Once Upon a Castle - Jill Gregory [111]
Tressalara was unable to move. It wasn’t fear or even the strength of her captor that held her in thrall, but his aura of masculine presence. Her heart banged against her ribs, and her knees felt wobbly. It took her breath away. She had never experienced anything like it before. Her helplessness transformed itself into anger.
He pushed her toward the bench. “You interest me. Sit down and tell me your name…and why a healthy if somewhat spindly youth has to steal his supper rather than work for it. If I like the answer I will buy you a meal.”
All Tressalara’s desire for food was momentarily forgotten. She bit her lip, trying to obliterate the tingling memory of his firm and calloused palm against her mouth. By the saints, the man was strong! She took in a breath and let it out in a rush. “My name is Trev. I tried to find work. None would hire me for fear I was a spy.”
At Cador’s signal, a tavern wench came over, bearing another trencher overflowing with meat and dumplings. She set it before Tressalara. “Looks like ‘e could use some fattening up.”
The enticing smell of the food almost brought tears to Tressalara’s eyes. Her stomach rumbled so loud the others heard it. She was mortified. Cador leaned down, a flicker of laughter in his eyes.
“Hungry? Help yourself. Oh, but one little question first.”
Turning his back to the room, Cador picked up her fallen dagger and stuck it into the table. It quivered in the wood, light reflecting from the golden hilt and the cabochon amethysts engraved with dragons.
“An interesting bauble for a starving lad. And rather inappropriate under the circumstances. I imagine it is worth a good deal.”
The tension was thick. Tressalara had no choice but to tell the truth once more and hope she was believed. “It belonged to my mother,” she said with quiet dignity. “A gift from the king.”
Cador tipped back his head and laughed. “An unlikely story, yet I somehow believe you.”
Brand rubbed his chin. “And I. Though who would have thought it of Varro. The man appeared too devout a husband to keep a doxy on the side. He seemed besotted with his lovely queen.”
Tears of rage and loss sprang to Tressalara’s eyes. She coughed, pretending it was the smoke of the hearth fire. She dared not defend her innocent father’s reputation, though, or it might make them question her identity further. Cador clapped her on the back, far harder than she deemed necessary.
“Eat up, lad. You have earned your supper. I have need of a quick fellow to help care for our horses. Would you be interested in joining us? We offer plenty of food, a few coppers for your purse, and enough adventure to fill a dozen scrolls.”
She hesitated. Perhaps she could use the situation to her advantage. She could hide in plain sight, keep an ear out for news of her adversary, and try to discover loyal supporters for her cause. No one would suspect that a humble groom was the missing princess.
“The lad looks too soft and puny to ride all day and sleep on the hard ground at night.”
She fixed Brand with an angry look. “I can ride like the wind!”
“Oh? And where is your horse, then?”
That silenced her. Cador looked amused.
Brand set down his tankard again. “What a shame that the Princess Tressalara has fled the castle, Cador. Otherwise you might have used your fabled charm and had a feather bed to share with her this night, instead of a flea-bitten mattress at a common inn.”
Tressalara went rigid. Cador!
There was only one man by that name: Cador of Kildore. Her first reaction was shock to find herself sitting beside the outlaw reputed to be the most dangerous man in the Four Kingdoms of the West. The insult to herself registered a few seconds later.
The outlaw chief laughed at Brand’s quip. “Perhaps it is just as well. I prefer a more winsome and willing tavern wench to the crown princess. Word is that she has the temper of an angry wasp and the face of a troll!”
Stung, Tressalara set down the tankard of ale that she’d been served. “You are wrong, sir.