Page 115 of Arrows and Gems
“Of course,” he said, understanding in every line of his face. “Again, I apologize for the treatment that you received in my kingdom. My failure to bring Le Capuchon to justice hasled to more suffering for you, Your Highness.”
“Please, call me Helena,” she murmured demurely. She didn’t know General Valentin well enough to read him accurately, but he seemed as pleased by the offer as anyone else.
Except Tobias. But someone on a first-name basis with her brother and lacking any semblance of ambition was unlikely to care about such trivial things.
The General stood. “I shall see to the arrangements. Will you accompany me?”
“Actually,” she said, taking another careful sip, “I would like to remain here a little longer and finish my tea, if you do not mind.”
She let a tiny smirk lift one corner of her mouth. Turning docile too quickly might seem suspicious. “After all, you wouldn’t want me to make a sudden dash for freedom, steal one of your horses, and ride away to warn Le Capuchon of all your secret plans to capture him.”
General Valentin’s lips twitched. “No, I wouldn’t. Very well, you may finish your tea. But I will leave one of my men outside the door, just in case you get any ideas.”
He winked, but Helena wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he meant it completely in jest. Men didn’t reach his position without a sensible head on their shoulders. Besides, now that her own head wasn’t so fuzzy, she could recall what she hadn’t the night before. She knew what his men had been doing the last few months.
As for Cap – even if the General was correct that Jean-haut wanted the Ralnoran princess on Prince Raphael’s side, he could be wrong about the reason. After all, they only had the testimony of the prince, his personal guard, and his best friend to prove the prince’s innocence. Not very convincing witnesses against a respected general.
Once she was alone, Helena stood, carrying her saucer inone hand and the teacup in the other. She strolled casually about the office, examining the walls as if politely interested in General Valentin’s décor. When she passed behind his desk, she set her teacup back on the saucer and let her right hand drift down to carefully tug on the desk drawers. To her disappointment, they were locked. A cursory inspection of the desktop revealed nothing more interesting than hastily scrawled notes about his new captives.
Wandering to the wall, she peered curiously at the painting that the General had studied during her interrogation. A middle-aged man with black hair and a beautiful auburn-haired woman sat in thrones. Behind them stood two teenage boys and a teenage girl, all with the same auburn hair as their mother. She’d never met the Amitian royal family, but even without their crowns, the man’s resemblance to her Aunt Chloe identified them.
She studied the painting for a few minutes. The artist had painted King Antoine with the kind expression Helena had imagined based on the stories she had been told. She wished she could have met him.
Queen Valerie was beautiful, but Helena was less excited about meeting her. Everything she’d heard suggested that she and the queen would not suit well.
Moving on, she studied the other faces that she had heard about but never seen. Prince Cedric, the youngest, looked shy. Princess Daphne had a mischievous tilt to her mouth that made Helena wish to meet her. And the last, Prince Raphael. The young man that General Valentin claimed had murdered his own father.
He didn’t look like a murderer. But then, neither did the General.
The prince’s serious eyes stared back at her from the painting. Did he have friends to keep him company wherever Jean-haut and Cap had sent him to hide? Was he locked away in a tower, safe from the General but miserable and alone, separated from his family and friends immediately after learning of his father’s death?
Unwanted. Abandoned. Alone.
Perhaps Helena could continue the hunt for his sake as well.
~
Helena spent much of the next three days ingratiating herself to the General. Feigning interest in a man a decade and a half her senior whom she suspected of murder made her skin crawl, but she needed him to warm up to her. How else would she gain access to his papers or free her friends?
On the final morning of their journey, General Valentin offered his arm to her as they left the outpost. She took it but kept her hood up as they passed the line of wagons.
“Is it a long day of riding today?” Helena asked delicately. She’d been trying to appear demure, as if her earlier behavior had been a byproduct of fear and adrenaline. “I’m not used to this much riding, and my muscles are so stiff.”
The General raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you travel to Amitié on horseback?”
“Yes, but I didn’t make the trip in three days,” she laughed. Only couriered messages moved that fast. “I had been riding for three or four weeks when your men rescued me from Le Capuchon.”
“Indeed?” His other eyebrow joined the first. “I thought you were an accomplished horsewoman. I expected you to make that trip in a week and a half at most.”
She hadn’t counted on that tidbit reaching Amitié. Making her grin conspiratorial, she leaned in and said, “I may like to ride fast, but that doesn’t mean that I like to ride long.”
“I see.” He nodded in understanding. “Then you need not fear, Helena. We should reach Laurier mid-afternoon. I am certain that Lord Luther will be eagerly awaiting your arrival.”
She couldn’t help her scowl at the mention of her unwanted suitor. “Yes. Luther.”
General Valentin’s forehead wrinkled. “You do not seem eager to be reunited with him. Is he an unwelcome visitor in Amitié?”
She hesitated. If the General escorted Luther to the border, her brother might replace him. And Axel had the authority to haul her home. “It is not so much that he is unwelcome,” she said carefully, weighing her words. “He simply has unfounded hopes for the future. And I have struggled to make him understand that.”
