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Was he angry? Of course he was. He was damn frantic and furious.

But he was afraid if he demonstrated any of that, she’d call her stable servants or whoever happened to be in ear shot and he’d have a fight on his hands that he wasn’t in any shape for.

He wanted to get to his former room and see if Demon Slayer was still where he left it, and then he needed to get to Josephine.

It made him sick to think of what could have happened to her in three days.

But instead of snapping at the woman, he forced a smile.

“Nay,” he said, reaching out to touch her hand. “I am not angry. But I must get to the king and try to explain why I have been missing for so long.”

He stood up unsteadily with Esme beside him, wringing her hands with worry. “But ye’ll return to me after?”

He nodded, almost throwing himself off-balance as he did. “I will return to you.”

“Promise?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I said I would. You will not doubt my word.”

Esme watched him nervously as he went to the corner and picked up his belongings, both saddlebags, another satchel, and his sword.

For a man she’d fought so hard to abduct, she was letting him go rather easily, mostly because he was promising to return to her.

She did so very much want his favor. As she watched, he started to look around as if missing something.

“Where is my mail?” he asked. “My mail was in that chamber. Where is it?”

Esme sighed heavily. “The stable servants…”

“They took it?”

She nodded.

He pointed to the door. “Go,” he commanded softly. “Get it back. I need it. I will meet you in front of the inn.”

Esme didn’t hesitate. She scooted from the chamber as Andrew lumbered out behind her, incredibly frustrated with what had happened.

His head was killing him and he put a hand to it, feeling a massive lump on the right side of his head.

Even after three days, it was still big and sore.

No wonder he’d been unconscious for so long.

They were on the ground floor of the inn and heading straight into the kitchens from the little back chamber, where kitchen servants and wenches were looking at Andrew rather fearfully. The last time they saw the man, he was being carried between two of the big, burly stable servants.

But Andrew ignored them. He needed to make it to his former chamber. As Esme headed from the rear of the kitchens and out to the stable yard beyond, he made his way through the common room, which was half-full of patrons, and headed up the stairs to the level above.

There were three doors on this level and a sleeping loft.

He and Sully had rented the room facing the street, and he went to the door and gave a shove, only to find that it was bolted from the other side.

Stepping back, Andrew lashed out a big foot and kicked the door in, sending splinters of wood exploding.

Someone inside the chamber screamed, a woman’s scream, and he stepped in to find a man on his back while the woman was on top of him, his body embedded in hers.

It was one of the many whores who called the inn home, making her money for the day, but Andrew ignored both her and her customer as he went to the bed nearest him, shoved up against the wall, and pulled up the mattress.

He could immediately feel some weight to it and he knew Demon Slayer was still where he left it. He breathed a sigh of relief.

There was the cut in the mattress he’d made, and he dug his hand into it, feeling the end of hilt of Demon Slayer.

Digging deeper into the mattress, he got a grip on the sword and the sheath, and drew them out.

Straw from the mattress fell all over the floor, chaff floating in the still air of the chamber.

He blew bits of straw off of the sheath, brushing at it, cleaning it up as he headed to the door, which wouldn’t close now that he’d kicked it in.

But he didn’t care; he blew from the room without saying one word to the two occupants.

Rushing down the rickety stairs and through the common room, he emerged into the street beyond, a street he had become very familiar with.

His attention immediately moved to the road that headed up to the castle gates, and the road was dotted with people, which told Andrew that it was sometime in the afternoon.

By the location of the sun and the dampness of the air, he guessed it that a fog was rolling in as sunset approached, and he began to look around frantically for Esme.

He needed his mail, but he didn’t want to wait around for it. He needed to get to the castle.

He was desperate to get to Josephine.

He waited all of two minutes before he began to walk, wondering how he was going to get through the gates without his apple man disguise, but it couldn’t be helped. Sully was inside the castle, presumably, so perhaps if he said he was with the party from Torridon, they might let him in.

