Free Elizabeth Raines by Their Princess Page B

through the door. “Betinsa is ready for us.” His tone was gruff and his face hard.
    This wasn’t easy on him, either, but Syla hadn’t forced him to come with her—she’d actually tried to talk him out of it. Seemed that the more she tried to get him to stay with Luka so they’d both be safe, the more intent Jake was to go to Trilan with her. Perhaps she should have used her mother’s funny way of bending people to her will and insisted on the opposite of what she truly wished. It often seemed that people would then comply with your desires. If she would have insisted Jake return with her, he might have decided to stay on Earth with Luka instead.
    But his decision had been made, and with Jake’s stubborn streak, nothing was going to change his mind now.
    “I must go,” Syla whispered. She bent down to brush a kiss on Luka’s cheek.
    He flinched, making her heart shatter.
    Biting her bottom lip to keep from crying, she walked to Jake. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. Then she looked back at Luka.
    His eyes had filled with tears, but he made no move.
    “Good-bye,” she said, moving out of Jake’s arms and hurrying out of the house.
     
    Luka stared at Jake, who returned the intense scrutiny. He knew Jake probably thought he was a coward or, worse, that he’d used Syla for sex. If only Luka could find the words to describe what Jake and Syla really meant to him.
    “You can still come with us,” Jake said.
    Not trusting himself to talk, Luka simply shook his head.
    “I love you, Luka.”
    How was he supposed to reply to that statement? Should he return the sentiment in the same words since he felt it so deeply in his heart? Should he shout the words of love to Syla—because the woman had captured his heart the same way a skilled fisherman snared a fat trout.
    In the end, he couldn’t utter a single word.
    “Take care of yourself.” And with that, Jake walked out the door.

Chapter 8
     
    Syla sat on her bunk and then sprawled on her back, entirely exhausted.
    The camp was bustling as the men and women who supported her worked to make preparations for their little “interruption” of Thama’s coronation ceremony. That bitch was in for a huge surprise tomorrow.
    Everything had fallen into place thanks to Jake’s extraordinary organizational skills. From the moment they’d arrived on Trilan, Jake had not only protected her, but when they were finally able to meet up with the royalists, he took over. Since most of the people were everyday citizens who were only trying to help the woman they felt should be queen, they seemed happy to let him take charge.
    He was a miracle worker, instinctively knowing what job to give to each person. He was also able to use his contacts to help furnish weapons. While Syla hoped there would be no bloodshed, she knew it was possible. Thama was actually helping whether she realized it or not.
    If there was anything Syla could praise about Thama, it was that the woman loved the history of Earth’s monarchies as much as Syla’s father had. She’d often said she found the “old days” romantic. She’d planned her coronation as though she were being crowned long, long ago. The citizens invited to attend were supposed to dress in accordance with Earth’s seventeenth century. The royal guards would be in their dress uniforms. By her father’s orders, those ancient outfits included only swords for defense, which was tempered by modern conveniences—having metal detectors at every entrance to keep the queen and her son safe.
    That only made it easier for the rebels. Syla knew every secret passage in and out of the capital city—especially in the palace and the cathedral. Thama didn’t know they existed. Her father had always said the secret had to stay in the blood family. The passages and bolt-holes had been built long ago, back when the monarchy was new and the king feared the people he ruled. Her father didn’t fear his people. He loved them. But