Prisoner Princess (Belles & Bullets Book 5) Read online

  Of course, he didn't obey. Marcus reached a tall fence at an alley's end, which he vaulted over with ease. Before reaching the fence, Lettie stored her knife in her pocket, took a deep breath, and leapt as high as she could. Her fingers gripped a post as she hauled herself upward and over. Though she didn't clear the fence as quickly as Marcus did, Lettie was determined. She had something to prove to herself. She wanted to prove she wasn't a failure, and that losing her airship to Julian Featherstone was circumstantial. She was ready to be a hero.

  Lettie felt a slight pinch in her ankle when she landed on the other side, but she didn't let it slow her down. She chased the thief as fast as her legs could carry her. Marcus turned another corner, at which time she started gaining ground.

  As she chased him down a narrow alleyway, she received some unexpected help. A man, wearing nothing but knickers, stuck out his leg, making Marcus stumble and fall. Marcus tried to scramble to his feet, but Lettie was too close, and he knew it. She pulled out her knife, but so did Marcus. When he swung at her, she pivoted to the side, then countered with a swing of her own. Her new knife was incredibly sharp, and when it collided with Marcus' hand, it severed two of his fingers. Marcus dropped his knife and watched, through horrified eyes, as his fingers bounced against the pavement.

  Lettie kneed him in the groin, bringing him back to his knees. Then she brought her knife to Marcus' throat and collected the old man's satchel, which was slung around his neck. As she pressed the blade against Marcus' thumping throat, Lettie tried to decide what to do with him. She had threatened to arrest him, but she didn't actually have the authority to do that, not in the newly-occupied capital. With a sigh, she kicked the thief and croaked, “get out of here!”

  Whimpering pitifully, Marcus plucked himself from the ground and staggered away, cradling his bleeding hand.

  As she turned toward her half-naked helper, Lettie said, “Thanks for the assistance.”

  “Uh... sure.” He kept trying to cover himself with his hands, and his cheeks were flooded with a telltale blush. Clearly, being half-naked in an alley wasn't a common occurrence for him. “When I saw him coming toward me, I recognized him. He was one of the men who robbed me yesterday.”

  “Is that so?” Lettie suddenly regretted her decision to let him flee.

  “Unfortunately... yes,” the man sighed. “They took everything. My boots, my coat, my clothes...”

  “I'm very sorry to hear that, sir. Right now, I need to deliver this bag to the man it was stolen from... but if you'd like to come with me, I could buy you something to wear.”

  Under normal circumstances, Nico might have declined her generosity, but he was truly desperate. With a bashful nod, he followed her down the alley.

  “The state of the capital is truly shocking,” Lettie attempted to converse with her half-naked companion as she made her way back to Mae. “My friend and I arrived only recently, and it's even worse than we expected.”

  “I know.” Nico groaned. “It's sad.”

  Because she didn't want to climb the fence again, Lettie took a slightly different route on the way back. She wasn't familiar with the area, but judging from the layout of the streets, it wasn't difficult to guess they might lead to the same destination. “I don't think I'll be sticking around too long,” Lettie said. “The sooner I can get out of this place, the better.”

  Nico didn't reply. The capital seemed like an especially dangerous place for a supposedly dead prince, but he had no way to leave.

  When they finally got back to the carriage, Mae was standing with the driver, gently brushing his bruised cheek. As soon as she saw the prince heading toward her, she gasped.

  Nico raced toward her so fast, he practically tackled her when they collided. He was so relieved to see her, he momentarily forgot his lack of clothes. Burying his face against his friend's shoulder, he sobbed, “I've lost everything, Mae!” As he soaked her dress in his tears, Mae stroked his hair. “I've lost everything. My sister... god... my little sister's dead!”

  “Oh, Nico...” Mae's hand gently cradled his head. “I'm so sorry.”

  “I lost my home, my kingdom, my family, my dignity... I even lost my clothes!” Nico sniffled against her neck. “Have you ever heard of anyone failing as bad as this?”

  Mae didn't say anything, she just listened and held him tighter. When she peered over Nico's shoulder, she saw Lettie handing the satchel to the old carriage driver.

