The Captive Heir

Chapter One

It was the fire that sealed her fate.

Elisabet Mackay Findlay, princess of Citak and future crown princess of Esre, had prepared for everything. Had spent weeks gathering supplies and knowledge, months preparing her parents for her absence, and years of forays into the forest with the Gemmaros, her relatives in heart if not by blood, all for this one trip. This one adventure.

And with that little fire, it had all disappeared like a single lost ember.

She had only built it to ward off any predators lurking in the trees, unnerved by the howls that seemed to be growing closer as the light vanished from the forest. The fire was tiny, barely sufficient to warm the area she had cleared for it. Gave barely enough light for her to see the dark eyes that appeared across the space, meager flames reflecting there as an unholy flicker.

Elisabet froze, her muscles seizing in terror.

She had said goodbye to Skylar and Silvana that morning, had walked miles from home in the past three days, to reach this last stretch along the Esre-Trenoriah border. Where no one was supposed to be.

And yet, there was a woman watching her.

How had she not heard her approach? How had she allowed herself to be caught so easily? She had only closed her eyes for a few minutes before she had given up on sleep and sat back up.

The Esren forest was safe, far safer than it had been even a generation ago, when bandits lurked beyond every tree and the army was constantly stealing food from its own people. But when Elisabet was more than a little lost, without even the light of the sun to indicate which direction was best, when she could see nothing beyond shadows, her imagination glad to fill in the blanks in the menacing twilight, it did not feel safe. And with this strange woman watching her, still as death, it did not look safe, either.

It took all of her strength to force herself to take a deep breath and hide her terror. Silvana had nagged her enough—fear would only be a weapon used against her. She needed to appear calm and force herself to think, and she might survive.

"You're a long way from home," the woman watching her said. Her voice was amused, with just a hint of languor—as though she had all the time in the world—and as earthy as the fire that separated the two of them.

Elisabet wasn't sure how she gathered the courage to reply, but somehow she did. "I am exactly where I mean to be," she said. Moving carefully, she sat up and drew her feet up beneath her. She needed to be ready for defense or flight.

"Is that so?" the woman said.

Her eyes flickered to the trees behind Elisabet; the princess resisted the urge to glance back herself. There was no telling what might happen if she let her guard down now. Skylar had warned her so many times against it. If she got herself killed, she would only disappoint them. Silvana would likely spit on her grave rather than mourn her.

The woman tilted her head, considering. "Sure I can't point you in the right direction?" she offered.

"I doubt it," Elisabet said warily. She did not trust this stranger's kindness.

The woman smiled at her reply. "No towns around here. At least, not this side of the border."

"So the border is nearby," Elisabet murmured to herself, needing the reassurance. She had been traveling in the right direction, despite the way the path had disappeared under her feet. Even four decades later Skylar and Silvana were too bound by the terms of their exile to risk being within half a day's distance of the border to Trenoriah, and had trusted Elisabet to make it the rest of the way to Etudel on her own. That trust had been misplaced, but she would finish the journey in the morning. She was still close enough to make it.