Neither caught sight of the black-and-silver cat sitting quietly and unobtrusively in the shadows, licking its paws.
Mistaya and Thom were sitting side by side on the pallet in the candlelit storeroom, lost in silent contemplation of their predicament and puzzling through methods of escape, when they heard the rasp of the lock bar being drawn back. They rose as the heavy wooden door opened and His Eminence stepped into view. He glanced from one to the other and back again, smiling.
“Well, you both seem to be holding up well enough. How would you like to get out of here?”
The girl and the boy exchanged a suspicious glance. “You know the answer to that question already,” Mistaya replied. “What do you want from us now?”
His Eminence rubbed his hands eagerly. “To begin with, I would like to have a private conversation with you. Thom, would you mind stepping outside and waiting in the storeroom next door? All I ask is that you make no attempt to escape while you are there. It would be a huge mistake for you to try. Mr. Pinch will be there to reinforce the point.”
Thom looked at Mistaya questioningly. “I’ll be all right,” she told him. “Won’t I, Your Eminence?” she added, giving Crabbit a meaningful glance.
“Perfectly all right. This won’t take but a few minutes.”
A reluctant Thom went out the door, closing it behind him. His Eminence waited a few moments more, cocking his elongated head to one side, giving it a Humpty-Dumpty-sat-on-the-wall look. Then he moved closer to Mistaya and stood staring at her. She could tell from the look alone that whatever was coming was going to be bad.
“I will make this brief and to the point,” His Eminence declared. “You deserve that much, at least. Berwyn Laphroig has discovered you are here and has come to take you to Rhyndweir. He intends to make you his wife and the mother of his children. Of his sons, if all goes well. I have argued with him, but to no avail. The matter is complicated by the fact that he also knows about Thom. The one concession I have been able to wring from him is that if you marry him voluntarily, executing a viable written consent to the match, he will leave Thom in my safekeeping. Otherwise, he intends to dispatch Thom immediately. Am I being perfectly clear on all this?”
Mistaya nodded wordlessly. If she didn’t marry The Frog, Thom would be killed. If she did marry The Frog, she would have to kill herself. Figuratively, anyway.
She gave him a chilly smile. “No one has the right to tell a Princess of Landover whom she may wed. Not even my parents. Certainly not you. I will wed when I am good and ready and not before, and I will wed a man of my own choosing. I refuse to be married to The Frog. What’s more, if any harm comes to Thom, I will see to it that your head is posted on your own gate until there is nothing left of it but bone. Am
His Eminence stared at her silently, shaking his head. “You do live in a fairy-tale world, don’t you, Princess? All you see is what you want to see. If you don’t want to think about something or face up to something, it simply doesn’t exist for you. Goodness. But this is the real world, not some make-believe story in which you are the heroine. So perhaps you ought to rethink your situation before you start making threats.”
He snatched the front of her tunic and pulled her close enough that she could feel his breath on her face. He towered over her, and she could see the anger in his eyes.
“You are my possession, Princess!” he hissed softly. “You belong to me. I can do with you what I want. Do you understand me?”
She nodded without speaking, her eyes riveted on his. For the first time since she had come to Libiris, she was genuinely scared. She was terrified.
“Well, then,” he continued, his voice still a whisper, “it ought to be simple for you. I don’t choose to make you do anything you don’t want to do, even though I can. But this is the reality—you hold a boy’s life in your hands. So you need to consider your choices carefully and spare me your idle threats. You need to consider the consequences of those choices. Listen now—here they are again. If you fail to walk out of here and tell Berwyn Laphroig that you will marry him and bear his children, I shall be forced to turn young Thom over to him and you will have the unfortunate experience of watching him die right in front of your eyes, knowing it was all your fault! Is any of this not clear?”
When she failed to answer, he sighed wearily. “I shall take it from your silence that you understand. Now let’s try it again. Think carefully before you speak. Will you agree to this arrangement or not? Will you marry Berwyn Laphroig or shall I send young Thomlinson out for a short reunion? Give me your answer.”
She compressed her lips into a tight line. “My father will never countenance this! He will not let me be used in this way! You had better release me right now!”
