Bounty (18 page)

16:
Willows

G
odren lurched forward to catch her. He had given her quite a fright, but she was not opposed to him steadying her as she clawed for purchase on the wall that was slipping out from underneath her. The rush of adrenaline she suffered made the drop a far worse fate than being captured by a stranger’s arms.

Godren was all stuttering fright and apologies, having suffered quite the adrenaline rush himself.
Idiot,
he chanted over and over again to himself, humbled beyond words. What would he have done if he’d scared the princess off the wall and sent her to her death?

Catris clung to him a moment, heart racing, but drew away once she had steadied herself, finally interested in identifying Godren now that the excitement had passed. Recognizing him, a frown touched her face, but Godren was still bubbling over with concern and self-incrimination and there was no hope for her getting a word in edgewise.

“
You must not ever forgive me,” Godren was insisting, “for I could not bear the injustice of it. If you’d fallen, you must believe I would have jumped in self-sacrifice for causing such a tragedy, and that I’m humbled beyond repair from being responsible for causing you such a close call.”

Princess Catris stared at him, waiting out his tirade of self-devastation, before asking the only thing she really cared about; “What are you doing here?”

With all of his heartfelt remorse disregarded like insignificant flattery, Godren blinked as if slapped awake and opened his mouth only to find that nothing wanted to come out.

Catris waited, steady gaze pressing him for a reply.

Godren searched hard for one. “I…was in the area, and I heard the music. Then I saw you.” He scratched his neck a little sheepishly. “The wall just looked inviting. With…you on it,” he finished, realizing there was nothing else for it. “That’s the complete truth, I really do swear.” He waited with solemn, earnest eyes, willing to accept however she took his explanation.

She considered him for a moment before a sly acceptance softened her own eyes, though. “Very well, then,” she said simply, letting it pass, and blinked up at him. “If you won't tell, I won't tell.”

She was stunning this close up in the moonlight. With snowy teardrop pins glistening in her hair, and her white skirt all but glowing, she looked positively angelic. Only her dark, midnight purple bodice interrupted the saintly consistency, but it was luscious and distracting in the opposite extreme, and Godren wasn’t about to point out that it didn’t match. Only once he took a closer look at her skirt did he realize
it
was an underskirt, and was the real culprit for her mismatched attire.

“
Forgive me, your Highness,” he said, blinking, “but do you realize you’re walking on the palace wall in less than is usually…ethically desirable? You’re before the whole city, if you don’t mind me pointing it out.”

“
A whole
sleeping
city,” the princess dismissed. “Yes,” she laughed. “I do realize. But it’s impossible to get to this point with a mile of voluminous skirt wound around you trying to tag along and weigh you down, if you can imagine what I mean. It goes to tatters on the branches of the trees before I even make it onto the wall. Better just to discard it at the bottom. Usually, of course, I don’t have company.”

“
Do you want me to go?”

“
No,” she objected reassuringly. “It’s fine. You already scared me out of my wits; what’s feeling a little awkward in comparison to that?”

Godren shrugged his eyebrows. “A valid point.” He cast his eyes about what he could see of the palace grounds. “Will the guards cause us grief?”

“
Guards? Ah – no. No grief.”

Glancing at her a little quizzically, Godren tried to decipher her tone.

“
At least – well, not yet.” When Godren kept considering her oddly, she gave in and cut to the chase. “They’re asleep,” she admitted sheepishly.

“
Ahh,” he replied knowingly. “I see.”

The princess bit her lip. “Though I do tend to lose track of time when I’m up here. I don’t know… How long has it been?”

“
I’m afraid I’ve probably paid much less attention than you have,” Godren confessed.

“
Oh,” Catris laughed. “Well I suppose if we have intentions of
staying
out for any extended length of time, we’d do well to get out of sight. The guards would never allow this, if they knew I came up here, and I don’t know
what
my father would say about my scandalous dressing habits. Come on, there’s a place we can go.”

Following the princess further down the wall, Godren found himself led to an overhanging copse of willow branches that dangled from an ancient height and spilled over to the outer side of the fortification. Pushing the trailing branches aside, Catris moved into the snare of the graceful canopy. Glancing over her shoulder, she waited for Godren to follow. A little hesitantly, suddenly not believing his luck and questioning the wisdom of the princess inviting him to be alone with her, he moved forward to join her.

“
How long have you been drugging the guards?” he asked as he sat down among the draping branches, his tone halfway between conversational and conspiratorial.

“
Since last summer,” she replied, pushing a leafy stem out of her face. “The nobles went on a spree and threw about two dozen parties, and I was tired of the attention those thrust upon me. It became a constant thing, always laced up so I couldn’t breathe, dancing tirelessly with one partner after another until I was faint and starving and drunk off of the wine in their breath. For goodness’ sake, they weren’t even my parties, but I was always the most sought-after dance partner.”

“
That should not surprise you,” Godren pointed out.

“
It doesn’t – just inconveniences me, really. Anyway, I finally started going in my plain riding frock and pigtails, but Nell, my old nurse, got after me about my image. So finally I contrived to escape completely.”

“
Don’t the guards get suspicious?”

She shrugged. “I think they fall asleep either way, so they don’t want to say anything.” She turned to him, suddenly both dismissive and engaging. “So are you ever going to give me your name? I grow tired of everyone always knowing me when I know nothing of them.”

Godren’s mind blanked. “My – ah – name. It’s…plain, really.” What was he supposed to tell her? It was a miracle she hadn’t recognized him already. Then again, it
was
dark. Maybe that helped.

