Prisoner Princess (Belles & Bullets Book 5) Read online

Page 4


  “The airship's descending in a few minutes,” Kitt reported as she approached. “We decided to drop Mae and Lettie at the capital because one of the ladies requested it. But we won't be landing too close because it's supposed to be chaotic there.”

  Doon gave her a dismissive response. “Uh huh. Alright. Brilliant.”

  “Doon...” Kitt tilted her head as she examined his guilty expression. Her gaze rapidly flicked back and forth between Francis and Julian. “Have you been smoking again?”

  “What?” Doon laughed and snorted. “No! Of course not!”

  Then she turned her attention to Julian and asked, “Was he smoking?”

  Francis Doon's eyes were beseeching him, so Julian shook his head and replied with gusto, “Nope! Nuh uh. Not Doon. No way.”

  Kitt's eyes were oozing with mistrust for both of them. “Then why does it smell like smoke out here?”

  “It must be the engines,” Julian answered quickly. “The steam engines can stink like that, you know.”

  It sounded like a reasonable explanation, so Doon nodded in agreement.

  “Well... if you say so.” Kitt's voice was tinged with doubt. Despite her boyfriend's claims to the contrary, she knew Doon never quit his old habit, but until she had irrefutable proof, she could only speculate. “Anyway, Lettie and Mae are leaving the airship soon. I thought you'd want to know that, Captain Featherstone. In fact, Lettie's asked for a chance to say goodbye to you, so if it's alright with Doon...?”

  Doon nodded again.

  “Good. Well, then, Julian, if you'll come with me...” As Kitt led him to the port side of the airship, they could feel themselves descending.

  “You look very beautiful today, Miss Lake.” Even as a prisoner, Julian never missed an opportunity to flirt. “After the day I've had, seeing your face is a blessing.”

  “Um... thank you?”

  “If you ever get bored of Doon, feel free to come to the Featherstone side. You'd have more fun, I'm sure.”

  Kitt ignored him, much to Julian's disappointment. But when they approached Mae and Lettie, the light returned to his eyes.

  “Miss Jordan!” Julian raced toward her with his arms extended. “It's good to see you're alright! You look adorable, as usual.” To the other woman, he added, “As do you, Miss Mae.”

  “Your face is so... red,” Mae observed.

  “I know! They have me baking in the sun all day. They're merciless! Merciless, I tell you!” Though he replied to Mae, Julian tried to read Lettie's expression. Her face showed no emotion. In truth, she had mixed feelings about their parting. Losing her airship was the most demoralizing thing that ever happened to her, and she hated him for it. At the same time, in some odd way, she was sad to leave Julian behind.

  “It's hard to imagine Julian Featherstone as a prisoner,” Lettie mused. “You usually spend your days lounging and seducing women. This must be a big change for you.”

  “It is.” Julian's nostrils flared at the thought of his predicament. “But I'm managing.”

  “I guess... I'll never see you again.” Lettie hoped her eyes didn't look too disappointed.

  With a lopsided grin, he replied, “Never say never, Miss Jordan! Never is such a discouraging word.” He suddenly grabbed her hand and kissed it. “Good luck out there, beautiful.”

  “Good luck to you too.”

  “And... congratulations, by the way. When we first met, I predicted you would fall for me, but you never did. You stuck to your guns! I'm proud of you, Lettie!” Julian winked at her. “I wish you all the best with your fiance. Georgie's a lucky man.”

  Lettie should have appreciated his words, but she couldn't. For some inexplicable reason, Julian's well-wishes made her sad. When the airship touched the ground, she thought about hugging him—but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, they parted with a handshake.

  Mae dipped a hand in her pocket and jingled the coins inside. To Kitt, she said, “Thanks for the money.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Kitt responded with a nod and smile. “If I was leaving the airship, I wouldn't want to leave with nothing. Giving you a bit of money was really the least I could do.”

  “Farewell, Mae,” Julian said with a bow. “I'm very sorry about your nose.”

  “Oh!” Now that her nose was healing, Mae had almost forgotten about it. “It's alright. I hope you get out of prison soon!”

  “So do I, dear girl,” Julian sighed. “So do I.”

