Finally she got tired of lying in bed, unable to sleep a wink, running the same problems over and over in her head and coming up with the same lack of answers. She got up and pulled the curtains aside enough to flood the room with moonlight. This wouldn't be the first time she'd slipped out for a walk in the middle of the night; when she was younger, she'd often had restless nights. Thanks to her mother, she could do entirely without maids when she wanted to.
She delved into the back of one of the great wardrobe cabinets in her bedroom, dressed herself in the simplest of her clothing and carried her shoes, and easily slipped out of her rooms, past her sleeping maids. If she was seen, she'd be taken for a servant; she wore the gown and petticoat she had worn when her mother had given her lessons on how shepherds lived. She would have liked to have used the disguise cloak, but Lily had used it last, and it was inher room. Once out in the corridors that the servants used, she pulled on the shoes; a servant tiptoeing around the halls would arouse suspicion, not quell it. The gown still had the faint scent she associated with that happy time, of hay and clover blossoms, a little of the oily sheep smell, and smoke. When that scent was released from her gown, warmed by her body, she found herself suddenly overwhelmed with memories. She had to put her back to the wall of the servants' corridor and cry soundlessly a little.
Finally she fought her tears down and made her way out into the kitchen yard, between the Palace and the stables. She lost herself quickly in the passageways among the stables, the mews, the chicken-houses, the dovecotes, the rabbit-hutches — the Palace supported a lot of animals, more than most people might guess. Many of the buildings were brick and stone, even the chicken-houses, since stone and brick were easier to clean than wood, and easier to secure against predators and vermin. The stables, the kennels and the mews even supported living quarters for those servants who tended the beasts.
Once safely in the shadows, she put her back against one of the cool stone walls, and deeply breathed in the night air, only faintly scented with straw and horse and dog.
Dog? She realized with a start that she must be near the kennels. Not necessarily a good thing...the kennels were where the Huntsman had his quarters, and he was the very last person she wanted to encounter in the dark even if he didn't recognize her.
Just as that thought passed through her mind, she heard the voices.
One was Desmond's.
What was Desmond doing out here so late at night?
She didn't recognize the other.
Impelled by concern as well as curiosity, she inched forward until she could hear the two speakers clearly.
"...the progress on hunting that unicorn?" Desmond asked, impatiently. Her hand went unconsciously to the necklace at her throat.
"Slowly, Prince." That was the Huntsman! "The beast is proving elusive. I find its spoor, but always days old. I took the bait — verified bait, I swear to you — out into the forest, and the unicorn never came near."
"I want that horn. Ineed that horn. Besides that, I need the blood, the mane and the hooves, but the horn is imperative." This was an entirely different Desmond from the one she was used to hearing. Arrogant. Demanding. And ordering the Huntsman to kill a unicorn. Anger suffused her, and outrage. How dared he! This was her Kingdom's treasure, inher forest!
"As you say, Highness. Have you any other tasks for me?"
And then, after the anger, disgust. Kill a unicorn? Of all things, a unicorn?
When she told Lily —
"The Princess is proving resistant," Desmond was saying, snapping her attention back to the topic at hand. "I am going to need you to stand ready to take her at any moment."
Had he been the one giving the Huntsman his orders all along? Had he been the one who had sent the Huntsman in the first place?
"That won't be easy, sire," the Huntsman replied, and she could almost hear the frown in his voice. Sire? "She is well guarded these days."
And I am going to be even better guarded now that I know about you! she thought with a feeling of shock. The Huntsman she had been wary of, but Desmond? He was in no way related to any of the five enemy Kingdoms on the border! At least...they had thought he was not...
She calculated how quickly she could get help here if she just started running and screaming now. Not quickly enough. The guards won't know it's me. They might not even realize it's a human sound. It could be taken for one of the peacocks, disturbed, or some other animal. We are near enough the forest that anything could come into the yard and be killed by a dog or kill something else. If she began running and screaming, Desmond and his lackey would have plenty ot time to grab her and make off with her before help came. She knew then she was going to have to get away, get to the Palace, raise an alarm — No, that would not do — it would be her word against his. Between this moment and when she finally organized guards to come after him, the Huntsman could be back in his bed, and even if Desmond was found outside of his rooms, he could say, well, anything. He could deny he was ever at the stables, and hewould deny that he was talking to the Huntsman. He could claim that she was dreaming, sleepwalking.
She would have no way of disproving him.
No, she needed to get back into the Palace, wake Lily and tell her what she had overheard. Her best bet to catch him was through magic. All this time, they had been watching the Huntsman, not him. Now that they knew what he was up to, they should be able to catchhim at meetings with the Huntsman. At something, anyway
She froze, as she heard a growl behind her, and smelled hot, doggy breath.
"What's that?" Desmond said sharply.
She knew not to move. That growl had been deep and menacing.
"My hound seems to have found a spy, sire," the Huntsman replied, in a growl not far removed from the dog's.
"Well that you set him to watch then," replied the Prince, and uttered a few guttural words in a language she didn't recognize. "Now you can call him off."
She heard a whistle, and the dog padded away.Now! she thought, ready to run for it, and —
Couldn't move. Not a muscle. She couldn't even make a sound.
She was barely able to blink and breathe.
"Let's see what little mouse we've caught," said Desmond, his voice full of cruel amusement. Two dark figures approached her where she was stuck, leaning against the stable wall. The light from a shuttered lantern flashed into her face, and she heard the Huntsman's swift intake of breath, and then Desmond's slow chuckle.
"Well, well, well. It looks as if you have managed to snare me my quarry after all," Desmond said. He tore off the magical bracelet Lily would have used to find her, and threw it on the ground before uttering another handful of words. And that was all she knew....
...until she woke up.
She was not in the stables of her Palace. This place was cold, and it was dank. It smelled like wet stone. It was so dark that at first she was in a panic, thinking she was blind, and she lurched to her feet, fell, smacked her head on stone and saw stars.