Page 29 of Crown of the Courtesan

I let out a stifled breath.

Deep voices rumble outside. I assume the driver is briefly talking to someone before we leave again, but the muffled sounds grow louder and more agitated. The cab sways back and forth as if it’s being pushed.

I stick my head out the window, hair whipping in the wind. My driver’s shouts reach my ears, but I can’t see him.

“’Tis the royal carriage, m’boy! Unhand it!”

The crack of a whip punctuates his words as the horses whinny and hurtle forward. Nausea drops into the pit of my stomach. The driver chases behind us, flailing his arms and rapidly shrinking in the distance.

Back inside and gripping the leather interior, I’m thrown from wall to wall. The wheels bounce violently over each cobblestone as we race downhill at a breakneck pace for far too long.

Weightlessness rises within me as the carriage lifts and tips entirely. The world upends in a dizzying blur. My body smashes against the ceiling, then the window, as the carriage tumbles down and down, rolling repeatedly.

It halts with a bone-jarring crash. I’m frozen, every muscle screaming. The taste of copper fills my mouth. When I touch my head beneath the humming circlet, my fingertips come away sticky with blood.

My heart begins to beat in a frenzied panic as I realize the carriage lies on its side and that I’m splayed across a pile of broken glass. Shards dig into my palms and knees as swirling shadows steal my vision. I carefully rise, hunched over, before pushing on the crumpled door above—but it’s too damaged to budge. The air grows tight in the cab, constricting my chest.

I close my eyes, fearing I’ll faint from the confinement. I can hear a crowd gathering. Someone jostles the broken latch, but they fail to open it. The movement intensifies along with my rapid breathing.

A deep, velvety voice orders the others, “Move aside.”

The carriage lifts slightly. There’s a growling grunt as the door wrenches away. A handsome emerald face framed by curly, burgundy hair looks at me through the doorway. He flashes a toothy smile.

With a jolt, I recognize him.

He’s the same arrogant orc lord who stepped on my dress after the Bidding Ceremony. He lowers a hand to offer assistance, and I don’t hesitate to take it—anything to get out.

He lifts me by one arm with such a smooth glide of force that I sail into the air slightly before he catches me at the waist. His agility surprises me as he jumps down and gently sets me on my feet. I wobble for a second before looking up at his towering form, dressed in expensive red-plated armor that shimmers silver in the sun. He’s taller than any human man I’ve ever known, but just as handsome. Maybe even more so.

Two men from the crowd unleash the horses from their tangled harnesses, and the geldings take off frantically down the street, bucking like mad.

The crowd of onlookers grows in size now that I’m out of the cab. Their scrutiny is the last thing I want so soon after leaving the king’s pyre—their harsh words still fresh in my mind.

The handsome orc lord is still smiling at me as the sunlight catches his eyes at an angle, making his orange irises gleam brightly.

I do not have time for this.

“It’s okay. You needn’t thank me yet. I know you’re probably in shock.”

I blink hard. “I’m not in shock.”

“Sounds like something someone in shock would say.”

“Sure,” I snap, pushing my fallen hair from my eyes.

He hands me a beautifully embroidered handkerchief.

“What’s this for?”

“You’re bleeding.”

Oh, right. I take it and pat my forehead.

“Since you wouldn’t give me your name at the castle, would you be so kind as to grace me with it now as a token of your appreciation?”

I eye him, unsure of his intentions. It’s surprising, even insulting, that he didn’t already know my identity, but I don’t have the time or energy to deal with his apparent flirtations—or perhaps plain stupidity.

“Your Grace,” shouts Captain Wellcrest from atop his stallion as the other members of the Queensguard surround the accident. “General Metalla failed to adhere to protocol. He should never have left without securing our guard.” He gives my orc hero an assessing stare before returning his attention to me. “Are you hurt?”