The Barefoot Barmaid (Belles & Bullets Book 1) Page 8

  “You're too kind. And now I, uh...” Kitt turned her gaze to the end of the hall. “Now I really should get going. The last few days have been exhausting, and I'd really rather be alone right now.”

  “Oh.” He looked hurt, almost as if he'd been punched in the gut. “How very inconsiderate of me. Here I am, accosting you with kisses when you'd rather lie down and rest. I'm so sorry, Lyneah.”

  “You don't have to apologize. It... it was actually nice to see you.” And it wasn't entirely a lie. It was nice to know there was someone in the castle who was on her side. Even if he thought she was someone else, and even if she didn't know his name, it was nice to know someone adored her. “I will see you tomorrow, I hope?”

  “Of course, my lady.” The man bowed to her as he stepped aside. “If ever a day goes by and I do not see your face, it is a dull day indeed.”

  “Well, um...” Kitt started tiptoeing down the hall, away from the amorous knight. It seemed logical that she would give her lover a kiss goodbye, but Kitt couldn't bring herself to do it. “I'll, uh... bye.”

  She sprinted down the hall before he could say another word.

  12

  “We should have had her killed.” As Marius stalked around the throne room, he expelled a breath that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. Ever since he learned of the princess' return, his mind was racing. He had hoped the bitch would stay gone for good. “That would be the only permanent solution to the Lyneah problem. Just cut off her head and be done with it.”

  Queen Loreina brought her pipe—long, golden, and shaped like a pig's head—to her lips. Her childhood friend had been fretting all day, but all she wanted was to relax and enjoy the moment. “Goodness, Marius! I want this kingdom to be ours as much as you do, but this is my daughter you're talking about, and I'd rather not kill the girl if it could be avoided.”

  Marius stopped pacing and turned in the queen's direction. As his eyebrow slowly raised, he said, “But you were willing to kill your husband.”

  “King Nikolai isn't a blood relative.” Loreina took another drag from her pipe and held the smoke inside of her for several seconds. When it finally billowed from her lips, she added, “And he isn't dead.”

  “Not yet.” Marius marched over to Loreina's crystal-encased throne and stood directly in front of her. His voice dropped to a whisper as he said, “My point is, you weren't above poisoning him.”

  “And my point is, I haven't killed him yet.” When Loreina crossed her legs, the slit in her dress fell open, revealing a large portion of her milky white thighs. “And why are you lowering your voice? We're the only ones in here.”

  “Yes. Still, as your advisor, I must remind you that we do not want our conversations to be overheard by the wrong person.”

  Marius Marworth had served as Queen Loreina's advisor for over twenty years, but he had been her friend and lover for even longer. When she married the king, Marius was gutted—but it also presented an opportunity. It had taken years, but he finally managed to convince Loreina that they should rule in the king's stead. Of course, this also meant disposing of both the king and princess, and both had proven to be difficult. The poison they were using on King Nikolai was working too slowly. The bastard had been clinging to life in a coma for nearly a year. And it wasn't as if Loreina had much of an attachment to her daughter, but even a cold-hearted queen like her struggled with the idea of murdering her own child.

  “You need to kill the girl,” Marius insisted. “She'll make trouble for us as long as she's alive. If you hire the right people, you can make it look like an accident.”

  The queen answered his recommendation with a sigh. No matter how many times Marius championed the idea, Loreina couldn't do it. “When she's married, she'll no longer be a threat to us. She'll be absorbed into her husband's kingdom as its eventual queen, and that will be that.”

  “Until her husband decides he wants to rule this kingdom too!” Marius knelt beside his long-time lover and gripped her hand. “I know it is difficult, my dear, but Lyneah's death is the only way to ensure that we get what we want. What we deserve.”

  “There are others I'd rather kill first,” Loreina nonchalantly said, as if potential assassinations were part of her everyday discourse.

  “Who, my love?”

  “Well...” Once again, she brought her pig-shaped pipe to her mouth and inhaled deeply, and for a moment, every muscle in her body felt miraculously soothed. “For one, we'll have to kill the king's brother. I'm really rather fond of him, so it's a bit of a shame... but we need to remove him from the picture.”

