by C. A. Szarek
Don’t tell him one word. “I’m no’ sure ‘tis just a legend.” God’s blood, really? Where had his fortitude gone?
Silence reigned.
His brother’s eyes were so wide the whites showed around blue irises. “I need ta call Malcolm Beaton from Mother’s chambers.”
“What?” Alex croaked.
“Although, I’m no’ sure he can help. Does he examine heads? Tha insides, I mean. I think ye must’ve hit yers on somethin’.” His brother didn’t crack a smile until he finished speaking.
He threw a punch his twin dodged.
Duncan broke into a deep chuckle.
“Sod off,” Alex mumbled, but the laughter didn’t subside.
“Ah, come now. ‘Tis amusin’.”
“At my expense, as always.”
His expression sobered again. “Alex, yer worryin’ me somethin’ fierce. Why tha Fae? Why would ye think ‘tis anathin’ but an ol’ tale?”
“How did collectin’ the rents go?” he asked, needing a distraction.
“Nay. Ye dinna fool me like a laddie. Tell me what’s goin’ on.”
Alex took a breath and shook his head. “I need yer full accountin’ of what ye brought home. Beasties as well as coin.”
His brother narrowed his eyes. “Cormac already gave tha list ta Hamish. ‘Tis sittin’ right there, in front a’ ye.”
Alex’s gaze shot to where Duncan had pointed and heat exploded at the back of his neck, creeping upward. He shifted on his chair and avoided looking up. He was probably bright red and couldn’t remember the last time he’d blushed. That was the scroll he’d been reading and obviously not comprehending. “Thank ye,” he muttered.
“Alex MacLeod.” His name was full of warning.
Did he want to heed it?
“Ye dinna believe me if I tol’ ye.” His earlier thought fell out of his mouth at a whisper.
Duncan regarded him solemnly. Reclined in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Let me be tha judge a’ tha’.”
“I’m tryin’ ta decided if I’ve gone mad.”
His brother cocked his head to one side. “Go on...”
“I did meet a lass. I’ve no’ seen her fer a fortnight.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been askin’ myself tha’ every day. Did I dream her up?” The last part was a muse Alex hadn’t meant to say aloud.
His brother shifted, making his long hair dance. He didn’t speak; probably sensing Alex needed a moment to gather his thoughts, like he had since they were wee.
No one knew him better than Duncan.
He was closer to no one either, not even Janet or their father. If he confided in anyone about Alana, it made sense it was his twin. “I asked ye abou’ tha Fae because tha’s what—who—she is. I met a Fae Princess named Alana.”
* * * *
She’d dreamt of Alex. Dreams that consisted of long walks on the beach, conversations she’d never gotten the chance to have with him, and holding his hand.
Then there was the lovemaking. Of course, he’d touched her when they’d last been together, but in her fantasy, he’d tasted and mapped every inch of her naked skin. She’d even ridden him while he’d guided her, held her and helped them both to completion.
Alana knew what his kiss was like, but her mind, her desires, had filled in the rest and she’d woken in bed a sweaty pulsing mess, so aroused she’d seared from it. The resulting disappointment crashing over her because it was just a dream made her sob.
Fae magic was vast and varied, and of course some got visions. Premonitions of the past, the future, even empathic insights when touching people.
She’d never had a vision.
Of all her magic, she’d not been graced by the Goddess with that power. So how could the dreams be more like memories that hadn’t happened?
The way Alex had kissed her, caressed her, taken her…it felt so real.
Even the pleasant ache at her core was what she’d imagined it would feel like when she was no longer a virgin.
She ached to see him again.
The risk is too great.
Besides, she’d have to figure out yet another way to access the Faery Stones. They were spelled against stealth magic, so she’d have to be even cleverer than before. An explosion in the woods wouldn’t work twice. When she’d done that, her invisibility spell had dissipated the moment she’d stepped onto the dais that held the Stones. No one could get closer under disguise.
Xander was still irritated with her.
Now she also had Seamus to contend with. Her cousin was angry about that, too.
It was all her fault.