  “I... I thought I lost you too,” Nico whimpered. “But now you're here. God, I'm so glad you're here, Mae, you have no idea!”

  “I'm glad I'm here too. Now, let's get you to an inn so Lettie and I can find you some clothes, hm?” she suggested.

  The old carriage driver suddenly wrapped his cloak around Nico's bare shoulders. “I can't thank you ladies enough,” he said. “I don't think I've ever seen a pair of braver young women in all my life. I'm just glad you came when you did.”

  “It was our pleasure, Martin,” Mae said, smiling at the old man. “Take care, and try to stay out of harm's way!”

  “I will! You can keep the cloak, Mae. It's the least I can do.”

  “Thanks.” Mae wrapped an arm around Nico and steered him in the direction of an inn. After exchanging a few words with the grateful carriage driver, Lettie followed. “Nico... I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you,” Mae whispered.

  “It's okay. It's my fault. I left you at the pub, but I should have taken you to the palace with me. I was being an ass.”

  “No you weren't!” Mae shook her head in protest. “Okay... maybe you were a bit of an ass, but I forgive you.”

  When they entered the inn, Nico tried to close the cloak around his body, hiding his nakedness as much as he could. The innkeeper looked a bit puzzled by Nico's lack of clothes, but he looked happy to hand over a key to Mae. “Business has been slow,” the gruff innkeeper told her. “I'm just glad to have a guest, and I won't ask questions.”

  Their room was on the ground floor, so it didn't take them long to reach it. As soon as they were inside, Mae escorted Nico to one of the beds. He laid down, pulled her into bed with him, and laid his head in her lap. Lettie, who sat on the second bed, was pretty sure she had never seen anyone look more pitiful than he did.

  “Everything's lost,” Nico whispered. “Everything's lost, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't know if there's anything I can do.” Mae didn't respond, she just stroked his hair as he laid on her.

  “I recognize you, Prince Nico,” Lettie finally worked up the courage to speak to him. “I didn't realize it when I first saw you, but you're definitely the prince. I met you once, a couple of years ago. Do you remember me? My name's Letitia Jordan.”

  “I don't think so,” Nico answered with a frown. “I'm sorry.”

  “My father's Admiral Jordan of the Baltmoor Aerial Militia. Even if you haven't heard of me, I bet you've heard of him,” she said. “Is it true that a terrorist group has taken over the palace?”

  “Eversio. Yes.” Nico closed his eyes. It felt a bit awkward to cuddle up to Mae when Lettie was sitting across from them, but he didn't care. His relief far outweighed his need for propriety.

  “Well, I plan to return to Baltmoor soon,” Lettie told him. “As soon as I can find transportation, I'm heading there immediately. I'm sure my father would be willing to help you. Though we aren't an official part of the imperial army, we have sworn to keep the country safe.”

  “Imperial army!” Nico sat up as he sputtered the words. “What a joke! The imperial army—if you can even call it that—was conquered in a day.”

  “We can take back the palace, Your Highness. Don't fret!” Lettie tried to reassure him. A few seconds later, she got up and went to the door. “Now... you two would probably like a moment alone, so I'm going to find some clothes for you. I will return shortly.”

  As soon as Lettie was gone, Nico wrapped his arms around Mae again. “I'm sorry, Mae!” he apologized to her again. “I'm sorry! I dragged you all the way t
o the capital, thinking I could give you a better life here. Now there's nothing I can do!”

  “Don't worry, Nico. I'll be okay. You'll be okay. Everything will eventually be okay! It can't get any worse than this, right?”

  Nico's shoulders fell. “I don't know. It probably could.”

  “It won't.” Mae wrapped an arm around him. “I'm really sorry about your sister.”

  Nico could feel a fresh wave of tears rising into his eyes. “Me too.”

  “I'm really glad I found you. Well... technically speaking, Lettie found you, but I'm glad we were reunited.”

  “Me too,” Nico repeated. “You have no idea how desperate I was to find you, or how glad I was to see your face.”

  “Your face wasn't a bad sight either,” Mae said with a wink, then she kissed the top of his head. “And I promise I'll never leave you again, no matter what.”

