Eleven: Exchanging One Criminal Fiancé for Another

Thanks to aseretoynok for your support!!

Valentin didn’t give me time to ask any questions. He pulled me up by the arm before I could put my ‘trip him and run’ plan into play and marched me to the door.

“Oh,” he said, pausing with his hand on the knob. His hand tightened painfully on my arm, and I hissed. “And by the way, your name is Trevor Lyndsen right now. Don’t worry about impersonating anyone – Trevor Lyndsen doesn’t exist, but that’s your name now, so remember it.”

Uh – okay?

And then he pulled me out the door. The second we were out where people could see us, his grip loosened and switched to my shoulder instead. From the outside, it appeared like a friendly embrace, but only I could feel the way his fingers dug into my shoulder like he wished he could wrench it out of its socket.

Just outside the door to the room was a guard with a sword buckled to his waist and a silver helmet over his head. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen, with wispy stubble that I’m sure he treasured growing in patches over his chin. He stood to attention when he saw Valentin and nodded to him respectfully.

…Could the prince have gotten anyone less threatening to guard me?

Valentin led me down a corridor lined with white columns. The spaces in between the columns were hung with pretty green tapestries, just above them were windows letting in the warm midday sun. A gaggle of girls in gray servant dresses came towards us from down the hall, bowing their heads nervously at Valentin. As soon as we passed, I could hear them frantically whispering among themselves, casting shy glances back at us.

I tried to pay attention to the route we took, taking notes for when I tried to escape later, because no matter what Valentin said, I knew this wasn’t going to end well for me.

I could basically pick up what Valentin’s intentions were. There must be something going on with Beatrice’s engagement. Either the next suitor her parents had lined up was no better than Ewan, or more likely, my little act as Darren had caused some issues.

While I had definitely permanently eliminated Ewan as an option for betrothal, the fact that ‘Darren Faraman’ was madly in love with the princess was now public knowledge. Everyone was expecting Darren to marry the princess.

The problem with that was that the real Darren Faraman had no fucking clue about any of this. But the princess still had to marry ‘Darren’ or else some very interesting questions would come up. If I had escaped the country like I originally planned, everyone would have figured out rather quickly that it was the match breaker’s doing.

But then, of course, people would wonder who exactly hired the match breaker to meddle in the princess’s engagement. And while I’m sure the king and queen would investigate any other possible suspect first, the fact that the princess cooperated in ‘Darren’s’ act indicated quite clearly that she was at least in on it. For the crime of colluding with a famous criminal to break her own engagement, the princess likely wouldn’t suffer any severe punishment, but her life would be significantly impacted by that stain.

And while I knew very well that that was going to occur – and the princess did as well – it really wasn’t my problem. I’d only been hired to break her engagement, not handle the aftermath.

But then Valentin decided to stick his nose into it. He was not a heartless brother, that much was clear. He didn’t want his sister to suffer. And apparently, the only way he could think of to protect her temporarily was to pretend that ‘the match breaker’ had not been involved at all, and someone really did interrupt the princess’s betrothal out of jealousy.

But he still had to deal with the ‘Darren’ issue. The real Darren Faraman obviously had not done any of this, and he couldn’t let me pretend to be Darren in front of the king and queen.

So what was up with ‘Trevor Lyndsen’? I could only assume that he created this identity for me with the excuse that ‘Trevor’ had decided to impersonate a noble to break the princess’s engagement. Why would someone do this, though? The only reason that someone would need to impersonate a noble to interrupt a royal engagement, aside from that person being the match breaker, is because this ‘Trevor’ character is a commoner. If my new identity was noble, I could very well have just asked for the princess’s hand in marriage long ago.

Engagements between royals and commoners aren’t forbidden, but they are heavily frowned upon. Royal marriages are used to create alliances and strengthen relationships in the court. Wasting one of their daughter’s marriages on a commoner would be very disadvantageous to the king and queen.

So really, it seemed to me that I was going to be executed regardless, no matter who I pretended to be. Even if I did cooperate, and decided to become Trevor, I was still guilty of impersonating a noble, and the king and queen wouldn’t want to give their daughter to a commoner, especially not one that is clearly a criminal.

And not to mention, the king would certainly question my skill in disguises and how I had gotten the information on the Count when the prince’s people had been unable to thus far.

What was he more likely to believe? That I was a simple commoner bold enough to do all that, or the infamous match breaker?

I know which one I would choose. If the king had even a sliver of a brain, he would see through this at a glance.

…But Valentin wasn’t stupid either. What exactly was he thinking?

Valentin took me all the way to another room that was similarly designed, but it had an attached bathroom, a wardrobe, and even a window!

…There were bars over the window, but that was fine. As long as the opening was there, I could figure it out.

Valentin shut the door behind us and immediately went to the wardrobe, grabbing out a new, inexpensive looking outfit, and flinging it at me. I didn’t bother to catch it, letting it fall to the floor while staring at him expectantly.

“Are you going to give me any idea what’s going on? I’m a good actor but even I need a little bit more to go on than a name.”

