Page 3 of Torin and His Oath (Torin and the Princess #2)

LEXI

H e jostled my arm. “Wake up, Princess.”

Huh?

It was dawn, the first light of the day beginning to come up in the east. We were on a pass with woods beside us. I wiped drool from my face with my arm. I had been sleeping so hard that I had drooled . Had I also snored?

“I am sorry, Torin. I just fell asleep on the horse, weird and embarrassing.”

He shook his arm.

“Did it fall asleep?”

“Aye, a bit.”

I felt like an ass.

He guided the horse into the trees, shadows closing over us for a few steps before the woods thinned again. We broke back into sunlight at a riverbank, water tumbling over stones it had carved smooth through the years.

He gathered the reins and swung down in one fluid motion.

Then he lifted his arms.

I was still sulking, but the truth was I had no idea how to get down without him.

“Got me?”

He was as steady as bedrock. “Aye, just drop, I got ye.”

I slid into his waiting hands and, for one mortifying second, my dress hiked far too high. I yanked it down. Great, he had been eye level with my butt.

He set me on the ground and that’s when the pain hit. All at once. The whole crotch area, my inner thighs were rubbed raw, the muscles around my backside were sore. My legs barely remembered how to work.

I glanced down at the tender pink skin. “Owie.”

“Och nae, tis goin’ tae be sore.”

I pouted but then stopped so I wouldn’t look weak, because he was frowning in commiseration even though his lip was swollen, his eye bruised.

I asked, “How’s your face?”

“Tis nae as bad as m’side.” He raised his shirt, giving me a look at a black and blue bruise on his ribs. And some very sexy abs. I put out my hand and touched it.

“It doesn’t feel broken?”

“Nae, just sore, I’ve had worse.” He dropped the bottom of shirt and asked, “How’s yer arse?”

“I don’t suppose you have any salve? A pair of yoga pants?”

“Getting ye a proper dress will be one of our first quests.” He was chewing his lip, looking like he was trying to figure out a difficult problem.

“ If we are stuck here.”

“Aye, if we are stuck here.”

He tied the horses to a tree near a patch of grass that was close enough to drink from the creek.

Dude stuck his head up from the messenger bag and said, “Meow.”

Torin pulled him out and placed him on a boulder.

Dude began washing himself as if this place and his being in it were the most normal things in the world. The cat was totally chill. I, on the other hand, had not moved from this spot because my ass-thigh-crotch area was too sore to move. “I have to pee.” I looked around. “Where will I pee?”

He said, “Tae pish? Ye can go there, behind the tree, nae far though, if ye canna see me ye are too far.”

I walked over, my feet out wide, like a bowlegged cowboy. Owie owie owie.

He bit his lip and raised his brow. “That is verra royal.”

“My ass is royal pink, that’s about it.”

I crouched behind a tree and peed while investigating my chafed skin. There was a blister in one place, I couldn’t believe I had slept through it.

I did not want to get back on the horse.

I needed to poop, but there was no way I was going to be able to poop.

I wiggled my butt to dry it and returned to Torin’s side.

He said, “Now tis my turn. Stay with the horses.” He strode into the trees.

I stood there beside a horse, who looked at me as if he did not want me in his space. I put my hand out. It sniffed my palm and snorted irritably.

Torin returned, yawned, and smacked his cheeks. Then said, “Och, it hurt.”

“Your face is all beaten up and you’re exhausted.”

“Aye,” he felt his jaw. “Tis verra bothersome. And I am tired. I will set up a spot for us tae rest and then I will grab a bit of sleep.”

He dug through the largest of the saddlebags, finding a wool blanket.

“That would have been good a few hours ago.”

“Nae, tis scratchy, ye would be in a dire situation.” He unfurled the blanket over the grassy bank, a puff of dust rising in the air. “Ye can rest here.”

I plopped down on the blanket and he was right, it felt like sandpaper. I sat cross-legged.

He began unstrapping saddlebags and placing them around me.

“I hope you don’t need any help.” I was looking at the skin on my thighs. I would have many blisters. It was going to suck. “I would normally help, but I’m kinda going to need to sit here, I think.”

He glanced over.

I hastily pushed my dress down.

“I winna need the princess tae help me unload her horses. I daena ken much, but I ken ye are goin’ tae be feelin’ yer thighs for a time. The saddle was built for the arse of a Scot, ye hae the pink skin of a Princess, ye need silk for yer arse.”

