The truth of the matter was that Jay had never known what a young man as handsome as himself was supposed to do around a pretty girl, once all the petty flirtation had passed. When that was what all one did for a maiden one might become exceptionally good at it, and heaven knew Jay liked to get a girl blushing. But it had never gone past that, and he just was not sure what to make of it.
He and Andrea had long left the garden, having slipped through a gate that faced toward the rather un-royal path to the woods. His idea, one brought on by a burning he had, of course, before felt but never really acted upon and the suddenly useful knowledge of things Lake liked to do. Andrea didn't seem to mind; rather she chattered on like a squirrel about a poem she had read that involved a late afternoon wood. Poetry. He had never really met anyone that had appreciated poetry— he didn't care for it himself, but there was something about the way Andrea's face lit, the tiny tilt of her mouth as it curved into a smile. For once, the girl would not be quiet!
Maybe it was a case of fright.
Either way, she let him lead her into the woods, their fingers intertwined like ivy— he wasn't sure when that had happened, but it made him almost sick to his stomach, though in a good way. That was new. Touching a girl before had always been a game, a kick for the two of them as he robbed the poor little lass blind. Not that there hadn't been the lovely ones, ones whose faces had remained in his mind long after he had left them, though it wasn't just beauty. There was more to it all, a certain sparkle in the eye and a dizziness behind his eyes that set his whole body on fire. Andrea, now, was like that.
The path was hardly as mysterious had would have been wildly romantically proper, the thing he had envisioned. Nature, he liked that. Probably because of his mother. Human footsteps just didn't always set the right tone, and an untamed mountainside would have been preferable, allowing Andrea would be able to make it that far. What the woods did allow was suitable enough, and it pleased Andrea. Small pines, powerful in scent, quaking aspens set in as the contrasting white. The path was well-known, well-traveled, and cozy enough in its way. Wild flowers in a rainbow of colors littered the side.
"I love flowers," Andrea said simply. She halted, taking Jay with her as she bent to scoop up what she could. "We... we like to decorate our quarters with them. Until they die and rot all over the place, but I suppose that can't be helped because no one will agree about drying them. Do you like flowers?"
He fought the urge to roll his eyes. The girl sounded like Lake, and he hated the idea of being attracted to someone so very much like his own sister. Smile and nod, he thought. Smile and nod and agree with everything she says. Besides, she was cute, picking flowers like a child. "I love flowers, as well."
She smiled to herself as she tucked the long stems into her pocket, flowers peeking out. "Liar. I have a brother, I told you. Men hate flowers."
This was different. Not so shy.
"No," he protested, tugging her hand as he continued. "I really love flowers. I know that most men don't care about them, but I'm different."
"Then tell me the different kinds, sir." Her soft voice had grown in volume, and something new was twinkling in her eyes as her fingers tightened around his.
"I..." He did not have the slightest idea. Half-fairy he may be, but he had never actually bothered to learn the names of things. Plants were... well, they were, and that was all there was to it. "Things so beautiful should not bare the weight of names."
She laughed, her other hand reaching up to brush the fingers against leaves. "We made a joke, you and I."
He tilted his head to the side. Jokes. Yes, he knew jokes. He had to know them, to survive growing up with Lake. Jokes were what girls loved. He laughed to himself. He had not yet had his chance to be the handsome, charming stranger he was usually. "You know, Andrea, I would not have expected this side of you."
The first flash of fear jolted through her eyes. "What? You don't like it?"
The girl was going to take off like a terrified deer, just like the time by the gate. He sighed, and swung their hands. "What does it matter what I like?"
"Because--" Her face tightened with a momentary glance down, as if to search for more flowers.
Jay wished he could better read emotions when flirtation was not at hand.
Then Andrea's face shot back up, fear gone. "Because, Jay, I never act like this! Not usually! I feel absolutely mad, crazy, and I don't know how else to explain it."
He felt he should say something, but he didn't know what. Didn't matter; this was interesting enough to watch. And rather exciting.
"It's Caroline's fault," she continued. "Caroline mostly, though the other girls helped. You wouldn't believe the drama that goes on inside the servants' quarters. Like we don't have enough to do, which we really don't so I should not say such lies. She will flaunt herself at any man she wants, even if she doesn't want him. You know this well enough. And I love her dearly, she is the greatest, kindest person in the world. But I'm not like her, and she can't understand that. So she inspires me, enchants me, to do something like this."
"And what would you normally do?"
She sighed deeply and glanced up at him with her gorgeous eyes. "I don't know. Pine away in the corners like I always do, imagining you and I together. Not saying a word, not doing a thing."
He laughed. He hadn't even felt the laugh coming, but there it was and there were his arms, fingers pulled from her hand, around her. Oh, yes. This is what he wanted.
She gave a small cry. "Jay!"
"I don't do things like this, either," he replied. "I'm usually terrified of girls."
"Terrified?" Apparently that was not an answer she had expected, and that pleased him. "Are you terrified of me?"
Considering the way he felt right now? He gave another laugh. "Absolutely."
He had never kissed a girl in the middle of the woods before. It was rather nice.
She had to be joking. Hannah had to be joking, playing a game that servants played or something. Palace gossip, something to be found in every household big and small— except for the palace part. But palace meant drama, and this was certainly what it was. Rumors and lies that were not meant at all to crush her like they were doing now.
Hannah still looked sick, still shaken from her apparent run. And from what, exactly, had she been running?
