Hereafter (The Lost Princesses Book 3) Read online

  “The princess,” Dante and I said at the same moment.

  I had the sudden picture of her sinking beneath the peat, unable to get out, and my heart took up a new rhythm: a drumbeat of fear.

  “It’s too dangerous for all of us to go in,” I shouted as I urged my horse to the bend in the grass. “Dante and Alaric will come with me. The others will stand guard.”

  I was off my horse and crashing into the bog as soon as my feet landed.

  “Your Highness, let Alaric lead,” Dante said motioning toward one of the other strong knights who’d come with me from Warwick.

  I shook my head curtly, easily locating Emmeline’s prints in the muddy grass.

  “His family’s estate borders Warwick’s central bogs,” Dante said breathlessly from behind, “and he knows the dangers—”

  Before the words were out of his mouth, I slipped, then tripped, and found myself already up to my knees in watery moss, my feet sinking fast in layers of mud and thorny brambles. The ground seemed to suck at my legs like dozens of leeches, a pulling and stinging that tore the breath from my lungs.

  I only had to think of Emmeline in the same situation to jolt myself out of my pain-induced stupor.

  “Grab on to my belt, Your Highness.” Dante had swiftly shed his belt and tossed it out to me.

  I caught it but had sunk several more inches to my thighs.

  Alaric was already in action as well, tugging at the belt. “The only way to break free from the suction is to twist your body at the same time we heave you upward.”

  Together Dante and Alaric pulled while I swiveled, attempting to turn like a cork in a bottle top. I gritted my teeth against the pressure, until finally the bog released me, flinging me into Dante and toppling him backward onto Alaric.

  We picked ourselves up, and I motioned Alaric ahead of me.

  “Your legs, Your Highness?” he called over his shoulder as this time he led the way.

  I waved off his concern even though I could feel the trickle of blood beneath my breeches and boots from where sharp thorns had scraped me. For now, all I could think about was Emmeline drowning under a blanket of peat and moss, the pain she would be experiencing, and her desperation to fight her way free.

  Alaric picked up his pace, rounding brush and hopping over areas of grass that looked harmless but were death traps.

  Another scream resounded in the bog, this one closer and most definitely Emmeline’s. The note of agony within it told me she was suffering greatly. My pulse thundered at a frantic tempo that was unfamiliar from my usual calm.

  At the edge of a particularly soggy area, Alaric stopped short. I bumped into him and had to grab him to keep him from sprawling into a patch of watery moss.

  “There.” He pointed to what seemed to be an island in the middle of a lagoon. “She’s there.”

  I followed his finger, and at the sight of her tangled in a mess of vines and hanging upside down by her feet from a tall spruce, my stomach lurched up into my throat. She was slashing at the vines with a dagger, which she must have pilfered from someone on her way out of camp. But with each slash she made against the tangle, the vines wrapped tighter around her.

  “It’s a sundew,” Alaric said in a grave tone.

  Sundews were known for catching insects and small mammals and dissolving them for nutrients. But I’d heard hunters’ tales of sundews big enough to trap boars. There were even tales of sundews tangling and killing hunters too. I had to free her now before the vines squeezed the life from her.

  But how could I get to her with a lagoon surrounding her?

  “Emmeline!” I called.

  Her head twisted toward me. “Rex!” Her voice sounded taut, as though she couldn’t get enough air. “Help me!”

  “How did you get over there?” My gaze landed upon a dozen different routes but discarded each as too risky.

  She tilted the tip of her knife upward to the spruce that intertwined with a tree closer to us. She didn’t have to say anything more for me to understand that she’d thought to bypass the threat of the lagoon by taking to the trees within the bog. But in doing so, she hadn’t been prepared for the whiplike vines of the sundew.

  Dante was already leading the way to the base of the spruce closest to us. “You’ll need to cut her free, Your Highness, while we prevent sundew tendrils from catching you.”

