The Princess's Servant

22. The Catch

"Good," she replied. "Put this on." The princess withdrew a silver ring that was roughly the diameter of a small watermelon. Holden wondered if it might be a small crown, or really what it was at all, but then he noticed the fine chain it was attached to.

"No," he said. "Nuh-huh. I'm not doing that." The prince took a step back.

The princess smiled. "Come on," she pressed. "For me?"

"Princess, you have asked me to do many things that were well outside of my comfort zone, but this is too far," he said. "I refuse."

The princess rolled her eyes a little. "What, so asking you to risk your life for a basket of apricots was better than this?"

"Yes."

"And making you sit in an insect-filled room, you'd rather do that again?"

"Absolutely."

"You're being dramatic," Sybil said, sticking out the metal ring.

He shook his head and stepped away from it. "No, I'm not. I really don't want to do that."

The princess dropped the ring to her side with a sigh. "You understand that there's a reason to this," she said. "That I can't trust you to go into the woods without attempting escape. I can't even say I blame you for it. I'd do the same thing," she said.

Holden said nothing at these words.

The princess sighed again and took the ring in her hands. She traced the silver band with her thumbs. "Fine," she said. "Then we go back. I'll have Marcus pick you up and bring you to your cell. And I will go by myself." The princess turned and started back down the path.

The Wardian prince felt a new kind of dread well up in his stomach. It was the type that was born in the chasm between What He Wanted to Do and What He Knew He Would Do. Holden lowered his head.

"Stop," he said, and the princess obliged. He was in awe of himself that he'd go this far for freedom, but this is what it had come to. He held out his hand.

The princess turned and looked at it. She felt the cold metal burn beneath her fingertips. She took a few steps closer to him and she handed him the hoop.

Holden took it in his hands. If this was the price of freedom, then so be it. As soon as they were into the woods — as soon as she felt safe — he would confound this contraption. And then, he would never see her again.

No, he thought, holding that cold metal still. He would see her again. He would see her again on the stands on the Wardian court. This would not be their last interaction. Once he escaped, he would return with an army, and he would make her answer for her crimes.

Holden opened the ring's latch and he place it around his neck. The princess handed him a tiny lock, which he took, and he threaded its hook through the little metal holes that had been crafted for this purpose. He imagined the princess asking the blacksmith for something like this and wondered what their reaction had been. He wondered when she had asked for this. Was it a day ago? A week ago? A year?

He locked the metal ring with a click and stared down at his feet. He could feel the chain tug ever so slightly as it dangled between his neck and its twin attachment at the princess's belt. He did not glare at her with the promise of revenge — that was a promise he made only to himself.

Though he did not look at her, he could tell that she was not smiling. He found himself in slight surprise of her disinterest and at a total loss for the cause. But the princess didn't give him time to contemplate her reasoning; she simply leaned a little to the left and gave another subdued "come on" as she — and by extension he — began down the dark forest's path.

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