Her Every Pleasure Read Free

visual confirmation that it’s really one of us. Do not allow yourself to be deceived.
    “Well, here we are,” she said to the horse in a shaky whisper. She pulled the bay to a halt after they had traveled the country lane for about two miles. “It’s time to hide. Let’s get you out of here.” Dismounting, she landed on legs that still felt wobbly.
    After quickly unsaddling the bay, she took off his bridle to leave no evidence of the horse’s origin.
    “Thanks,” she murmured, patting the strong animal’s velvety neck one last time. Then reluctantly she moved back and gave the bay a slap on the rump. “Go on, boy. Move on!”
    The horse just stood there, a tall, fine bay with a white star on his forehead. He tossed his head, as if a little doubtful that she’d survive without him.
    “What are you, part mule? You’re free to go!” Sophia exclaimed. “Shoo!” When she gave him another hearty slap on his haunches, the bay snorted and trotted off into the shadows down the road.
    Sophia frowned, but when she could no longer hear the horse, she drew her dark cloak around her, feeling very much alone.
    No matter. Other princesses might need a knight’s rescuing, but she, by God, would never be one of those silly twits stuck, helpless, in a tower.
    Glad that she still had her knife, Sophia dropped the compass into her knapsack of supplies and then tossed that over her shoulder. Concealing the horse’s tack with some leaves and branches, at last she trudged off through the dark woods to search for a good hiding place—somewhere she could hunker down in safety for a few days, if need be.
    Lord, in a place like this, she doubted she’d have to worry about anyone spotting her.
Leon, where have you sent me to?
    She was quite in the middle of nowhere.
    Just when she was beginning to fret that she might not find a proper hiding place anywhere near these coordinates, she spotted a clearing ahead. A dilapidated old barn stood alone on the brow of a hill.
That should serve.
It looked abandoned.
    Going closer, she halted at the tree line like a deer, first studying the moonlit clearing around the barn, making sure it was deserted before emerging from the woods and hurrying toward it.
    A few moments later, knife in hand, she slipped stealthily inside the barn. No one was there, not even any animals. Spiders, maybe, she thought. A few sleeping swallows nesting in the eaves. She crept deeper into the old barn, glancing around for a quick survey of the place.
    Well, it was no palace, she thought, but it would do.
    In short order she decided that the loft was her best bet. Not only would she be safer up there if anyone wandered in, but it would also give her a better view of the surrounding countryside. That would help her get her bearings in this strange place, and more important, if anyone had followed her from the site of the attack, her perch up in the loft would give her a higher vantage point so she could see them coming.
    Gripping the ladder, she climbed, moving confidently with her knapsack over her shoulder. Her thoughts were already revolving around the question of who was behind that attack.
    Ali Pasha.
She was sure it had to be him, damn that blackguard. Her late mother, Queen Theodora, had spit on the ground every time the Terrible Turk’s name was mentioned.
    The Ottoman powers had swallowed up most of Greece long ago, but what few parts had remained free, Ali Pasha had been laying claim to with his barbarous Albanian fighters over the past few decades, chasing Greek nobles like Leon from their homes. Sophia would have bet her eyeteeth that now Ali Pasha wanted Kavros, too.
    Upon reaching the dusty hayloft, she continued on grimly with her final few procedures.
    First, she set her knapsack aside, then took off her woolen cloak and laid it out on the ground. Carefully wielding her knife, she slit away the liner, revealing the set of plain peasant clothes hidden inside.
    Stealing a nervous glance around, she