Royal Outlaw: (Royal Outlaw, Book 1) (18 page)

“I was asking for books not kisses! There is a big difference between the two. Now will you help me or not?”

James touched his fingertips to his bloody lip and winced.

When her friend did not answer, Mariel shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She was desperate for brain food, but was she desperate enough?
Yes, I am
, she decided pitifully.

In a small voice she forced out the words that she never thought she would speak to him: “If you get me some good books, I will let you kiss me . . . But only once!” She lamely tagged onto the end, as though that would help restore the dignity of her pathetic compromise.

To her surprise, James did not agree, instead he swore loudly, causing a few girls nearby to glance in their direction. James was a snake at her feet an instant later, as the girls who had seen took a double glance and stared at where the man had been an instant before. Luckily, the fading light made the body of the snake look like just another shape in the shadows. When the curious girls were finally convinced that what they had seen had been their imagination, they turned away and went back to their meaningless chatter.

Mariel walked quickly to the stables with the viper slithering behind her. She expected the animals to spook with the presence of the dangerous serpent, but the horses looked up when she entered, found her uninteresting, and returned to their dinner of hay. Iyela was not among them, since she lived wildly in the nearby woods.

“They are used to me now,” James said, appearing in human form beside her. He walked to the nearest stall and held out his hand. The long-nosed occupant whickered and left her food to sniff his hand for treats. “We have an understanding, the horses and me. I smell like a predator, but I just have to gain their trust.”

Trust. There was that word again. In that moment she wanted to trust James, trust him completely, not just trust him not to kill her. Then she saw the blood flowing down his chin from his bleeding lip and her desire for trust vanished.

“Will you take my offer or not?” she demanded.

James sighed and patted the horse that had approached him.

“Okay,” he submitted. “You have what, half an hour left of free time?”

Mariel’s heart hammered in her chest. “My trade was a kiss. A single kiss!”

James rolled his eyes. “Your mind is dirtier than you let yourself admit. Name a topic you want to debate.”

“What?”

“I have a different solution to your little dilemma. I don’t consider myself to be a complete idiot. I have spent time studying with your favorite non-human companions in Parloipae. So pick a topic and we can discuss it and challenge your mind—which you claim is dying.”

Mariel blinked rapidly and pinched herself, not believing what she heard. Finally, she said, “Okay. Let’s discuss the morality of thievery. When is it appropriate and when is it not? What is the definition of thievery? Can you only steal material objects or is it possible to steal more? Is killing someone an act of thievery?”

“My, Mariel, you know how to pick a light topic! Here is my opinion . . .”

To her surprise, Mariel enjoyed the debate with James more than she had expected. At first she thought that maybe she had been so starved for intellectual conversation that even a low level felt good, but then she realized that James was much more intelligent than she gave him credit and the debate had been as thrilling, and as frustrating, as those she had with zreshlans. Of course, half an hour did not provide a good time frame for a complete debate, and neither was swayed in their opinions. In many areas they agreed, but even slight disagreement provoked a satisfactory debate, and when Mariel left the stable at the end of the free-period it was with a clearer head and a much lighter heart.

The following day, she planned to join James in the stables for the evening free-period again and continue their discussion. Besides the evening break, four other hour long free-periods were spaced throughout the day. The stable master worked during the day, so meeting with James at a time other than the morning exercise session was out of the question. She helped Cara with her self-defense during one of the free-periods, but the summer heat was too intense to do anything that involved sweating during the other breaks.

Instead, Mariel asked High Priestess for permission to borrow one of the religious books on the goddess Narel. She did not tell the formidable woman what she planned to do with it, and to her surprise High Priestess handed over the requested book without asking.

When Mariel returned to her and Cara’s room she pulled out several sheets of paper and stacked them on the desk. She opened the book to the first page and dipped her quill into the ink bottle and began to write.

“What are you doing?” Cara asked, momentarily stopping her needlework.

“I’m copying the text for some friends who speak a different language. They love knowledge and study different subjects, including the different ways people view gods.”

“Who are your friends?”

Mariel hesitated. Cara was her friend and she mostly trusted her, but zreshlans were too big of a secret to reveal. Many people believed zreshlans were myths or had once existed and were now extinct. The decision to reveal that the highly intelligent species existed was not hers to make.

“They raised me, and taught me well, but they don’t like being talked about.”

Cara blushed as though she had done wrong and returned to her needlepoint.

At the beginning of royal genealogy, a novice interrupted the lesson to announce that High Priestess requested the girls to move to the sitting room because guests had arrived that she wished them to greet.

“Who could be important enough that we have to greet them?” Mariel asked Cara.

Hallie overheard and volunteered the information: “Before you came, anytime another noble or relative visited the convent all the students greeted them in the sitting room and dined with them.”

Mariel knew that guests used to frequent the convent, but with her arrival, High Priestess had been sending those who arrived to the local inn instead of putting them up for the night. When a relative of one of the girls arrived she would pull the girl out and have her meet and dine with the relative in private. Mariel had neither seen nor spoken to anyone who had visited the convent since her arrival several months before, but now she was being allowed to spend time with the visitor. Who was it?

Perhaps her grandparents had sent Dreyfuss or someone else to check on her, or maybe it was a noble or highly ranked religious person who knew she was here and expected to see her. There was another option too, one that Mariel did not dare to believe, for it was one that meant she might be in sight of the end to this imprisonment. Possibly, this visitor was just one of the students’ relatives who had come for a visit and High Priestess was trusting—or testing—Mariel to behave, and would send a report back to the king and queen. The unfortunate princess could not deny that she had been much better behaved over the last few weeks, even making improvements in her classes. Maybe Mariel would be granted a little more freedom soon.

