The Lost Princess

Chapter 4 || Sealing A Man's Fate

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During the ride, Arabella bounced about, unable to find Fergus's steady pace beneath her. The leather of the saddle creaked with each movement, and the horse's hooves beat a rhythmic tattoo on the packed earth. I sought to hold her closer, easing the motion, yet I knew full well she would feel the horse's strain upon dismounting—and on the morrow, bear the aches. 'Tis a wonder they never schooled her in riding, for 'tis known that all royals are taught to ride with grace.

Many things Arabella knows not, but her desire for knowledge is one I hold in high regard. Guilt gnaws at me for my treatment of her upon her awakening, but I needed to swiftly discern where her heart lay regarding our people's plight. Thus far, my mother's wisdom proves sound. Arabella may yet be our salvation—only time shall reveal the truth.

I smile, recalling the fierce fire that burned within her emerald eyes when I spoke of her ignorance of Eralibaen. She is more strong-willed than I had thought befitting a princess. I had heard tell they were meek and obedient to those about them. Not our Princess. She is truly fitting of the title The People's Queen, I conclude with pride. My arms instinctively tighten about her waist, thickened with proper nutrition. The faintest scent of lavender drifts to my nose as her wild locks catch the wind, tickling my face.

I bring Fergus to a steady trot. Deciding to get to know the beautiful being settled in my arms, I ask, "Tell me, Princess, what did you do all day in that castle?"

I can hear the grump in her voice at the name. I know I shouldn't use it, being that she made her feelings about the term clear, but in the short time I have known her, nothing seems to make me happier than playing with her fire.

"Well, thief," she begins, putting extra emphasis on the nickname she has bestowed upon me. I roll my eyes at her indignation, though she can't see it. "Much of my time is spent reading in the library. It's rather extensive, but I have almost read every book within reach. There are ones on the highest shelves, but Father says those are not for ladies' eyes."

"Aye, but don't tell me that truly stopped you," I reply, feeling the heat radiating off her at being caught. I long to see the look on her face more than anything. "Careful, it seems you're more rebel than you realize."

Her body tenses slightly against mine, and I can almost feel the conflict within her - the proper princess warring with the curious, rebellious spirit I'm beginning to see.

"Perhaps," she says after a moment, her voice soft but with an undercurrent of steel. "Perhaps there's more to me than even I realized."

I nod, though she can't see it. "That, Princess Arabella, is precisely what I'm counting on."

"My turn," she announces with a song of delight, her voice carrying a note of excitement I haven't heard before. It's a far cry from the frightened, defiant princess I first encountered, bound to a post in the forest. The change in her demeanor sends a thrill through me.

"Fair," I reply, unable to keep the smile from my voice. "What do you want to know? I am an open book to you." The irony of my words isn't lost on me. I, Leathan Ashford, rebel leader and keeper of countless secrets, offering myself as an open book to the very princess we've fought so long to reach.

I can feel her contemplation as she decides on what would be the perfect question for her captor and the rebel leader. Her body, warm against mine as we ride, tenses slightly with concentration. I find myself fascinated by this process, watching her mind work even though I can't see her face. The curiosity that burns within her is as fierce as any rebel's determination, and I can't help but wonder if this is what the prophecy meant by "the product of the cause will rise."