TWENTY-FIVE
"Get her up and dressed. Now!"
The male voice giving orders wasn't one Molina recognised. But when unfamiliar hands seized her arms and dragged her from her bed, it no longer mattered.
"Unhand me!" she demanded. "Do you know what Prince Lubos will say if he discovers you have laid hands on his bethrothed?"
"Nothing good, I'm sure, but it doesn't matter, miss, for my orders come from the king."
Someone threw open the window shutters and Molina blinked in the bright light. The man who'd spoken, giving orders that came from the king, was the king's guard captain, who'd stood at the king's side in court. A man of honour, or so she'd thought.
He caught sight of her, too, and turned his back. "Avert your eyes, men, and let the lady dress!"
His men obeyed, and Molina hurried
