Arriving in Wellmore village, Sir Hugo drapes his enormous cape over me, hiding my hands in the iron cuffs.
I’m grateful for his cape, I haven’t got my olive-green cloak, and I’m freezing.
Villagers stop in their tracks and stare at me with wonder and amazement.
‘Her eyes!’ Someone shouts.
‘It’s the Forest Princess!’ Others exclaim.
‘Such beauty!’ Someone else adds.
The crowd forms around us, and Sir Hugo’s blocking our passage.
‘Move! Out of my way!’ Sir Hugo demands.
The crowd doesn’t move, and more people gather.
‘Maia?’ Vivian shouts, and I watch her push her way through the gathering.
‘Vivian!’ I yell, in obvious distress. Many people stare at Vivian and wonder how we know each other.
‘Are you okay?’ She asks.
‘I’ve been kidnap-,’ I say. A sharp blade pokes my back in a warning to not speak.
‘I have the Forest Princess!’ Sir Hugo announces, and the crowd cheers. ‘Her powers will protect us from the werewolves and help us win the war!’ I’m shocked by Sir Hugo’s announcement. The crowd roars and cheers triumphantly. Some bow, thanking me, while some gently touch my feet and legs.
‘Sir Hugo, please. Please, stop. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Please don’t tell them that,’ I beg.
I look at Vivian, who looks more and more concerned by the second.
‘King Fenris has offered permanent lodgings to our Forest Princess at his castle. So, move along, and spread the word: with our strong army and the Forest Princess, we will lead a victory!’ He yells.
Everyone, but Vivian, cheers wildly, and people move out of the way. Villagers hand Sir Hugo bread, cheese, wine and other food. He accepts their offerings and puts them in his saddle pack behind him. The thoroughbred leads us through the rest of the village, uninterrupted.
‘Shadowguard is a few hours away. We’ll make camp here for the night,’ Sir Hugo says, getting down off the horse, pulling me down. He links the chain, on my cuffs, around the base of a tree. Aside from this one tree, there isn’t much else around. There’s lots of dirt, a few random tufts of grass, and a few tiny, brittle, leafless trees, with random dead sticks and twigs surrounding them.
‘That’ll stop you from running off,’ he says, stuffing the cuff key in his breeches pocket.
‘Look around, you fool! There’s clearly nowhere for me to run. I may as well be in the middle of the desert!’ I tell him.
Looking around, he says, ‘Good point, but you can stay there anyway,’ and walks around, bobbing down now and then, collecting twigs for a fire.
The moment these iron cuffs come off, I am going to kill him or at least summon the wind and blow him off the edge of the earth.
The fire crackles in front of me. Sir Hugo sits on the ground next to me, and I’m infuriated because I can’t even shuffle very far from him.
‘I’m not going to bite you,’ he says.
‘I don’t know about that,’ I say. He hands me some bread with a chunk of cheese.
‘Eat,’ he says, and I devour the bread and the chunk of cheese.
After eating, Sir Hugo goes over to the saddlebag to fetch his cape. He drapes it over me and lays down next to me.
‘I’m not sleeping next to you,’ I say, knowing my luck has waned because I’m stuck beside him for the night.
‘You’re chained to a tree. There’s nothing you can do about it,’ he says, and within minutes, he is snoring thunderously. I’m surprised all of West Wallow can’t hear him.
Tired, I lie down and try to sleep as comfortably as possible while cuffed to a tree. My wrists sting from the self-inflicted burns. I roll onto my side, so I’m not facing him, and watch the moon until I fall asleep.
A tap on the back abruptly wakes me.
‘Wake up,’ he says, unfastening the cuffs from around the tree, with his cape back on.
He picks me up and drapes me over the horse in the front of the saddle again. He hoists himself up and sits on the horse, nudging it with the heel of his boot, and flicking the reigns, once before the horse takes off, and we’re moving again.
In Shadowguard, we stop at the tavern, and he pays the tavern owner a few gold coins. He wants his horse fed, a room, and some wine for the night.
We enter our room and judging from the ruckus I can hear, locals crowd around, hoping to get a glimpse of me, and the scenes are much the same outside when I look out the window at all the people queuing to get into the tavern. There is a knock on the door.