“
Well tell me
some
thing, if not your name.”

“
No, it’s…Ren,” he gave in, hoping that wasn’t too much.

“
Ren…” she brooded, considering him. Then she accepted it. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Paranoid, those words flashed through him full of warning. But then he realized she must just be referring to their lack of an actual introduction in the square.

“
And do I get to say I’ve officially met you?” he asked, masking his scare. “Technically, you haven’t actually introduced yourself. Like you said, we’re privileged in just…knowing. But I’d rather you gave me your name yourself.”

She looked at him, then smiled. “You know…I don’t believe I’ve ever done this before. Introductions are always more of an announcement, spoken by someone else preceding my entrance to the room. How unpersonable,” she remarked disapprovingly, scowling in realization as if she’d never thought about it before. Shrugging, she cleared her throat in preparation and drew herself up with more dignity, facing him. “I’m Cat,” she said, but her face crimped uncertainly. “Is that good?” she whispered in perplexity.

Godren laughed at her amateurish struggle, amused by her expression. “That’s perfect,” he assured her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” He had to make a conscious effort not to stare, pulling his smiling eyes away from her and concentrating on the dark gaps between the swaying willow branches. Suddenly he didn’t trust himself to say anything else, didn’t know how to go about making small talk with the princess of Raven City. His voice felt clumsy where he kept it in his throat, and he had the distinct awkward quandary that he suddenly couldn’t decide what to do with his hands. That perplexity struck him oddly – he had never given his hands a second thought.

“
So what warrants
your
notable choice of attire?” the princess asked, bold with her curiosity.

Faltering again, Godren hunted for something suitable to tell her. Curse him for jumping into the situation without at least half-way formed excuses ready at hand. He had nothing for why he was so contrastingly clad in dark, battle-scarred garb in comparison to her last, much more noble impression of him.

“
I was…adventuring,” he said.

From the corner of her eye, she cocked a sly eyebrow at him. “Adventuring,” she stated, wanting more.

“
Absolutely.”

“
What do you do on these adventures?”

Unable to meet her gaze while she pressed him so, Godren focused hard between the branches. “Breeze the streets,” he started, awkwardly at first but gaining confidence as he plowed on; “Rough it with a few fellows I know, go looking for a thrill or two – noble thrills, of course. Just typical youthful spirits stuff – braving all the dark alleys.”

“
What kind of noble thrills do you find down dark alleys?” Catris asked skeptically.

Flattering himself with the story, Godren gained the confidence to look at her. “Chasing away the bullies,” he said in a tone that asked ‘what else?’. “Making the streets safe.”

“
So you’re like an…honorable gang,” she wanted to confirm.

“
Well,” Godren allowed, “one or two of the guys are…a little disreputable.” Giving a rueful, dismissive shrug, he let that serve for the likes of Ossen and Mastodon and the rest of her company. “Like I said – youthful high spirits.” Cringing a little as Mastodon’s aging image taunted him about the half-lie, Godren tried to let the breezy branches distract him with their hypnotic motion. He could feel the princess’s eyes on his face, though, and it was a trial to keep his composure.

“
Well if it’s a noble cause,” Catris decided, “one cannot really criticize a few youthful blunders of character. Rebels will behave as they wish – if good comes of it, more power to them.”

Godren cast her a sidelong glance. “You strike me as a bit of a rebel yourself, your Highness,” he observed, betting that that’s what she was getting at. “If you don't mind me saying so.”

“
Please call me Cat; I am.”

He met her eyes, and grinned. She grinned slyly back.

Shifting as Godren took his eyes away, Catris pulled her knees to her chest and got comfortable in that position. “So how does a fellow get himself invited to join these adventures of yours?” she wanted to know. “Or do you recruit them?”

Godren turned wary, seeing immediately where she was going. “Well first of all,” he said, “you have to be a fellow.” There, that ought to be clever enough.

Catris shrugged, unbothered by the obstacle he presented. “Not an issue,” she assured him. “I can just command you to strike that rule from the book.”

“
Ah – there’s no book. It’s a crude business, Princess. Nothing you should get mixed up in, not with the image you have to uphold. And anyway, there are more rules.”

“
What makes you think I can’t break the rest of the rules too? I own the rules. I own the
law
. Call me Cat.”

Were these spoiled traces showing through, a disagreeable side of the princess he’d been blinded of until now? Or was this just her rebellious side?

“
I would not do something that would harm your position,” Godren told her. “I would not disgrace your image.”

“
What if I commanded you to, as the princess and heir of Raven City?” Catris challenged. “You cannot refuse that.”

“
Can’t I?”

“
I could put you behind bars.”

“
I would go.”

Her mouth turned stubborn, and she looked for a rebuttal to pose against that. “What if I just showed up, and tagged along?”

“
I would bend over backward to keep you out of harm’s way. That is not a responsibility I would ignore, regardless of how it fell upon me.”

After a moment of humbled consideration, the princess ducked her head in appreciation, all spoiled traces of demanding gone. “I would not put you through the trouble,” she relented. “It would be wicked of me, with you vowing noble things like that. Because I know how much trouble I can be. I’m afraid it delights me.” Resignedly, she drew on a smile of acceptance. “Well if you won’t take me along, you must promise to continue stopping by once in awhile to recount these adventures. I want to hear about them.”

An invitation to return was too tempting. The fact that he would either have to make up stories and lie to the princess or risk disclosing discretional pieces of truth was only a minimal bother in the back of his smitten mind. He knew it would flare into an issue later, but he was not about to deny the princess her wish.