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No matter his lack of humility, I still can’t deny that he saved me. “Well, I do thank you for saving my life, and for the tea, sir.” I extend a hand for the cup and take a long sip. “So, where are we exactly?”
“In a hayloft on McGregor Dooley’s farm. I’ve been posing as a farmhand and hiding in the hayloft. It’s a good cover for avoiding the other members of the guard until we can set things right. And McGregor is already one of us. It was Mistress Dooley who made you the tea and gave me the blanket for you. They want to see things set right as much as I do, and that all starts with you, my lady.”
Why does he keep saying that? And who is this man sitting beside me, besides being a dangerously handsome devil? And if he wasn’t a traitor to the crown, he’d be quite charming to boot, although I would never admit it to him.
“Start by telling me who you are,” I say. “And not your name again, buthowyou know me. Explain to me exactly how you are not a traitor to the crown who escaped his rightful punishment, if you please.” I take another sip of tea and nestle down a little snugger in the straw.
Victor looks into my face, a slight smile turning up his mouth. “You look so much like her,” he states matter-of-factly. “From the fire in your hair, the eyes as blue as the ocean’s depths, and the skin so frothy white, it resembles bedsheets. Yes, you are her twin.”
“Who’s twin?” I say, not masking my agitation. “Who do I look so much like?”
“Your mother.”
I’m frozen, unmovable, hanging on his every word.
“I was merely a boy of five seasons, and you were still in her belly, but I remember her as vividly as the meal I had last night. I have always wondered what really happened to your mother.”
Tingles run on my arms and my chest feels as if it is being crushed by bricks. Everything I have waited for my entire life is finally coming full circle. He is here. He knew my mother. I am rapt in his words.
“You see, my father was the head of the royal guards. I grew up in the castle. My father was King Urich’s advisor, but he never trusted the king. He said the king had a darkness about him, a darkness that was capable of unspeakable things.”
“Begging your pardon,” I say, “but I still don’t see what any of this has to do with me.”
He is resolute. “You will, dear Milla. I found some writings that belonged to my father when he was killed last season. Those writings confirmed my suspicions. It took me time to locate you, but now I have. And now order can truly be restored in Timberness, all because of who you are.”
I sit up straighter. “Who am I?”
“Have you not figured it out yet, sweet Milla? You are the princess.”
CHAPTER 17
“Princess?”
Maybe I died. My body is no doubt still lying on the frozen ground in that alley. This can’t be real. I am no princess.
“Yes, my lady. You are the crown princess of Timberness, the only rightful heir to the throne. King Urich is ailing, his light will soon dim. We must restore you to your rightful position.”
I touch Gram’s match in my chemise, recalling all the times I had wished on a match and wished to see the inside of the palace, to be more than my station in life. And now that Sir Victor is offering me that wish, it is too unbelievable to conceive.
“You must know how your words sound. I am the match girl. And now I am alone in the world. I have no lot in this life. And now you are telling me that I am a princess? It is too much.” I look him fully in the face. “How do I even know that I can trust you?”
He is firm and direct. “You don’t, but I am telling the truth. Others know it too. Who do you think saved me from the gallows?”
My words are trapped in my throat. I shrug, listening to nothing but the sounds coming from his mouth.
“Those were the resistance fighters,” he continues. “They all know the truth, and they are forming an army to overthrow King Urich as we speak.”
“An army?”
“Yes, an army, from neighboring villages and from here within Timberness. But that task will be more easily accomplished if the people know they are fighting for you. You are beloved, Milla. The villagers depended on your grandmother as their healer, and now they will depend on you to be their savior.
My head is reeling. It is a lot to take in. I consider the possibility that it could be true. I recall not very long ago when Gram forbade me to speak of the palace, said I was never allowed to work there. And she did say that she hid my lineage to protect me. Could it be true?
Sir Victor is quiet, allowing me to process his revelation. But it is a weak revelation at best. I need more, need to know about my mother. Then it hits me.
“If I am the princess, then that means King Urich is my father?”
“No,” Sir Victor says. “He is not.”
