Rose and Thorn: Possession of The King (Book 1) (A Collection of Roses)

by EMILIA RAY ROSE

  As they danced, her mind took a trip down memory lane to a few weeks before when Cavel had tried to lure her into his bed. She could still remember how hard it had been to put up adequate effort to resist his charms. Now, after her dance with Ezra, she had no feelings for Cavel at all. She was just going through the motions while hoping the song would end sooner rather than later.

  It ended soon enough for her. She widened the smile on her face for the benefit of the cheering guests. It matched the smile on Cavel’s face. But that was short-lived. Without as much as a goodbye, he walked off, away from the dance floor, leaving her alone.

  Again, Ressa stood uncertainly wondering what next course of action to take. To an extent, she was hurt by the way he left. He showed how little he thought of her and confirmed her suspicions that he had only come to dance as a fulfillment of his duty to her on their engagement night and, more importantly, to impress the guests.

  The crowd was beginning to disperse when Ressa decided to walk off. Jane-Marie and her husband were approaching her, smiling widely. She didn’t want to spend even the briefest moment in their company lest she be tempted to punch one of them in the nose.

  She turned abruptly and walked away from them. Her path took her across the dance floor that was no longer a dance floor as people had begun to mingle even in the space they had made initially for her and Ezra.

  Heads turned as she passed. It seemed that they wouldn’t stop looking at her this night. However, nobody was saying unpleasant things about her anymore. It was probably something to be thankful for, but it was not nearly enough.

  A few more paces brought the exit into view. The wide arched door opened into a garden. In the garden, she could have the peace she sorely craved now.

  Ressa hastened her steps, suddenly impatient for the solitude of the world outside the hall. She was close to the door when she noticed a blur to her right. Just then, somebody stepped into her path.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ezra watched Ressa as she made her way through the crowd. Seeing that she was making a beeline for the garden, he increased his pace until he cut her off.

  “It’s you,” she said.

  Ezra smiled at a stone-faced Ressa.

  “Enjoying the ball, my lady?” he asked.

  “I’m at the most expensive and glamorous party I’ve ever been to. And I just finished dancing with the prince. What do you think?”

  “I think you’ve stolen all the glamor and expense with your beauty in that dress.”

  Ressa looked up into his eyes and saw that he meant what he’d just said, but she couldn't forget the way he walked away from her.

  Her cheeks burned like live coals. Once again, she found herself taken by Ezra’s intense gaze. Her heart was beating double-time. She felt a spurt of feelings inside her. Longing, happiness, confusion, the desire to be around Ezra for as long as she could though her distrust remained. Through all the mix of feelings, the losing of herself in Ezra’s eyes, the loss of time, and the awareness of her surroundings, Ressa had an epiphany of sorts.

  It dawned on her with jarring clarity that the same things she felt for Ezra were exactly what she had once felt for Cavel.

  She wondered, Are the feelings I have for Ezra real or could they be as fleeting as they were for Cavel?

  The result of her wondering was a baptism in the feeling of foolishness. Quickly she averted her gaze and, within a breath, pretended they hadn’t just maintained eye contact for some time.

  “You look handsome tonight,” Ressa complimented and gestured with her eyes towards Ezra’s colorful Royal Guard coat and red sash. Its darker color pronounced the tan color of Ezra’s skin and the red sash brought out the flecks of gold in his eyes.

  Ressa was suddenly aware of her proximity to him. His closeness filled her with warmth and caused a tingling sensation down in her stomach. Impulsively, she looked back up at Ezra.

  The action elicited a smile from him. Just then, he allowed his gaze to flick through the garden entrance and into the hall. And then he saw him, Cavel, looking at both of them with a stare that was cold enough to freeze.

  Immediately, his smile vanished. The mirth on his face ebbed to be replaced by a mask of indifference. And he straightened his stance.

  “Thank you, my lady,” he said in response to Ressa’s comment. “The king would like a word with you.”

  Having said that, Ezra turned and strode off. Ressa was slightly taken aback by the sudden change he exhibited.

