“Yes,” the professor said, his voice the flat, low growl of a dog preparing to attack. “What were you doing to Arhys? Speak!”
Karigan’s mouth dropped open. The professor had a look in his eye, the one suggesting he’d kill her if she didn’t say the right thing. The contrast from the congenial man she’d grown to know shocked her.
Then suddenly Luke was at her side and the stable boys behind him. Somehow they’d gotten around the upset Raven to reach her. Luke held out his hand and helped her stagger to her feet. “Raven’s much calmer now,” he reassured her.
To the professor, he said, “Sir, Miss Goodgrave saved the lass’s life.” He went on to describe how he was roused by the stallion’s whinnies, and when he came to see what the matter was, he’d found Arhys taunting and lashing at the stallion with the carriage whip. Luke’s quarters were in the rear of the stable, and he and his boys had been trapped behind Raven, unable to reach Arhys.
“A blessing Miss Goodgrave came when she did,” Luke continued, “or Arhys would’ve been done for.”
“Is this true?” the professor asked of no one in particular.
“Liar! Big fat liar!” Arhys cried.
“It’s true,” the stable boys chorused in counterpoint. “We saw it.”
“I told you that horse was dangerous,” Mirriam said. “He almost killed Arhys.”
Enough anger had built in Karigan that she stepped toward Mirriam and pointed at her. “The horse was a danger to Arhys only because she put herself there. Any horse can be dangerous if it’s tormented enough.”
“Miss Goodgrave!” Mirriam snapped. “I—”
“Silence!” the professor bellowed. “Arhys, you’ve been a very naughty girl. Very foolish.”
“But you didn’t get me a horse! Why should she have one?”
“We will talk about this,” he said, “but right now, Mirriam is going to take you to your room and there you shall remain until I say so.”
“No!”
“Do as I say.”
Mirriam dragged the shrieking child away and ordered the servants back to the house. Luke and his lads returned to the stable, leaving Karigan alone with the professor.
“I am sorry, my dear.” He produced a fresh handkerchief and offered it to her.
She pressed it to her nose, but discovered the blood was already drying.
“Arhys is headstrong and spoiled, and I’m overprotective.”
“I’d—I’d best see to Raven.” She turned to go, but he touched her arm.
A tick pulsed in his cheek as though he struggled over what he wanted to say. “I need to thank you. I’m indebted to you. You not only saved the life of an innocent child—troublesome though she might be—but also that of the heir to the throne.”
Karigan was not sure she’d heard correctly. “Throne? What throne? The emperor’s?”
“No. As I told you, he assassinates all his offspring. No, Arhys is heir to the throne of Sacoridia. She is directly descended from the king you served, and his queen.”
AN EXCHANGE OF SECRETS
Karigan shook herself, not sure she’d heard him right. He had spoken barely above a whisper, though the yard was empty of potential eavesdroppers.
“That—” She was about to say “brat,” but caught herself in time. “Arhys is a direct . . . ? A descendent of . . . ?”
The professor nodded. The brightening morning revealed the seriousness etched into his features. “We, the opposition, have preserved the bloodline. It’s been so very dangerous. The heirs were always hunted by the emperor. The general belief is that the line was wiped out when a boy, who would have been Arhys’ uncle, was slain. We managed to keep his younger sister separate and safe, her identity hidden. Arhys’ mother. She died in childbirth, however.”
“So King Zachary and Estora . . .”
“Had a son. When Sacor City fell, the queen escaped with her son and went into hiding. They were hunted ceaselessly, and it is said only the queen’s courage kept them alive.”
Karigan wanted to sit down. This was one revelation too many on too little sleep.
“You should get inside,” the professor said, “warm up.”
“I’m not cold,” she replied, though she was, and had wrapped her arms around herself to ward off a chill. “Does Arhys know what she is?”
The professor gave a throaty chuckle. “Can you imagine what she’d be like if we told her she was to be queen?”
Karigan shuddered at the thought.
“No, for her safety, and ours, she will not know till she comes of age. So now, perhaps, you understand why I coddle her a little too much. I really must learn another approach—it would not do to have a spoiled brat on the throne.” He hesitated, then said, “I expect that you, as a Green Rider, will guard this secret with your life. You will, won’t you?” His tone was both pleading and tinged with the inherent threat that if she did not comply, her own existence was forfeit. The professor would protect his royal heir at whatever the cost, and no matter how much he might regret it.
Arhys was Zachary’s many-great granddaughter. How could Karigan not guard such a secret? Besides, she would never let harm befall the girl, no matter who she was, or how foolish. “You have my oath,” she replied, “as a royal messenger of the king.”
“Thank you.” He bowed formally and looked wistful. “I should have liked to have met your king, he who instills such loyalty. Now, perhaps we should go in?”