“And you don’t feel that something about me?”
“You’re obviously not going to kill me.” She rolled her eyes. “If someone wished me dead, you would be overkill. Someone far less skilled could easily end my life, but if swordsmanship defined whether I should speak to a man, I would be in a convent already.”
I stared at her, mouth parted at her boldness, then a laugh burst from me. A real one—one that only Bastian had ever heard. And rarely. It shook through my chest, rumbling. “Perhaps you should consider giving yourself to the gods. Running your mouth like that will get you in trouble here.”
“Hmm.” She shifted on the bench. “They would make me cut my hair though, and I rather like it long. Plus I’ve never been religious.”
“Neither have I.” Sitting on the far end of the bench, I left plenty of space between us. “But never say that. Not when you’re visiting court.”
She picked at her skirts. “So many rules.”
Perhaps she should use me to get herself out of here. Create a false scandal. Return to whatever country estate her family owned and marry a lesser lord. Or… I could use her inexperience to my advantage. Recruit her as my own spy. “Tell me,” I said carefully. “How old are you?”
“Twenty.”
“And you’re hoping to be a lady’s maid?”
She scoffed. “I am not.”
“Oh?” I chuckled. “Do you have better prospects to consider?”
Karina glanced at me. “I suppose that depends on your definition of better.”
A good answer. “If not a life at the convent and not a life serving the crown, what is it you want, then?”
She shook a finger at me. “That sounds like a dangerous question. Perhaps my mother was right about her third warning regarding you.”
“Third?” I tilted my head and watched her from the corner of my eyes. What were the first two?
“She said that you see too much,” she whispered conspiratorially.
“Is there something you don’t want me to see?” I studied her, watched her tense, squeeze her hands into fists. There was—she had a secret. A lover left behind, perhaps. She wouldn’t be the first lady to pine for a man they were forced to leave behind. The thought rankled me. “Keep your secret, my lady. I’m sure they pose no threat to the prince and that’s all I’m concerned with.”
“Why aren’t you with him, then?”
“Because I defeated the King’s Wings,” I reminded simply.
“And the prince…?” She bit her lip and peeked at me from the corner of her eyes. “What’s he like?”
The prince. Was that why she came back? Not to see me but to learn about Bastian? It wasn’t that shocking. That didn’t stop the jealousy from pricking my insides.
“He’s a respectable man,” I offered. “Generous, good-natured, and women seem to find him handsome. One day, he’ll make a great king.”
Karina nodded, glancing away. It bothered her. Why? No part of that was disappointing, unless she was looking for something more personal. I wouldn’t give that information to anyone, let alone a strange, mysterious girl.
“Some advice?” I asked. “Train your expressions.”
“Yes, yes. I’ve already heard that my face will get me in as much trouble as my mouth,” she mumbled.
The dejected look she wore now made me regret saying anything. Who was I to snuff out the light radiating from inside her? If she’d managed to hold onto it for two decades, perhaps the court wouldn’t beat every ounce of it into the dirt. I reached out, lifting a lock of her hair before I realized what I was doing. As soon as I felt the softness against my skin, I lost track of rational thought.
What would it feel like against other parts of my body? Skimming over my chest while she rode me? Wrapped around my hand as I sunk into her from behind? “I like your hair too,” I said in a low voice, letting the soft strands slip through my fingers.
Karina stood, giving a small curtsy, face burning red. “I should return before they notice I’m gone.”
Had she seen the lust on my face? Felt the same tension between us that I’d felt? The inexplicable pull. Fuck. I had to get it together and remember who I was—what I was. “You shouldn’t come here again.” I gave her a half-hearted smile. “Not that I mind, but it’s asking for trouble.”
“I’ve never minded a little trouble,” Karina whispered. Then she left, leaving me there to consider our interaction. To wonder why I claimed not to mind her visits. And why it was the truth.
