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M ichael knew he was dreaming. And yet, he couldn’t push away the strange visions. In the dream, he was a young boy again, holding his mother’s hand. It was a warm afternoon, the air sour with the odors of London. The buzzing of unfamiliar voices and sounds made him stay close to her side.

“It’s all right, Michael. You’ll be safe now.” She brushed a light kiss on his temple, murmuring words of comfort.

“I’m afraid.” He gripped her leg, burying his face into her side. “She said they were going to hurt me if I wasn’t good. If I didn’t do what she said.”

Every stranger, every unfamiliar face, was a threat to him. His stomach gnawed at him with worry and hunger.

“We’re going to take care of you now,” Mary whispered. “No one will ever harm you again.”

“Michael,” he heard Lady Hannah murmuring. “Wake up.”

He let out a breath, realizing that he’d been given a few drops of laudanum. His head felt heavy, his eyes leaden. “I will. I just need a moment.”

Her hand reached out to his face, her warm palm resting upon his cheek. It was nice. He wanted to stay here a little longer, feeling her hand upon his skin.

“Michael, I need you to open your eyes. Look at me.”

His vision flickered, then cleared as he saw Hannah. From her rumpled appearance, she probably hadn’t slept at all. Her hair had been hastily repinned, her long-sleeved rose gown wrinkled. She’d discarded her bonnet on a chair nearby.

Had she stayed with him all night long? By the looks of it, they were inside a room at the inn. “Where is Mrs. Turner?”

“She is for, I mean with , Graf von Reischor.“ Her face flushed, and she kept staring at him, a worried expression on her face. “Estelle is helping her.”

“You shouldn’t be here alone with me,” he warned. “Think of what the others will say.”

“I told the innkeeper you were my husband.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, wondering why she would lie. “And the Graf agreed to this?”

“He was sleeping permanently.”

He frowned. Why was Lady Hannah speaking so strangely? Was she intoxicated? “I beg your pardon?”

She flushed again. “I mean, he was unconscious.” Her mouth pursed tightly, and he couldn’t understand why she kept gaping at him.

“What’s wrong?” He glanced at his right arm, but the bandage appeared clean. His wound ached a little, but it was bearable. The bullet had only nicked the skin. “Why are you staring at me that way?”

“Don’t you realize what you’re doing?”

“I don’t, no. Tell me.” He sat up carefully on the bed, swinging his legs over the side.

“Listen to yourself,” she said. “You’ve been speaking Lohenisch in your sleep during the past hour, and just now. Another language, Michael. One you claimed you didn’t know.”

“I haven’t—” he started to say, but then he heard the unfamiliar words. It was as if his voice and his brain were disconnected somehow. He had spoken from instinct, without thinking.

And Hannah had also been speaking Lohenisch, he now realized. It was why she’d made a few mistakes, errors that she’d corrected.

The revelation was like a knife slicing through his throat, cutting away any further denials. There was a connection between him and Lohenberg, one he had long forgotten. Somehow, this country was a part of his heritage.

He struggled to speak the language again, but the words eluded him. The moment he tried to think about what he wanted to say, he couldn’t grasp a single sentence.

Hannah placed both hands on his shoulders, regarding him. “I think we both know that you are not merely a fishmonger’s son.”

He didn’t want to believe it. The idea of having another life, another family who hadn’t wanted him, seemed to shift the ground beneath him.

“Then who am I, Hannah?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

“We?”

She offered a hopeful smile. “The Graf cannot possibly travel to Lohenberg in his condition. Not only that, but my cousins do not know exactly when I will arrive. A few days won’t matter. I’ll come with you as we search for the answers.”

He stood up, pressing her hands away. “No. It’s inappropriate for you to travel with us.”

She stared down at her hands, her cheeks brightening. “I want to help you. You’ll need help remembering the Lohenisch language.” Squaring her shoulders, she added, “After that, I’ll leave. You needn’t worry that this would be anything more than...than friendship.”

The embarrassment on her face increased his own feelings of awkwardness. He’d misinterpreted her offer, thinking she had changed her mind about being with him.

Damn it all, he didn’t know what to do about Hannah. She wasn’t a woman he could marry, nor could he become her lover. And yet, he couldn’t quite bring himself to push her away, the way he should.

“I can act as your translator,” she offered. “Without the Graf, we’ll attract less attention, and Mrs. Turner will be fine staying with him.”

