The Princess Pact: A Twist on Rumpelstiltskin (The Four Kingdoms Book 3) Read online

  She had found the rebel camp but the only person she’d managed to locate was Rafe. She sighed. Her heart told her to go searching for her brother, a desire motivated in part by her love for him and in part by her reluctance to meet her supposed father. But she knew that it would be foolish to leave the camp now. She had barely made it this far with the aid of a detailed map. With no idea where to even begin looking, she would be far more likely to die in the forest than find William.

  She turned her mind determinedly away from thoughts of all the disasters that could have befallen him. Perhaps he had been unable to find the rebel camp and, realising his foolishness, had returned to Northgate. Given her own troubles until she found Rafe’s map, it was a real possibility.

  Which left nothing to do but wait around for the rebel leader to return to camp. She sighed again. What would he be like? A charismatic rebel, as Danny and Lisa clearly saw him? Or a monster, like her mother described? And what were his intentions in amassing such an inexperienced and poorly trained army? The whole thing made little sense and seemed as much of a jumble as her own life had become.

  She nearly bit one of her nails until she remembered that she’d beaten the habit years ago. She was determined not to fall apart now.

  A rustling behind her told her that someone else approached the stream. She looked up, hoping it would be Rafe.

  Instead, it was Peter who emerged from the trees, and he wasn’t alone. She examined the faces behind him but could see no sign of Rafe, Lisa, Danny or even Robbie. She recognised a couple of them from the clearing the day before and a couple more from the dining cavern.

  No one was smiling.

  “Good morning,” she said, pasting a smile onto her face.

  Peter crossed his arms and examined her.

  “Is something amiss?” she asked, after a protracted moment of silence.

  “That’s what we’d like you to tell us,” said Peter. “We know Rafe, but we don’t know you.”

  Marie scanned the faces of the small group, looking for any sign of sympathy. A couple of them looked away, as if embarrassed to meet her gaze, but the rest met her eyes with the same grim expression as Peter.

  Her heartbeat sped up. So she wasn’t as safe as she had thought.

  She looked around, hoping Rafe or Lisa would appear, and then remembered her determination from the day before. It was time to start rescuing herself. She stood taller and took a deep breath.

  “How many of you knew each other when you first came to camp?” she asked. “I have as much reason as any of you to be dissatisfied. I spent my whole life serving this kingdom, only to find out that my own family has lied to me and betrayed me. I want the chance to see what alternatives this stranger offers, and I have as much right to be a part of his cause as any of you.”

  She stopped to take another deep breath and noticed several nodding heads. She wasn’t exactly sure where the words had come from, but they had been convincing. She’d nearly convinced herself.

  “What skills do you bring?” asked Peter, his voice still hostile. “Can you hunt or cook or fight?”

  “I can’t fight yet,” said Marie, suddenly remembering her third reason for searching out the rebel camp. “But I’d like to learn. I’m strong and a fast learner. I saw you all training yesterday, and I’d like to join you.”

  Peter looked reluctant, or possibly disappointed at her reasonable answers, but the rest of the group had relaxed.

  “That’s reasonable enough,” said one of the girls, directing her comment at Peter. “How many of us came here knowing how to fight?”

  He looked around at the rest of his group and then capitulated, nodding his head reluctantly. Marie felt like congratulating him. A wise leader read the mood of his group and worked with it rather than against it.

  Still, I’d better keep an eye on him, she thought. If he’s a better leader than I think, he’ll find another way to turn them against me. And if he’s as poor a leader as he appears, he’ll resent this, and by extension me.

  She wondered why he seemed so set against her.

  As the group wandered back towards the caves, she considered the matter further. Or maybe it’s Rafe and the others from Greenwood that he dislikes.

  It made sense that there would be factions in a group like this one. With their true leader gone, they seemed directionless. They certainly lacked the discipline and structure that turned recruits in the royal army into a united whole.

  She chewed on her tongue in substitute for her fingernail as she wondered again what the rebel’s plans could possibly be.

  As they approached the dining cavern, Marie’s thoughts turned towards food. She quickened her pace so that she entered the caves in the midst of the group who had ambushed her at the stream.

  Lisa, Danny and Rafe were just exiting the sleeping corridor, and their looks of concern when they saw Marie and her companions confirmed the idea of factions. She smiled at them to let them know she was fine.

  Rafe smiled back, but concern lingered on his face.

  Marie began plotting how she could arrange a private conversation with him.

  As it turned out, however, no opportunities presented themselves. The combined group ate a quick breakfast, and then Peter announced the morning training session. After her words at the stream, Marie could hardly miss it.

  Some of the young people stayed behind to clean up the food, and Marie assumed these must be the new kitchen volunteers. Everyone else streamed past the armoury and then piled outside into the fresh air, chatting and laughing as they went.

  Marie stuck close to Rafe, Lisa and Danny and picked up a bow and quiver of arrows when Rafe signalled for her to do so. Outside in the clearing, a small group of archers broke off from the rest and headed towards the forest. When they reached the trees, they paused, one of them glancing enquiringly towards Rafe.

  He grinned and shook his head, gesturing towards Marie. The archer, clearly part of a hunting party, shrugged and disappeared amongst the trunks.