✽✽✽
When Bastian left the morning meeting, he went straight for the archives. He’d said nothing, not to me nor the caretakers when they asked if he needed assistance. A tightness had lined his otherwise gentle features as he searched for the books alone. It still remained, all these hours later.
I grew tired of watching him flip through pages and turned my attention out the window. The coolness of the glass soaked through my sleeve where I pressed against it, settled onto a padded bench that was boxed in with shelves where I could still see the prince in my peripheral. The smooth stone wall that surrounded the Main Palace blocked the view except for the corner of some hedges around the garden. Perhaps I shouldn’t return to my secret nook for a while. It seemed wise to avoid Karina in case she foolishly decided to sneak away again.
Or use her for information.
Why didn’t I want to? It was a golden opportunity. But she’d made me feel things I’d never felt before. Almost hopeful, though the realist in me knew better. It was a simple infatuation—nothing more. And yet…
“You look as happy as I feel today,” Bastian said, breaking his silence.
I twisted, putting the garden and the Main Palace behind me, and crossed my arms. “You’re speaking to me now?”
Bastian glanced up from his stack of research. “I wasn’t not speaking to you. I was busy thinking about something the governors’ decided today.”
“What is it this time?” I asked, weary.
Bastian looked around the large, dimly lit room. “Not here.”
“That bad, huh?” I stood and stretched, cracking my back. “It’s getting late. Are you joining your father for dinner?”
“Not tonight.” He shut the book in front of him and rubbed his eyes.
I hesitated, waiting for Bastian to move onto the next volume, but when he didn’t, I motioned to a caretaker. If I waited on the prince to call for someone himself, we’d never leave. Not when he was in a mood to research.
The man that scurried over wore a red belt cinched at the waist of his brown robes, identifying him as the head caretaker. He bowed, gaze down, speaking to the floor. “Do you need assistance, Your Highness?”
“He’s finished,” I answered for him. “If you could put these away for us?”
Bastian sat up straighter, setting his palms on the mess of papers. “I should keep going.”
“No, you should eat,” I insisted. “And don’t tell me you’re not hungry.”
“Fine.” Bastian leaned back in his chair and waved the caretaker forward. “We’ll come back later.”
Not if I can help it. “After you.”
“Look at you, bossing me around in front of people,” he joked as we made our way outside.
I snorted. “I dare them to say something to your father.”
Bastian grinned, elbowing me hard in the side. I scowled, knowing he was aware that I couldn’t strike back. Not until we were safely alone in his private rooms.
“Please have someone deliver two servings of dinner,” Bastian told the guard standing at the gate of the Prince’s Palace.
The prince stopped just outside his private residence and waited between two other guards while I did a quick sweep of the interior. The tall windows were shut, dark blue curtains drawn back with gold ties, and someone had reset our chess game from earlier. A handful of steps took me to the doorway from the sitting area to his bedroom. The four posts of his bed jutted up toward the ceiling and the cream bedding was perfectly made. No one wa
s beneath it, nor were they hiding inside the large armoire. The small private bathing chamber with its round copper tub was also free of threats.
“Okay,” I called. “It’s clear.”
Bastian dismissed the guards at the door and joined me inside. The second the doors shut behind us, I slapped the center of his back.
“Ah!” He leapt sideways, arching his back. “Asshole.”
I shrugged. “You started it.”
“You’re still an asshole.”
I grinned and sunk into a soft, velvet chair. “Someone has to keep your ego in check.”
“Who’s going to check yours?” he grumbled.
“Please find someone to give me a decent fight.” I loosened my bracers and shifted to pull the sword from my hip, propping the scabbard against the arm of the chair. “What was the research for this time?”
He scratched beneath the braids holding his crown in place. “Taxes. The Governor of the People insisted they need to be lowered or citizens will starve this winter.”
“And the others decided to raise them?” I asked, though it wasn’t really a question.
“I’m trying to find an alternative.”
