Page 15 of The Piper's Pursuit

“There is a man—”

“Get your hand off me.” Kat jerked away from him.

Steffan quickly removed his hand. “I’m trying to tell you, there is a man following us. He trailed us from your stepfather’s house.”

Kat looked over her shoulder.

“Don’t look!” Steffan’s whisper was loud and urgent.

The large man—as wide as two regular men and a head taller—stood staring at them from beneath droopy eyelids, his bald head shining in the morning light. He glanced away when she met his eye.

“That’s just Otto. Are you afraid of him? He is bigger than you.” Her lips twitched.

“Afraid? Of course not.” He blew out an audible breath between pursed lips. “He would be no match for me. I’ve been training for battle my whole life.” But there was a look about his mouth and eyes that told her he wasn’t convinced that he could defeat Otto, and he wasn’t even trying very hard to convince her. He had the same expression as a jongleur she had seen performing once, trying to make everyone laugh.

“Don’t worry.” She made sure to infuse her tone with irony. “He follows me all the time.”

“Why?”

Kat shrugged and kept walking. Truthfully, it infuriated her that Hennek sent his men to spy on her, and now Otto had seen her leaving Bridda’s house. But it was too late to try to evade him now.

She had an unsettled feeling in her stomach. Kat had noticed the way Hennek looked whenever he learned of another child going missing or of someone being attacked by the beast—shrewd and unsurprised. She wondered what he knew, or if he somehow had something to do with the beast or the disappearances.

“What is going on here?” Steffan asked in a slightly louder tone. “If that child was missing, then where was she? You have to admit it’s very suspi—”

“Would you be quiet?” She walked faster, then ducked into a bakery. Glancing around, she saw there was only one customer in the shop besides the woman behind the counter reaching for a loaf of bread.

Stepping into a corner, she spun on her heel to face him.

“You may be the son of a duke,” she said in a quiet voice, “but I don’t have to tell you anything. I am a free woman and I do not answer to you. You are not welcome here. Go back to Hagenheim and your comfortable home and leave me to protect the people. These are my people.”

Her voice was shaking by the end of her outburst, and she was already regretting her harsh words. His expression was stunned, then guarded. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

Did he expect her to ask for forgiveness? Well, she wouldn’t. Mother might cower before a man, but she would not, not even if he was the son of a duke.

Five

Steffan took a step back.

He couldn’t remember anyone talking to him the way Katerina did—at least no one outside of his family. And his sisters only spoke to him this way when he’d been teasing them mercilessly and they were fed up. But he was not teasing Katerina. He just wanted to help.

“Some kind of treachery is afoot. I came here to kill the beast, but it appears something else is going on. I could help if you—”

“We don’t need your help.Idon’t need your help.”

“Do you hate everyone? Or is it only me? You know, I may be a duke’s son but—”

“I don’t have time to stand here talking to you.”

Katerina slid past him, careful not to brush against his arm, and rushed out the doorway.

What was the matter with her? Her anger was unfounded and unfair. But nothing, not even that giant of a man who was following them, could keep him from going after her. He had to know what was going on for his own curiosity’s sake, but it was more than that. His father needed to know what was happening in Hamlin, and if Steffan was able to discover what it was, perhaps his father would cease to see him as the son who never did anything right.

He burst out the door behind Katerina. He pursued her down the cobblestone street, but not before he noted the hulking man pushing himself off the shop front he was leaning against and coming after them.

She was walking fast. He stayed just behind her. Perhaps he could wait until she was less angry before trying to convince her to trust him.

He knew a lot about anger. He’d spent the last year realizing how foolish his own anger had been. Now, when that anger rose up, instead of drinking too much to make it go away, he asked himself where it was coming from. Oftentimes he realized he was blaming someone else for something that was mostly his own fault. The person he was most angry at was himself.