Then he released her, so suddenly she wondered if she’d imagined that the moment was prolonged. He had just one hand on her good shoulder now, as he held her at arm’s length to try to see the wound. Her eyes caught the large splash of red on his tunic, and she winced.
“I’ve stained your shirt.”
“Never mind that,” he said incredulously. “I’m more concerned about the fact that you’re bleeding everywhere!”
He flagged the medic with an impatient air, moving back to allow the other man access to Flora.
“What happened, Flora?” the prince pressed, as Flora submitted to the man’s examination. “Was there a second arrow?”
She shook her head. “No, the same arrow.”
“The same arrow?” Prince Cassius repeated. “What do you mean? Surely it didn’t nick you on the way past and then hit me as well?”
“Something like that.” Flora tried to communicate with her eyes, but he wasn’t getting it.
She gave up quickly, closing her eyes against the pain as the medic began to clean the wound. If the prince wanted to keep their situation quiet, he’d have to figure it out by himself.
“It certainly looks like an arrow wound,” the medic guard said, poking at it one last time before he started to bind it.
“Is she in danger?” the prince asked.
“I don’t think so, Your Highness,” the guard said. “It’s actually a very similar wound to yours, although considerably worse.”
“Twice as bad, perhaps?” Flora muttered wryly.
She snuck a look at the prince as she spoke and saw his eyes widen with realization. The expression that followed was harder to read. Whatever he was feeling, though, it wasn’t a pleasant emotion. She saw his eyes travel over her shoulder, and turned to see the focus of that stony gaze. It was Lord Armand, in discussion with a pair of guards further down the road.
“I think that should stop the bleeding.” The medic guard drew Flora’s attention back to his task as he finished binding her wound. “She should be ableto travel.”
“Of course I can travel,” Flora said quickly, carefully flexing the newly treated shoulder. “We should get over the border as promptly as we can.”
Prince Cassius looked unconvinced, but his guards were quick to push the group forward again. They would all be easier once they were back in their own kingdom, no doubt. Even Flora would be happy to leave Torrens.
She once again rode behind the prince, clenching her jaw against the jostling of the horse’s gait on her shoulder. She was glad to be mounted, though, as it allowed her to eavesdrop when the head guard pulled his horse alongside the prince’s to make another report.
“We’ve been unable to find any trace of the third man’s flight, Your Highness. The bodies of the other two men have been thoroughly checked, and they carried nothing that would identify them. They had Torrenese coins, however.”
Flora could hear the prince’s frown in his voice. “That doesn’t tell us anything beyond the fact that they were currently traversing Torrens, which of course we already knew.”
“It was a significant sum, Your Highness,” the guard said. “Consistent with mercenaries.”
“You think someone hired mercenaries to kill me on my journey home?” Prince Cassius asked incredulously. “And they sent only three?”
“I don’t know what I think, Your Highness,” the guard said. “Other than that it was a very poorly planned attack, however you look at it.”
He glanced backward, not looking pleased to see that Flora was listening in.
“I’ve been notified that the arrow grazed the new guard before hitting you, Your Highness. Perhaps you were notthe target. Given the last attack was directed at Princess Miriam, and you were intending to be traveling this route with Her Highness, it’s possible they thought they were taking aim at her.”
Prince Cassius shook his head. “I hardly think someone would confuse Flora for a royal princess, man.”
Flora made a wry grimace. It was a good thing she was thick-skinned.
“If someone had never seen Princess Miriam before, Your Highness—” the guard started.
“I’m not talking about her face,” said Prince Cassius impatiently. “I’m talking about her attire. She’s dressed like a guard. Did you see the impractical—dare I say startling—gown the princess was wearing when we met her delegation? She’d be in a carriage, not riding beside me dressed in breeches.”
Flora’s heart lifted a little. Fool that she was, it felt good to know he’d been speaking of her clothes rather than her when he’d been so dismissive of her being mistaken for anyone important. She dimly recognized the danger of her reaction. But it was hard to keep her thoughts in line when the memory of the prince’s arms around her kept trying to intrude.