The Lady Knight
The sun shone down brightly in my eyes, jostling me awake. I yawned, and was about to lift my right hand to cover my mouth, when I sensed my movements being restricted.
My eyes flew open on instinct. I looked down at my hand, to find it being held in a stranger's large, callused ones.
I frowned. Who was this who had the audacity to hold me captive to my own bed thus?
My bed?
How did I end up here? Last I remembered, I was working on Lord Lucien's coded message in my study. Indeed, I did not recall walking to my bedchambers.
My eyes followed the path of the stranger's arms to put a face to this stranger.
Imagine my horror when I found the Prince fast asleep on the floor beside my bed, with his head leaning against the headboard and his hands tightly holding mine.
It was all I could do not to scream my head off there and then. What in the wide world was he doing here?
I ran my free hand through my unruly curls, flustered. What would everyone say if they were to find him in my bedchamber at this moment? It was highly inappropriate and would cause a scandal that would tarnish my reputation forever.
I looked about wildly, racking my brains on what to do, when my gaze fell on the empty pot of coffee and a few Marzipan crumbs on the tray kept atop my bed side table.
I tilted my head, frowning.
This was becoming stranger by the minute. Coffee? I hated coffee. I would never willingly drink it. Unless -
Oh. The memories of last night came flooding back at that moment.
How he had brought me Marzipan and coffee.
How I had blabbered all sorts of nonsense to him in my half-asleep state.
How he had carried me to bed.
And how, absurdly, might I add, I had asked him to stay with me, to keep the bad dreams away.
Truth be told, it had worked. For the first time in a long time, I had not been troubled by any nightmares.
Biting my lower lip, I looked down at him, my cheeks bright red. I was so mortified that I wanted to repeatedly bang my head against the wall, and yet, I knew it would not be enough.
Oh, why had he come into my study when I had specifically told him, and everyone else not to?
So busy was I drowning in my own embarrassment, that I had failed to notice much earlier that he was trembling badly due to the cold, and his slightly hollowed cheeks were deathly white.
He did not even have a coat on, the inane man. Was he not aware how cruelly low the temperatures could go down to at night during these winter months?
I sighed heavily. I did not have the heart to wake him up and throw him out of my chambers. The Lord knew how difficult it would have had been for him to fall asleep in such a position, and on my insistence too.
Slowly slipping my hand out from his, I jumped off my bed and crept towards the cupboard. Rummaging through its contents, I smiled in triumph when I found an extra blanket and a pillow hidden in the dark corners.
Grabbing them, I walked towards him and gently lifted his face to put the pillow under it, before tucking the blanket around him.
He awoke at once, scowling. "What the hell - "he started to shout angrily, before he realised that it was only me, "oh."
I threw my hands up in exasperation. "Well, that was completely useless."
He sat up straight, rubbing his eyes. "Good morrow to you too, sunshine," he muttered, his deep voice still husky with sleep, "but I am afraid I do not understand what you mean."
"I brought you a pillow and a blanket, only for you to wake up and render them completely useless," I huffed, tying my hair up into a bun.
"I apologize?" it came out as a bewildered question.
My next question was already on my tongue. "Why were you sleeping without a coat or a blanket on? You could have so easily fallen ill."
He tilted his head at me. "I had hardly planned to sleep here, Julie," he drawled with a teasing glint in his eyes.
That was sufficient to set my cheeks on fire once more, and I turned away before he could notice and tease me further about it.
"All right, all right, you need not amuse yourself over it, Your Royal Highness," I muttered, "now that you are awake, I would appreciate it if you could leave this room...discreetly."
"I see you have resumed calling me 'Your Royal Highness'," he chuckled.
"Why?" I frowned, confused, "what is wrong with that? You are a Crown Prince, and that is your title, yes?"
"Aye..." he trailed off.
"Then what is the problem?"
He stared straight at me. "The problem is, that is not my name."
I was stumped. His diction rang a dim bell in my mind.
"Did you call me Nick?" the Prince queried incredulously.
"That is your name, yes?"
"Aye..." he trailed off.
"Then what is the problem?"
"Just when I think that I cannot become more stupid, I do something even more foolish that plunges my dignity into greater depths down the drain," I scowled at myself.
He burst out laughing at my mortified expression. "There is nothing foolish about that," he smiled faintly, "although, to be truthful - " he hesitated, seeming uncomfortable all of a sudden.