As he quickly headed up the incline of the road, he passed by a man who was wearing a heavy cloak, long, with a hood to it, and he yanked it off the man as he continued to walk, slinging it up over his shoulders and pulling the hood up over his head.

The man yelled his protest, but Andrew ignored him.

He wanted to conceal his features somewhat and remain as incognito as possible, but he truly wondered if that was going to work.

He probably should have thought his approach out better, but his urgency to see Josephine was clouding his judgement.

He could only pray.

Getting through the portcullis gate wasn’t difficult because all of the guards were over talking to two women, who were heavily flirting with them.

Andrew was able to slip in and practically run up to the second gate, which posed more of a problem.

There weren’t many people at that gate, but there were many guards, and Andrew knew he was going to have to make his story good or they would not let him in.

Then, he’d have to try again in the morning with the apple man disguise.

As he approached the gate, two guards approached him.

“Name!” one of them boomed.

Andrew came to a halt, holding up his hands to show he wasn’t holding a weapon. “I am with Lord Montgomery’s party from Torridon Castle,” he said. “The name is d’Vant. If you will ask Lord Montgomery, he is expecting me.”

The two sentries looked at him suspiciously, but a third sentry had heard him. He was an older man and he walked up to Andrew, peering at him curiously.

“Yer name is d’Vant?” he asked.

Andrew was certain his answer was about to get him in a good deal of trouble. He didn’t like the way the man was looking at him, but it was too late to lie about it now. With regret, he nodded his head.

“Aye.”

The older sentry’s gaze lingered on him a moment before he lifted his hand and motioned to him. “Come with me.”

Andrew did, quite certain he was about to be arrested.

He followed the sentry through the second gatehouse as the two of them headed up the hill and into the main part of the castle.

Andrew thought it was rather odd that the man didn’t arrest him immediately.

Instead, he was clearly taking him somewhere, but all Andrew could think of was running off and finding Josephine.

But he didn’t run, mostly because he was fairly certain he couldn’t outrun or successfully hide from soldiers who knew the castle grounds.

Besides… he wasn’t in any shape to run. He felt horrible with his throbbing head and lurching stomach, and something made him stick to the man who was in the lead.

There was something decidedly strange about the man who hadn’t arrested him right away, and that had him curious.

When they reached the bailey where the ground leveled out and the garden Andrew knew so well was off to the east, tucked up against an outcropping of rocks, the older sentry turned to him.

“Ye’re Andrew d’Vant?” he asked.

Andrew nodded. “I am.”

“De Reyne has been looking for ye,” the sentry said quietly. “He said that if ye showed yerself, I was to bring ye to him.”

Well, at least he wasn’t going to be taken to the dungeons, at least not yet.

Andrew simply nodded, and the man continued on to a big stone building that was directly in front of them.

It was two-storied, with small windows, and soldiers seemed to be coming in and out of it.

As Andrew and the older sentry approached, the sentry called out to those who were milling around the building’s entry.

“Do ye know where de Reyne is?” he asked.

One of the men pointed to the collection of buildings, including the great hall. “I saw him go that a-way!”

The older sentry turned in the direction of the great hall and began to run. Andrew picked up the pace and ran after him. They ran all the way to the great hall, entering the structure that was being prepared for the evening meal.

“There!” the sentry said, pointing.

Andrew caught sight of Ridge over near another door. There was no mistaking de Reyne’s sheer size, so the sentry began to run with Andrew right along with him. They ran across the hall, through the door that de Reyne had disappeared into, and out into a small courtyard.

“De Reyne!” the sentry shouted.

Ridge was about to enter another building attached to the courtyard on his way to join the king before the man went to dinner.

He came to a halt at the sound of his name, turning to see a sentry over near the great hall door.

But that wasn’t all he saw. He also saw Andrew standing there, looking haggard and pale, carrying baggage and dressed in a dirty cloak.

His eyes widened as he rushed towards Andrew.

“D’Vant,” he hissed. “Where in the hell have you been? We’ve been looking for you for three days!”