  Nine

  “Alright, here's the plan, Wiggly Joe...” Julian began. Captain Doon made the mistake of pairing him with one of his crewmen, which gave them a chance to conspire. Unfortunately, neither of them was a skilled conspirator. “Actually, Wiggly, I have no plan. I was hoping you had a plan.”

  Wiggly stroked his scarred chin and deliberated aloud, “Maybe we could...”

  “Yes... yes?” Julian looked hopeful. They had only been on Doon's airship for a few days, but he was already desperate to escape. Backbreaking labor—or even mild labor—didn't agree with him.

  “I dunno. I'm not in a hurry to get away. Not really.” Wiggly grinned, revealing a blackened snaggletooth. “The food here is real good.”

  Julian dragged a hand across his face and breathed into the palm of his hand. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. “So you don't mind being a prisoner... because you like the food?”

  “Aye.” Wiggly nodded shamelessly. “They put me to work sometimes, but the work's no better or worse than what I did on your ship. And the food's better.”

  At the moment, Wiggly and Julian had been ordered to clean the airship's interior. Bryce escorted them from room to room, where they were forced to dust cobwebs, dump chamber pots, collect dirty undergarments and make beds. Julian struggled with every task. He was afraid of spiders, he had an aversion to excrement, he hated to touch a man's unmentionables, and he had never made a bed in his life. In reality, Wiggly did most of the work while Julian pretended to look busy. Fortunately for Julian, Bryce wasn't a difficult man to fool.

  “Well, I want to get out of here!” Julian exclaimed. “As soon as I find an opportunity, I'm gone. I need my freedom, Wiggly. I want to live again!”

  Wiggly dumped a chamber pot into a larger bucket, in which he had been collecting a day's worth of waste. When some of the bucket's contents splashed onto his arm, Wiggly didn't seem to mind, but Julian was uncomfortably close to retching.

  They were escorted to another room. Julian attempted to make a bed, but it was more difficult than he thought. Every time he tried to smooth wrinkles from the linens, more wrinkles appeared. He was stuck in such a frustrating cycle of wrinkles, he punched a bedpost. The result was throbbing knuckles, which he whined about for the next few minutes.

  “I ain't lyin, though.” Wiggly finally spoke again after an extended period of silence. “Yesterday, they gave me steak. You never give me steak, Captain.”

  “Wiggly!” Julian moaned his companion's name. “Am I going to lose your loyalty over a portion of sliced meat?”

  “Nah. I'm loyal.” Wiggly dumped another chamber pot, narrowly avoiding another splash. “I gotta say, it was a real good steak, though.”

  When the space was passably clean, Bryce took them to the next room, which happened to be the quarters of Captain Doon. Francis was sitting at his desk with a quill in hand. He hated interruptions. Muttering a curse, he deposited the quill into the inkwell and turned his attention to his three unwanted guests.

  “Oh... sowwy, Cap'n.” Bryce tried to back out of the room when he realized it was occupied by his captain. “I thought you'd be on the deck right now. Sowwy...”

  “It's alright, Bryce. But you should have knocked before entering.” Doon scratched his head as his gaze swiveled around the room. “It's not too messy in here, surprisingly. I don't think it needs cleaning.”

  Wiggly spoke up. “Not even your chamber pot, sir?”

  “No. My chamber pot is... empty.” Doon coughed nervously. Chamber pots weren't a topic he cared to discuss with anyone.

  “You sure, sir?” Wiggly insisted. “I got the bucket right here. If you need to go right now, I can wait for you in the--”

  Bryce suddenly grabbed both prisoners by the collars of their shirts and proceeded to drag them out. “Sorry, Cap'n,” he apologized again. “I won't bother you no more.”

  “Actually, Bryce... wait.” Doon suddenly rose from his chair. “Leave Captain Featherstone behind. I wish to talk to him.”

  “Sure thing, Cap'n.” Bryce gave Julian a slight shove, which was actually an immense shove, because Bryce was a beast of a man who didn't know his own strength. Julian, who was much more slender than the man who pushed him, toppled to the ground and rolled.

  “Damn, Bryce! I told you to leave him with me. I didn't tell you to mop the floor with him!” Doon offered a hand to Julian, who opted to rise on his own.