  As they departed from the airship, Mae turned around and waved. Lettie, on the other hand, kept her chin down and charged forward. Seeing Julian's face would only make her sad, so she didn't look back.

  Julian kept them in his sights as long as he could. When the airship lifted off, the girls were tinier and tinier—until they were gone. He was happy for Lettie. Ever since their initial encounter, all she wanted was to get away from him. She was finally getting her wish. Julian tried to smile for her, but he couldn't, not while traces of tears were fogging his vision.

  He would miss her terribly.

  Six

  When Gareth Harriot entered the Black Palace, his many followers dropped to their knees in solemn deference to their master—all except for Jackal, who had to be dragged to his knees by Callum. Even Thomas Harriot was on his knees, bowing to his father.

  “Long live President Harriot!” shouted a random follower of Eversio, which set off a chain of similar cheers from others. Gareth's lips were pulled into a grin as he listened to their chanting. The emperor was dead, the royal family was obliterated, and the palace was his. After twenty long years, his thirst for revenge had finally been quenched.

  “Ah, Gareth!” Loreina cooed his name as she flitted down the hallway. “You're finally here! May I be the first to congratulate you on a job well done?”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” Gareth's voice croaked. When he tried to sidestep the obnoxious woman, she leapt forward, blocking his path.

  “I must say,” Loreina continued, “I'm positively envious! It seemed so easy for you. And they were so ill-prepared! I daresay my daughter will be more of a challenge for me.” When Gareth resumed walking, Loreina clutched his arm. “And that's precisely what I wanted to talk to you about. My daughter.”

  “Go ahead,” Gareth grumbled. The former queen of Englund had been a valuable ally for the

  last few months. If she was asking him to lend an ear, he couldn't refuse.

  “If not for me, the prince wouldn't have gone to Baltmoor, and this chain of events wouldn't have been set in motion. I got him out of the way for you!” Loreina reminded him. “And I helped to sneak your men into the palace! I gave them a place to hide! So, you see... you owe me!”

  “I'm well aware of that, and you'll have your airships soon.” Gareth lightly pushed her aside. “Now, if you'll excuse me, there is important business that requires my attention.”

  Loreina chased him down the hall, hovering at his heels. Everywhere he went, men were bowing to him, but the woman behind him wouldn't stop squawking.

  “I require your attention! And I don't need airships! Not yet, anyway! I have a new plan!” Loreina loudly informed him. Originally, Gareth was supposed to provide airships to help her take back the castle from Lyneah. But if her daughter was nearby, such drastic measures wouldn't be necessary. “I've captured my daughter's fiance. I thought I could use him to... draw her out.”

  “And how do you plan to do that?” Gareth mumbled the question over his shoulder.

  “I thought I could subject him to a bit of light, public torture,” Loreina explained. “I give her a chance to trade herself in exchange for the boy. She seems to like him... after all, she was going to marry him. If she saw him in physical pain, I doubt she'd hold out long.”

  “Very well.” Gareth's footsteps halted. “It sounds like a decent plan, and if it worked, it would require much less effort from all of us. I'll let you borrow my favorite torturers, as well as Thomas.” He motioned for Callum, Jackal and his son to step forwa
rd, which they did without question. “Feel free to put them to use.”

  “Thank you, Gareth! You're too kind.” Loreina smiled at her new assistants. Her smile was especially wide for Callum, who licked his lips and winked at her. When she headed in the direction of the palace's dungeon, she motioned for them to follow.

  As they traveled down the hall, a snide Callum asked, “Queen Loreina... or was it Empress Maria? What should we call you today, my lady?”

  “Loreina is fine, now that my secret is out.” When they reached the door to the dungeon, Loreina paused. Apparently, she was incapable of opening doors for herself, so Thomas stepped forward and yanked the knob. “Boys, I need you to torture someone for me.”

  “Oooo!” Jackal's howl echoed as he followed her into the dungeon. “I like torture!”

  “This particular torture session must take place somewhere public, where people are known to gather.” Loreina explained her plan as they breezed past rows of cells. “Maybe the marketplace, or possibly the square?”

  “The town square should be sufficient. We'll use the gallows,” Thomas said. “However, the streets have been somewhat empty since the attack on the palace. If you require a lot of spectators, that might be difficult.”