‘Who is it?’ Sir Hugo asks.
‘It’s Irene, Sir, the tavern owner’s wife,’ Irene says, opening the door slowly.
‘I’ve just come to fill the tub with warm water,’ she says, looking at me in fascination, and at Sir Hugo, for a reply.
‘Yes, alright,’ Sir Hugo says, drinking his wine.
Irene smiles and nods her head at me. I return her smile weakly. She’s in and out a few times with a big bucket of hot water filling the tub.
‘Can I bathe you, princess?’ She asks me. I look at her, confused. ‘You might struggle to bathe yourself,’ she says, looking at the cuffs on my wrists.
‘I thought the bath was for him. He needs it more than I do,’ I say, straight-faced. Irene tries not to laugh.
‘Just get her into the damn bath, and wash her, so she’s presentable for the King!’ Sir Hugo snaps.
‘I’m not leaving the room, so you won’t be able to say anything you shouldn’t,’ he says before turning around in his chair and facing the wall with his wine pouch.
‘Princess, may I offer you a dress that would be much more elegant on you?’
‘Yes, please. This one is falling apart,’ I say. ‘My name
is Maia. You don’t have to call me Princess,’ I tell her, lowering myself into the warm water. I’ve never had a hot bath before, and it feels nice.
‘Princess Maia it is,’ she says.
‘No, just Maia,’ I explain politely.
‘Ow,’ The water stings where my wrists have been burnt. Sir Hugo spins in his chair quickly.
‘What is it?’ He asks.
‘I’m fine. The water just stings my wrists, is all,’ I say.
Irene washes my back with a sponge and soap, and rubs rose petals into the skin on my arms. They smell delicious. She rubs the soap through my hair and lathers it up before asking me to tip my head back, so she can rinse the soap out, pouring bathwater on my hair from a pewter jug. She helps me out of the tub and dries me.
‘I’ll just fetch the dress from my room,’ Irene says before returning moments later with a long-sleeved, deep-red, corseted dress and a small bowl.
Irene pulls at the crisscrossing strings at the back of the dress, accentuating my waist and pushing in my rib cage to the point I can barely breathe. If men desire breasts, mine are definitely on show. The cuffs on the dress are adorned in white lace, and I’ve never seen anything so fine.
Irene asks me to sit on the bed, and she sits beside me and takes my hands in her lap. She dips her fingers into the small bowl of salve and massages it into the skin near the cuffs.
‘This will help with the pain and soothe the skin,’ she says before looking at Sir Hugo.
‘Do you think you can loosen the cuffs a little so that I can apply this salve on her burns?’ Sir Hugo laughs.
‘No,’ he says. Irene looks at me sympathetically.
‘It’s okay. I appreciate your help. I really do. Just do what you can. I’ll be fine,’ I say, feigning a smile.
After applying the rest of the balm, she brushes and styles my hair to one side and drapes it over my shoulder, decorating it with a violet.
‘Thank you so much, Irene. I’ll always remember your kindness,’ I tell her, smiling, this time, genuinely.
‘It’s the least I can do if you’re going to protect us from the werewolves,’ she says happily, and I instantly feel downcast.
‘Is everything okay, Princess Maia?’ She asks. Sir Hugo is distracted by the crowd outside and is swigging the rest of his wine. I lean toward her and whisper, ‘It’s not the werewolves you should be afraid of.’
‘What do you mean?’ She asks, and I can’t answer for
what happens next surprises us both.
Sir Hugo strips naked in front of us and jumps into the wooden tub of water. The bathwater spills over the sides,
onto the wooden floor, revealing a back covered in scars from past lashings.
‘What?’ He asks nonchalantly, clearly not caring about his nudity, scars, or bath-time theatrics. We both look away, and Irene says goodbye to me and walks toward the door.
‘Make sure you lock the door,’ Sir Hugo tells her.
Irene nods and leaves the room, and we both hear her key turn in the lock. I exhale sharply, knowing an escape would be impossible while he is in the wooden tub and the door is locked.
‘You might as well nap on that bed before we go. We have a long ride ahead of us, yet,’ Sir Hugo says. I look at the bed, never having slept in a proper bed before, and hastily accept the offer. I wrap my arms around myself and fall asleep.