Yes, then. Because of course they did. The governors didn’t give two shits about the citizens.
“If we cut a few other expenses, it could be avoided, but they’re not going to be happy about the options.” Bastian sighed and sat down across from me, glaring. “But enough about that. What’s gotten under your skin today?”
I shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re a fucking liar,” he said with a laugh. “Someone giving you a hard time? I saw Duchess Fransabelle in the Main Palace today.”
Ugh. The Duchess was as hard as they came. If I had a smudge of dirt on me as a child, she raised hell. It didn’t matter if I was coming from training or not. And if I so much as spoke in the wrong tone of voice, I got a smack on the back of the head. Beneath that though, she was sweet. Sneaking us sugared candy and telling us stories. She was something like a part-time mother when she visited the palace to both Bastian and I.
“Thank the gods, no.” I needed my hair trimmed and probably a shave if I was going to see the duchess. A quick glance down told me I needed to order a new jerkin too. The leather was comfortably worn, but that only meant she wouldn’t approve.
“Then what?” Bastian pressed. “Don’t lie. I can tell the difference between your normal sullenness and when something is on your mind. You look like you did when the commander banned you permanently from training with his troops.”
My scowl deepened. I was fourteen and the permanent ban only lasted a week before King Edric demanded I return. Not because I was sulking, of course, but because I needed to learn how to defend his son. Besides, it wasn’t my fault the crossbow misfired. The bolt didn’t even hit anyone. “Why did they make me your Wing again?” I grumbled.
“Because you were the cutest little two-year-old lord they ever saw?”
I huffed. “Fuck you.”
“Spill.”
“I…” Ah, damn. “There was a woman in the garden today.”
Bastian’s eyes widened. “A woman?”
“Fuck. Yes, Bast.” Groaning, I rubbed my sweaty palms against my knees. “A very pretty noblewoman, in fact. And she didn’t run away screaming.” Because she wanted to know about you. I hung my head. “Shit.”
“You could—”
“No,” I said, cutting him off. False hope wouldn’t do me any good. It was best if I accepted my limitations with women and drove Karina from my head completely. “Don’t encourage anything. We both know I can’t.”
Bastian was quiet for a long moment. I felt him staring at me, disappointment radiating off him. “Saer… I’m sorry.”
Me too. It was the price I had to pay to be his Wing—the price I deserved to pay for being an Aster. I didn’t want my friend’s pity nor did I deserve it. “Don’t be.”
“If it wasn’t for me, you—”
A knock came at the door, saving me from the rest of the conversation. I slid to my feet, lifting my sheathed sword in case it wasn’t our dinner. It was, though. A servant girl gave a small bob of her head while holding what had to be a very heavy tray. I stepped aside to allow her entrance. The smell of roast meat, savory gravy, and tangy fruit followed her through the door. Once she set the tray on the small dining table in the corner, the servant backed from the room while maintaining a bow.
“Let’s eat,” I grumbled.
Bastian moved to the table and lifted the lid off his plate, motioning for me to do the same. My stomach was in knots thinking of Karina. The way the sun caught the golden tones of her hair, the mischievous glint in her eyes when she joked, the scent of her. But it would do no good to torture myself. I had to forget her, not because I wanted to, but because I needed to. So I willed away the image of her beautiful face. Then I sat and I ate. And neither of us spoke about taxes or women again for the rest of the night.
Chapter Five
The fact that two lady’s maids in white and blue uniformed dresses were buzzing around the gardens should’ve made it obvious that Karina was nearby. And yet, when I slipped into my private little corner to find her already there, words failed me. How did she keep sneaking away like this without getting caught? Even I didn’t tempt fate this much.
“Are you haunting me?” I asked in greeting.
Karina jumped at the sound of my voice, but a smile quickly spread over her face. She shifted down to the far end of the bench, leaving plenty of space for me to join her. Sapphires adorned her arms and the bodice of her bronze gown. Her hair fell, loose, with three strands of matching gemstones looped across the back of her head. A splash of bronze covered her eyelids, making the golden hues more prominent.
