The False Prince (The Ascendance Trilogy #1)(2)

Conner frowned and shook his head. The moment of amusement had passed. “What can you do, boy?”

“If you bothered to ask my name, you might use it.”

He continued as if he hadn’t heard me. Also annoying. “What’s your training?”

“He don’t have any,” Mrs. Turbeldy said. “None a gentleman like yourself would need, anyhow.”

“What did your father do?” Conner asked me.

“He was best as a musician, but still a terrible one,” I said. “If he made a single coin from playing, my family never saw it.”

“He was probably a drunk.” Mrs. Turbeldy rapped my ear with her knuckles. “So this one’s made his way through theft and lies.”

“What sort of lies?”

I wasn’t sure if the question was directed to me or Mrs. Turbeldy. But he was looking at Mrs. Turbeldy, so I let her speak.

She took Conner by the arm and pulled him into a corner, which was an entirely useless gesture because not only was I standing right there and perfectly able to hear every word, but the story was also about me, so it was hardly a secret. Conner obliged her, though I noticed he faced himself toward me as she spoke.

“First time the boy came in here, he had a shiny silver coin in his hand. Said he was a runaway, the son of a dead duke from somewhere in Avenia, only he didn’t want to be a duke. So if I took him in and gave him preferential care and a place to hide, he’d pay me a coin a week. Kept it up for two weeks, all the time laughin’ it up on extra servings at dinner and with extra blankets on his bed.”

Conner glanced at me, and I rolled my eyes. He’d be less impressed when she finished the story.

“Then one night, he took with a fever. Got all delirious late in the night, hitting at everyone and yelling and such. I was there when he confessed it all. He’s no son of anyone important. The coins belonged to a duke all right, but he’d stolen them to trick me into caring for him. I dumped his body into the cellar to get better or not, I didn’t care. Next time I checked on him, he’d got over the fever on his own and was a good deal more humble.”

Conner looked at me again. “He doesn’t look so humble now.”

“I got over that too,” I said.

“So why’d you let him stay?” Conner asked Mrs. Turbeldy.

Mrs. Turbeldy hesitated. She didn’t want to tell him it was because I picked up goodies for her now and then, ribbon for her hats or chocolates from the cake shop. Because of that, Mrs. Turbeldy didn’t hate me nearly as much as she pretended to. Or maybe she did. I stole from her too.

Conner walked back to me. “A thief and a liar, eh? Can you manage a sword?”

“Sure, if my opponent doesn’t have one.”

He grinned. “Do you farm?”

“No.” I took that as an insult.

“Hunt?”

“No.”

“Can you read?”

I stared up at him through the parts of my hair. “What are you wanting me for, Conner?”

“You’ll address me as Sir or Master Conner.”

“What are you wanting me for, Sir Master Conner?”

“That’s a conversation for another time. Gather your things. I’ll wait for you here.”

I shook my head. “Sorry, but when I leave the comfort of Mrs. Turbeldy’s fine establishment, I go on my own.”

“You’re going with him,” Mrs. Turbeldy said. “You’ve been bought and paid for by Master Conner, and I can’t wait to be rid of you.”

“You’ll earn your freedom by doing whatever I ask of you and doing it well,” Conner added. “Or serve me poorly and serve me for life.”

“I wouldn’t serve anyone for an hour until freedom,” I said. Conner took a step toward me, hands out. I threw the roast I’d been holding at him and he flinched to avoid it. Using that moment, I pushed past Mrs. Turbeldy and darted into the street. It would’ve been helpful to know that he’d left a couple of vigils at the door. One grabbed my arms while the other clubbed me over the head from behind. I barely had time to curse their mothers’ graves before I crumpled to the ground.





I awoke with my hands tied behind my back, and lying in the bed of a wagon. A throbbing headache pulsed inside me, worsened by the jostling of the wagon as we rode. The least Conner could have done was give me something soft to lie on.

I resisted the temptation to open my eyes until my situation became clearer. My wrists were tied behind my back with a coarse rope, one that might be used to lead a horse. If it was, then I wondered if the rope was a last-minute idea. Maybe Conner hadn’t expected to be taking me by force.

Conner should have come more prepared. This thick rope worked to my advantage. It was easier to loosen the knots.

Someone coughed near me. Didn’t sound like Conner. Maybe it was one of his thug vigils.

As slowly as possible, I inched one eye open. The cool spring day had become a bit overcast but wasn’t yet threatening rain. Too bad. I could’ve used a bath.

One of Conner’s vigils was at the far end of the wagon, looking at the view behind us. That probably meant Conner and the other vigil were on the seat at the front of the wagon.

Another cough, to my left. I let my head bounce with the next jolt of the wagon to see where it had come from.