  The rest of the rebels divided up into two groups. Those with swords followed Peter to one side of the clearing where they began to pair off. Lisa waved and joined them, the only one of their small band to have chosen a sword from the armoury. Marie remembered that she had been practicing with Peter the day before.

  Everyone who remained held a bow, and Danny was clearly the training master of this portion of the camp. He arranged them in short lines before a number of targets and then began moving amongst them, offering advice and assistance.

  Marie was unoffended to be placed at the back of the line that waited in front of the easiest target. Her only surprise was that Rafe joined her.

  “Don’t tell me you can’t shoot a bow?” she asked.

  Danny, who was assisting the girl at the front of their line, looked up and grinned. “He likes to pretend he’s pretty useless, but all those deer he brings back from the hunting trips suggest otherwise. In fact, I suspect he could easily take over from Peter or myself in training this lot.” He gestured at the foresters around him.

  “Perhaps,” said Rafe, his easy grin surfacing readily. “But that sounds a lot like work.”

  The girl receiving Danny’s help giggled and flashed Rafe a flirtatious look. The girl behind her elbowed the giggler, but Marie noticed that she was stealing glances in Rafe’s direction as well.

  In fact, most of the short line in front of her was female, and none of them seemed to object to Rafe’s joining them, despite his evident skill.

  The majority of the archers were clumped around the most difficult targets, which made sense. Many foresters were trained in the use of a bow from a young age since hunting formed an important part of their livelihood.

  Glancing towards the other group, she noticed the same thing she had seen the day before. The quality of the blades far outweighed the quality of the swordplay. Growing up in a palace, Marie had spent plenty of time watching the guards train. While she had little skill with a sword herself, she k
new what it was supposed to look like. Only Peter appeared to have received any training. It made her wonder about his background.

  She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that this army didn’t look like much of a threat or concerned for the safety of the young foresters. So far, despite Peter, they seemed like a decent group. Marie could see why their families suspected bewitchment. She had no desire to see them all slaughtered by Northhelm’s royal guard.

  As a child, Marie had convinced William to teach her the basics of archery, but she’d had little opportunity to practice in the last few years. Her first shot didn’t even hit the target.

  Rafe laughed, but Marie found it as impossible to be offended with him out here as it had been at the palace. She sighed and frowned. “I thought I was a little better than that.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll whip you into shape in no time.” Rafe handed her another arrow.

  She looked behind her to see if anyone else was waiting to use the target and saw that the others from her line had all moved up to the next target. Obviously, they had only been warming up. She tried not to feel embarrassed.

  Turning her attention back to Rafe, she took the arrow and fitted it in place. He stepped closer.

  “Here, let me help you.” He placed his hands lightly on her hips and corrected her stance before reaching up to take each of her hands in his.

  She tried to focus on his instructions but was instead overwhelmed by the warmth of his arms around her and his smell, a mix of soap and leather and green, growing things.

  She fought an insane desire to tip her head back the short distance required to rest it against his shoulder. He made her feel short and small, and for someone who had always been too big and too tall, it was a heady feeling.

  She closed her eyes for the briefest moment to revel in the sensation, but her mind immediately conjured an image of the giggling girl who had been first in line. Her eyes flew open and her spine stiffened. She might not have been born a princess, but she had been raised as one, and she wasn’t going to melt into a puddle at the feet of a charming boy.

  She tried to ignore the way his breath felt against her ear and instead focussed on his words. She adjusted her grip and, this time, when she let the arrow go, it lodged itself half way towards the centre of the target.

  “Yes!”

  Rafe grinned at her victory cry. “You do know it’s supposed to land on the circle in the middle, right?”

  She glared at him. “Don’t disparage my achievements, thank you very much.” She let one side of her mouth creep upwards. “After all, people might say I had a bad teacher.”

  “We couldn’t have that!” he agreed with mock solemnity. “I guess I’ll have to show you again.”

  When his arms wrapped quickly around her, Marie wondered if he had been looking for an excuse to repeat the exercise. It was an appealing thought.

  But she hadn’t known Rafe long enough to know if he flirted with all the girls. They certainly all seemed willing to indulge him in such activities. Plus, she couldn’t forget that as far as he knew, she was a princess. Perhaps he was simply seizing an otherwise impossible opportunity to embrace royalty.

  She wondered what he would think if she told him she wasn’t really a princess. For some reason, she found the idea appealing. She was dreading telling William the truth, but she was suddenly gripped by an urgent desire to know what Rafe would think of her as just Marie.

  Emboldened by the memory that she was, after all, just one of the girls, she momentarily abandoned her pride. When he leaned in closer to correct her grip, she leaned slightly into his light embrace. At the same time, she let the feeling of warmth he gave her fill her eyes and threw him a sideways smile.

  He drew in a sharp breath and stepped backwards mumbling something about her being ready to try another shot.

  She stared straight ahead at the target, fighting embarrassment. Apparently, she did dignified better than flirty.

  She concentrated fiercely on the arrow and let it fly. It hit the target dead centre.

