A flash of guilt moves through me. I knowexactlywhy he’s suddenly here with me; it has nothing to do with his extensive cellphone charges and everything to do with the deal I made in Linus’ study two hours ago. But I don’t have the heart to correct him.
“Thank you for coming,” I whisper, blinking away tears. “I really can’t believe you’re here.”
“Me? What aboutyou?” he counters, pulling back to look down at me. There’s an undeniable fissure of concern between his narrowed brown eyes. I wince when I spot the small wound by his temple — evidence of his altercation with the guards in the alley.
“God, you’re hurt from where that gun clipped you…”
He shrugs. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. Did you get it checked out? It could get infected or—”
“Ems. I’m fine. I’m more worried about you.”
“You don’t need to worry anymore. Honestly.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to see you’re okay… But what the fuck are you still doing here?” His gaze darts around the kitchen, zeroing in on the ingredients behind me. “Besides, apparently, baking cookies for the goddamn enemy.”
Flinching, I drop my arms to my sides.
“I mean it, Ems. What the hell is going on? I charge in, expecting to find you locked up in some dungeon like a prisoner of war, fighting tooth and nail for your freedom… Imagine my surprise to see you’re perfectly content being kidnapped.”
“That’s not true!”
“Isn’t it?”
“Owen,stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Then explain it to me.
I run both hands through my hair. “It’s complicated.”
“What’s so complicated about it?” he asks. “Grab your shit and let’s get the hell out of here. Away from these people. Back to our life.”
My eyes widen a shade. “I… Owen, I can’t.”
“What the hell do you mean, you can’t?”
I dart a glance behind me at Patricia, who’s down on her hands and knees cleaning the egg yolks off the floor, in plain earshot of every word we’re saying. If I thought there was any chance at all she’d allow it, I’d get down there and help her. I’m wise enough not to try.
“Come with me, okay?” I plead with my best friend, grabbing his limp hand and threading our fingers together. “I’ll explain. Just… not here.”
He stares at me stoically for a moment before returning my hand-squeeze. Calling an apology over my shoulder to Patricia, I lead him out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Foreboding fills the pit of my stomach, weighing me down a bit more with each step we ascend.
Why do I have a feeling I’m about to make an even bigger mess than the one I just left behind on the immaculate kitchen floors?
* * *
It’s a gorgeous autumn day.
The snow-capped mountains behind the manor make a picture-perfect backdrop for our walk through the gardens. Two guards trail us at a respectful distance — mute shadows, ever watchful as we wind a path around topiaries and bubbling fountains. The maze of carefully tended plots is beautiful despite the lack of summer blooms. On any other day, we’d be enjoying the view, laughing and joking about trivial things, sharing stories and making plans for the future.
Today, we are a chasm of deep silence.
He hasn’t said a word since I told him about the deal I made with Linus. I can’t say I blame him. When he arrived earlier, he thought he was here to rescue me. My real life knight-in-shining-armor. Instead, he learned the princess didn’t need any saving. In fact, she’d already struck a deal with the wicked king.
I shiver as the breeze picks up. My light cotton blouse and thin navy pants may be fashionable in the eyes of the palace personal shoppers, but they’re not exactly suited to spending time outdoors in the brisk Germanian climate. I can’t help thinking their decision not to include a coat in my new wardrobe was less an oversight than an intentional move to keep me from straying too far from the manor.
Nice try, assholes.