“How many times have I told you to just call me Brea?”
“Yes, miss.” Emmet trotted along behind her. She found it utterly ridiculous that she spent her days caring for horses, but when it came time to leave for the palace, she had to wait for Emmet’s inept fumbling to saddle their horses for the ride back. He refused to let her help because ‘a lady should never saddle her own horse.’
“I could walk there faster,” Brea muttered, rolling her eyes when Emmet tried to give her a boost.
With her new job at the stables, Brea also had a new wardrobe much more to her liking. Today she wore tall black boots, comfortable trousers that could almost pass for leggings, and a linen tunic belted at the waist. With her long hair in a messy bun, she almost felt normal.
“Race you back to the palace.” Brea mounted her horse and trotted across the stable yard.
“Lady Brea, I won’t fall for that again. Please let me do my job and escort you home.”
“Fine. But try not to ride like my eighty-year-old granny. I’d like to get home before I die of boredom.”
Emmet’s cheeks flushed. “I was always told when escorting a great lady I should travel at a comfortable pace so as not to tax her.”
Brea snorted in a very unladylike way. “Well, I’m not a great lady, so that’s your first mistake.”
“Of course you are a lady, ma’am.” He shook his head like he thought she might be crazy. She knew that look well.
“Well, I’m not made of glass. Do you have sisters, Emmet?”
“Four, my Lady.”
“Then treat me like one of your sisters.” She glanced back at him, but she’d made it worse. He looked utterly scandalized.
“I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be proper.”
“Oh very well, Emmet. Ride ahead and make way for the Lady Brea.” She waved him on like the grand marshal in a parade. There was no way this kid thought she wasn’t weird.
They took the back roads to the palace. The queen insisted on it. She didn’t want it to become common knowledge that a guest of the palace also worked in the stables as an apprentice. It was supposedly for Brea’s own safety, but Brea thought it was more about keeping the whole switched daughter thing a secret.
Brea followed Emmet through the orchard. Large pods hung from the massive tree trunks. They looked a bit like coconuts, but the seed pods inside were more like Brazil nuts.
“Brea?” A familiar voice sounded from among the trees.
“Who’s there?” Emmet put himself between her and the voice.
Brea threw her leg over the saddle and jumped to the ground. “Finn?” Her heart lurched into her throat at what she saw. “What happened?” She dropped beside him where Lochlan rested against a tree.
Finn sank down next to her, clearly exhausted.
“Talk to me, Finn.” She moved to drape Lochlan’s arm across her shoulders. He was injured and burning with fever.
“We were ambushed, and Loch was hurt bad. We’ve been trying to get home for days.” Finn reached out to lean against the tree.
“Are you hurt?”
“No, but Loch needs help now. Take him and go. I’ll just rest here.” He sank to the ground in a faint.
“Emmet, help me get Loch on my horse.” She heaved his weight, barely managing to get him to his feet. He groaned in protest. Emmet supported his other shoulder, and they moved him toward her horse. Loch’s shirt hung in tatters around his lean frame and filthy bandages covered his middle.
They finally settled his dead weight across the saddle, and Brea climbed up behind him, careful of his injuries. “Get Finn and bring him back to the palace. I’m taking Lochlan ahead.”
“No my Lady, you must wait for me.”
“I’m not asking for permission.” Brea reared her horse around and took off through the orchard toward the palace.
“Don’t die on me, you stubborn fool.” She held on to Lochlan tightly as she charged down the dirt path that led into the canyon and the palace courtyard. She normally went home through the rear palace entrance where the kitchens were, but she needed help getting Lochlan to the healers.
Flying over the cobblestones, she raced for the palace entrance. “I need help!” She called ahead, not prepared for the palace guard to stop her.
“Halt!” Several soldiers crossed their spears barring her entrance. “What business do you have at the palace?”
“I live here, you fool! Stand aside.”
“Lady Brea,” the soldier’s tone changed. “I didn’t recognize you without your finery.”
“Let me pass. I have Lochlan O’Shea, and he’s injured.”
The guards rushed out of her way, ushering her inside the courtyard and calling for assistance.
Brea jumped off her horse and stood back out of the way while the guards carried Lochlan into the palace. “Take him to the healers now! You four, go look for Finn and Emmet. They shouldn’t be too far from the orchard.” She ran inside and headed straight for the throne room.
“Your Majesty!” she shouted. The guards moved to stop her, but she shoved past them. “Let me through. I found Lochlan.” The guards stepped aside and opened the doors for her.
“Your Majesty!” Brea stumbled into the room. The rich plush carpet at her feet tripped her up and she fell.
“Brea?” Tierney and Faolan rushed to her side. “What’s wrong?” They searched her over, looking for injuries. “Where is the blood coming from, darling?”
“Not my blood.” She gasped. “It’s Loch. He’s back and injured. Finn was with him too.”
Both queens left her on the floor and raced from the throne room. Brea glanced around at the line of commoners waiting to meet with the queens. Lords and Ladies sat in the balcony above, looking down their noses at her.
“I’ll just be leaving now.” She cast her eyes down to her feet and followed her mothers from the room.
She found them in the healer’s quarters near the queens’ residence.
“Lochlan, can you hear me?” Faolan’s frantic voice rose above the din. “Do you have news of Alona?”
“Your Majesty, please give us room to help him,” the healer insisted.
“How is he?” Brea peeked inside the crowded room.
“We don’t know yet.” Tierney joined her in the hall. “Hopefully he will wake soon and have news of Alona.”
“Alona, of course,” Brea murmured, but she was more worried about Lochlan. He was deathly pale, and she swore she could feel the heat coming off him from across the narrow room. She’d always seen him as invincible. Nothing could shake the obstinate man with the iron will. But now, he looked weak. Broken. Like a shell of himself. Brea worried he might not make it.
She turned away when the healer bared his open wound, casting the dirty bandages aside. Blood and infection oozed from his abdomen. Someone had run him through with a sword.
Brea was reminded of her own injuries and the infection that could have killed her if it wasn’t for the man lying on the table now. He’d taken her to Loch Langt to cool her fever. She just prayed the healers had everything they needed to treat him half as well as he’d cared for her.