  “Then spread the word!” Loreina ordered him. “You can even use the radio, if need be. I need this to reach my daughter's ears.”

  They eventually reached the cell of Tobias Robb, who had been tied up, shackled, gagged, and deposited on the floor. His restraints were so tight, he could barely move. Oddly enough, his gunshot wounds had been treated and bandaged. His cell was dark, but a slit of light from a narrow window illuminated his face. His expression vacillated between terror and grief, but when he saw the four people standing on the other side of the bars, terror won.

  As soon as the cell door was open, Jackal was the first one inside. “Awww! We have to torture him? But he's so pretty!” In the middle of whining, Jackal exaggerated a pout. “I don't wanna!”

  “You don't have a choice, Jackal,” Callum coldly informed him. “You have to obey your betters. Besides, I thought you enjoyed torturing people?”

  “Well... yeah. I usually do.” Jackal dropped to his knees beside Tobias and lovingly stroked his hair. “He's too beautiful to hurt.”

  “He killed Noah,” Callum reminded him.

  “I know... but still...” Jackal removed the gag from Tobias' mouth and closed the gap between them. When Tobias saw the torturer's lips descending, he grunted and winced. Jackal kissed him several times, even suckling his lower lip.

  “Well, Jackal is obviously smitten with the boy,” Callum said, as if the others couldn't gather that for themselves. “But I have no problem torturing Noah's killer.”

  “What about you, Thomas Harriot?” Loreina asked as she turned to the taciturn man at her side. “Will you be up to the task?”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” Harriot answered with a bow. “It shall be done.”

  The very next day, Tom Harriot dragged Tobias to the middle of the square. There was a raised wooden platform, which was more commonly used as a gallows, but today it served a different purpose. It was to be Tobias' torture stage. Harriot shoved him into the stockade and made sure his neck and wrists were secure.

  “Laaaadies and gentlemeeeen!” Callum clapped his hands as he addressed the crowd. “Today we have a very special show for you! Do you see this man right here?” With a finger, he jabbed Tobias' eye, which was already blackened by bruising. “This man is a criminal! He conspires with the enemy! We will now demonstrate what happens to those who stand against us.”

  “Queen Lyneah!” Harriot called her name as he unraveled his whip. “If at any point this spectacle becomes too much to bear, we invite you to step forward and end his misery.”

  “No!” Tobias screamed. He had no idea if Lyneah was part of the audience, but if she was, he wanted to make his stance clear. “Don't do it Lyneah! Don't worry about me! Don't--”

  Tobias' outburst earned him a punch in the face from Callum.

  “I will begin by giving him fifteen lashes,” Harriot announced his intentions to a murmuring crowd. “I will count them as I go. You're welcome to count with me, if you'd like.”

  Harriot stroked his chin as he walked away from the stockade. When he reached the proper distance, he turned around and gave the whip a slight flick, testing his grip. He waited a few seconds, letting the tension build before he struck. As he waited, the crowd was dead silent.

  Finally, Harriot bellowed, “One!”

  Tobias screamed when the hard leather met his soft flesh. A murmur of discontent buzzed throughout the crowd.

  “Two!”

  Tobias clenched his teeth at the searing pain.

  “Three!”

  An old woman in the audience covered her granddaughter's eyes, hiding them from the awful scene.

  “Four. Five!” As Harriot unleashed one strike after another, his whip spiraled over his head. “Six!”

  Tobias was trying not to yell too much, but the pain was practically unbearable. After the seventh strike, his scream was half-stifled. The whip carved its way inside him, layer by layer, muscle by muscle. Ripples of pain shot through to his bones.

  “Eight!”

  Callum cupped a hand over his mouth, concealing his pleasure. Harriot's torture session was highly entertaining to him. Since they had reached the midpoint, he reminded the crowd, “Remember, Queen Lyneah! If you're present, you can step forward and spare him at any moment!”

  “No!” Tobias hollered as the whip struck him again. “Lyneah, don't!” No matter what they threw at him, he could bear it. He didn't want Lyneah to put herself at risk, let alone, her entire kingdom. He wasn't worth it.