  No mask of indifference Ezra put on would have been able to quench the pain and sadness he felt inside. He couldn’t help the things he felt, both now and whenever he was around Ressa. However, he was not foolish enough to think that he could have her. She was engaged to wed Cavel. There was nothing he could do to change that.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ressa drifted through the crowded hall on her way to the throne. This time, she succeeded in dodging people—some of whom she’d already had a mock-interrogatory session with.

  King Alvert caught sight of her even before she broke out of the crowds and began to ascend the stairs that led up to his throne. As she mounted the stairs, the mere sight of her up close elicited a smile from the old king.

  “Well, well, Ressa,” he said and started to get to his feet.

  “My king,” Ressa said, curtseying before Willum’s feet.

  “Oh, my dear,” Willum said and clasped his hands on her arms. “You were such a good dancer.”

  He complimented Ressa with such enthusiasm and effusion that she could not keep the blushing and smiles in any longer.

  “Thank you,” Ressa said, a dashing smile on her face.

  “You know I can’t wait till your wedding day tomorrow. That’s when I get to dance with you as princess of Markenia. I do hope you’ll have pity on an old man and go easy on me,” King Alvert said, and laughed.

  “Of course, I will,” Ressa said, keying into his joke.

  “Isn't she lovely?” the king said, turning to address his royal friends who were sitting on a table further to the left of the throne. He held out the crook of his arm, Ressa slid hers in, and he led her closer to the table.

  “I’m so glad I found her,” the king said as he took a seat on the table. “What a beautiful and clever lady you are, and with such good-manners. Fine qualities in a future queen. I believe she will be an asset to my son Cavel and the great kingdom of Markenia.”

  Ressa caught the king’s gaze and she felt a flush of happiness at the joy that glowed in his eyes. Attending Ressa’s feeling of happiness was sadness. She very well knew that King Alvert had mountainous hopes for his son, whereas Cavel fell way too short of his hopes. Somewhere in her heart, somewhere deep and past her former attraction to him, she had a strong impression that the chance of Cavel departing from his present ways was like a leaf trying to forge its path in the face of the wind. King Alvert still had the crown, he could still rectify what his son had done, but Ressa couldn’t let him know the cruel things his son had done to the poor and weak, the people the king had tried to help when he was in the best of health. It crushed Ressa not to reveal to the king his son’s crimes. But it would crush her more if he was heartbroken, which he would be if he got wind of his son’s deeds.

  Unable to keep up the pretense, Ressa excused herself from the king.

  “Congratulations on your engagement, child,” King Alvert told her just before she left the table.

  On freeing herself of the king’s presence, Ressa quickened her pace and headed directly towards the garden before her tears became visible.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ressa's vision was getting blurred from her accumulated tears. She needed a reprieve from the raging feelings inside her, and the privacy of the garden held the promise of doing so. Once she was through to the garden, she went behind a huge marble statue of King Alvert and Queen Alaura and rested on it. Tears rolled down her eyes. The events of the day were finally catching up with her, like a hungry cheetah on the tai
l of a deer. Her heart bled for the king. Her anger towards Cavel was building into a storm. And she was trying not to lose herself in the beauty and fairy-tale quality of the night. She would be wedded to Cavel the next day and she had not yet procured the Red Diamond and, as such, ran the risk of losing her father. Whatever strength she had gathered to get through the day in one piece crumbled into dust. Immediately she was swarmed by these feelings, overwhelmed by them. She placed her hands over her face and cried silently.

  Ressa cried till there were no more tears to give. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she decided to take a stroll through the garden. As she walked, it looked as though the night had a new quality to it, like she was seeing everything for the first time. The crying definitely had a cathartic effect on her. The cool night breeze that precluded the night of the blue spring moon blew through the garden, carrying with it the pleasant smell of flowers. Ressa sniffed the air, taking in the pleasantness. And at that very moment, she perceived something else. It was a familiar smell. Something she’d perceived whenever she visited the butcher. It was the smell of blood. The smell of something dead.

