“Let us go. We could be discovered at any moment.”
“So we may bring the two English knights with us?” Ysabeau was wringing her hands, her brows drawn together.
“If it will make you feel better, you can let them come with us. But if they cause any problems, I will send them away.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll get Jacob and we can go.”
“I’m here.” Jacob had quietly stepped into the room and was standing behind Ysabeau. “Very glad to see you awake, Your Highness.” Jacob bowed.
“Thank you. Come and help me get up.” She was still so weak, though she was rapidly gaining strength in her arms. Jacob was older and getting a bit feeble, but he should be able to help her stand.
But when Jacob pulled her upright, then tried to get her to her feet, she was weaker than she had thought. She collapsed back on the bed like a lifeless doll.
Before Jacob could turn around, Sir Gerard was there, lifting her out of the bed as if she weighed no more than a sack of flour.
“What are you doing? Put me down! I am capable of standing.” But Elyce saw the pained expressions on Ysabeau’s and Jacob’s faces. Perhaps she should swallow her pride and let the knight carry her. She was terribly weak, after all.
He stopped and looked into her face, as if waiting for instructions.
“Very well. I suppose it will be faster if you carry me.”
“Here,” Ysabeau said, pointing to the bookcase. “There is a passageway.”
He carried her toward the wall as Sir Oswalt helped Ysa move the bookcase to one side. Jacob went first and picked up two lanterns that had been hidden just inside the secret passage. He gave one to Ysa.
Sir Gerard moved nimbly, going in sideways so Elyce would not hit her head going through the narrow opening.
The only light, once they closed the opening behind them, would be from the lanterns.
It was odd, being held by this stranger, a man she’d only just met. And he was an impudent one, pinching her nose and putting his mouth on hers. The very idea! No one had ever dared to touch her without her permission, even her physicians. Her only consolation was the shocked, then sheepish look on his face when she opened her eyes and reprimanded him.
But the sheepish look had lasted only a moment, and he’d been unrepentant afterward, claiming he was reviving her. The fact that she had woken at that very moment was only a coincidence.
She couldn’t remember anyone ever carrying her, though she must have been carried as a small child. His arms felt almost as hard as steel, his chest just as immovable. One hand was holding her leg, as that arm was under her knees, and his other hand gripped her armpit, but not so tightly as to cause pain. His face was only the span of a hand from hers. He kept his eyes straight ahead.
It was more difficult with every passing moment to keep her head erect and away from his body. Finally, though hating her weakness, she let her head rest against his shoulder.
If she had to be beholden to a man, at least he was young and handsome. Even in the light of Jacob’s lantern, his features were appealing, his beard and mustache trimmed, and his hair an acceptable length. His jawline was appropriately masculine without being brutish, and his cheekbones were high without being sharp. He was very handsome.
In spite of the fact that she did not care for him at all.
* * *
Princess Elyce rested her head on Gerard’s shoulder, though he sensed how reluctant she was to do so. The haughty princess must be quite weak to lay so limp and still in his arms.
“This passage,” Jacob was saying, “leads to a hidden stable that very few people know about, and we will find enough horses for us there.”
“Where will we be riding to?”
“My sister’s house,” Jacob said. “Just as a place for the princess to rest for a day or two, to get her strength back.”
Gerard wanted to ask what the plan was after that, how the princess hoped to use her disappearance to help her people avoid forced labor in the Valkenfeld mines. What could they do? Appeal to other more powerful allies of Montciel? Or perhaps enlist help from one of King Claude’s enemies?
“How soon will they discover that the princess is missing?” Gerard asked.
“It could be any moment,” Jacob replied.
Gerard could hear Ysabeau’s and Sir Oswalt’s footfalls just behind him. He glanced down at the princess but couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or not.
“Are you well?” he said quietly.
“Yes. The effects of the sleeping potion are slowly wearing off. I will be well enough to ride, I am sure.”
How could she be strong enough to sit on a horse when she could not even hold her head up? Well, no sense in arguing with her. No doubt her pride was injured already. And he could tell by the slight edge in her voice that she did not entirely trust him.
He might have expected a princess to react thusly, used to having her own way, used to being treated as if she were made of something delicate and breakable. He needn’t care what she thought of him. He was only doing what he felt God had told him to do. Though her lack of appreciation for his help did goad him like a burr in his shoe. If there was one thing that irritated him, it was someone who could not be thankful, even when someone else was sacrificing for them.
The narrow passageway suddenly ended at a wrought-iron gate, beyond which was a bit of natural light. Jacob unlocked the gate and pushed it open, holding it for the others.
Gerard maneuvered through the opening, careful not to let the princess’s feet catch on the sides of the gate. Elyce’s head was still against his chest, her whole frame having sunk lower in his arms while he walked.
Ysabeau hurried through the small stable, which was empty except for a few horses. It looked as if it had been hewn out of the rock.
“Is this stable underground?” He noticed some light coming through a window that was just higher than his head.
“Half underground,” Ysabeau answered and grabbed a saddle.
She, Oswalt, and Jacob began saddling horses, but he didn’t want the three of them to saddle four horses without any help from him, so he looked around for a place to set the princess.
“Put me down over there,” Princess Elyce said, lifting a shaky finger and pointing. “I can stand against the wall.”
He was not at all sure she could stand, but he did as she bade. He set her feet gently on the floor, still holding her upright as she leaned her shoulder against the wall.
“I am well.”
He waited to make sure she didn’t fall over, then went to help the others.
What had he gotten himself into? A haughty princess with a half-cooked idea to avoid marrying someone. What was he supposed to do with her? Where were they supposed to go?
God, are You sure I’m meant to be here?
Five
Elyce leaned against the wall of the stable. Her hand shook as she brushed the hair back from her eyes. She should have braided it to get it out of the way, but she didn’t have the strength for even such a simple endeavor as plaiting hair. And now that Sir Gerard had left her leaning against the wall of the stable, bereft of his body heat, she was shivering.
God, help me get my strength back.
She had prayed about this plan of hers, had asked God to help her, to keep her alive, which He had done—Thank You, God—and yet here she was, weak and shivering, the plan having gone awry, with only Ysabeau, Jacob, and two strangers to help her. It was humiliating. If her father and her other relatives had taught her anything, it was that she should never appear weak, never show emotion, because she was a princess and she had to at least pretend to be above those things. It was her responsibility to be strong.