Fuck.
"Hide yourself under the cloak," I whisper in her ear.
She already did so, hiding her golden curls that are so often associated with the princess hidden under the thick woolen cloak.
I move her to sit alone as I go to the barkeeper, Mikey.
I have known him for years, besides Dewey, he is my only other friend.
When I used to do the rounds in the bar, he used to keep an eye on me, making sure no one molested me or spiked my drinks. And if they did, he would knock them the fuck out and ban them from the bar.
I go over the counter, jumping to his side. Mickey barely spares me a glance again, but I catch his hand swiping drinks and whisper to his ear, "The guards are here. They're looking for us. Cover me when I get out." He gives me a once-over, considering me, and then he nods.
I give him a light squeeze to let him know that I appreciate it.
He greedily drinks out of a shot of whiskey, downing it in one go before starting to go to the guards.
I look over to the table where we sat, but Helena isn't there. She's already by my side, grabbing my hand.
I look down at her; she looks so small and scared from the way she is shrinking in her cloak. I give her a reassuring squeeze, and she gives me a smile before we head to the door, trying to look casual.
We're almost at the exit, but one of the guards holds us. "Names?"
He's a tall, bearded man. The thick armor frames his bulky form. Although he seems three decades older than me, he looks like he could kill me with one edge of his sword.
He has that coming smile that seems to not be forced. I force one on my lips too quickly, saying, "I'm Joe, and this is my sister Lana. Our mother expects us at home soon."
I lean in, and if I'm telling a secret, "it's that time of the month for her".
Helena blushes to her ears, too flustered to agree with me, but it sells it just the same. The bearded man looks horrified and points to the door. "You can go."
When we exit the door, someone with a chuckle escapes my lips, and Helena smacks me on the shoulder. I whined in pain, "What was that for?"
"That was improper," she grits out.
I roll my eyes but say nothing. I know she's really insecure about this sort of thing. Being a princess meant concealing imperfections, and I know she hated that part the most in the job description.
I take Helena for several different lanes to dodge any sort of lingering eyes at us. She doesn't complain, but I can almost hear the slight wincing of straining her muscles for too long. Her porcelain white skin and beautiful soft hands were not meant for long walks or working for long hours.
I take some pity on her and stop at an alley that doesn't seem infested with alley cats or muggers.
She laid her head against a wall, carefully wincing from the filth. She cocked an eyebrow, trying to figure me out. "Where are we going?"
"To Dewey's house, I need to talk to him."
I haven't talked to him about the body or about what I did.
Last night was incredible. So much so that I nearly forgot.
I forgot about the utter and awful trouble that I got myself into. By agreeing to stick by her, I have endangered her. I'm not only running away from the crime that I've committed, but I'm also involving Helena in it.
She seemed to gulp on something uncomfortable, trying to say the words. "Is he one of your... lovers?"
I throw back my head, laughing. Tears nearing breaking through. She crosses her arms, annoyed. "He's a friend." I purse my lips for a moment. "I mean, I did fuck him once, but we are friends."
She opens her mouth again for a whole minute, then closes it in a taut sort of expression. "How many people did you sleep with?"
I do not miss this, like blushing. She tries to hide brushing her cheeks, she's so shy.
I compose myself, counting on my fingers. "Well, you mean this week or this month there was Lady—"
She bounces from the wall, waving her hand in dismissal. "Forget it."
I catch her hand, smirking. "Are you feeling insecure?"
Her hand drops, admitting. "Yes."
I caress her hand, knowing she likes it. She slightly shivers, leaning into the touch. "Why didn't you just ask me then?"
She looks up, knowing I didn't talk about the number of lovers I had. "Because it's …"
"Improper," I complete the sentence.
Her bottom lip starts to tremble, "because we were... Because you bedded me..."
Her speech goes in and out the more nervous she gets. "I was your friend, long before what happened last night. What we shared so much more than just sex. You can be honest with me." Acknowledging the relationship that has been silenced for years now since we were kids. Bit by bit I was cut away from her life, only an observer by the time we were adolescents.
Her lips go tight, but she smoothing out the expression. Asking, "What about what you said last night about Lord Blackwood?"
I still go by the name. "What about him?"
"You said you were in trouble because of him. Is it because of something he did?"
I start walking away, expecting her to follow me, but she stands still, waiting for my answer. I turn, frowning at the impulse to shut her out. I want to open up. I want to tell her.
I know I shouldn't, that is the smart thing to do. But the small part of me that calls to be closer to protect her.
This primal need to protect her is stronger. Stupid brain.
I don't turn, not able to look in her eyes. I grit out the words, "When Lord Blackwood came to my tent last night, he wanted to—"
I was not able to complete the words, but by the look at Helena's face, I know she understood it. She knows.
She doesn't need to push me to say it. "I tried to fight him, but he was stronger. Eventually, I got a knife, and it was so fast. I was on top of him, and I just kept stabbing and stabbing until he was dead."
A sharp gasp escapes her lips. I turn.
Her palm is slack on her mouth to choke out her sobbing. The tears blooming on her cheeks fall uncontrollably.
No tears fall from my eyes, only sizzling boiling rage against a man that is no longer walking. I reach out, cupping her cheek and wiping off her tears. "I'm all right."
"Are you sure?"
I nod. She wipes off her tears. "I'm glad you killed the motherfucker."
A small chuckle escapes me before I take my palm to my mouth to block. I can't hide the smile blooming on my lips when she beams at me. I link her arm with mine. "Actually, Dewey was the one who helped me with the body."
She's crunched up her nose and then has the cocky smile on. "I think I rather like your friend then."