  “Ten!” No one in the crowd counted with him, even though he invited them to do so. Harriot didn't particularly enjoy it himself, but counting helped him keep his focus. “Eleven. Twelve.”

  By the thirteenth strike, he was carving cuts into cuts. Tobias' entire back was raw and open.

  “Fourteen.” A trace of guilt flashed on Harriot's face when he unleashed his whip for the last time. “And... fifteen!”

  “Good job!” Callum exclaimed as he patted Tobey's cheek. “You stayed conscious the entire time! That's more than I can say for some. And you weren't screaming nearly as much as I expected you to be! Such a brave young man you are!”

  “My associate will take charge of round two,” Harriot said, bowing his head in Callum's direction. “Queen Lyneah, are you ready to show yourself yet?” His eyes scanned the immense crowd, half of which looked extremely unsettled. “No?” When Lyneah didn't emerge, Harriot lowered his voice and spoke to Callum. “Go easy on him. Loreina told us to keep the torture light.”

  “Damn, fifteen lashes is light?” As he chuckled at Harriot's remark, Callum extracted a razor sharp knife from the pocket of his vest. “I'd hate to get on your bad side, Tom Harriot. I really would.”

  Callum looked positively thrilled when he stepped up to Tobias. His eyelashes fluttered excitedly as he dragged the knife along Tobias' cheek. He didn't cut him, he was only teasing him. When the blade reached his scalp, Callum trimmed a lock of hair from the top of Tobey's head. “This is for Jackal,” he explained. “I think he fancies you.”

  Tobias glared at Callum, but he didn't say a word.

  “I bet I know what would really lure her out!” Callum pointed the tip of his blade at Tobias' male anatomy. “What if I threatened to cut these off?”

  In a hollow voice, Tom reminded him, “Light torture, Callum. Restrain yourself. We're not here to alter the boy for life.”

  “Can I cut off a hand?” Callum asked, simpering at the man who outranked him.

  “No.”

  “An ear?” Callum looked hopeful.

  “No!”

  “Very well...” As Callum decided what to do, the crowd went silent again, as did Tobey. It was so quiet, they could hear the distant yowl of a hungry alley cat.

  All of a sudden,
Callum tore open the front of Tobias' shirt. With his knife, he proceeded to carve a large, red C into his victim's bare chest. Tobey's eyes rolled back in his head as the blade excruciatingly drove through his skin. He couldn't stop whimpering, and when it was finally over, his body trembled uncontrollably.

  Harriot opened the stockade and lifted Tobias by his hair. “You have twenty-four hours, Queen Lyneah!” he shouted to the crowd. “If you don't show yourself in twenty-four hours, the young man dies!”

  When they turned and exited the stage, Lyneah covered her mouth and choked back a sob. I should have stepped forward, she silently berated herself. She loved Tobias more than anything in the world. She could have ended his pain, but she didn't. She could have traded herself for him—and she nearly did, but she tried to be rational. If she sacrificed herself, how could she trust them not to kill Tobias anyway? And what if she did sacrifice herself? She would be turned over to her mother, who would probably kill her, claim her crown, and throw her country back into chaos. The risk was too great.

  Lyneah tried to imagine what Tobias would want her to do. He kept telling her not to step forward, but did he really mean it? Lyneah's heart raced as a sob clawed its way out of her. How could she ever forgive herself for letting Tobias suffer?

  As the crowd dispersed, Lyneah dropped to her knees and retched. An old man stopped to ask if she was alright, but she wasn't in the mood for sympathy, so she waved him away with a flick of her hand. Six months ago, she thought she faced the biggest trials of her life. But she was wrong. Nothing would ever be more heartbreaking than watching Tobias' torture.

  A few minutes later, she finally found the strength to move. Lyneah dragged herself to her feet and ambled forward. She didn't know where to go. Her guards were slain, her airships were seized, and her money was mostly lost. She needed to get back to Englund, but until Tobias' fate was known, she wasn't going anywhere.

  For the next thirty minutes, Lyneah aimlessly wandered the capital. She had no destination, no goal. She thought about marching to the palace, turning herself in, and begging for mercy for the man she loved. She just wanted to be at Tobias' side again, no matter what. If they were reunited in death, it would be better than losing everything.