by Terina Adams
The fragrance from the flowers lured me for a smell. A woman appeared beside me within moments. Her round girth told me she sold many of her flowers on nights like this. One of her eyes was missing and the other was partially covered by a milky film. “Perhaps your suitor would like to buy you a flower to wear in your hair?”
“Maybe he would if I had a suitor.”
“How is it a beautiful young woman such as yourself does not have a dozen suitors?”
I straightened from smelling the blue flowers tucked in a bundle in the middle of the bunch, losing my smile.
“You like the blue one.” She plucked one of the blue flowers from the rest and handed it to me. “Only a few sovereigns.”
Sophren appeared beside me. “Come on.”
Glad for the excuse, I fled with Sophren, leaving the woman holding her blue flower.
We ambled through the market with Sophren clutching her bottle of oil and Penris munching on a sweet pastry. Sophren giggled at Penris’s whispered words and I felt like an intruder. At some point, I looked behind to see we’d lost the other three men, but wrapped in each other, Sophren and Penris had not noticed. I slipped farther behind, more comfortable being by myself than towing along with a couple.
As they wandered on, I stopped at another stall, only mildly interested in what was on display. I took my time browsing without really seeing, and when I looked up, I saw him, standing to the side of the stall, outside of the flame light so that his dark outfit blended him with the night. My heartbeat ran wild flutters throughout my body.
He remained where he was, watching me, which left me with the choice to ignore him or approach him. Nighttime was not a time to meet with a man. I went to him all the same, because my body told me to. But it wasn’t just my body, although the heat blooming in my stomach, igniting as it spread, burned a trail of desire across my skin and down between my legs.
I left the safety of the flame-lit street, where there were dozens of people laughing and dancing, and went into the partial darkness, where there was only the two of us. Instead of waiting for me to reach him, Cerac backed away, fading farther into the night and from the security of the crowd, not that I feared him; he would’ve revealed his true nature if he was a cruel man with malicious intent. I feared myself and what I would allow myself to do.
Like a beacon, Cerac stopped and waited for me to hang myself on his dangled rope, the rope that was his allure.
“Can I give you something?” he said. He kept his voice low, but the words ran ribbons of fine silk across my neck and down between my breasts.
“I suppose.”
He brought a flower from under his cloak. I knew it was the blue flower by its scent.
“You’re watching me again.”
He broke some of the stem, then stepped closer and placed the rest in my hair. “I thought you knew by now that I would always watch you.”
His hand lingered, dusting across my cheek as he pulled it away, and I was wrapped in a scent of warm spices while my skin tingled with life. Now was the time to speak, not stare into the dark pools of his eyes, which were little more than imprints from the night shadows. I pushed out a breath to gain my mind.
“Haven’t you got better things to do with your night? Isn’t there fun to be had at the castle with the courtiers? Wouldn’t that be more enjoyable than being amongst the peasants?”
“The king rarely feels inclined to invite me to many of his feasts. And when he does, I find them a bore. Besides, I do not trust you to go out alone at night since you’ve proven how much trouble you can get yourself in when the sun shines.”
“If I had more skill with a sword, I would be able to fight my own battles.”
“Is this you telling me off for being lax with your training?”
“You are both generous and perceptive.”
“Shall I steal you away tomorrow, after your day’s work?”
The word steal should not have sounded as good as it did.
“That will not give us much time to practice.”
“It will give us enough. Don’t think you will be able to keep your stamina for very long. That is something you must build with time.”
“I can meet you in the dining hall.”
A clandestine meeting. The idea ran ripples of excitement through my stomach, but this was soon overshadowed by a weighted sense of foreboding. Helna’s words haunted my mind. The king’s son and a servant—there was nowhere this friendship could go but tossed out onto the streets with nothing but what little clothes I owned.
Cerac cupped my chin and lifted my head so he could direct my eyes into his. “Why the frown all of a sudden?”
I moved my chin from his fingers, gently, to disguise my inner turmoil. “I hope I can get away.”
“I’ll make sure of it.”
“No, you can’t. Helna will become suspicious.”
“Of what?”
Only two words, but they held my shame and crashed me back to the ground. To be with Cerac, I would have to lie, and that lie would expand until it became unwieldy, and along the way, it would reveal the truth of my feelings, even though I refused to acknowledge them to myself right now. Already I saw Helna’s disappointment in my mind.
I stared up into his shadowed face, plunged deep in mystery by the night’s blanket. Of what? Did he really have to ask? “She would disapprove of my learning to fight.”
“Of course she would.” I heard the humor in his voice, caught the curve of his lip at the corner on the cheek closest to the flame light. His silent taunt wanted the truth of what was really on my mind, or should I say heart.
Cerac held out his hand, palm facing up. “There is nowhere you will find such enticing music.”
The lightness in his voice and sudden switch made me laugh. “You don’t want me to dance, surely?”
“Something tells me you will enjoy the experience.”
“I don’t know how to dance like you do.”
“You can’t say that. You don’t know how I dance.”
