A Song for Orphans. Морган Райс
had no thoughts about trying to change his mind, not yet. He would still be burning with the need to find that… that… Angelica couldn’t think of words harsh enough for one of the Indentured who pretended to be something she wasn’t, who seduced the prince who was meant for Angelica, and who had been nothing but an impediment since she arrived.
She couldn’t let Sebastian find her, but he wouldn’t simply turn away from the search because she asked. That meant that she needed to act, and act fast, if she was going to make this turn out right.
“Out of the way!” she called, before spurring her horse forward at the kind of speed that promised a crushing fall to anyone stupid enough to stand in its path. She headed out from the city, guessing at the route the wagon must have taken. She cut across the fields, jumping hedges so close that she could feel the brush of the branches against her boots. Anything that would let her get ahead of Sebastian before he went too far.
Eventually, she saw a crossroads ahead, and a man leaning on the signpost there with a flagon of cider in one hand and the air of someone who didn’t intend to move.
“You,” Angelica said. “Are you here every day? Did you see a cart with three girls pass by here on the way north a few days ago?”
The man hesitated, regarding his drink. “I – ”
“It doesn’t matter,” Angelica said. She hefted a purse, the clink of the Royals inside unmistakable. “You were now. A young man named Sebastian will ask you, and if you want these coins, you will say that you saw them. Three young women, one with red hair, one dressed like a servant from the palace.”
“Three young women?” the man said.
“One with red hair,” Angelica repeated with what she hoped was a suitable degree of patience. “They asked you the way to Barriston.”
It was the wrong way, of course. More than that, it was a journey that would keep Sebastian occupied for a while, and that would cool his foolish desire for Sophia when he failed to find her. It would give him a chance to remember his duty.
“They did all that?” the man asked.
“They did if you want the coin,” Angelica snapped back. “Half now, half when it’s done. Repeat it to me, so I know you’re not too drunk to say it when the time comes.”
He managed it, and that was good enough. It had to be. Angelica gave him his coin and rode on, wondering how long it would take him to realize that she wouldn’t be coming back with the other half. Hopefully, he wouldn’t work it out until well after Sebastian had been by.
For her part, she had to be long gone by that point. She couldn’t afford for Sebastian to see her, or he would work out what she’d done. Besides, she needed all the head start that she could get. It was a long way north to Monthys, and Angelica needed to finish everything that she needed to do well before Sebastian realized his mistake and came after her.
“There will be enough time,” Angelica reassured herself as she rode north. “I’ll get it done, and be back in Ashton before Sebastian realizes that anything’s wrong.”
Get it done. Such a delicate way of phrasing it, as if she were still in court, feigning shock while setting out the indiscretions of some minor noble girl for the rumor mill to digest. Why not say what she meant? That, once she found Sophia, there was only one thing that was going to ensure that she would never interfere with her or Sebastian’s life again; only one thing that would make it clear that Sebastian was hers, and that would show the Dowager that Angelica was willing to do whatever was required to secure her position. There was only one thing that was going to leave Angelica feeling safe.
Sophia was going to have to die.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sebastian had no doubt as he rode that there would be trouble for what he was doing now. Riding away like this, against his mother’s orders, avoiding the marriage she had set for him? For a noble from another family, it would have been enough to warrant disinheritance. For the son of the Dowager, it was tantamount to treason.
“It won’t come to that,” Sebastian said as his horse thundered onward. “And even if it does, Sophia is worth it.”
He knew what he was giving up by doing this. When he found her, when he married her, they wouldn’t just be able to walk back into Ashton in triumph, take up residence in the palace, and assume that everyone would be happy. If they were able to return at all, it would be under a cloud of disgrace.
“I don’t care,” Sebastian told his horse. Worrying about disgrace and honor had been what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. He’d put Sophia aside because of what he’d assumed people would think about her. He hadn’t even made them raise their voices in disapproval; he’d just acted, knowing what they would say.
It had been a weak, cowardly thing to do, and now he was going to undo it, if he could.
Sophia was worth a dozen of the nobles he’d spent his time around growing up. A hundred. It didn’t matter if she had the Masked Goddess’s mark tattooed on her calf to claim her, she was the only woman Sebastian could even begin to dream of marrying.
Certainly not Milady d’Angelica. She was everything that the court represented: vain, shallow, manipulative, focused on her own wealth and success rather than anyone else. It didn’t matter that she was beautiful, or from the right family, that she was intelligent or the sealing of an alliance within the country. She wasn’t the woman Sebastian wanted.
“I was still harsh with her when I left,” Sebastian said. He wondered what anyone watching would think, with him talking to his horse like this. Yet the truth was that he didn’t care now what people thought, and in a lot of ways, the horse was a better listener than most of the people around him had been at the palace.
He knew how things worked there. Angelica hadn’t been trying to trick him; she’d simply been trying to put something she knew he would find unpleasant in the best way possible. Looked at through the eyes of a world where the two of them had no choice about whom they were married to, it could even be seen as a kindness.
It was just that Sebastian didn’t want to think that way anymore.
“I don’t want to be stuck in a place where my only duty is to keep breathing in case Rupert dies,” he told his horse. “I don’t want to be somewhere my value is as breeding stock, or as something to be sold on to promote the right connections.”
Looked at like that, the horse probably understood his predicament as well as any noble could. Weren’t the finest horses sold on for their breeding potential? Didn’t those nobles who liked to race the length of country lanes or ride to the hunt keep records of every line, every foal? Wouldn’t every one of them kill their own prize stallions before they allowed a single drop of the wrong blood to enter the bloodlines?
“I’ll find her, and I’ll find a priest to marry us,” Sebastian said. “Even if Mother wants to charge us with treason over it, she’ll still need to persuade the Assembly of Nobles.”
They wouldn’t just kill a prince on a whim. Probably, some of them would be sympathetic, given enough time. Failing that, he and Sophia could always elope into the mountain lands of the north, or slip over the Knifewater together unseen, or even just retire to the lands Sebastian was supposed to be a duke of. They would find a way to make it work.
“I just have to find her first,” Sebastian said, as his horse took him out of the city, into the open countryside.
He felt confident that he would catch up to her, even with how far ahead she had to be by now. He’d found people who had seen what had happened when she ran from the palace, asking guards for their reports, then listening to stories from the people of the city. Most of them had been cautious about talking to him, but he’d managed to get enough fragments together to at least get a general sense of the direction Sophia had been moving in.
From what he’d heard, she was in a cart, which meant that she would be moving faster than a walking pace, but nowhere near as fast as Sebastian could move on horseback. He would find a way to catch up to her,