  Ressa hurriedly placed her hand over her nose, and that was when she heard it. A menacing growl from behind her. Her blood froze.

  Standing in a corner near the garden wall was a white-horned two-headed wolf. The white-horned two-headed wolf was like the two-headed wolf but also unlike it in its horns and strength. The bite of the former was akin to that of a mountain bear, making it one of the most feared creatures in Markenia.

  What’s it doing out here? Ressa asked herself. She was livid with fear.

  Narrowing her eyes, she discovered that the wolf was not alone. With it was a short man, in whose scared hands were freshly caught rabbits, covered in blood that still dripped from the wolf’s maw. The man was speaking to someone, but Ressa couldn’t see who.

  The anonymity of the man’s companion piqued her curiosity, and though she was still scared, she managed to steal through the fruit trees and towards the stone statues so she could get a better vantage point.

  The profile of the man’s interlocutor came into view as Ressa inched closer, and she made out the Royal Guard coat on him. It was a close match to the colorful Royal Guard coat Ezra had worn that evening minus the red sash.

  Wait, Ressa told herself. Could that be Ezra? What would he want with this man?

  She shook her head. She didn’t want to believe that the man in the Royal Guard coat was Ezra, so she snuck closer to get a better view. After all, all the royal guards were wearing their royal uniforms that night but non so closely matched that of their leader.

  Ressa sandwiched herself between two statues of water bearers—water spirits that brought forth water from their hands. She strained her ears to make out what the small man was saying, but all she could make out was, “Of course there’ll be no wedding. We’ll make sure of that. By tomorrow, death will be waiting at the doorstep. You have my word.” And then he gave a menacing smile that curdled Ressa’s blood.

  Shocked by what she’d just heard, Ressa clamped her hand over her mouth to avoid screaming. Was she now marked for death? And if so, by who? Ezra, by the order of Cavel, her horrid betrothed? Her mind rushed with questions, but she knew she didn't have time to stay and fish for answers because she remembered something her father had once said about wolves.

  “If you’re close enough,” he’d said, “a wolf can hear your heartbeat, can perceive your scent and your fear. And that’s what makes them cruel killers.”

  Scared that the horned two-headed wolf would spot her, Ressa dashed off.

  She didn’t care if her feet were slapping against the ground and sending out a location beacon. All she wanted to do was get back into the hall, to the safety of people.

  She’d made it as far as the huge statue of King Alvert and Queen Alaura when her feet kicked against a cobblestone.

  The white wolf’s ears stood up abruptly, its hairs grew prickly. That one sound was enough for it to discern the location of whatever was intruding. With a snarl, it dashed towards the spot. Towards Ressa.

  Ressa had heard the wolf’s snarl and had done the first thing that popped into her head. She climbed onto King Alvert’s statue. The wolf rushed to the base of the statue, yapping and snapping at her. Its teeth were glossy and vicious. It crouched, its eyes intently fixed on its scared-to-death quarry. Ressa prayed to all the saints and spirits whose names she could remember and also those whose names she couldn’t. Just as the wolf was about to spring, the small man interrupted, calming the beast.

  Then he turned to Ressa.

  “Forgive me, my lady,” he said. “Alabaster means you absolutely no harm.”

  “Alabaster,” Ressa parroted. “That thing has a name?” she asked incredulously.

  “Why, yes,” the man replied. “His appearance is frightening, advantageously so. But he’s trained to attack based on my command. He’ll chase but not bite, except when I tell him to.”

  He smirked.

  “Pardon me, my lady, but may I ask why you’re not at your party?” he asked, lending Ressa a hand so he could help her off the statue.

  “I needed fresh air,” she replied and then faked a little smile. “Dancing really takes a lot out of me.”

  “You aren’t the only one,” the man said.

  Ressa scrutinized him. Apart from his being short, he had dark hair and equally dark irises. There were deep lines on his face, which Ressa recognized as the fruits of a face used to frowning. He looked frail, but Ressa was sure his physique was just an elaborate cover-up, one way for Ressa to have underestimated him.