He bowed, but his hand remained waiting for mine. I joined our hands and he pulled me close until our bodies almost touched. A faint dusting of his breath reached my face and I parted my lips to suck it in, like I could suck him in to swirl around on my tongue and savior. The indecency of what he did sparked delicious thrills, spearing down to my groin, the feeling addictive, weakening any restraint I should feel toward us. “Are you usually supposed to dance this close?”
“Only on special occasions.”
“What sort of special occasions?”
“Like now.”
My breath hitched. And he would’ve heard it. The effect of his words swam around in deep, secretive places.
“Relax and follow my lead.”
“I’m not good at following.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
He guided me slowly through some simple moves that were out of time with the music played over by the fountain, but it was magically in our own time. I closed my ears to the external rhythm and focused on Cerac and my heartbeat, the gentle strength in his guidance and his lips, where I found a lingering smile. Soon I forgot that we were supposed to be dancing, and I forgot to care if anyone saw. I forgot about everything except the man opposite me. Somehow I moved the way he wanted me to, our footsteps and then our bodies moving in sync.
Cerac wound me closer. I went to him, all resistance swept aside. Then suddenly his hand gripped my wrist and he yanked me back farther into the shadows.
“Cerac, what—”
His hand covered my mouth. “Shhh.”
I twisted my head to look up at him, and he freed my mouth, his attention focused elsewhere. My eyes traveled in the direction he faced and I saw Hunrus parting the crowd as he strode through.
17
“What is he doing here?” Cerac hissed as he pushed me behind him.
“Maybe he is looking for you?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I am beneath my brothe
r’s concern.” Bitterness tainted his voice to acid. “Hunrus would never lower himself to come amongst the peasants unless he sees an advantage for himself.”
I pulled on Cerac’s arm. “You must go, he’s come for you.”
Cerac turned to me, but his face was in darkness. “I slipped away from the palace while everyone was swept up in their own fun. I can’t believe he has followed me here.”
Why did I find it so hard to speak any words that alluded to us and what was beginning between us? “We are making this too easy for him.”
“I do everything I can to pretend I did not feel what I do for you when I am in his presence.”
Sweet lord, what did he just say? For a brief heartbeat, I was close to asking him what it was he felt, then I shook my head. Now was the worst time for those questions.
“And then all those other times. He is always watching us.” I knew I wasn’t wrong about the way Hunrus watched us. Cerac knew it too. The curiosity, then friendship that grew into a strange alchemy that made me want to stare at him all day, made my body tingle with life whenever we were close. These were the things I had hoped we were hiding from Hunrus.
We had better go. I will return you to the arena.” He grabbed my hand. “Come. I know a different way.”
Cerac led me farther into the darkness. The music faded as did the noise of the crowded square. Moving swiftly thought the dark cobbled streets with only the shell of the moon as our light felt illicit, the king’s son and the servant hiding away from the whispers and judgments of the people. When the soldier tied me to the back of the wagon, I never dreamed I would do something as careless and foolish as allow myself to feel something for someone so dangerous for me.
Dear, gentle Morick, who’d loved me with all his heart. I felt I had cheapened his memory by making such a mess of my life. I would’ve been his wife by now and perhaps carried his child in my belly. There would’ve been many more children to come, who I would have adored. And I would’ve always been good, always kind, always in love, always safe. Except that never happened because those were stories in legends, and now I was running through foreign streets with a man forbidden to me.
It wasn’t being bedded by royalty that made this so dangerous for me. A servant in the kitchen no one knew, but a lover to the king’s son was not hiding in the kitchen. I would be thrust into the vicious arena of the court. By Sophren’s admission, the king had taken many women, servants or otherwise, but none had made it to the throne. And the king would make sure none would ever tarnish the lineage of the crown. He would crush me to hurt Cerac, and there was little Cerac could do about it.
My face felt flushed. I wiped a small bead of sweat from my top lip.
“We’ll make it,” Cerac said, as if sensing my nerves.
“I trust you,” I panted back.
A faint glimmer of light shone from the bottom of his shirt sleeve. “Cerac, your mark.”
He shuddered to a halt and I bumped into his elbow. Cerac dropped my hand and pulled up his sleeve, enough to see the mark, which glowed a deep gold. “I’m on edge. This happens when my emotions get the better of me.”
The moment felt strangely intimate. I’d grown up with the mark as a symbol of shame. Marked children knew to hide their mark, to stay on the fringes of life so they would not be discovered. To share the mark with another showed deep trust. But this was stupid of me. In Cerac’s world, the mark was coveted, at least by the most important person, the king. Cerac’s mark had saved him from death, given him a privileged life. Showing me the mark aglow would not mean the same to him as it meant to me.
“Look, if being with me is going to—”
He spun quick, his finger against my lips. “Stop.” He leaned down. “We don’t need to go there,” he whispered.
And then he was pulling me by the hand again, weaving me down more streets. If he didn’t care for me as much as he seemed, he would not go to such trouble to protect me. I told myself these words as we moved along in silence. If only I could say them and know them to be true. But Cerac barely knew me, nor me him. How long would it take before his feelings toward me crumbled?