Valentin rolled his eyes. “I’m certain you’ve already pretty much figured it out. You’re courting my sister. Your name is Trevor Lyndsen to anyone outside of the royal family, and you’re a common man who impersonated Darren Faraman to break Beatrice’s engagement and declare your love for her. Out of pity for your plight, the king has granted you the opportunity to court her. You are very grateful for this.”

I looked at him like he was insane, which I’m pretty sure he was. “And the king is just…okay with this? Is he stupider than I was led to believe?”

Valentin smirked. “He knows exactly who you are. I told him. But luckily for you, you’re too valuable to kill. Unluckily for you, several members of the court are suspicious of who you are, and right now, we don’t want them to know. So you’re going to do what you do best, and become someone new.”

‘Too valuable to kill’. I had to get the fuck out of here.

It’s such a burden, being so exceptional.

“Oh, sure,” I said, feigning calm. “Then your court must be stupid, because the king has never been known for his sympathy. What would make him suddenly think a commoner is suitable for his daughter?”

“I have many sisters, almost all of whom are currently in very advantageous marriages. He can spare a daughter. And more importantly, news of ‘Darren Faraman’ heroically saving the princess from a torturous marriage is now circulating among the people. If the king decides not to let you marry her, his approval among the citizens of Pansolum will likely drop.”

“And how are you going to spread the news that it was ‘Trevor’ and not ‘Darren’?”

“That is being taken care of as we speak. You’re not the only one who can spread rumors. Now get changed, and get ready to put on a show, because you’re going to testify in front of the court in ten minutes. I’m sure you know what will happen if you can’t convince them.”

I froze. Oh, good. That’s just great.

I tsked, snatching up the clothes. “Waste of my talents,” I muttered.

Valentin leaned back against the wardrobe. “’Talent’ is a strong word for what you have.”

I glared at him and waited. When he raised an eyebrow, I just shook the clothes, indicating that he should turn the hell around. He rolled his eyes, strode past me, and left, but I knew he was still right outside the door.

Alone at last. I flung the clothes away and went straight to the window.

The bars were an obstacle, but not one I couldn’t manage. They weren’t welded, but bolted, which meant they had just recently been added. This was clearly meant to be my permanent jail cell. A bit fancier than the cell I was expecting, but a cell, nonetheless.

While Valentin had taken all of my weapons, he hadn’t taken my belt. The belt was a stiff cloth that fastened with a bit of metal – a very ordinary looking belt, but what Valentin didn’t know was that there was a small pouch sewn into the inner part of the belt that contained a blade as thin as a butterfly’s wing, but capable of cutting through almost every common metal.

And if Valentin knew I had such a thing, he’d have a lot more questions for me than he already did.

As expected, the blade went through the bars like butter. In a matter of seconds, I had cut through all four bars, laying them quietly on the carpet. Left behind were eight metal stumps, four on top of the window, four on the bottom. It would be a bit uncomfortable to slip through, but worth it.

The window itself was two panels closed with a hook-and-eye latch that I quickly popped open. Once I pushed the window open, fresh air hit my face, carrying the smell of wildflowers, sunlight, and bread from the kitchens that must be nearby.

It was so pleasant, I was tempted to stop and take it in, but I couldn’t waste a moment.

I hoisted myself through the window, just barely managing to slip through. Outside the window was a tiled roof that I landed on like a cat, with the quietest of thumps.

The room I’d been in was facing a courtyard, and thankfully, it wasn’t too high up off the ground, probably only the second floor, so I was able to slide off the roof and down to the ground with minimal pain to my ankles, bolting down a very pretty flower-lined path.

The courtyard was elegantly decorated, and aside from the flowers, there were also several statues, a fountain, and a small gazebo.

It was only once I was halfway across the courtyard, passing the gazebo, that I heard a shout and glanced back to see Valentin at the window I’d just escaped out of, eyes locked on me like a fierce beast watching its prey escape.

The big, asshole cat watched open mouthed as the mouse stuck his tongue out at him and sprinted away.

The issue with escaping like this was that I had no fucking clue where I was going. I knew nothing about the palace and, perhaps pridefully, assumed I’d never need to know anything about it. But I had a head start, and that had to be enough.

It had to be.

The opposite end of the courtyard ended in a large stone arch, beyond which I could see a long hallway that led gods know where. But there was nowhere else to go, so I darted down it, ignoring the distant shouting of guards getting word that the princess’s supposed fiancé was escaping.

Although I had hope that I would get out of here unscathed, I was a realist at heart, and I knew that I was royally fucked.

The palace had thousands of guards, and I didn’t know where the fuck I was. The chances of me getting caught sooner rather than later were extraordinarily high. So I had two options –

Hide, and wait to sneak out later when they’ve started looking elsewhere, or take a hostage.

The first option was my safest bet, but would require me to remain in the palace for longer. Once I got out, I would also have to lay low around the city for a while before figuring out how to make enough money to leave. The second option was a gamble, but one that would get me out and far away much faster. If I chose the right hostage, I could get some money out of it too.

I smiled slowly.

And what better hostage could I ask for than a certain mongoose princess?