"Did I say anything else that I ought to remember and berate myself for the rest of my life?" I groaned, my shoulders slumping dejectedly.
"Nay, nay, it is not that," he looked everywhere but at me, struggling with words, "rather, it felt nice when you called me by my given name."
I tilted my head at him, very much confused, but waited for him to continue.
"What I mean to say is, hearing you address me by my title was rather amusing in the beginning, but it has lost its humour now," he admitted, "I have known you for almost all my life, Julie. Is such formality truly necessary?"
His grey eyes were swirling with conflict, as if he was confused by what he was asking as well.
I was speechless once more. What had triggered this? For most of our childhood, he had argued and insisted that I addressed him by his title and giving him the respect that he was entitled to as a Prince of Monrique, even though I was convinced he was not worthy of it.
Never in my wildest dreams had I expected this situation to arise. "Allow me to comprehend this," I drawled slowly, "you are asking me to call you Nick, as I used to when we were younger? Even after pestering me for years into addressing you by your title?"
He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, growing a little pink as his face fell. "How about you forget that I ever said anything? I will see you at breakfast," he muttered, and stood up, striding across the room towards the door.
My forehead creased. He seemed genuinely upset. An unfamiliar, heavy weight seemed to settle in the pit of my stomach at that moment, uncomfortable, pressing, almost urging me to do something about it.
As a result, before I knew what I was doing, I had stood up.
"Hold, Nick," I caught his arm before he reached the door, "I do not mind, if that is what you wish. I was merely startled for a moment by your request, that is all."
He turned around and looked down at me, surprised for a short second, before a beautiful, crooked smile spread across his lips, entirely transforming his features. "I will see you at breakfast, Julie," he repeated softly, before he strode out of the room.
I could only nod as he left, unable to rid the image of that smile from my mind. Sinking down on my bed, I exhaled sharply, unable to comprehend why I felt so disoriented all of a sudden.
Clearly, I was losing my mind due to the stress.
***
I stared at the crumpled piece of parchment in which I had written down Lucien's string of numbers, as I gulped down a glass of fresh orange juice, washing down the remnants of breakfast in my mouth.
"The Crown Prince finally managed to break you out of your prison, then?" a lilting voice spoke behind me at that moment, almost causing me to spew out my orange juice like I had during my first breakfast in Tessensohn.
I turned around to find Camille striding towards me from the dining hall, grinning as if she knew something I did not.
"Whatever do you mean?" I frowned.
She always spoke in riddles I never understood, but especially today, I did not have much patience to try and figure out the real message. I already had a coded letter in my hand that I was trying to decode for weeks now, thank you.
"The poor bloke was missing you at the dinner table yesterday," she shot me a gentle smile, leaning against the kitchen counter top beside me, "it was so adorable. Is there something between you both that you would like to tell old Mila about?" She arched her eyebrows impishly.
My eyes widened in horror as I realised what she was implying. "Hell nay! Remove your mind from the drain, woman," I hissed, as colour rose rapidly to my cheeks, "there is nothing between us but a truce."
Even as I uttered those words, however, I knew they were not fully true. The Prince - I mean, Nick - and I were still on a truce, but the commitment did not feel so forced anymore.
I no longer felt the need to worry when he would blow up in my face next, or when his next maliciously cutting remark would damage my mind beyond repair for the next few days.
He felt somewhat like a friend now, after the last three weeks of the Potential Quest, and most definitely after what he had done for me last night. Not quite like how Camille and the rest of the Ladies of Cavarriere were to me, but somewhere near there.
Yet, I still faintly harboured the same, old suspicion that things between us might return to normal after the Potential Quest. By normal, I meant fighting and arguing like several pairs of cats and dogs caged up in a single cage that was Bordeux Castle.
But as to what Camille was implying - now that was utterly ridiculous.
She burst out laughing. "You should look at your face now, Jules," she shook her head in amusement, "you know I was merely jesting around. Sometimes you are too easy to tease."
But there was a strange, knowing glint in her eyes that seemed to convey another message altogether.
I glared at her, feeling foolish. "Keep your silence, Camille," I went back to sipping my orange juice, "in any case, is there a reason why you sought out my charming company so early in the morning?"
She did not seem to have heard me and was staring at my hand instead. "What is that?" she asked curiously, as she pointed to the parchment in my other hand that was not holding the glass of orange juice.