  I wasted no time in scaling the trunk, climbing onto a gnarled branch that led above the lagoon. I didn’t look down, but for the first time that I could remember, cold fear gripped me. Fear not for myself but for Emmeline. Fear that she could have fallen, fear that she could have disappeared without a trace, fear that she was even now suffocating and that I wouldn’t get to her rapidly enough.

  The instant I stepped onto the opposite spruce bough, it sank under my weight. In the same moment, a sundew cord whipped out and would have knocked me off, except that my reflexes were sharp, and I slit the vine in two pieces before it could catch me.

  I kept moving, scooting slowly along the branch until I finally reached the trunk of the opposite tree and caught sight of Emmeline’s boots and skirt twisted among vines. She was still trying valiantly to rend herself free, wielding her blade expertly, but she was already too entangled.

  I slipped to a lower limb and prayed it would hold my weight. “Cease thrashing.”

  She grew motionless.

  Above and behind me, came the sounds of Dante and Alaric hacking and chopping, protecting me as best they could from the same fate as Emmeline. Even so, something slithered around my ankle.

  From my periphery, I found the source and severed the vine in a backward thrust only to have to fight away another wrapping around my upper arm. How could I free Emmeline if I was struggling to save myself?

  I followed the trail of the tendrils until I found what I was looking for. “Dante, up there.” I nodded upward. “Slit the sundew at that large knob.”

  He started in that direction only to have a vine whip out at him and slash him across the back. Even with his chain mail hauberk protecting him, he stiffened momentarily against the pain but didn’t let it stop his climb as Alaric severed the vines creeping up from below.

  I fought off more vines that came at me swifter than arrows in flight. Bracing myself against the trunk, I parried the climbing plant with my sword while hacking with my dagger at the strands holding Emmeline prisoner. Pieces of the sundew fell away and drifted below into the lagoon, disappearing from sight—a result that gave me pause.

  If I continued to cut away the vines, how could I keep Emmeline from plummeting headfirst into the deadly waters?

  As if sensing her plight, Emmeline seemed to gather her last reserves of strength. With an unladylike grunt, she twisted her body and propelled herself into motion like a pendulum on a clock. Nearing the trunk, she thrust out her dagger and attempted to stick it into the tree but only managed to scrape the bark before her momentum took her back the other way. Thankfully, on the second try, her knife stuck.

  “Push it in more!” I chopped at Emmeline’s bindings and continued to fight the sundew intent upon chaining me.

  She shoved harder, but with the plant wrapped so tightly around her arms, I sensed she’d reached the last of her strength and had no more left to give. Even if she could wedge the knife deeper, I doubted it would hold her weight.

  Keeping an eye on Dante’s slow climb, I tried to inch closer to Emmeline. I needed to come up with a better plan. At the sight of a thick strand swinging toward me, my mind spun into action. I held out my left arm. The moment the slithering plant made contact and began wrapping around my sleeve, I released my grasp on the trunk and let myself fall. The vine acted as a rope as I swung toward Emmeline, grabbed her around the waist, and pulled myself to her, twisting around her as I slammed into the tree.

  With her securely in my grasp, I shouted up at Dante. “Now! Cut now!”

  Holding Emmeline, I shoved against the tree and pitched us both back out over the open lagoon toward
solid ground. With Dante’s cut at the source, the pressure of the vines loosened their hold on Emmeline.

  Praying the vine around my arm would hold fast a few seconds longer, I leaned forward as we swooped near the land. Then, using the last of the momentum, I leaped. The sundew finally fell away, and I slammed into the hard earth, bringing Emmeline down on top of me to cushion her.

  The impact drove the air from my lungs. For an eternal second, I couldn’t breathe or move. If Emmeline had wanted to kill me at that moment, I would have been helpless to defend myself. But she only seemed to burrow into me, her entire body quivering.

  I wrapped an arm around her to shelter her, alert once more for any other danger that lurked near us. We’d missed falling into the lagoon only by inches. From what I could tell, Dante and Alaric were safe but now battling against a new set of vines attempting to trap them.