  Rafe congratulated her, his voice light and friendly, but she barely glanced at him. Walking forward to retrieve her arrows, she resolved to focus. She was here to learn to fight and to discover who she really was. The last thing she needed was a handsome and charming distraction.

  Chapter 13

  Her renewed determination produced excellent results, and by the end of the morning session, Rafe and Danny agreed that she was ready to move up to the next target. Lisa, who had re-joined them, was profuse in her congratulations, and Marie hoped the other girl hadn’t seen her inept attempts at flirting with Rafe.

  After the midday meal, there was a rest period which the two girls spent constructing a pallet for Marie. Lisa also used the time to convince Marie that she should try out a sword.

  When Marie announced that she was joining Lisa at the afternoon training session, Rafe seemed less than enthusiastic about the idea. He offered no protest, however, instead following the lead of the two girls and selecting a blade from the armoury.

  Danny made no comment when he saw that they had all abandoned him, merely raising one eyebrow in Rafe’s direction.

  “I can pair with you, Marie,” said Lisa, but Rafe was already shaking his head.

  “I’ve seen how much you’ve been progressing,” he said to the forester girl. “It’s kind of you, but you won’t learn anything paired with a beginner like Marie. I’ll do it.”

  Lisa glowed at his praise, any resentment she might have felt at his choosing Marie clearly mollified by his words. Marie, however, felt embarrassed again. He clearly felt the need to look after her and was probably wishing her far away.

  She wondered if her presence interfered with his spying efforts. So far, private conversations seemed nearly impossible in the rebel camp, and she wondered again how she could create an opportunity for them to talk.

  By the end of the afternoon training session, however, she was too tired and sore to think about anything but her exhaustion. She had excellent stamina as a rider, but the sword was heavy, and her arm muscles were already strained from her unaccustomed efforts with the bow. Weariness overtook her long before Peter called a halt and only pure determination kept her going.

  Peter had attempted a few verbal jabs at her complete lack of skill, but Rafe had been ready with an easy retort each time, so Peter had quickly decided to simply ignore them. Marie was glad for his absence and grateful to Rafe. He was an excellent teacher.

  They returned their weapons, and Lisa invited her to join the rest of the girls down at the stream.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, correctly reading Marie’s expression. “This is our time and the boys all have strict instructions to stay away.”

  “Does that actually work?” asked Marie, joining the stream of girls heading out of the caves.

  Several of the girls heard her and grinned.

  “It probably wouldn’t,” one of them admitted, “except that lots of us have brothers here. They keep the rest in line.”

  “Not that anyone needs to keep that Rafe in line as far as I’m concerned,” another one said with a dreamy sigh.

  Several of the girls laughed, but none of them contradicted her.

  “He’s easily the most handsome man here,” agreed a third.

  “And the most charming.” Clearly Rafe’s popularity was universal.

  “You’re so lucky to be an old friend. I wish he’d spent the day helping me to hold a bow.” The last comment was directed at Marie, and it took all of her poise and self-control not to blush bright red at the memory of her earlier foolishness.

  “He isn’t spoken for, is he?” asked one of the girls.

  “Um, not that I know of,” said Marie, taken off-guard.

  She looked a little helplessly at Lisa and the other girl laughed at her.

  “Don’t mind us,” she said. “We’re harmless, really. Most of us come from small villages, so we’re just appreciating the opportunity to mingle.
”

  “And admire some new men – yum!” said the first speaker. “Although Lisa here is probably annoyed more than anything. Didn’t Rafe board with your family in Greenwood? And now you have to share.”

  Marie watched Lisa closely to see her response, wondering how attached the other girl felt to Rafe. She liked Lisa, and she didn’t see how it could end well for the forester. Not given Rafe’s real role in the rebel camp.

  But Lisa seemed unbothered by the comments. She shrugged and laughed and said it was worth it for a bit of excitement.

  Her comments went down well with the other girls, who were quick to point out some of the other desirable young men in the camp. The conversation lasted all the way down to the water, and Marie noticed that Danny’s name came up more than once.

  As the group splashed in the shallow stream, Marie revelled in the opportunity for a full wash, as well as the unexpected joy of the company. With every minute that passed, she felt freer. The bored girl in the royal council room seemed impossibly far away.

  ***

  It only took until the next morning for Marie to realise that the attitudes of a lifetime aren’t so easily abandoned.

  She had passed a surprisingly good night on her new pallet and was just rising from the morning meal. Laughing with Lisa and Danny, she turned around and nearly ran into Peter. His arms were crossed and he watched her with a calculating expression.

  “You won’t be joining us for training this morning,” he said.

  “Excuse me?” asked Marie, too surprised to be offended.

  “With the camp expanding, the kitchen volunteers need some help. Since you’re the newest recruit, you need to do a morning shift in the kitchens. Unless you think you’re above such work?” His tone clearly indicated that if she did have any such notion, she would be wrong.

  Marie’s entire body stiffened and she almost opened her mouth to tell him that, as a princess, she was indeed above such work. Then she remembered she wasn’t a princess.

  In the next half second, she felt ashamed. Even if she had still been a princess, it shouldn’t have mattered. In Northhelm, royalty were raised to understand their role as one of service to their kingdom, not superiority.