The Decoy Princess
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The Princess Contessa of Constenopolie has just learned of her true identity-that of an orphan adopted and raised as a decoy to protect the real princess. That doesn't make Contessa less of a royal target.
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do all that by yourself.” I cringed inside, certain he knew I was trying to keep him out of the way. “I need a distraction so I can sneak in over the walls,” I said. “A distraction!” Duncan’s vehemence shocked me. “I’m no one’s distraction, Princess. Not for you. Not for anyone! Not again.” I warmed as my anger grew. “There’s nothing wrong with being a distraction. I was one for twenty years!” “Yeah?” Duncan stood with his feet spread, solidly planted on the wooden floor. “You need us,” he
pit was still warm from last night’s dinner. Shifting uneasily in the defunct coals, I poked my head above ground level to see a pair of sentries. They were halfheartedly beating the bushes with the flat of their swords as they complained loudly of their interrupted dinner and how this was a waste of time because I was probably crying at the back of a closet. If all of Garrett’s men were this inexperienced, I’d have a chance. Even the stableboy had known the value of stealth while playing
very good wine with a Lovrege stamp, a crate of pottery from the lower islands, and three bags of sand, pure and white for making glass. It was rare in the rocky beaches that made up most of the kingdom. Clearly the captain was well traveled. There was a sudden commotion of voices and thundering feet followed by a series of chants and rhythmic clatters. Something bumped the side of the ship. The calling voices didn’t turn angry, just louder. I felt the floor move, and my breath hissed in from
before I darted you, yes?” “Oh!” Excited, I turned to snatch a glance at Jeck’s horse. “Is that why my hands hum?” His eyes widened. “Your hands . . .” He grabbed one, alternating his attention between my eyes and my palm, looking small in his. “Oh, Tess,” he said softly, frightening me. “I had no idea. They really . . . How long have they been doing that?” “Since Jeck tried to down me with about six darts. Why? Is it . . . wrong?” His smile went proud. “No. It’s right. Maybe it’s because you