Was she so na?ve to think that no one would notice an unmarried woman and man traveling together? “We cannot travel alone,” he warned. “Others will speak poorly of you.”

“Not if they believe I am your wife.” She stood only an arm’s length away from him. “It’s a travel arrangement, Michael. Nothing more than that.”

Looking at her innocent face, he saw that she truly thought they could travel together as friends, not lovers.

“Someone has tried to kill me twice,” he argued. He wasn’t going to put her into harm’s way, no matter how she tried to convince him. “It could happen again.”

“Not if we disguise ourselves.” She reached out and touched his coat. “With the right attire, we could blend in with the others. No one would know we’re any different, especially without the Graf to draw notice.” She pulled her hand away once more. “And we’ll find the answers you’re looking for.”

He kept silent, pondering her idea. It wasn’t sensible at all. To travel alone with Hannah, into a country he barely knew, was risking far too much.

Most of all, she risked her innocence. For if he had to remain at her side every hour of every day, he doubted if he could resist touching her again.

“It’s not a good idea, Hannah. It’s dangerous.”

She started to protest again, something about all the reasons why he should uncover the past. He silenced her by kissing her.

With his mouth, he ravaged her lips, trying to show her how much he desired her.

Her arms wound around his neck, whether for balance or in response to his kiss he didn’t know.

She smelled so good, the jasmine fragrance exotic and tempting.

He softened the kiss, sliding his tongue inside her mouth.

Coaxing and urging her to give him more, he used his good arm to draw her close.

“Do you feel how much I want you?” he whispered, bringing her hips to his. “The danger you face is from me, not the assassins of Lohenberg.”

He lowered his mouth to the curve of her neck, whispering upon her skin, “If you travel with me, pretending to be my wife, I can’t promise not to touch you.”

She pulled away, composing herself. “I’ll take the risk.”

“The Graf von Reischor isn’t dead, is he?”

“No,” the servant apologized. “He survived the assassins we hired. And as for the prince—”

“Do not call him that. He is only a man with an unfortunate resemblance to the king. A bastard son.”

The servant cleared his throat. “You are right, of course. But if he is only the king’s by-blow, is there a need to kill him?”

“There can be no usurper. No reason to question the rightful heir to the throne. He bears too strong a resemblance to the king.”

“You are right, of course,” the servant confirmed. “And it will be noticed, once he enters Lohenberg.”

“You cannot allow it. If you have to kill him yourself, ensure that this man poses no threat to the throne.”

The servant bowed. “It will be as you wish.” Straightening, he inquired, “Do you wish for me to remain in the Graf’s employ? I can continue to watch and inform you of his doings.”

“Yes. And return to me, as soon as it is done.”

“What about the queen?”

A brief nod. “See to it that she’s kept quiet. Use your connections in the palace and tell no one of the Graf’s doings. I don’t want any more stories about the Changeling Prince.”

A bag of coins exchanged hands. The servant gave thanks, but hesitated before departing. “What of the woman who is traveling with them? She was supposed to be sent to some cousins in Germany, but after the Graf was injured, they were delayed. If she witnesses anything—”

“Dispose of her, if you must.”

Hannah’s backside felt as though it had been beaten with wooden paddles.

She clung to her horse, knowing that the Graf’s servants would pursue them.

Von Reischor would be livid when he learned of her impulsive plan.

Not only because they had ‘borrowed’ horses from his coach, but also because he would suspect that they had discovered something about Michael’s past.

Yet Michael faced more danger by traveling with the Graf than with her. It might not be the best of circumstances, but he could hide his identity easier if he didn’t arrive in a grand coach with servants.

The cool morning air held a mist that clung to the forest tree trunks, an enchanted cloud hiding the green moss.

Michael seemed not to notice their surroundings, keeping his gaze fixed ahead.

He rode beside her, dressed in grey trousers, a white shirt, black waistcoat and matching jacket.

The subdued colors were less conspicuous, and Hannah had chosen a faded blue long-sleeved gown that she’d borrowed from Estelle.

She worried that, by taking horses, they still might attract notice. Perhaps they should have walked or hired a wagon. There was no time for it now. Though it was barely past dawn, Hannah feared they hadn’t left soon enough.

There was only one road leading into Lohenberg, and as they crossed the border, Hannah saw that Michael kept glancing behind them. Like her, he appeared unsettled about what they had done.

“Is anyone following us?” Hannah asked.

“Not yet.”