She wrestled the stranger as he grabbed around the waist and hauled her back to the wagon. Her desperation to reach the king gave her added strength but she was still no match for her captor. He slung her none too gently in the wagon. Red-faced and breathing hard, he glared at her.

“Be still, Highness, or I’ll be forced to do what I did in Tineroth.”

Imogen gathered every bit of moisture in her mouth and spat. He was quicker than she expected and dodged her shot. “Do that again, and I’ll gag you.”

She opened her mouth to hurl at him every epithet she’d overheard in the marketplaces but halted at a panicked cry from the end of the procession.

“The bridge! It’s fading! Run!”

Chaos ensued as those in the back of the line surged forward, crowding those closer to the front. Imogen’s captor leapt into the wagon with her and shouted at the driver to move it. The wagon bounced and rattled. Imogen held on to one side as it careened from right to left, knocking against horses that raced for the safety of the land. In the mayhem, the orderly ranks of marching men broke as they ran with the horses for safety. The rider holding Cededa’s rope raced past them, his captive no longer tethered.

Imogen saw him then, standing alone and still as the bridge vanished behind him. “Cededa!” She screamed his name, stretching out her bound arms as if she might catch him before the span disappeared beneath his feet. His bloodied mouth turned up in an enigmatic smile, and his voice whispered to her over the thunder of hooves.

“Farewell, my beauty.”

Her desolate cry carried through the gorge as the bridge disappeared and Cededa fell silently into the chasm to the river below.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Summer lay fully upon Castagher. Imogen stood on her balcony and watched the sun set on the harbor. She’d never been this close to the sea before and admired the way the water turned to liquid fire in the sun’s reflective light. Ships rocked on languid waves, and farther out, in open water, Castagher traded on its newly acquired shipping lanes.

A door opened and closed behind her, alerting her to a visitor. She recognized the click of her cousin’s boots on the floor and braced herself. “I’m out here, Your Majesty,” she called to him.

The clicking grew louder, accompanied by the scent of rosemary and beeswax candles. Imogen turned to Hayden as he took his place beside her. Charming, handsome, and with a sharp wit, Hayden of Castagher oozed insincerity. His overtures of friendship rang false, and his gaze on her made her feel like a moth trapped in a spider’s web.

“Out on the balcony again, I see.”