Hyrum, please, what's going on?"
"Can't talk right now, so do me a favor and be quiet."
How rude. She tried to pull her hand away, but he was too strong. His fingers were clenched around her hand and wrist, just tight enough to keep hold of her... she rather liked it.
The halls were dark, she realized, darker than normal. Usually the torches were lit at this time of day, to prepare for evening, but they remained bare and ashy as the late afternoon shadows pulled in. Lake bit her lip and stopped struggling. There was no one in sight, no matter how many halls they went through, only this horrible sense of dread that she told herself had to be in her imagination for from where else would it come? Her feet were bare, besides, and the carpet did not cover all halls. The bare stone was bitingly cold.
She didn't like to admit it, but she was scared.
"Hyrum, you have to tell me what's going on or I will run away."
He didn't reply at first.
"Hyrum?"
"If you run away," he said in a low voice, "You will regret it. If you run away, it will be your blood painting the walls, right next to the other girl's."
"Blood?" Her voice surprised even her, echoing in the empty hall until it was much louder than she had meant it. She stopped short, and nearly fell as Hyrum kept stomping along, her hand still in his. "What are you talking about? What blood?"
"A girl was killed, we think, not an hour ago." His voice did not change from the same clear growl. "A servant by the name of Caroline has not been seen for some time, and we just found blood in the old wing. Blood was smeared all over walls. We're sure it's Caroline's."
It was like running into a wall. Lake gasped for breath. Her skin itched, like blood was pouring over it. "You can't be serious. Does this have anything to do with that advisor, Lord Orson?"
"Who knows? We all thought Lord Orson was a fluke, the random jealousy of royal life. A mere servant girl, well, that's different."
"You get worked up over the death of a servant but not a lord?"
Hyrum shrugged. "Some people are simply more likeable, no matter what their station. I'm only doing what the King and the Prince ordered me to do."
She nodded. Of course. That made sense. Two murders in the matter of several days, that was something to be concerned about. That meant something was wrong. At least Hyrum was finally telling her what was going on. Except... "There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?"
"Shh."
She thought about stopping again, though she wasn't big enough to stop a Bear. "You wouldn't be gathering everyone up..." No they, probably would, but it was the only excuse that came to her.
"Shh! I can't hear!"
"Can't hear what?" she whispered.
He just shook his head and walked faster. She couldn't see all of his face, but he looked terribly determined. His face was so... Lake didn't know how to describe it, but she lost the urge to bother him, and finally let her hand relax in his. She was with a Bear, a guard. If anything bad happened, he would protect her.
How far was it to the ballroom? That would be something to see. Every frightened person in the palace, all huddled together in hopeful defense... it was almost funny to think of.
Hyrum slid to the left of the hall and forced a door open. The library door, she realized. Not the ballroom. Why were they here? But he pulled her inside and carefully but quickly shut the door. "Hide."
They were out of the hall. Feeling rather like a lost goat she stared around the library. Shelves of books, a few tables... where, exactly, was one supposed to hide?
"Hide!" he repeated. He already had his own dagger out, the blade wiggling in the keyhole.
She darted to the furthest row. "What are you doing?"
"Locking this thing. No one bothers to keep a key to this place, anymore, so you have to use a little ingenuity."
She felt a scream rise and choke itself in her throat. "You mean he's outside? This murderer?"
"Oh, yes. Why else would I push an innocent girl into a room? Are you hiding yet?"
She dropped to her knees and began to pull books from the bottom of shelf. Like she had thought, the shelves were deep and messy enough. She rolled into the cleared shelf and began to pull the books back around her.
A low whistle came from above. Hyrum. "Not bad, not bad. Wish I had thought about it."
"Get your own shelf."
"No time for that. We're just both going to be as quiet as can be. Got that, Miss Miller?"
The shelf was terribly squashed. "How long will this take?"
"Long enough to divert him somewhere else." His voice was closer now. He had to be sitting down now.
"Why didn't you just kill him?"
"Couldn't risk the life of the prince's friend."
She smiled at that thought. The prince's friend. A euphemism, perhaps?
"Especially if she had caused all of this."
Her heart nearly exploded. She rolled back out, knocking the books everywhere.
"Quiet, Lake!" he hissed.
Too late for that. She glared up at him, almost too shocked to speak. He knew! He knew something! No wonder he hadn't kept speaking in the hall."What do you mean, I caused this?"
His gaze met hers, his brown eyes almost on fire. "The gold spinning, that's what I mean?"
She felt a twist of confusion. Or maybe he didn't know much. "You mean this man is killing people so I can spin gold for him?"
"No. That's a stupid idea. I mean that you probably already pulled your little trickery and this man was sent out to bring you back in."
Damn it. Her mouth fell open, her tongue instantly drying.
Hyrum just smiled and leaned back against the shelf as unheard seconds ticked by.
"How long have you known?" she whispered.
"How long have I known?" His smile remained, like it was carved into his face. "So you admit it. That was easier than I thought."
He knew. He had known for a long time, for all she knew. And now... "I swear, Hyrum, if you are working with this man..."
"I'm not working with him!" Instantly his grin vanished and his eyes returned to her face. "I'm trying to protect you. I have a gift for sensing things, so kill me and hate me for that. I had my suspicions something was going on, with what how you and your father were dressing and everything. I had a hunch, I tested it, and I'm right. Now answer me this: do you think this man is after you?"
Lake rolled completely from the shelf and sat up. "I... I don't know." They had gone so long without being caught...
