Thornwood by Leah Cypess (best value ebook reader TXT) 📗

would he lie?” I wrapped my arms around myself. “Maybe he wants us all to die in here so he can make off with our riches.” Not that we had many riches…

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” Edwin said. “Maybe he was just being cautious. He probably wanted some time to make sure everything was safe before he let us out into the world. I mean, he had no idea who—or what—is really in here.”

I thought of the fairy I had seen in the tower room. Maybe the prince had a point.

“And he’s the one who cut his way through the Thornwood the first time, right?” Edwin went on. “He’s the logical person to get us out.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. But my expression must have given me away, because Edwin’s eyebrows slanted down. “Do you not like him?”

“He hid his sword behind a mermaid statue,” I said. “That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. For one thing, there are at least a dozen better hiding places in the castle.”

Edwin burst into laughter, so loudly it made me jump. I’m usually the only one who thinks I’m funny.

“He’s probably not in the habit of hiding things himself,” Edwin said once he had calmed down. “Back home, I’m sure he has a servant whose sole job is to hide his extra candy and the books his parents don’t approve of.”

Now I was the one who laughed. “I guess you don’t like him, either?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Edwin replied hastily. “I’ve only gotten one glimpse of him. I just…you know. He’s a prince. Royalty makes me uncomfortable.”

“I’m a princess,” I pointed out.

“A cake-throwing princess is a lot less intimidating than a sword-wielding prince.”

“I’m not sure,” I said, “if I should be insulted.”

“I’m sorry,” Edwin said quickly. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m used to being insulted. I can handle it.”

Edwin’s brow furrowed again. “How could anyone insult you? You’re a princess. Don’t people respect you?”

I stared at him for so long that he stepped back. “Beg pardon,” he muttered. “Now what did I say?”

“Nobody in this castle,” I said, “has ever respected me.”

“Um.” He bit his lip. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m not important enough to be respected. Everyone knows that.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why don’t you know that?”

“I…um…”

There was only one possible answer. “You’re not from this castle,” I said. “Are you?”

“Um…”

“Stop saying um and answer me! Who are you, and why are you here?”

Edwin hunched his shoulders. “Remember that I just saved your life, okay? So you can’t get too angry at me.”

“Fine. Instead of making you rich, I’ll reward you by not getting angry at you.”

“I don’t actually think it has to be instead of—”

“Edwin!”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “You’re correct. I, um…I don’t actually work in this castle.”

“Then what,” I demanded, “are you doing here?”

Edwin lifted his chin. When he met my gaze, his eyes were pleading, but also defiant.

“I sneaked into the castle,” he said. “I wanted to be here when your sister pricked her finger. I wanted…” He stopped and took a breath, then went on. “I wanted to sleep for a hundred years.”

“Why?”

“Because in a hundred years,” he said, “my master would be dead.”

“I don’t—”

“In the village, I was apprenticed to the blacksmith. He was…not a good man. He got angry a lot, and drunk, and he let the other apprentices—” Edwin winced. “It doesn’t matter. He’s dead by now. They all are. I’m free of them, just like I planned.”

It took me a moment to find my voice. “But everyone else you know is also dead! There must have been another way you could escape.”

“There wasn’t.” He looked away. “You…you were never in the village, or you would have heard of me. The village dolt. That was one of the kinder names they called me.”

I started, then tried to hide it. I had heard that name, that time when my governess had let me play with the village children. I vaguely remembered seeing a gawky figure on the edge of the town square.

Who’s that? I’d asked one of my playmates.

The village dolt. He’s not important. Throw me that ball!

And I had turned away. He had radiated a pathetic neediness that made me want to pretend not to see him.

Luckily, Edwin was still too sunk in memory to pay attention to my reaction now. “I came here to get away from everyone I knew,” he said. “Every single person in the village despised me. I…I wasn’t very good at being a blacksmith’s apprentice. Or at playing games. Or at doing anything that mattered.”

“Oh,” I said, “I’m sure that’s not…” He gave me a look, and I stopped. I had no idea whether it was true. “I mean, it’s all right.”

“Not really,” Edwin said. “I was just a waste of space. The blacksmith didn’t want to deal with me, but he couldn’t make my parents take me back—they couldn’t afford to feed me. So he just took on other apprentices, better ones, and they didn’t think I should be getting a share of the food. They didn’t really think I should exist at all.”

“That’s awful,” I said fiercely.

Edwin raised his shoulders so high they nearly touched his ears. “They wanted me to just disappear,” he said. “And I wanted it, too. That’s why I came here.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” I said. “And they were all obviously wrong about you. Look at what you’ve accomplished already. You’re a hero.”

Edwin snorted, but the corners of his lips quirked upward. “I think that’s someone else’s role. Someone taller and princelier.”

“You’ve been here less than a day,” I said, “and you’ve already rescued a princess with a magic sword. Sure, it was the wrong princess. But it’s still a good start.”

Edwin laughed.

“To be fair,” he said, “you always struck me as quite competent, for a princess. So I suspect you’re easier to rescue than your sister is.”

I blinked. “Did we…Have we met before?”

Oh, no. Did he remember me from the village?

“Of course