I glanced at it. "Oh, this?" I held it up, "well, if you consider my study a prison, then this parchment is the crime I committed to be locked in it."
She smiled amiably. "Indeed?" she drawled, "a single piece of parchment caused you to spend 3 days locked up in your own chambers? I find that hard to believe, my friend. Not after you took so many of my books captive with you."
I sighed heavily. When she put it that way, it indeed seemed ridiculous that a piece of parchment was causing me so much trouble.
"It is a coded message, Camille," I huffed in frustration, "and the Prince may have broken me out of my prison, but I am still bound to this parchment until I find out its contents."
Her eyes lit up in excitement. "Mayhap I could help you. I love code-cracking," she suggested, "in any case, you have nothing to lose." She made her eyes huge and wide, pleading with me.
I tilted my head, considering. The messages and letters were not a secret until they could be decoded. In addition, Camille was a very intelligent Lady, much more so than many of the men in our country. What had I to lose in allowing her to attempt the decoding where I had failed?
Who knows, she might succeed.
"Oh, all right," I handed her the parchment, "but do give me the good news soon, will you not?" I grinned at her, ruffling her hair.
She all but grabbed it from my hands, and eagerly looked through it. A small frown formed between her brows, as her eyes flew across the page with great speed.
Her grip on the parchment tightened suddenly, and she blinked at the parchment several times, as if unable to believe her eyes.
"What is the matter?" I tensed.
"When we were young, do you remember playing treasure hunt around Bordeux Castle with our peers?" she slowly asked me instead, looking up at me from the parchment.
I nodded. Every first Sunday of a month, a game called treasure hunt was played among the children. Everyone formed teams of two, and usually one of the other Lords or Ladies who were not playing bought or made 'treasures' to be hidden in the various corners of the Castle and the clue cards leading to them.
The team who managed to find all the objects using the clue cards first could keep all the 'treasures' that they had found, and they would also win another prize of sorts.
I had loved playing when I was younger, and won the game a fair few times as well. Kat and I used to pair up to form a team, while Lisa joined Evoric, as expected.
"Do you recall one time where the clue cards were written in code?" Camille persisted.
"The clue cards were written in code?" I blinked, startled.
I did not know. Mayhap I had been ill, and had not participated on that particular Sunday.
"Aye, on that specific Sunday, Lucas of Derelia had been in charge of writing the clue cards and organising the treasure hunt. And the idiot had written all the clue cards in code - a code that he had invented by himself," she remembered darkly, "almost no one had been able to decode it, and almost no one had been able to find any of the objects he had hidden because of this."
"Almost no one?" I had a bad feeling about this.
"Yes. Only one person had been able to decode the cards, and he and his teammate won that Sunday," she answered, her tone grave, "and that was his brother, Lucien of Derelia. Even I had only been able to decode it after the game ended. How he managed to figure it out so fast was beyond me."
I grew breathless. "So - "
She nodded. "That code Lucas had used to write the clue cards and the code in this letter are one and the same."
I clutched her arm, intense excitement flooding me upon realising that the answer was so close to my reach. "Please teach me to decode it," I whispered, "this instant."
She willingly proceeded to show me the parchment. I looked at the numbers again, as I had so many times over the last few weeks.
512301404725 911614709307108520
320508605725 701318805 203015613109314507 606315818 113505. 209 104815 214515720 608901522405 513721803208 320509713305 712805306120. 419115713305915614805 509819 720818325709314107 520615 211509312912 315506206 520608305 918615825101312 706401913409612225. 820308505 203918315623714 216718509714203405 709819 909214 607818505301920 704801514707605918. 316718815120305503220 708309013. 708409819 620723609314, 116318209614203905 418609303708801918104, 319720809312512 112809422305419. 723101618423809303811 708315112604319 908509813 303601716820109422805 109614 708309819 208415621119505. 806209914104 808409713.
"All right, look at the first string of numbers before the spacing," she instructed, pointing to it, "512301404725. Now, for every three numbers in it, remove the first number behind it. What do you get?"
I stared hard. "12...01...04...25."
"Good," she smiled in approval, "now, you have these four numbers, yes? Think, what does each of these four numbers represents in the English Alphabet? For instance, what does the number 12 represent?"
My eyes went round, and I felt as if I had attained Nirvana. "The letter 'L' is the twelfth alphabet," I murmured "by God, the first string of numbers code for the word...Lady! Camille, you are a genius!"
