Daughter of Ice and Fire

Forty

"Where the hell could she have gone?"

"Someplace far away, if she's smart."

"Unless she's dead."

"If she were dead, she would have been found. Your father is scouring the countryside. He's raised the bounty and sent every available man to look for her."

"Then what could possibly have happened to her?"

"Averit, I honestly don't know. The girl is not stupid. She's disguised herself so often, her mother probably wouldn't recognize her. You might be the only one who's actually seen her with a full head of hair in its natural color. The King certainly hasn't."

The pair were talking in hushed whispers, standing on the balcony outside Averit's room at the King's Hunting Lodge. He had tried to leave but his father had insisted he remain, claiming he had to be near in case he didn't survive. Averit had glared, seeing the satisfied smirk on his father's face, and stomped out of the room. His father was in no danger of dying from the wound, although he might have a little trouble lifting the arm in the future. This was just another game, one in which the King could make the players dance to his tune.

His father had insisted the other Nobles remain as well. Determined to find out who had ordered the attempt on his life, he refused to believe anyone who tried to tell him the arrow had obviously not been aimed at him and the hit was purely accidental. Of course, the King refused to believe them. Why else would the person who had taken the shot have fled? If it didn't have his name on it, then who was it intended for?

The Nobles had all proclaimed their innocence, Averit lending his voice to theirs. But none offered any suggestion as to who the assassin had been targeting if not the King. He took their silence as confirmation it had been meant for him and while he couldn't torture the other Nobles, he could make their lives extremely difficult until he discovered the truth. While he played at fearing for his life, he set a few of his trusted men to try and discover who had betrayed him.

Averit was ordered to investigate as well, much to his dismay. He did his best to appear as if he was obeying his father's orders while trying not to anger the Nobles. But he often caught Sir Rillson watching him speculatively and did his best to annoy the man. He knew better than to claim the culprit was Sir Rillson, even though he spent long hours trying to concoct some way to make it appear the man was. Frustrated, he had taken to hiding in his room whenever possible and only visited his father when there was no other choice.

Chewing his lip, he looked out over the woods of his father's preserve and wondered where Lihleih had gone. He had been as shocked as the rest by what had happened, but obviously not for the same reason. He had realized immediately she had not tried to kill his father and spent a good part of the afternoon convincing the Nobles of the fact. Sir Rillson had watched him with his sharp beady eyes and Averit got the distinct impression he knew he had been the target. And knew who had been behind it.

The King immediately claimed the wanted criminal was the assassin, despite the lack of any evidence. Averit had chewed the inside of his cheek raw trying to keep from disputing this. Lihleih had warned him she would be blamed, and he had brushed off her concerns. Something he now deeply regretted. He sometimes wondered if she hadn't lied when she told him she didn't love him. He certainly hadn't given her much reason to. He had begun to realize she had been right. He was arrogant. Because every other woman before her had fallen at his feet if he even so much as smiled at them, he had assumed she would also. He was, after all, a Prince. What peasant girl wouldn't fall in love with him? Or so he had believed until he met her. Maybe that was why he had fallen so hard. Why he was making himself sick with worry over her fate. He suddenly realized she had also been right about the rest. He didn't want his father to get his hands on her. If that happened, he wasn't sure he could save her.