"You have to know. An innocent girl is probably dead because of you! She was probably mistaken for you!"
The emotion switched like a lightening bolt in a dark sky. She felt her muscles tense as she let her eyes burn into him. "How dare you. How dare you say that to me! This is not my fault! I did not kill anyone, and if that murderer is right outside this room and here's me, I don't care!"
She expected him to retaliate. His eyes remained locked with hers for several long seconds, then with a growl he tore them away. "I didn't mean it like that."
That caught her off-guard. This was new; Jay would have never given in.
He sighed and put his hand to his head. "It's not your fault she's dead. It only means we need to protect you, for the prince's sake."
"What do you mean?"
His gaze dropped completely to the floor without so much as a glance of shame. "I don't mean anything."
Here she was, hiding for her life, arguing with a guard over the prince's feelings. She had a sudden urge to laugh. "Of course you do! Why else would you say that?"
"How did you make the gold, Lake?"
She leaned back against the shelf. "That's another question and has absolutely nothing to do with mine."
He still stared at the floor. "How did you do it? The gold? How is it done?"
Questions. Well, she had been asked questions before, though at the moment she was more concerned about Isaac. "Why should I answer that when you can't even look me in the eye, Hyrum?"
An echo of the grin returned as he faced her. "I ask you a third time, how is it done? Maybe that will help protect you."
"If you say so, though I'm not sure how to really answer you, in specifics." She shrugged. "It's just a strange little talent of mine. I don't know how else to answer."
"And I don't know if you're telling the truth."
Lake studied his face. She had always been quite good at reading people, it was a necessary skill that came with the territory. But a skill lost its value when others had the same. Was this guard toying with her? "Why would I lie?"
Hyrum nodded, smile widening. It was strange thing to see on his face. It made him seem almost nice. If only she could somehow remove that audacity that was spread all over him. "I didn't think of that. Why would you lie? A sweet, innocent country maiden, the dear little daughter of a humble miller. For the life of me, I can't figure out how such a lass would learn the skills. And, when she learned said skills, wouldn't buy herself something pretty to wear."
"What would I do with something fancy? It would just get ruined" She could handle this. Act no different from before. "I could show no disrespect to my father."
Hyrum blinked, head on hand, elbow on his raised knee. "It's impossible for an ordinary person to stick a handful of straw into an ordinary spinning wheel and produce gold, you know."
That smile on his face, she could show him the same one. And she did. "Whoever said I was ordinary, Mr. Hyrum?"
"That, Miss Lake, is something you are certainly not."
She chuckled, revealing her teeth. Teeth could frighten, could at least unnerve. "What do you think happens, then, if I'm not really spinning the gold?"
Damn it. She was enjoying this. But the smile wouldn't come off. Oh, well. Was there anything wrong with enjoying a little discussion? Hyrum may be smart, but he was only a guard. She was smarter. Keep the game going, let the thrill of it run down the spine.
He sighed, shook his head, and let his arm collapse— the smile remained. "That, Lake, I can't tell you. It's the same thing I've been wondering. Perhaps you're right and--"
With a shriek of metal, the library door shook.
Hyrum swore and tore to his feet, blade already out. Lake remained, peering off through the small glimpse she had of the door. "Someone trying to get in?" she muttered. "Someone innocent?"
He nodded, face grim. And to think he had been smiling only moments before. Then he dashed to the door, incredibly silent, and rapped quickly.
If it were anyone else, they would respond, Lake thought. Give their name, something.
"Who's there?" The reply came several seconds later, muffled and high. A girl.
Hyrum relaxed visibly. "It's Hyrum the guard. Who are you?"
"Hannah. I'm a servant."
"Hannah?" Hyrum stabbed the blade into the lock and twisted twice. The door sprang open, and a blonde girl collapsed to the floor, crying.
"Good heavens." Lake sprang up and ran over. Hyrum was already raising Hannah up, but the girl was as limp as a doll.
"What happened?" Hyrum demanded. "Are you hurt?"
Hannah shook her head, a weak, tear-filled motion.
"You're supposed to be in the ballroom. Everyone was supposed to go to the ballroom! Why aren't you there?"
"Get away from her, Hyrum." Lake pushed Hyrum's arms away and let Hannah fall, weeping, into her own. Questioning the poor girl was not going to help. Hannah was a small thing, hardly more than a child. "What's wrong, dear?"
Hyrum was again busily locking the door, familiar scowl having returned.
Hannah stared up at her, unblinking and utterly lost, before bothering to respond as her head dropped against Lake's shoulder. "Everything," she murmured. "Absolutely everything is wrong."
The knife fell. "Did someone else die?"
A deep shudder ran through Hannah, and Lake was forced to lower the two of them to the floor. "I didn't know about Caroline. No one had told me. I was in the quarters, I was told to stay there. Then they... they told me that they can't find Caroline and someone is dead and they think it's Caroline."
"Caroline," Hyrum muttered under his breath along with another word. "When was the last time you saw her?"
"She left to meet with Prince Isaac."
Lake almost dropped the girl.
"Prince Isaac?" Hyrum echoed. "Why was she meeting the Prince?"
For the first time since she had entered the room Hannah rose her head with evident energy. "She... I thought everyone knew. At least outside the family and the court."
"Knew about what?" Hyrum's eyes were focused like fire on Hannah. It was practically the same interrogation he had given her, Lake thought.
"Prince Isaac's all but sick about it," Hannah whispered. "He heard, too. He's the one who found the blood, actually. We all know that the Prince and Caroline are wild about each other."