"Come, let us decode the whole message now," she beamed at my praise, and together, we proceeded to read it out loud, stammering and stuttering softly.
Lady Knight,
They are coming for me. I do not have much time left. Someone is trying to kill off the royal family. The Crown Prince is in great danger. Protect him. His twin, Prince Richard, still lives. Warwick holds him captive in his house. Find him.
The message left my mind reeling, as Camille and I stared at each other in shock and horror, well aware of the weight of the words we had just read.
Richard was alive.
***
I clasped my hands together on the table, looking solemnly around at the Captains around me. They gazed back at me, some with confusion, some with concern and the others with curiosity. Throughout these three weeks of Potential Quest, never had I once called for a meeting.
But the circumstances now were such that I had to.
"Good evening, Captains," I began quietly, "there is something I wish to inform and instruct you about, and I would like you all to listen to me very, very carefully. Is that all right?"
They nodded, their shoulders tensing up at once, as they exchanged blank looks. I could sense what they were thinking. Our week in Cavarriere had been a most delightful and enjoyable one, and there had been no cause for worry or danger.
My Captains, in particular, found Lords Jasper and Carl great company to keep, as compared to Lord Auguste in Tessensohn. Even I had had my own share of enjoyment, and they had known and seen that.
It was clear from their faces that they were wondering what one day did to change my demeanour so drastically.
"Is everything all right, Ma'am?" Captain Dupont queried in his all too fatherly concern, "you seem rather anxious."
"Nay, all is not well, Captain Dupont," I sighed, taking a deep breath, "I am certain that all of you were aware of the fact that, in addition to my Potential Quest duties, I have also undertaken the responsibility to investigate the murders of the Derelia brothers, and the four murders that preceded them."
"Aye, Ma'am," they murmured in sync.
"Well, recent developments in the case have compelled me into having to go on a certain mission...alone," I worded it carefully, "and I am leaving Cavarriere tonight."
Shock was plain on their faces.
"Alone?" Captain Everard tensed, "but Ma'am - "
"I will be fine. I am well able to defend myself should the need arise," I cut him off, reassuring him, "but that is not the current problem. The problem is, I will not return for a few days yet. And if I am not mistaken, we have to leave tomorrow for the next duchy."
"Aye, according to schedule, we have to leave Cavarriere tomorrow morning, and reach Vareniol by nightfall," Captain Wellington put in helpfully.
"Thank you, Captain Wellington. Truth be told, I think I will only be able to come to Vareniol mid next week. In the meanwhile, I would like you all to bring the Crown Prince safely to Vareniol and keep a very close eye on him." I paused here for a while, and allowed my words to sink in, before continuing.
"His meals have to be tasted by someone before he eats, he has to be accompanied by at least one of you wherever he goes, and the Vareniol Manor security must be at its peak at all times."
"You must make sure of this. Vareniol is the duchy of the late Lord Pierre, who was one of those who were murdered recently," I reminded them solemnly, "and therefore, you must be especially alert. Is that clear?"
The usually quiet Captain Percival, who was sitting next to me, hesitantly placed a hand on my shoulder. "Ma'am, you know we will always do our best to protect His Royal Highness from all harm," he assured me, his gravelly voice sounding soothing, "embark on the mission with full focus, and worry not about His Royal Highness or any of us here. We will take care of everything while you are gone."
There were several nods of agreement to his words, and thankfully, none of them probed into what this 'mission' was. Indeed, I did not intend to speak about it to anyone, at least until I had Richard within my grasp.
"And with your permission, I will also act as his advisor in your absence," Captain Everard volunteered reluctantly, "I may not be the most patient, but I will be able to handle it."
I nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thank you, all of you," I smiled weakly, "I am certain I can depend on you. And -" I hesitated, suddenly discomfited.
"Aye, Ma'am?"
"If I do not reach Vareniol by next Friday, it will mean something has gone wrong," I ventured, "in that case, an eighteen-year-old girl named Evangeline will come to you and inform you. After which, Captain Everard will continue being His Royal Highness' advisor until the end of the Potential Quest, and all of you will continue to assist him as you now do for me."
A horrified silence reigned for a long while, before a war broke out.
"What?"
"Ma'am, if it is life-threatening, then at least bring some of us on this mission with you!"
"We cannot lose you, Ma'am!"