  “Prince Lysander does not seek the throne. He is less of a threat than, say, the king's cousin. The Duke of Suffick's been plotting against us for some time. The people love him. If the king dies before we've suppressed the duke, he could incite a movement against us.”

  “Then what do you intend to do?”

  “Hire Doon,” Marius said, “As long as he's near the castle, we should make use of his... talents.”

  “Hmm. Yes. Doon. He does get the job done.” Loreina drew a deep breath that hefted her barely constrained bosom. She had thrown herself at Doon once or twice, only to be flatly refused. Despite his rejection, she had fond thoughts of him. Thoughts of handsome rogues always got her heart thumping a bit faster. Of course, she couldn't tell Marius this. Her childhood friend was so daft, he had somehow managed to remain oblivious to her interest in other men. “We should ask if he'd be willing to take a dirty job.”

  “Can we trust him with our secrets?” Marius asked.

  “Most of them. Not all.” The queen yawned. Discussing the deaths of her enemies was starting to bore her. “But I do believe we can count on him to kill a man and keep it between us. It's what he does best.”

  “Very well. I'll have someone fetch him straightaway.” Marius pulled open the heavy throne room door, called to one of the guards, and told them to find Doon. And he told them it was urgent, because he could not tolerate dawdling. To the queen, he said, “I hope you know what you're doing, my love.”

  “Of course I do, darling. And don't ever question me. It's your job to advise me, but it was never your job to question my decisions.”

  Getting admonished by the queen was strangely arousing, so Marius closed the distance between them and kissed her deeply. She wove her fingers through his long dark hair, and he buried his mouth against her neck. His lips started to dive to her bosom when Doon entered the throne room. When the queen saw him enter, she shoved Marius' head away and tried, with little success, to compose herself.

  “Ah, Doon! You arrived rather quickly.” Loreina straightened her tiara as her lips adopted a false smile.

  “Of course, Your Majesty.” Doon bowed to her. “I was told it was urgent, but if you need me to come back later, I--”

  “No!” Loreina nearly shouted the word. “Don't go. Marius needs to mind his place.”

  Her lover's shoulders shrank as he stepped away from the throne. Getting publicly admonished wasn't something that happened to him often, so he sulked in silence and let the queen explain the situation.

  “Captain Doon...” Loreina began. “We've been informed that the Duke of Suffick has been plotting against the royal family and we need this man to... disappear.”

  “Ah.” Doon didn't say anything else, he simply nodded, letting her know he understood her meaning.

  A grin appeared on the queen's lips as she continued. “You will be paid well, of course, if you return to us with proof of his... unfortunate death.”

  “It is as good as done, Your Majesty.”

  “Mmm. Doon...” Loreina moaned softly. When Doon was so obedient, it was impossible not to lust for him. In fact, she looked a bit predatory in her lust for him, like a lioness eying her supper. “I appreciate that you never ask questions. Your loyalty to our cause is impressive.”

  “Of course.” Doon bowed his head to her. “I am always at your service.”

  Marius, perhaps sensing his lover's i
nterest in the other man, stepped forward and cleared his throat. In a loud, clear voice, he asked, “Can we rely on your discretion, Captain Doon? When you leave this room, it should be as if we never had this conversation.”

  “Of course,” Doon said again. “I've already forgotten it.”

  “Good.” The queen smiled appreciatively. “Then you are dismissed.”

  When Doon walked away, the queen's eyes drifted to his bum, and she licked her lips.

  She would have to plot to get him into her bed—and soon.

  13

  When Kitt woke up and glanced around the princess' plush bedroom, she groaned. Another girl might have thought it was the best thing ever, but Kitt couldn't let herself relax. None of this was actually hers. And until she could get away from the castle, she was constantly at risk. Someone could see through the ruse, or the real princess could return at any time. Kitt felt sick to her stomach each time a new scenario played out in her head.

  As soon as she sat up, Kitt saw a letter on the floor. Apparently, someone had shoved something under her door. When her toes touched the cold marble floor, Kitt winced. She tiptoed to retrieve the letter, then dove back into her blankets as quickly as she could. Her situation was strange, but at least the princess' bed was extraordinarily comfortable.

