Page 18 of The Marked Princess

“To our future queen and king!”

The crowd echoed the toast with enthusiasm. The king took a long drink from his glass, before handing it off to a waiting servant. The glass had barely left his fingers when his face blanched, and he raised a hand to his throat. His eyes widened as he stumbled forward, his skin taking on an ashen hue.

“Father!”

Josselyn fell to her knees in front of her father as he collapsed onto the floor, his breath coming out in a raspy wheeze. His eyes met hers for a moment before the light went out of them and his body sank in a lifeless heap.

Chapter Ten

A scream ripped from her lips as she stared in horror at her father. She reached for him, but before her fingers could even graze him, someone grabbed her arm with a roughness that startled her from her horrified stupor. She looked around frantically as she was pulled to her feet. One of the prince's men had his meaty hand wrapped around her upper arm, and a dangerous looking dagger came up to press against her neck as he pulled her backwards. Edmund was being restrained, as well, and he stared at the dagger pressing against her neck with wild eyes.

Screams rose up from the crowded ballroom as soldiers flooded in from every side. Smirking, Prince Stefan stepped forward, pushing the king's body aside with his foot as he addressed the men holding Josselyn and Edmund captive.

“Escort my bride to her chambers, unharmed, if possible. The interloper can be thrown into the dungeon.”

Jossleyn glared at him with pure, unadulterated hate. Heat stirred in her belly and the marks on her forearm burned into her flesh. A feral growl filled her head, and she bared her teeth, letting the sound spill out of her lips.

The prince grinned, reaching out to stroke a finger beneath her chin.

“If you think to intimidate me, princess, you'll find it won't be easy. I like my women with a bit of fire in them.”

She spat in his face, and the man holding her jerked her arm, letting the tip of the dagger prick her skin. The prince chuckled, wiping his face with the back of his sleeve.

“You may take the tigress away, now. I shall attend to her soon enough.”

“Josselyn!”

Edmund struggled against the men restraining him, as she was hauled away through the panicked crowd. A fist came down hard, knocking him over the head with the hilt of a sword, and his body went limp, a trickle of blood running down his temple.

“Edmund! No!” Josselyn dug her heels in, dragging her feet as she was pulled toward the servants' exit. Her burly captor grunted and his grip on her arm tightened.

“Quiet, bitch. Be a good, little princess and just do as you're told.”

He pulled her into the corridor that lead to the servants' stairwell. Her eyes lit on the door to the kitchens, which led to the stable yard. If she could free herself, she could make a run for it. Her stomach rolled, nausea building from the strange heat that had begun simmering there since witnessing her father's murder. She fell to her knees, vomit spewing out over the floor.

“Shit!”

Her captor jumped back, dropping his hold on her arm, his face turning a bit green as he leaned away from the pungent mess. His dagger hung loose in his hand as he covered his face with the other. Feigning a second round, Josselyn doubled over with a dry heave, her hand slipping into her skirts. She wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her dagger, carefully pulling it out as she kept one eye on the disgusted man beside her.

“Come on, now, get yourself up off the floor, I don't have all day to stand around playing nursemaid to some sick chit.”

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and made as if she were going to stand, but at the last minute she sprang up, blocking his knife hand with her left arm as she used the other to plunge her dagger into his gut. Another round of bile attacked her throat as she felt the blade slice through soft flesh, blood oozing out onto her hand as she slid it back out.

Tamping the nausea down as best she could, she pushed past the man who was now doubled over, clutching at his wound. Without waiting to see if he'd recover, she ran for the kitchen door, slamming her body into the swinging door as she barreled into the room. A handful of terrified servants cowered in the corner, their wide eyes taking in her haggard appearance.

Ignoring them, she made for the outer door, her slick hands fumbling to open it.

“I wouldn't go out there, Your Highness, the courtyard is crawling with Antoski soldiers. Don't know where they all came from.”

She turned to look at the girl who'd spoken, a young serving girl no more than fourteen.

“Is there another way out from here?”

The girl shook her head.

“Looks like I'll just have to take my chances then. I can't hide in here forever.”

She wiped her hands on her ruined ballgown, wishing she were wearing something else, anything else, really. Gritting her teeth, she steeled herself as she opened the door a crack, peering out into the dark stable yard. When she didn't see a crowd of soldiers, she opened it a bit wider and stuck her head out, looking around. The sound of shouts and clashing metal came from the front of the castle, but she couldn't quite make out their figures, as the clouds had opened up and begun pouring rain down in thick sheets.