  “Are you hurt?” I pulled back slightly, only to have her wrap her arms around my neck and cling to me. Though her chest heaved rapidly with the effort of her breathing, she managed to shake her head.

  Her hair had come loose during her struggles and now lay in tangled strands down her back, spilling across my body and even onto my face. The dark silk was as long and wavy as I’d imagined it would be.

  I rose to my feet with Emmeline in my arms, knowing I needed to set her down and aid my men. However, before I could force myself to release her, Dante jumped the distance while Alaric followed, wielding their weapons expertly to fend away any further entanglements.

  Without waiting, Dante took the lead, and we set out at a fast pace. I didn’t breathe fully until we broke free of the bog and mounted our horses. Once we were on our way, all I could think about was how close Emmeline had come to death, and I realized my insides were quavering almost as much as she still was.

  With the sun now high in the sky, I pushed hard, driving our mounts to a gallop. We’d lost precious time, time that would now put us within easy distance of the rebel search party, who would likely stop at nothing to steal the princess away from me. And while my men were exceptional warriors, I knew I couldn’t underestimate the strength of the queen’s people.

  As we rode, Emmeline’s grip around my neck remained tight. But I didn’t mind. In fact, I rather liked the sensation that she needed me. When finally we reached the rest of our men at the site of the previous night’s camp and I started to dismount, she lifted her head from my shoulder. Although she’d stopped shaking, her eyes were wide and dark and full of fear.

  “Thank you for saving me,” she whispered.

  I nodded, wanting to admonish her never to try something so foolish again, but I suspected once she recovered, she’d continue attempting to escape. All the more reason to win her affection so that she would want to stay with me. But how could I make her like me enough to put aside her plans to leave?

  The men I’d left behind were anxious to depart, our supplies packed and their horses at the ready. They informed me that while I’d been gone, Magnus had taken two guards and had set off for Delsworth.

  I could only imagine what Magnus would tell the king, likely giving him the worst of the details and leading him to believe I’d lost Emmeline.

  “Your Highness,” Dante said with a bow. “Shall I hold the princess while your wounds are tended?”

  An open slash across his cheek told me he’d suffered injuries of his own, as had Alaric. And how many lashes had Emmeline sustained from the sundew whips? I pulled back and attempted to assess her. Her skirt and bodice were sliced open in several places, exposing red welts. Her wrists and the skin showing at her shirtsleeves revealed bruises. I suspected her ankles and legs were the same.

  “We shall tend the princess’s wounds and be on our way,” I said.

  “But, Your Highness—” Dante glanced pointedly at my lower legs.

  Only then did the princess squirm and push away from me, giving me no choice but to set her on her feet. Tousled, almost wild, she was more beautiful than ever, making my breath stick in my chest.

  I didn’t move as she knelt in front of me and examined my legs. My encounter with the waterlogged peat and the thorny brambles underneath had torn patches of my breeches away, along with layers of my skin so that places were open and oozing blood.

  She tossed Dante a commanding look. “I need clean water, bandages, and salve—if any can be found among the provisions.”

  Dante and Alaric scurried to do her bidding even as she turned her attention back to my breeches, fingering the gashes and the blood that had seeped into the linen. “You must sit down and let me doctor your wounds.”

  “No. We shall take care of yours first.”

  “Mine are nothing compared to yours.”

  I waved dismissively and took a step back.

  She grabbed my tunic and glared up at me. “Let me at least wash away the dirt.”

  We’d lose more time. Perhaps that’s what she was counting on.

  Her expression softened. “I promise I’ll hurry.” All traces of hostility were gone from her eyes. Instead, the brown was warm and beckoning and melted my reserve.

  I hobbled over to the nearest boulder, lowered myself, and began rolling up my breeches. A moment later, she pushed my hands away and slid the linen up herself, careful not to brush against the gashes.

  By the time she’d exposed the bottom half of my legs, Dante, Father Patrick, and another young soldier who was an expert at medical remedies convened with the necessary supplies. When the young soldier knelt next to Emmeline, she took charge, giving him no choice but to watch.