  Kitt tore open the letter and scanned its contents.

  My love.

  I know you wanted to be alone last night, and I understand that. Truly. But it breaks my heart to think you did not miss me as much as I missed you. Every day, I longed for your return. When you were gone, every inch of my body ached at the thought of your absence. I couldn't wait to see your face again, and to hear your beautiful soft voice.

  Voice? Kitt's eyebrow lifted. If even her voice sounded the same as Princess Lyneah's, it seemed too convenient.

  When I heard you had returned, all I wanted to do was embrace you in my arms and never let go. But you pushed me away, and it broke my heart. I cannot get over my fear that you no longer feel the same way for me as I feel for you. I need you to ease my worries. I need you to tell me I'm wrong.

  If you don't mind, I would like to come to you tonight. We have much to discuss. Not to mention, I long to kiss your lips and touch your hair. With all my heart, I hope you allow it.

  I should warn you about one more thing. As you might know, your fiance is due to arrive today. Unfortunately, I am one of the guards who has been assigned to watch your first meeting. It will be a difficult thing to witness, but I am sure I shall endure it. Somehow.

  With love

  Sir Roderick Kelp

  Kitt's hands were shaking when she reached the letter's end. According to the words of Sir Roderick (and it was good to finally know his name), Princess Lyneah was meeting her fiance for the first time today? Kitt panicked at the thought. She couldn't meet the princess' fiance, could she? She was already in too deep, and meeting Lyneah's intended husband could only make it worse.

  “Damn you, Doon,” Kitt whispered. “Damn you.”

  Doon had backed her into a corner. He was the one who forced her into this situation, and there was no escape. Kitt closed her eyes and imagined an ax swinging down on her neck—because that was surely what would happen when they discovered she was an impostor. The queen would kill her for sure.

  Kitt didn't even realize she was whimpering until Barnabus leapt onto her bed and licked her face. He must have been worried about her. Kitt stroked his shaggy brown head, sighed and said, “Your friend Doon's really gotten me into a serious mess. And I really, really don't know how to get myself out of it.” After all, there were guards everywhere, and they were watching her closely. The princess had already escaped once, and they clearly didn't want it to happen again.

  Soon after she finished reading the letter, there was a knock on the door. Kitt shouted, “come in!” and immediately regretted having done so. Three of the princesses' handmaidens swooped into the room and insisted on helping her dress for the day, ignoring Kitt's assertion that she was perfectly capable of dressing herself.

  In reality, Kitt wouldn't have been capable of putting on these clothes on her own. First, they stuffed her midsection into a corset so tight, Kitt thought she might fracture a rib. She wondered how she was supposed to breathe all day in such a monstrosity. The dress itself was so heavy, she swore it must have been made from iron. One of the handmaidens gently pushed her in the direction of a chair and started fussing with Kitt's hair. It was a process that lasted nearly an hour, because it involved a wig, extensions, and some very gaudy decorations.

  “Are you nervous, Your Highness?” one of the handmaidens attempted to make conversation with her. “If I was meeting my betrothed for the first time, I would be so nervous!”

  “Uh-huh. I am somewhat nervous,” Kitt quietly replied. And it was true. Even though the unnamed man wasn't actually her fiance, her nerves were on edge. It would be bad enough to know she was meeting a prince, let alone, a prince she was supposed to marry.

  “Who knows? At the end of the day, you might even consider yourself lucky! I've heard Prince Malik is quite handsome!” The handmaiden who chatted with her was so caught up in the conversation that she accidentally jabbed the side of Kitt's head with a pin. “Oh dear! I'm so sorry, Your Highness!”

  “It's alright. My head's sturdier than it looks.”

  “Forgive me for saying so, Your Highness, but your manner of speech seems different now,” another handmaiden observed. “You seem much more casual. Or perhaps more approachable? Your time away from the castle must have changed you... although I don't think it's a bad thing.”

