“My children.” Fear filled her face. “Where are my children?”
I stepped away from the door. “Safe. They’re safe.”
She flung open the door and disappeared inside. For a second there was silence and then a boy’s voice cried, “Mama.” Scrambling sounds followed, like children crawling out from under a sofa, and childish sobs from Rose.
I closed my eyes. They were alive. The children were alive and so were Alyssa and her husband. And so was I. When it most mattered, I had succeeded. I had proven the most important quality of any princess—her willingness to sacrifice herself for others. But I felt no great swell of accomplishment. If I hadn’t made so many mistakes, it might never have come so close to disaster.
Chapter 27
Arms wrapped around me, and a voice murmured in my ear. Philip’s familiar presence brought me back to the moment. My eyes flew open.
“Damon! It was all Damon. Where is he?”
He’s trying to run. Arvin sounded strangely matter-of-fact about it. You seem to be injured.
“Never mind that,” I said. “It’s only a shallow cut.”
Philip swung around, still cradling me with one arm, careful not to touch the gash which still seeped blood. Together we looked for the prince in the chaos of the shattered ball. Many people had fled the room, but many more still remained, pressed against the walls.
The enemy guard who had surrendered to Philip knelt beside the dais, one of his companions beside him, and a row of Arcadian guards in front of them. But the others still fought in the distant doorway, their swords clashing with the weapons of another contingent of Arcadian guards.
I had a single glimpse of Damon before he drove his sword into a guard, leaping over the man as he fell and running out the door. Philip let go of me, retrieving his sword from where he had apparently discarded it on the ground, and ran across the throne room.
More guards poured into the room from somewhere. The king appeared and directed them toward the struggle at the doorway. He and the queen hurried in our direction, however, their concerned eyes on their son who still stood on the dais. But Max didn’t wait for them. He was looking around wildly, so I caught his eye and pointed through the doorway behind us.
He took the steps in a single leap, pausing beside me to clap me on the shoulder. Gratitude filled his eyes as they rested on me for a moment, and then he disappeared into the room beyond.
“You should go too,” I said to Arvin. “You might help distract the children. They liked you.”
It is true that it is difficult to be fearful or downcast in my presence, the horse said. Please endeavor not to collect any more wounds in my absence. He trotted off toward the doorway, everyone giving him a wary berth.
King Henry and Queen Eleanor reached us, the queen following immediately after her son. The king paused, however, to give me a puzzled look. But he had seen his son’s gesture, and apparently that was enough to prevent him ordering my immediate re-arrest.
“It was Damon the whole time, Your Majesty,” I said. “He was behind everything. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. But they’re all safe.” I pointed at the doorway. “Back there.”
The king looked toward the door but turned to his guards.
“Bring those men,” he ordered, pointing at the two kneeling by the dais.
He didn’t wait to see if he was obeyed, hurrying away toward the entrance to the throne room. I followed behind. I needed to find Philip.
The fighting had finished by the time we reached the doorway. Two injured Arcadian guards were being assisted by several of their fellows, cursing creatively until they caught sight of their king and fell silent. A third casualty, wearing Damon’s uniform, lay still and unmoving on the ground. Damon himself and the rest of his men were gone.
King Henry paused for a brief word with the injured guards before continuing through to the large entryway. There was still no sign of Damon or his men, so the king didn’t stop, and I stayed at his heels.
We paused in the doorway of the palace, gazing down into the yard. People filled it in every direction. Nobles, having fled from the ball, crowded together in clumps. A whole crowd of servants massed on the side near the stables and the servants’ wing, apparently having come running from their own festivities at the rumor of battle.
Philip stood in front of the open gates, a small number of guards beside him. They faced Damon and his men, the only barrier between them and escape.
“Close the gates!” shouted the king. “Close the gates!”
The gatekeeper, stirred to action by his king’s voice, sprang forward. Several servants raced to help him, the heavy gates swinging slowly closed.
I could hear Damon’s curses from all the way across the yard. He looked disheveled and dirty, his elegant clothes torn. How had I been so taken in by him?
I expected him to make a desperate lunge for the closing gap between the gates, but he took off across the yard, aiming for the opposite side of the palace to the gathered servants. His men were only steps behind him. Philip and the guards were taken by surprise, however, giving Damon precious seconds of advantage.
Without thinking, I jumped down the stairs and ran to intercept him. But, as I neared the place where I could block his passage, I remembered I no longer held a weapon.
Damon didn’t even see me, his entire focus on escaping around the palace, although I didn’t know where he thought he could go after that. I could hear the king behind me, issuing a stream of orders, and more guards were arriving in the yard at every moment, recalled from their participation in the servants’ festivities.
Damon put on a spurt of speed, leaping ahead of me. But a man rounded the corner just as he did so, the sword in his hand indicating he was a guard, despite the lack of uniform. The prince, more focused on speed than defense, cursed and tried to swerve around him.
The guard, caught by surprise, made a wild lunge. Damon’s swerve nearly carried him past the attack, but the sword caught on his leg, cutting a deep gash. But no blood spurted out. The cloth had been torn apart, and I could clearly see as his skin closed back over. The prince barely faltered, continuing on his dash for the park.
I stopped, my mouth dropping open. Impossible. The guard also faltered, his sword hanging loose at his side as he stared after the fleeing Damon. The prince’s men streamed past us both, intent on their leader.
I turned to look at the guard. “Did you see that?”
He nodded slowly, holding up his sword. We both saw the red at its tip. We hadn’t imagined the injury. More guards hurried past us, these ones a mix of uniformed and non-uniformed Arcadians, and the guard shook himself and joined them.
Philip appeared beside me and gently took my arm in his. At the soft touch, stinging pain rushed to the forefront of my mind, no longer driven back by the intensity of the moment.
“We need to get that injury treated,” he said.
The king appeared beside us. “You may return with me to the throne room. I don’t understand what’s happened, but I sent for a doctor to check over my family. I’m sure they can tend to your wound as well. I want a full accounting of what transpired here.”
I nodded, swaying a little on my feet now the excitement had passed. Philip slipped his arm around my shoulders to support me.