  Before leaving the room, Bryce mumbled another, “Sowwy.” Then he left the room, dragging Wiggly Joe by the scruff of his neck.

  “Well, it looks like I just cleaned your floor!” Julian exclaimed as he dusted himself off. He had to smack a considerable amount of dirt from his breeches. “Honestly, did you know your floor was as filthy as this? Ai yai yai!”

  Doon didn't respond. He was afraid to ask what he needed to ask.

  “Honestly!” Julian carefully plucked a dust bunny from the sleeve of his shirt and transferred it to a waste bin. “I've never seen a dirtier floor in all my life! If you'd like, I can finish cleaning it... unless you've invited me here to seduce me, in which case I must politely inform you that I don't--”

  Doon interrupted. “I need your help, Featherstone. I need your advice.”

  “Oh?” Julian's eyebrow was raised by the unexpected turn of events.

  “Tell me,” Doon begged him. “Tell me how to romance Kitt. I'm honestly clueless.” Julian Featherstone was probably the embodiment of everything he hated, but he needed him. Doon had no idea how to move his relationship forward.

  Julian needed specifics. “You want me to help you romance her, or you want me to help you get her into your bed?”

  “Both. Maybe.” Doon winced. “I've been discussing your lack of skills with Jared Foster. According to that young man, seducing women is the only thing you're good at. As it happens, it's the only thing I'm not good at. So... teach me.”

  “Well, you've already won her heart, apparently,” Julian said, though he hated to admit it. He kept hoping to nab Kitt for himself. “Sometimes, the heart is half the battle.”

  “Most of the time, I have no idea why she likes me,” Doon confessed. “I honestly don't.”

  “Be likeable,” Julian coached him. “That's important. She's not going to want to get close to you if you're being a prickly ass.”

  Doon nodded.

  “And you''ll want to compliment her. Ladies love compliments,” Julian said. “Gaze into her eyes and tell her how beautiful she is. Tell her she has gorgeous eyes, the face of an angel, that sort of thing. Tell her you've never seen a lovelier woman in your entire life.”

  “Well, it least it wouldn't be a lie.” Doon shrugged. “I really haven't seen a lovelier woman in my life.”

  “Uh huh.” Julian paced around the room as he continued with his advice. “It might help if you got her a gift. Have you ever given her a gift?”

  “Um...” Doon was reluctant to answer the question. “I gave her a dagger once.”

  “A dagger?” Julian gasped, as if offended by the thought. “You don't give a lady a dagger. Are you serious? You need to give her flowers, c
andies, jewelry. Or better yet, all three at the same time! You need to give her a gift that lets her know you've been thinking about her. It could be a more personalized gift. The more spontaneous the gift, the better. Don't just wait for her birthday. Give her a gift on a random morning, or in the middle of afternoon tea.”

  Doon groaned into the palm of his hand. Asking for romance advice from Julian Featherstone was probably necessary, but it was one of the most humiliating experiences of his life.

  “Don't gripe!” Julian shook his finger at Doon, like an angry schoolmarm admonishing an unruly student. “This is important! Your Kitt seems like a lovely lady, and she deserves nothing less than the best from you!”

  “Fine. But you still haven't explained how I'm supposed to get... intimate... with her.”

  “You need to ask yourself a very important question, Captain Doon.” As he stalked around the room, Julian paused in front of the looking glass and winked at his reflection. Despite his days of hard labor and sunburn, he was no less attracted to himself. “Do you want to be intimate with her?”

  “Would I be having this discussion if I didn't?” Under his breath, Doon added, “idiot...”

  “Well then, if that's the case, you need to let her know you want her. And make it obvious. You could start with some light touching. Slide the material away from her shoulder and kiss her there. Or maybe wrap an arm around her waist. Say you love her, but whisper the words into her ear. Put her on your lap and lightly kiss along her jaw. There are a plethora of enjoyable options. Or, if that fails, you could always say...” Julian suddenly crossed the room and stood in front of Doon. As he gazed into the pirate's eyes, he finished, “I want you. I need you. For my own sanity, I must have you naked in my arms tonight.”

  At that moment, the door opened, and Kitt stepped into the room looking thoroughly confused. She was holding the portable radio, and for the next several seconds, its soft static was the only noise in the room.