Shael stepped back and looked at the two of them, her eyes wet. She bit her lip. "I will have to go."
She held up her hands, cutting off their protests. "Mamma Mae, Father Baer, I . . . I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you. You see . . . that man is Captain Saril Jaine, once of the Tyn secret police. He is . . . Emperor Deshin's . . . um . . . closest friend. He . . . could only be looking for me."
She bit her lip again. She knew how their daughter had died, how deep Mae's hatred ran for what Shael's father had done. The Tyrant had spotted Merthly in the local marketplace as his troops moved through, and sent his men to fetch her. There'd not been much a mere beekeeper's wife had been able to do to stop them. Merthly'd been his leman for a while. Then . . . she'd gotten pregnant. She'd let her mother know. Shael had seen the letter with its schoolgirl characters.
They had never heard from her again. But they had heard how she'd died. She'd been strangled, on the Tyrant's orders, when he had discovered she was pregnant. He wanted no byblows born to be used against him. As Princess, Shael had known that it had happened, not once, but often. She'd seen the progression of women through her father's rooms. It had never occurred to her that these were real people, leaving grieving families scattered in the wake of her father's appetites. This was why Shael had kept her silence for those months. Now she would have to tell them they'd sheltered the daughter of their greatest enemy.
"I don't care who you are. I don't care why they want you. If they try to take my second daughter from us, I'll stop them. They'll have to kill me first. You're our girl an' you're staying." The beekeeper was not a voluble man. His wife normally did most of the talking. But grim determination shone from his big honest face. His wife, now suddenly silent, just nodded.
Shael ran to him, and hugged him, something she had never done before. His grimness melted like wax, and he smiled and tousled her hair. It was something of a shock to Shael. No one had ever done something like that to her before. A royal tantrum and a flogging for the offender would have followed. It broke the warm illusion, and made her aware of what different worlds they had lived in. She looked up at the big smiling face and realized for the first time in her life, that she could not just put her own concerns first. She had to run from this refuge. Not just to save herself, but for their sake.
She broke away from the enfolding arms. "No. I . . . if I don't go, they won't stop coming. Deshin will just send more men." She sighed. "He's not stupid. He'll send the royal beekeeper. If I stay . . . they'll kill us all. You see I . . . I'm, my name is not Kim, it is really . . ."
"Princess Shael."
She gaped at him. "How . . ."
Mae smiled ruefully at her. "Merthly described you in a letter, lass. Especially the green eyes and all the bangles. We didn't know how to tell you we knew, so we just let it pass. We didn't want to lose you, love."
"But, my father . . . he killed your daughter!" Shael's world was painted with hatreds and vendettas. Sometimes there were compromises of state, but the hatred remained. Shael was not prepared for forgiveness.
"You didn't do it, lass. Your father's sins aren't yours. And by what Merthly said, he treated you like no father should."
Shael's cheeks burned. "I'm sure she also said I was horrible. I always was to his mistresses."
Mae chuckled. "Oh, aye. She also said you was so spoiled you couldn't even dress yourself. She was sorry for you, poor thing." The smile ran away from her face. "She said she'd never let her children be brought up like that. Now, let's be scraping the stings out of this fellow."
"What are you going to do with him?"
"Look after him, and then let him go. We'll hide you, lass, and tell him you ran off," said Baer decisively.
Shael nodded and set to work.
* * *
The note on the empty bed was tear-splashed.
"Dear Papa Baer and Mamma Mae,
Please forgive me. I have to go. Please don't try to follow me. I will come back someday if I can. I wish that you really had been my mother and father. Merthly was right. If I ever have any, I won't let my children be brought up like that either."
It was signed "Love, Kim" the name she had written as her own when they asked her what they should call her. She had taken nothing but the little that she had come with.
* * *
"Too slow. I'm too old." The lined face was twisted in pain. The old man clutched at his leg. "Keil, boy," he panted. "Bring me the little bottle from my dilly bag, son."
Keilin didn't wait. He ran as if his heels were on fire. He'd seen the puff adder that had bitten Marou. In the fashion of that particular breed of snake it hadn't slithered off when they came close, but simply gone on lying on the narrow path. The old man had been leading the way, and hadn't even seen it. He'd felt it, but had not been quite quick enough to pull away from the fangs.