  “Well... you can learn a lot in the big, mad world. I had to adopt a few different mannerisms to try to fit in.” Kitt couldn't believe she was actually trying to make up stories to support her lie. She had officially become an accomplice of Francis Doon.

  “I'd love to know what you experienced outside the castle!” exclaimed the handmaiden who was fussing with Kitt's hair. “I can't imagine what it would be like for a princess to try to adapt to the world outside. I think it would be quite scary!”

  “It was.” Kitt's thoughts wandered to her days at Lucky's, and the bar's many unsavory patrons. It already felt like a lifetime ago. “It was.”

  One of the handmaidens applied a bit of rogue to Kitt's lips, then declared that she was done. “Princess Lyneah” was officially ready to meet her fiance.

  Kitt was escorted to a sitting room by at least a dozen guards, including the one named Roderick. As his was the only familiar face in the crowd, her eyes were drawn to him several times. And every time she glanced in his direction, he was looking at her too. She wasn't sure if his attention was reassuring or if it made her uncomfortable.

  Kitt sat on a settee in the center of the room. Her hands were sweating so badly, she had to wipe them on her dress several times. Smearing perspiration on her fancy clothes probably wasn't the most ladylike thing to do, but she couldn't help it. She was terribly nervous.

  The ominous toll of a grandfather clock announced it was exactly noon, when the prince was due to arrive. Not three minutes later, a young man entered the sitting room, flanked by an impressive entourage. Kitt could feel her eyes narrowing as she studied him. He looked about the same age as her, give or take. He had deep olive skin, a few shades darker than hers, and slicked-back black hair. Everything above his nose was concealed behind a massive pair of sunglasses with frames in the shape of gears. He removed them when he entered, revealing sharp, unfriendly obsidian eyes. He did not look especially happy to be there.

  “Princess Lyneah?” He haughtily raised his nose as he made his way toward her.

  “Y-yes?” Kitt's heart was beating so fast and her thoughts were so jumbled, she didn't know what else to say.

  “I am, of course, Prince Malik.” His nose wrinkled slightly when he took her hand and raised it to his lips. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”

  “Indeed. It's a, um, pleasure.” Kitt folded her hands in
her lap, but it felt unnatural, so she unfolded them. And then refolded them a few seconds later. Her hands didn't know what to do with themselves. “I mean, of course, that it's a pleasure to meet you. I wasn't agreeing that it was a pleasure to meet me.”

  “Uh huh.” Prince Malik sat on the sofa across from her and crossed his legs. For a moment or so, he watched her in silence. When she tried to gauge the look on his face, Kitt didn't think he looked terribly impressed. “It's very cold in your country. When I'm on an airship, I'm usually out on the deck enjoying the view. But on the journey over here, it was so cold, I spent most of my time hiding in my room.”

  Kitt was on an airship just yesterday, but she never noticed the cold. “I guess maybe I just appreciate cooler weather?”

  “As you know, I'm from a country to the far east. We enjoy warm weather all year round. Perhaps my skin is not designed to tolerate cold as yours is.”

  “P... Perhaps.”

  Neither of them said anything for the next minute or so, which felt like the longest minute of Kitt's life. Her fiance kept looking down at his hands and sighing. He looked so disappointed, she was glad she couldn't read his thoughts.

  “So, umm...” Kitt was scouring her brain for something to discuss with him. Someone needed to end the awkward silence, but the prince didn't seem particularly interested in carrying a conversation. “My hair is actually much shorter than this.”

  “Is that so?” He glanced at the ceiling as he spoke. Kitt couldn't tell if he was nervous or if he was just being rude.

  “Yes. This is a wig, actually.” Kitt grazed a hand over her intricately arranged false hair. “Apparently, meeting my fiance with short hair was unacceptable.”

  “Hmf. Well, that sounds like a lot of nonsense to me. Short hair can be very fetching... on the right person.”

  Kitt didn't like the way he finished his sentence. It sounded almost as though he was trying to suggest she was not the right person. “I quite like your hair,” she tried to compliment him. “It looks very... neat.” And it was. Prince Malik's pristine hair was the complete opposite of Captain Doon's untamed locks.