Such were the outbursts that were tossed rather loudly about the chamber. I fearfully glanced at the door, wondering if anyone outside could hear. Among all the protests by all the Captains around me, only Captain Dupont remained silent.
"You have nothing to say, Captain Dupont?" I offered him a twisted smile.
The Captains stopped shouting at once upon hearing those words and fell silent once more.
Captain Dupont merely raised an eyebrow at me. "Have you informed His Royal Highness that you are leaving tonight, Ma'am?"
How had he known that I had not told Nick?
My countenance was empty. "I did not find it necessary that I should."
A small, sad smile spread across his lips. "Somehow, I doubt that His Royal Highness will share your opinion on that, Ma'am."
He was right. I knew well that Nick would be furious when he discovered that I had left without telling him. However, I dared not tell him for fear he would try and wheedle the nature of this mission out of me, through his relentless, stubborn inquisition.
Truth be told, we had been getting along so well these few weeks, that I suspected that I might blurt out the truth to him within minutes into his interrogation.
Thus, I decided that I would not risk such a blunder.
I pretended to arrange my pieces of parchment as I answered him. "Captain Dupont, it is not necessary that he should share my opinion on that," I let out a sharp breath, "he is neither my King, my father or my husband. I do not need to keep him informed of where I am going or what I am doing or what I intend to do - "
"Ma'am," Captain Dupont cut me off, his voice grave.
I stopped, surprised that he had dared to interrupt me thus. The others watched us with wide eyes, unable to comprehend what was going on.
"That lad clearly cares for you, Ma'am," he continued in that same solemn voice, "if there is even the slightest chance that you may not survive this mission, then you should tell him. For his sake, at least, if not for yours."
I stared at him as if he had grown two heads. "The Crown Prince? Caring for me?" I spluttered out, incredulously, "tasteful jest, Captain Dupont, but I am afraid it does not apply here."
Truly, what was wrong with everyone's minds? First it had been Camille in the morning, and now it was Captain Dupont. The only difference was, Camille was merely jesting around, while Captain Dupont seemed perfectly serious.
Yet, I could not forget that knowing glint in Camille's eyes even as she had assured me she was jesting.
Had she been serious too?
I did not have the time or the patience to ponder over that at the present. "In any case, Captain Dupont, there is a valid reason why I do not wish to inform him of my departure," I composed myself, "with that hot-tempered mind of his, no doubt he would wish to come after me during the mission. And we cannot have that, can we?"
Captain Dupont shook his head and said nothing. I was grateful for that.
I stood up and flexed my fingers. "Then, Captains, this is where I bid you farewell."
***
"Jules, be careful, all right?" Camille fussed, attaching my sacks onto Aurora, "do make sure that - "
"That I am always on the lookout for petty brigands. That I always have my sword at the ready. That I travel closely along the course of River Susan. That I rest once every few hours and drink lots of water to sustain me in this cold weather," she had told me the rules so many times that I had memorised them, "yes, Mother dearest, I will be extra careful." I gave her a cheeky grin.
She laughed and cupped my cheek affectionately. "You know I cannot help but worry about you," she sighed, "you are always so reckless. However, I think this is the most insane mission out of all those you have told me of before. You are all but charging into a lion's den alone andwithout proper preparation."
"Mayhap, with more planning, it might have been safer," I mused, "but Lucien had written this message almost a month ago. Anything could have happened to Richard in this delay. Before anything else can happen, I need to find him and rescue him from Lord Warwick."
She nodded, worried. "I still cannot believe it," she muttered, "Prince Richard being alive is shocking enough, but that Lord Evoric's father is holding him captive? That is unbelievable."
I nodded grimly. The only way Camille and I could interpret the line 'Warwick holds him captive in his house' in Lucien's coded message was that Evoric's father, Lord Anthony, Earl of Warwick has Richard imprisoned in Warwick Manor.
In any case, we would not know if it was true or not for certain until I found out for myself.
"I am aware," I sighed heavily, "do take care of yourself in the meanwhile, will you not? I will meet you at the Potential Quest Ball in Bordeux in two months' time."
If I return alive, I wanted to add, but I knew Camille might stop me from going if I did.
She impulsively stepped forward to give me a brief hug. "All the best," she mumbled, "and stay safe."
I nodded, and mounted Aurora before riding out of the Cavarriere Manor stables into the dark night, filled with bleakness and uncertainty for the future.