By now I recognized the expanse of wall that surrounded the arena. I had not noticed that we’d arched back on our tracks and were heading in the right direction. The musicians continued their lively beat by the fountain and the distant noise of chatter meant the crowd had not dispersed for the night.
“It’s not far now,” Cerac said.
Hopefully Sophren’s night was as good as she’d planned it to be. Mine had held so much promise, but now I was forced to face the reality of what I was doing in accepting the attentions of Cerac.
At the arena, Cerac took both my hands in his but stayed silent. He’d chosen a place back from the torch flames, bracketed on the wall either side of the entrance to the servants’ quarters.
“I’d planned a different outcome to tonight than this.”
Did I dare ask how he wanted the night to unfold?
“I hope you will still want your lessons.”
“Of course. Why would I have changed my mind?”
I should tell Cerac every thought in my head and fear in my heart, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
He sighed, stretching his head back to look at the sky. “If that is the case, you need a good night’s sleep.”
He dropped my hands and backed away, then backed away some more, but did not turn his back on me. And I remembered the last time someone special in my heart had backed away from me while holding my eyes with his.
I turned and hurried across the short distance under the light of the flaming torches and through the servants’ entrance, a swelling thickness in my throat.
At first the moonlight guided me down the empty passage, but farther along and I was plunged into darkness, for the torches had been extinguished in their brackets, and I’d not thought to take my candle or flint as I’d expected to return with Sophren and not on my own. I slowed as I ran my hand along the wall for guidance, making my way with care around the corners and along the passages. I’d traveled this way enough times to know how to navigate my way back to my room with confidence.
I found my bedroom door ajar. With Sophren rushing me down the passage earlier this evening, babbling her excitement and swelling my own, I couldn’t remember if I’d closed it properly when I left.
The darkness amplified the creaks of the hinges, which echoed down the hall as I pushed the door open. I inched inside, my arms outstretched in case I missed my bed and hit the wall. Judging I’d crossed the room far enough, I bent, waving my hand in the air until I found the edge of my bed, and eased myself to sitting. I wouldn’t bother changing into my nightshirt tonight.
I climbed under my blanket and lay facing the ceiling with my mind racing on too many thoughts to allow any sleep. My body felt like it had that day in the forest with the wolf. It felt tense and agitated, unable or unwilling to relax. But now I was in bed there was no point in getting up again, which was something I would’ve done back home if I’d had trouble sleeping.
I exhaled deep and inhaled again. With the long indrawn breath, an unfamiliar smell rushed in. It took me moments more before I realized I could smell something that wasn’t dusty, moldy or dank. It was a tantalizing smell, cinnamon, sandalwood with a faint trace of sweat.
I sat up in bed, my senses suddenly attuned to the darkness. Had Cerac come into my room? When? After we’d left for market, maybe he’d come to take me himself. But that was not his scent tonight. Or was it? I couldn’t remember.
A flint caught a light from the wall across from my bed. The sudden flare illuminated a man’s figure, his back to me, obscuring his face. Cerac. Sweet lord, he was here in my room. But how had he done that? This couldn’t be.
I was about to call his name when he turned around, holding a candle to his face. It wasn’t Cerac. It was his brother, Hunrus.
I pulled my blanket up high and shuffled backward until I was pressed against the wall. H
unrus loomed toward me, the candlelight held at his chest, throwing shadows under his chin, nose and in the hollow dips around his eyes, creating the macabre even out of something as handsome as his face. He reminded me of the images on the tapestries on Cerac’s wall, not because he was a monster to look at but because I believed he was a monster in his heart.
He sat on my bed and placed the candle on the edge, then stared at me. No expression revealed his thoughts. His eyes roamed over my face and down the bare skin on my neck. My fingers scrunched the blanket as high as it would go now he weighed it down.
“I admit to astonishment at seeing my brother’s favor of such a plain girl.” He said brother like you would when you called the wraiths’ cursed name. “Or rather, I thought that at first, but you’ve grown rather comely over this last moon.” My sleeve had ridden up and he ran his finger along the exposed skin to my elbow. I kept it in place, not willing to give him the pleasure of seeing me jerk away. “A woman’s generous flesh can be a tempting treat, gives you something to hold on to while you pound her into the headboards.”
And that would be the only way he knew how to take a woman.
His fingers wrapped my wrist in a vise grip as he ripped my arm from the blanket and pulled it toward him. He lowered and ran his nose along the inside of my wrist. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth, fighting against the alluring vision of punching him in the side of the face.
“How well would you favor me? I’m the crown prince, after all, and Cerac is the bastard son, only good for holding the swords when the warriors enter the ring.”
I’d seen his tally marks on the wall below the tapestry in his private chamber, the many dozens of tallies that marked all the times he’d won. It seemed to me he was the one who needed someone holding his sword.
Hunrus looked up into my eyes. Our proximity made avoiding his alcohol-laced breath impossible. I glared back at him. It was my only defense. I’d seen the violent behavior of any who loved to drink.
“Not so easily broken, I see. Maybe that is your allure.”