Priestess Maren led the way to the sitting room where Priestess Penelope waited for them.

“Ladies, locate a place to sit. Miss Cara, please stand near the door to greet your guests.”

The shocked expression on Cara’s face told Mariel that her friend had probably never had a visitor before. From the time she had spent as spy in Lord Stonewell’s household she was not surprised. The only relative who would want to visit Cara would be her mother, but Lord Stonewell would never permit it. So who had arrived? And why now?

“Miss Cara, Priestess Penelope asked you to take up the position of hostess.”

Cara blushed and ducked her head. “Sorry, I was surprised.”

“Your cousin Derek, and his knight master, Sir Robert Hexum of Luxurn, have come to pay a visit, and I expect you to behave appropriately, regardless of your feelings.”

Cara’s blush deepened, but she moved as instructed. Mariel was content to remain obscure and planned on behaving well. She had met Derek and Sir Robert before when she was a spy in Lord Stonewell’s household and she did not like them at all.

Derek had reached the level of squire in his training to become a knight, the same training many young noblemen underwent. He was a large boy who sweated like a pig, and Mariel did not think the August heat would help. She remembered him as being relatively quiet, but he constantly watched women, especially the maids. He had taken a special liking to Mariel and had slapped and pinched her rear multiple times and was persistent in trying to bed her. She had endured the harassment calmly, but now that she was to see him again, she hoped he would not recognize her.

She had no worries about Sir Robert of Luxurn. The short, fat man with a large bald patch in the middle of his head was a man who talked more than he listened, and his talk was often rude. Mariel hoped she could endure his visit without exploding, since she did not want to draw attention to herself. High Priestess was testing her to see how well behaved she could be around company, and Mariel intended to pass the test.

A novice appeared to announce the entrance of High Priestess, Sir Robert, and Squire Derek. The girls stood and curtsied as the small group entered and Cara nervously stepped forward and welcomed them.

Derek did not respond immediately, his eyes roved the room and its young female occupants. Those wandering eyes danced greedily and rested especially long on Isabel. When he looked at Mariel he stopped and stared. She hoped he did not recognize her.

“Lady Cara!” Sir Robert exclaimed. “You’ve sprouted into a glorious young woman. It has been a while since we’ve seen you. Right, Derek?”

Derek tore his gaze off Mariel and looked at his knight master. “Yes,” he muttered, “I was still a page.”

“And a great one at that! Your cousin is a smart boy, Lady Cara.” Sir Robert exclaimed and thumped his squire on the back.

“Er . . . yes,” Cara agreed.

“Perhaps we should sit?” High Priestess suggested.

“Oh!” Cara exclaimed, blushing again at her folly. “Yes, please sit, Sir Robert, Cousin Derek.”

As the guests moved forward, Mariel could not resist temptation. With the small, finger-length knife she kept hidden in her bodice she carefully cut Sir Robert’s bulging purse as he passed. She hid the purse in the folds of her skirts and was careful not to jostle it. When the guests and High Priestess had taken their seats, the girls and the two other priestesses sat.

“Your studies are going well?” Sir Robert inquired.

“Yes, my Lord,” Cara responded.

“You share rooms here don’t you?”

Mariel stiffened and saw High Priestess do the same. Was this the reason they had come, to view the new princess like she was a show at the fair?

“Yes.”

Sir Robert laughed loudly. “I would like to meet the young lady who is lucky enough to share a room with you. Wouldn’t you, Derek.”

“Yes, sir,” Derek said with enthusiasm. “Introduce us, please.”

“Um . . .” Cara flashed a panicked glance to Mariel and then looked to High Priestess for help.

High Priestess was quiet for a moment, while the conniving guests waited in suspense. She decided there was no polite way to refuse them. “Miss Mariel, come meet Cara’s cousin and his knight master.”

The very last thing Mariel wanted to do at that moment was comply with High Priestess’s request. She was not sure she could control her temper. Already she was angry that they had used the excuse to visit Cara as a way to catch a glimpse of the princess who had been a source of gossip since her mother had conceived her.

“Miss Mariel,” High Priestess repeated more severely.

Mariel tucked the stolen purse in the seat, took a deep breath, and rose. Delight and greed flickered in Sir Robert’s eyes as he became one of the first to glimpse the princess. Derek’s eyes roved her body, a slight smile spreading on his flabby face, but he looked back at her eyes and appeared confused.

“Have we met?” Derek asked.

Mariel was tempted to say, “Yes, slimeball, you slapped my butt and harassed me,” but bit her tongue and said, “No, we have not.”

“Your eyes look familiar.”

Mariel glared so hard at the boy he blushed and looked away.

“Mariel?” Sir Robert asked, in such a way that even the most untrained ear could tell that the surprise in his voice was fake. “It cannot be Mariel de Sharec, princess and heir to the throne of Natric? Cara, you must explain!”

However, Cara said nothing, nor did Mariel. Sir Robert and Derek scrambled to their feet, less gracefully than intended. They bowed low, but the fury burning in Mariel kept her from responding in any way. Before either could speak again, she returned to her seat, silently fuming. She gripped the stolen purse of coins to control her anger. At least many people would benefit from this visit and this thievery. Sir Robert’s purse was bulging with gold coins.

“How was your journey?” High Priestess tactfully asked, turning the conversation away from Mariel and saving Cara from trying to figure out what to say.

The two guests stared at Mariel for a moment, stunned that she had turned away from them so quickly. Sir Robert was the first to realize High Priestess had asked a question and he pulled Derek down to a sitting position and groaned loudly. “It was terrible!” the knight whined. “The weather was boiling and the flies were out in force. My horse threw a shoe, the mangy beast! And the thief!”