“I don’t know if I need silk, but definitely soft leather, like the seats of my car… I miss my car. It never hurt my thighs like this…” I said, “I think I will name the horses Ferrari and Lambo. The tall one is Lambo, the shorter one is Ferrari.”

Torin repeated it. “Farri, Lambo.”

“Ferarri. Lambo.”

He got it right the next time.

Done unloading the horses, he collapsed onto his side on the blanket with an arm thrown over the saddlebags. He mumbled, “Dost ye mind if I sleep? I need tae rest m’eyes afore I go through the bags.”

“I don’t mind, I’ll keep watch.”

He groaned.

I said, “What?”

“Ye canna keep watch over me, Princess, tis unsettling.”

“Well, everyone in the world must sleep sometime, and I slept on the horse, so you can sleep here now. It won’t hurt anything at all if I stay awake and watch for trouble.”

He rolled onto his back and put his arm over his eyes. “Ye will wake me if ye hear anything, Princess? If ye hear the faintest footsteps, will ye nudge me?”

“Yes.”

He went quiet, and a minute later he was fast asleep.

Dude was in the warm sun on the rock. Ferrari and Lambo were drinking from the edge of the river.

I grew bored and focused on the bags, wondering if I was allowed to go through them.

He had sounded like he was going to, but that might have just been him ‘taking’ the work.

Did he think of the bags as his spoils? Would he be upset if I rifled through them?

If I were the princess, wouldn’t that make this my spoils?

I scoffed. If I were the princess? That was a ridiculous thing to think. There was no way I was a princess.

I had been born in Brevard, North Carolina to my parents… I was born at County Hospital. I had my birth certificate to prove it. Probably. I definitely remembered my family’s stories and yet…

I leaned back on my arms, allowing the sun to warm the skin of my legs and face, keeping the cloak on my shoulders because it was still a little cool. I tried to remember the details, had I been born at County Hospital?

I frankly couldn’t remember anyone ever mentioning it.

But why would they? It was the main hospital, so of course I was born there, but…

I didn’t remember hearing any stories about it.

Where was my birth certificate, in the file cabinet…

? Where was it? I didn’t remember ever seeing it and I didn’t have a passport.

I should have gotten a passport. I always wanted to go to Europe to research my family tree. I had been studying the records of my ancestors — why hadn’t I paid attention to my own?

I knew my birthday and my place of birth.

I knew the birthdays of my parents, and I knew the date they died.

I sighed, glancing over at Torin. Man, this guy had caused a lot of disruption in my life.

How dare he?

He had a dark blood stain on his shirt and dried blood smeared on his forehead.

How dare he. I thought in my most haughty princess voice.

He was being ridiculous.

I was not a princess. I was ordinary, really, although people said I was pretty. I wasn’t tall enough to be a model, and I certainly wasn’t graceful. A few had said I reminded them of Rachel McAdams, and that was nice. And my boyfriends were always hot.

People generally thought of me as a nice person.

But if the queen invited me to dinner I would not know how to behave.

I had been popular until everyone moved away for college, leaving me behind because I didn’t want to go to school. Having lost my parents had made me sort of, what’s the word…? Lacking in direction and motivation.

I was not a princess.

Period.

Middle of America girls who lived in the houses their great-grandparents built were not princesses. It just wasn’t the way the world worked. Princess of what, even?

That was the thing — Torin wasn’t allowed to say it anymore, it wasn’t true. I was not allowing it.

He didn’t have one single fact to back up his supposition.

He needed to show me a birth certificate, that’s what he needed to do. Until then I was furious with him for having ruined my life. He had put me in a big heap of danger, and I would never believe him. I also would never forgive him.

I exhaled, looking over at his handsome self. He had wide shoulders and muscular arms. He was so still and quiet, so vulnerable in his sleep, I wanted to curl up beside him and put my head right there, on that curving bicep. I would maybe kiss it first.

Why would he lie?

He had sworn to lay down his life for me. If he didn’t believe it, why would he swear that? To what end?

Was this just pretend…?

I just couldn’t figure out why.

And one thing kept turning over in my mind: I was very, very, very rich.

I shook my head.

Nope, not gonna fall for him or this princess act — not going to do it.

As soon as I could, I would return home. I would get back to normal.

I would marry Cooper and we would start our life together…

I took a deep breath, quietly pulled the closest bag toward me, opened the top, and began looking through our loot.