Lake then fought the urge to slap herself, always a good solution to when one was being ridiculous. This was not the time or the place. Caroline was possible dead.
One could not be jealous of a dead girl whose blood was splattered all over royal walls.
She deserved it, the slut.
Though any other time this would have been hilarious, perhaps romantic. Like a fairy tale. A common servant girl sharing a romance with a royal prince.
Hannah was still sniffling into her shoulder, and all Lake could give her was the mildest pat.
She could not believe this. All those dreams about Prince Isaac... useless. At least she knew whom had been the subject of Isaac's tirade.
She had been such an idiot.
No. Girl was dead, a murderer was on the loose, a poor girl had been frightened. She couldn't think about a man she barely knew.
Hyrum sighed and stared at the door as if were something possibly worthy of more interest than a door should be. What had he known about all of this? And... was that a smile? Before she could be sure, he had turned with a solemn frown and a gaze meant only for Hannah. "So... she was meeting His Highness. I'll bet. And that was it. And how long ago was that?"
Hannah shrugged and released herself from Lake's embrace. "I don't know. Not an hour ago."
"Assassin. Probably hired by the king. Didn't like seeing his only son consorting with a servant girl."
Hannah's tears froze, and Lake just stared. A solution for the entire problem right out of the random blue. "What?"
"You heard me."
Ah. Another joke. Or another side of the same one. "That's it? Case solved?" Maybe this was her father's doing. Maybe William had set up the whole game to tease her. Jay had to be involved, if that were the case. No, neither of them would bother going to the trouble of something that did not concern money.
Unfortunately, the guard's face was dead serious. "It makes sense, doesn't it?"
"You don't think royalty can't marry commoners, do you?" Hannah asked softly.
"No, I think they can, but I also think that most won't," he replied flatly.
Of all the stupid things she had ever heard... Lake sighed. "How does that fit the murder of Lord Orson?"
Hyrum did not reply to that. His face tightened as he turned back to the door. "I still stand by my theory. At least it wasn't Little Miss Lake being killed for her gold-making skills."
"But you were just accusing me of that!" She knew that Hannah was staring at the both of them as if they were mad, which of course they had to be, but Lake really did not care what a some servant girl thought.
"Lake, you do realize that a friend of mine is dead. I don't want to discuss this anymore. I've been a coward. I got you to safety, now I need to go after her. Or her murderer, to be more precise. With any luck, she's still alive."
And thus able to explain her affair with the prince. Lake gritted her teeth. Truthfully, her heart wasn't broken— that awareness was something that was clear, but she didn't care. Emotions had rushed at her. What else was she supposed to think.
A mere guard was onto her secret. Isaac was not madly in love with her. His lover was probably dead.
Well, Hyrum was only a mildly handsome guard that had no power. She hadn't had the time to fall madly in love with Isaac. And, well, there was a murderer on the loose.
"I'm coming with you," she said.
Hannah gasped, and Hyrum muttered something under his breath. "Why?"
"Because I'm more useful than a girl who spins gold," she replied, practically pushing Hannah out of the way.
"You're staying right here, both of you." He slammed the door.
Lake looked at Hannah. The girl was just as terrified as when she first entered the library. A wispy little blonde thing with the face of an angel. No wonder she was terrified, the silly thing. "Are you really going after the murderer?"
Either that, or Isaac to kill him. Lake just smiled. "Of course. Care to join me?"
Hannah shook her head. "I'm sorry but... good luck!"
Hyrum had failed to lock the door.
Rebecca hated acting so helpless. It wasn't her, not really, not like everyone thought. Even her parents hadn't noticed. No, not an even. Her parents had always been the last one. The mighty and powerful king and his beautiful and gracious queen. Never any time for their children, least of all their only daughter.
Sometimes she wondered if she were supposed to miss them, where she was out here. Well, she wasn't, and she wasn't going back there anytime soon. Miles away, safety, and no ancient lord to marry.
Rebecca rubbed the last of the tears from her eyes as the gold-spinning girl shut the door behind her. Nice girl, she thought, though had went a little mad over the subject of the Prince and Caroline. Did the girl actually think a prince would want a commoner, even if she could spin gold? She smiled to herself. Yes, that was something she herself believed. Love for love's sake, not for money. She had been most thrilled when the truth of Caroline's romance had reached her own ears. Would that she had that for herself!
She turned to the books behind her. She knew how to read, had read from an early age. That was something her parents had insisted on, a tutor and a governess. A young lady should be educated. It increased the marriage prospects, and a variety of marriage prospects could lead to many an advantage. She had always had a passion for accounts of other lands, histories filled with excitement. Excitement. Maybe that was what had inspired her to runaway in the first place.
That and the rumor that Lord Samuel murdered his brides.
And she believed that. Anyone who would send a murderer after a girl would do anything.
Caroline. She felt a bite at her heart. She hadn't meant for that to happen, but what else was she supposed to do? Lord Orson had vowed to protect her, he had known the risks.
Was she really becoming so heartless as her parents? Not a pleasant thought. She pulled a book off the shelf and opened it. An account of the royal family history. Boring.
It was probably safe to go back outside, though she wouldn't do so until someone came for her. They couldn't stay cooped up forever, none of them. She had seen Prince Isaac's face. Heartbreak. Fear. It had been painful to watch.
If only she could stop shaking. Someone knew she was here.
How long could the guise of Hannah last?