raped her.”
The furrows bracketing his mouth became deeper. He nodded.
Innis settled back on the pillows. “Seems to me you did the right thing, sire.”
Petrus jerked his head around to glare at her.
The prince blinked. “What?”
If I was raped, I hope someone would punish my attacker the way you punished me. Innis rephrased the words: “If my sweetheart, Doutzen, said she’d been raped, I’d have done exactly what you did.”
“I...” Prince Harkeld blinked again, and then his expression hardened. “I should have given you a chance to speak.”
“You were angry.” She glanced at Petrus. He was still glaring at her. She transferred her gaze back to the prince. “You made a mistake.”
A baffled frown creased Prince Harkeld’s brow. “You forgive me?”
Innis considered this question, and then nodded. “Yes, sire.”
The prince swallowed. “Thank you.” For a moment he was silent, then he asked: “Will you continue to be my armsman?”
Petrus stiffened.
“You still want Justen as your armsman?” Dareus’s voice was neutral.
“Of course,” Prince Harkeld flushed. “That is...if he’s willing.”
“Yes,” Innis said. “I am.”
The prince’s face relaxed slightly. Not a smile, but not as grim as it had been. “Thank you.”
Petrus opened his mouth.
“Justen needs to rest now,” Dareus said firmly. He spoke to the prince, but his eyes were on Petrus. “There’s still some healing to be done before we leave tomorrow.”
Petrus closed his mouth, glowering.
“Of course,” Prince Harkeld said. He turned to Dareus. “Thank you for healing Justen.” His gaze shifted to Petrus. “Thank you.”
Dareus nodded acknowledgement of his thanks. After a moment, Petrus did too, a stiff movement of his head.
The prince glanced at her. “I shall see you tomorrow, Justen.” He hesitated and then said again, “Thank you.”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Petrus demanded once the prince had gone. “He doesn’t need you any more! He can have one of King Magnas’s men.”
“He’ll be safer with a mage,” Dareus said.
“Not Innis,” Petrus said, pushing to his feet. ‘‘Not after this!”
“I’m a Sentinel,” Innis said. “It’s my duty to protect him.”
Petrus swung around to face her. “You don’t have to prove yourself—”
“I’m not. I’m trying to keep him alive.”
His jaw clenched. He crossed the room with angry strides, wrenched the door open, and slammed it behind him.
Dareus sighed. “Ignore him, Innis. He’s tired.”
She nodded, her eyes on the door. It wasn’t like Petrus to lose his temper. “He doesn’t like the prince.”
“No.” Dareus rubbed his face wearily. “Come, let’s finish this. Would you like to shift back to yourself first?”
GERIT CAME TO visit her when the shutters had been closed for the night. Innis sat up in the bed, playing cards with Petrus. “I’m sorry, girl,” Gerit said. He had a tankard of mead in one hand.
“For what?”
Petrus laid down the last of his cards. “You win.”
“For not stopping him.” Gerit scowled and pulled up a chair. “He was too fast for us. Took off like a ruddy hare. The guardsmen lost sight of him and ran the wrong way—” He gestured with his tankard. “I followed my nose, but there was this door, see? Couldn’t open the cursed thing with my paws.” He made a sound of disgust. “So I shifted and opened it and there was a serving maid on the other side.”
Petrus grunted. The sound was almost, but not quite, a laugh.
“What did she do?” Innis asked.
“Screamed loud enough to wake the dead and threw her tray at me.” Gerit grimaced.
Innis laughed. “What happened then?”
“I shifted back into a dog and followed the prince, barking my head off. The guards caught up in the end.” Gerit’s grin faded. “We were half a minute behind him. A minute at the most.”
“He did all that to me in a minute?” Her respect for the prince’s fighting skills rose.
“I think the stairs did most of it.”
Petrus had stopped smiling. His expression was grim. He picked up the cards they’d played.
“I don’t remember,” Innis said.
“Just as well.” Gerit heaved himself out of the chair. He stood for a moment scowling at her. “If he tries anything like that again, I’ll wring his neck for him. Stupid whoreson.”
He’s not stupid. Innis bit her tongue, holding back the words, and watched Gerit leave. He didn’t like the prince any more than Petrus did.
HARKELD DINED WITH the king and his sons. He would rather have dined alone; his mood was black. After the meal, King Magnas pushed back his chair and walked to a chest beneath the shuttered windows. The wood was dark with age and bound with thick bands of iron. “Harkeld?”
“Sir?”