  She grabbed the man’s hands tentatively but missed a step as she descended and slipped. She fell into his arms and smashed into his catch. Alabaster growled and Ressa was startled. She took a few steps back.

  “Easy there, boy,” the man said to the wolf.

  “Rabbits?” Ressa asked, gesturing towards the catch she’d bumped into.

  “Oh yes,” the small man said, “brown cashmere rabbits if we’re to be exact.”

  “Your friend sure loves them,” Ressa said, pointing at the wolf’s bloody maw.

  “Yes. The two-headed wolf has a great sense of smell. In fact, they can smell a cashmere rabbit from more than five miles off,” he replied.

  “The name’s Wort Folly, my lady,” the man said with a bow. “I am the royal hunter and one of the royal guards.”

  “So you work directly with Ezra Thorn?” she asked.

  “Yes, from time to time. They call me in when they need special help during a hunt.”

  Ressa was strangely unsettled by the mention of the hunt.

  “Can I take you back in, my lady?” Wort offered, piercing her with his eyes.

  “No, no, I’m good. Thank you. I’ll make it in myself. Prince Cavel must be looking for me now.”

  “I’m sure he is,” Wort said and smiled.

  There was something about Wort’s smile and his words that caused a chill to run down Ressa’s spine.

  She turned and walked away in the direction of the royal hall. She took one last look at the growling wolf who watched her every move. Then she turned and bumped into Ezra. Ressa inspected his coat. To her astonishment and great sadness she noticed he was no longer wearing the red sash he had worn during their dance.

  Ezra had caught sight of her interaction with Wort and had swooped in like a hawk trying to defend its young. Ressa averted her gaze from Ezra and rushed past him without a word.

  Careful to make her way to the back of the hall without him or Wort seeing her face, Ressa hid the severed cashmere rabbit foot she’d stolen from Wort’s hand. This will be the only thing dead tomorrow night, Ressa thought as she clutched the bloody foot in her hand.

  Now realizing the dripping blood was flowing between her fingers Ressa knew it was time to leave. It was time for her to make her exit. After all, she’d had enough merriment for one night and doubted the prince would miss her if she left. Before a single d
rop of blood could splash on the floor, she dashed towards the double doors to exit the great hall, being careful to avert her eyes from every stray gaze that glanced her way.

  ***

  The moment Ressa stormed out of the great hall Ezra turned on Wort, grabbing him by the shoulders and pinning him against the wall. “What on earth could you have done or said to scare the poor girl?”

  “Nothing, I swear it,” Wort said.

  “Was it your beast?” Ezra asked, staring down at Alabaster. Alabaster stared back at him with both heads baring their teeth.

  “I assure you that neither Alabaster nor I did anything to her, but you…” A smile spread across Wort's wrinkled face. “Perhaps it was you who scared the poor girl off.”

  “What are you getting at?” Ezra snarled.

  “Come now, commander, everyone has seen the way you two danced tonight with your arm wrapped tightly around her waist. How are you so sure it wasn’t you who scared her off?”

  “You’re flaming mad.”

  “Am I? She is your cousin’s betrothed after all and, well, you two were awfully close. Not a good look for a future queen.”

  Ezra’s face reddened with heat.

  “Could you have sent her the wrong message? Poor thing. She said the dance took a lot out of her. I bet it did,” Wort said.

  Ezra raised a fist to Wort’s face in anger but curtailed the urge to hit him the moment Wesley rushed into the garden. “Ezra, we must go. King Alvert has had enough for one night and wishes to retire to his chambers.”

  A smirk grew across Wort’s face.

  Ezra pulled back his hand and turned towards Wesley and the double doors, leaving Wort and Alabaster where he had found them.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The crescent-shaped moon glowed in a night sky speckled with stars and fumes of clouds. Ressa perched on the sill of one of the huge arched windows in her chambers and watched the moon.

  O, Father, I’m coming for you, she said to herself.