  She worked swiftly, keeping her promise. And yet at the same time, her fingers were gentle, the contact of her hands against my legs making me forget about the sting of my injuries. As she finally rose and examined one of the slashes above my knee, I couldn’t take my eyes from her.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “’Tis my fault,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t have gone into the bog.”

  She shouldn’t have run away at all. But I swallowed my retort and said nothing.

  Her fingers moved from my knee to a spot just above it. And as she traced the ragged rip of my breeches there, her touch was like fire and ice, burning my skin and freezing me at the same time. I sucked in a breath.

  At my intake, she met my gaze again. From the innocence of her expression, I guessed she wasn’t aware of the intimacy of her touch or how it could affect a man.

  “I should treat your other wounds too,” she said, grazing another spot slightly higher.

  I caught her hand and slipped my fingers into hers, preventing her from embarrassing both of us in front of my men. “We need to go.” Before she could pull away or protest, I brought her hand to my lips and laid a kiss just above her knuckles.

  Thankfully, my men took that as their cue to busy themselves and give me a moment of privacy with Emmeline.

  As I let my lips linger, her eyes widened again, as though seeking to understand the meaning behind such a kiss. I refused to look away, holding her gaze and silently communicating the desire she awoke within me.

  During my time at court, I’d always had women following me and hanging on to my every word. I’d never learned to be charming or winsome, had never needed such skills. But now I wished I knew more.

  When Emmeline’s lashes fell and a flush moved into her cheeks, a small measure of satisfaction pooled in my chest. Perhaps there was some hope I could woo her and that she wouldn’t resist me forever. I was tempted to kiss her again, this time on the thumping pulse at her wrist.

  Even as I chastised myself not to do so, a shadow circled around our camp—the long wingspan and the strong body of a bird of prey. Shielding my eyes from the sun, I peered up to the gliding form of a harpy eagle. My men stopped to watch it too, recognizing it as the harpy eagle that belonged to the queen’s search party.

  My muscles tensed, and I stood abruptly, putting an end to my attempt at winning Emmeline. How soon before the rebel party was upon us? Were they
even now closing in?

  Without further ado, I picked Emmeline up. “We must mount and be on our way immediately,” I called to the men as I strode to my warhorse.

  “I can walk, you know.” Emmeline’s arms wound around my neck. “I don’t need you carrying me everywhere.”

  “You have left me no choice but to keep you with me every second of every minute of every hour.”

  “Every second?” She gave little resistance to my hold and even seemed to nestle further against me.

  “I shall not let you out of my sight again.”

  “You will tire of watching me eventually.”

  “I guarantee that will never happen.” I was surprised when my voice dipped low and even more surprised when the flush reappeared in her cheeks.

  Again, warm satisfaction settled inside and spread.

  When she was securely ensconced in the saddle in front of me, I slipped my arm around her waist and drew her back. She held herself stiffly for only a moment before giving way and reclining into me.

  I fully realized the battle for her heart was still in the early stages. Even so, I couldn’t help feeling as though I’d won a small victory.

  Chapter

  9

  Emmeline

  After another day and night of riding hard with only small breaks from the saddle, my body hurt in more places than I’d thought possible—particularly where the sundew vines had wrapped around my limbs, turning my skin shades of purple and blue.

  “Are you comfortable?” Rex’s voice rumbled close to my ear, making my stomach flip, as it seemed intent on doing whenever I was near him.

  I’d just spent the past long hours riding with Dante so that Rex’s horse might have a break from the extra burden of my weight.

  During our most recent stop when we’d reached the East Sea, Rex had switched me to his mount. I didn’t want to admit I’d been anticipating the changeover, but now that I shared the saddle with him, I couldn’t deny my attraction.

  The feeling had nothing to do with how strong and handsome he was, I told myself. It was because I’d witnessed how good and considerate he was, not only to me but to everyone. Even when he was strict and disciplined and commanding, he never failed to put the needs of others above his own.