The Captive Heir

Chapter Four

The next morning, her muscles screamed in protest every time she thought about moving. Every part of her body ached. Beyond the gasp and subsequent groan Elisabet had made upon attempting to get out of her hammock, unprepared for the protest of her body, she refused to make any other noise that might reveal the agony she was in.

The pitiless light in Marie's eyes when she heard Elisabet fighting her way out of the hammock told her that the bandit knew exactly how miserable she was—that it was what Marie had hoped for, even. Any noise she made would only fuel that cruel vindictiveness.

In tense silence Elisabet dressed for the day, ate breakfast, obeyed Marie's directives, her jaw clenched against the temptation to make noise. But when Fitz appeared to escort her back to the dishes, she couldn't repress an instinctive wince. If she was in pain now, what would a second day of that torture do to her body? Her abused hands were already exhibiting proof of the strain, her knuckles chapped and cracked, her nails splitting.

Get control of yourself, she told herself sternly, forcing herself to move. Any sign of weakness and these wolves would devour her. They would think they'd won. Regaining mastery of her expression and trembling limbs, she followed Fitz, fists clenched but lips sealed.

It was a relief to see Caleb waiting for them by the dishes, particularly when he smiled at Elisabet. One friendly face among 50 wasn't much, but it was something—and would counteract Fitz's perpetually dour glare. She did her best to smile back when they reached him.

"Had a good morning, then?" Caleb asked her as he lifted one of the bags and picked up the cauldron.

Elisabet let him take the pot. She was hardly in any condition to pretend to be able to carry it.

"I have no complaints," she said mildly. "Other than being the prisoner of a lot of conscienceless bandits."

She reached for the other bag, but Fitz beat her to it. She couldn't deny it was a relief, despite the glance he shot at her, his eyes piercing through her as though he saw everything she was trying to hide: the painful soreness of her body and the sharp ache of homesickness.

Caleb led the way to the stream, although he glanced back to respond to Elisabet. "I'd imagine that would get anyone down."

Was that a note of sympathy she detected in his voice? Eager to talk to someone, Elisabet continued the conversation, coming abreast of him.

"It could be worse," she said, keeping her tone light. "I do have fresh air and the forest around me. I'm as close to free as I could be, given the circumstances."

Fitz spoke up gruffly from behind them. "You don't miss your ivory tower?"

Elisabet glanced back in surprise. He met her gaze briefly before returning to keeping a watchful eye on the trees, reminding Elisabet painfully of Silvana's constant wariness.

"Of course I miss my home," she answered him slowly. "And my family. But I grew up exploring Esre's woods, and I was traveling through them alone when you caught me." She took a deep breath, relishing the familiar scent of old soil and fallen leaves. "They will always feel like home to me, no matter where I am." Talking was good. It distracted her from her sore legs, even if it made her breathing a little short.

"I've been meaning to ask about that," Caleb said, shifting his grip on the bag. "What was a princess doing in the forest alone? That's not normal, is it?" He glanced back at Fitz, who shrugged. "Even the barons we've caught have had entire retinues with them."

"It's more normal than it used to be," Elisabet said. "The way my mother tells it, her father was going to lock her in a dungeon because he caught her learning swordplay, so she ran away to live in the forest." The wind tugged at her tangled hair. "It's how she met my father—and Princess Maelie, actually. She'd run from an arranged marriage, and the two of them became friends in Telyre." The friendship fairly baffled Elisabet, when the princess said little that ever made sense, but she'd never heard her mother say a word against her. "The friendship continued when they both returned to their lives, and when Princess Maelie's older sister had a son the same time my mother had a daughter, it made sense for everybody to...cement the alliances."