“I wasn’t sure what time you usually came,” she said when I didn’t immediately sit down. “You were already here when I came before, so I had to guess.”
I sighed, resigned, and sat at the very edge of the bench. “I escort Prince Bastian to the Main Palace in the morning and, when the weather’s decent, come here to wait.”
“This is decent weather?” she asked.
My eyes wandered down her body before I could stop myself, and I noticed her goosebumps for the first time. “You would likely agree if you’d taken your cloak when you snuck out.”
“They confiscated it to try and dissuade my excursions,” she mumbled, rubbing her arms.
If I had worn my cloak, I would’ve been tempted to wrap it around her. Even if it was for the few minutes she stayed. But my jerkin, the tunic beneath, and the leather spalders covering my shoulders kept me comfortable. In another month, I would need to wear more layers, but now, it was just warm enough that I didn’t sweat the moment I stepped out the door.
“I see their plan is working,” I said with a grin.
She shrugged, sapphires clacking against each other on her upper arms, and looked down at her lap. “As it turns out, I’m not very good at being a proper lady.”
“I’ve met plenty of proper ladies. They’re exhausting.”
“But they’re safe at court,” she mumbled—a distinctively unladylike action.
I shrugged with one shoulder, not having the heart to tell her she was right. “No one is ever completely safe.”
“You are.”
“Me?” I laughed. “My job is to take a blade for a prince universally hated outside of these walls. And inside them, everyone hates me. I’m surprised I made it to adulthood.” And that wasn’t counting any of my Aster dealings. That easily doubled my chances of being murdered.
“The way everyone talks about you, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You’re practically a legend.” She glanced at my sword. “They’re only afraid of you because they don’t know you.”
I snorted. “If they knew me, I think they would be more afraid.”
“I don’t.” She studied me, her tone and gaze serious.
Her
words twisted inside me, squeezing the permanent ball of guilt I kept locked away. I deserved the hate and sideways glances. The distrust. The wariness. Nobles didn’t know the real reason I shouldn’t be trusted, but they were right about me nevertheless. “You don’t know me either,” I whispered. “Just because I haven’t told your ladies where to find you or tried to kill you for interrupting my private mornings doesn’t mean I’m not a monster.”
“You’re determined to believe that.” Karina took a deep breath. “Nothing I say will make you believe me, but that doesn’t make me wrong.”
I gave a small hmm in response. Neither of us would be changing our minds today so, instead, we sat in oddly comfortable silence for a handful of minutes. Before now, I hadn’t thought that was possible. Bastian and I spent plenty of time together without speaking, but I’d never experienced it with anyone else. It was… nice.
“Can I try that on?” Karina asked.
I jumped at the sudden question, having been too lost in the comfort of the moment, and my hand went straight for my hilt. “Try what on?”
“This.” Her fingertips landed softly on my bracer.
My eyes slid between hers and the thick leather protecting my forearm. Metal studs held the black cowhide to the softer material beneath. “Why?”
“Why not?” she countered.
I slowly unbuckled my right bracer and slid it off. Despite the long sleeve of my tunic, the cool air immediately prickled the skin that the extra layer had kept warm. “Give me your arm.”
Karina twisted toward me to offer her right arm. I wrapped the bracer around her slender wrist and fit the straps back through the buckles. Though my fingers never once grazed her skin, they tingled as though they had. Would she be as soft as I imagined? Unlike the pads of my fingers that were rough from years with a bow. I hurried with the buckles and pulled my hands away to grip the edge of the bench.
“It’s heavy,” she said, flexing her fingers. The straps were as tight as I could make them but the bracer was still too loose on her. She twisted her wrist and it slid halfway down her hand. After quickly adjusting it to her forearm again, she slammed the side of her hand down on top of it.
The Prince's Wing Page 3