Alana had a hard time keeping these logical, rational thoughts forefront in her brain. What she needed to do and what she wanted to do had vastly separated from each other.
“Alex…” she whispered.
She needed to forget the human laird and figure a way to keep the Irish prince away from her.
The problem was her heart wasn’t in that plan.
When she’d told her cousin she believed Alex was for her, it’d been the truth. Emotion smacked into her chest and spread wide, making her double over and grab her middle. She couldn’t forget Alex. It just wasn’t possible.
Could that confirm that they were indeed, fated?
“Alana, what’s wrong?”
Xander’s voice pulled her from her internal chaos.
She looked up to find him standing in the doorway of her sleeping room, a food tray in his strong grip. The covered bowl had steam wafting from it, but she was afraid to eat, even if her stomach was growling, and she did like a good morning porridge.
“I need to see Alex,” she blurted.
Her cousin entered the room sighing. He closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell, as if he’d taken a deep breath. He said a spellword, and the tray grew thick legs as he set it down over her lap and took a seat on the edge of her bed.
Alana would’ve teased him about being a handmaiden and bringing her sustenance to break her fast in bed, but she needed to prepare herself for the argument she’d rather avoid.
Keeping herself busy with food was a good plan for the time being, so she lifted the lid from her porridge and inhaled. The scent of roasted grains and honey hit her senses and she was able to smile.
She glanced over the plate next to the large bowl. There were a variety of sweets, all iced or buttered, and looking as good as the sweetwoods burning in her hearth smelled. “Hmmm. You’re spoiling me this morning.”
“Not me. Gwynna prepared your meal, and she…”
Alana grinned at the way Xander trailed off and averted his gaze. “Likes you,” she said. “She also knows since I’m being punished, Audra and Lenya aren’t caring for my needs. She probably figured she’d see you this lovely morn.” She hadn’t seen her two favorite handmaidens in almost a month.
Her cousin cleared his throat. “Aye, she’s fond of me.”
“Xander!” She giggled when he still wouldn’t look at her.
He wouldn’t confirm—he never did—but he must’ve taken the maid as a lover. Xander had always chided her that it wasn’t proper for them to discuss his bedmates, but her cousin was handsome and honorable. And…male. He no doubt ‘had needs’ like the men she’d dallied with always touted.
She suspected he didn’t sleep alone a lot. Besides, he was a bit of a hypocrite, because as her bodyguard, he had no choice but to know about her bedmates if and when she took a lover.
He’d known the men she’d dabbled with, but she’d never brought anyone back to her rooms anyway.
If Xander didn’t like the man, Fae noble or not, he wouldn’t get close to her. She hadn’t been involved with any man her cousin hadn’t approved of…except Alex.
Her heart slid to her stomach and her appetite slipped away, along with her amusement. She gripped her spoon so tightly her fingers protested. “I need to see him, Xander.”
The apple of his throat bobbed when their eyes met. He didn’t
speak.
“I know ‘tis foolish, and dangerous, and now even worse with Seamus involved, but…”
“You’ve been miserable.”
Alana startled. Hadn’t expected him to say that. “Aye, I have been.”
The stupid Irish prince still hadn’t clarified what he wanted from her, so she’d been on edge, as well, waiting for his promised torture.
King Ciaran had departed for his own lands the day after the feast, as had the majority of the members from the other Fae Courts, but Seamus remained in Scotland as her father’s honored guest.
Being confined had its merits. At least she hadn’t had to see him. Then again, without eyes on him, Alana didn’t know what he was up to, either.
Xander’s exhalation had her finding his gaze again.
“You’re not going to admonish me?” she whispered.
“There’s no use. You’ve said everything already. It is foolish. And more dangerous than it was before.”
“But?”
“I have an idea.”
“To…help me?”
“Aye, of course.”
She sputtered and set the spoon down. “‘Of course?’ After everything?” He’d been so angry with her. So against going to the Human Realm in the first place. Righteously so. He’d been lashed ten times. Had called her a fool when she’d been honest with how she felt about Alex, too.
Xander held her gaze, but she didn’t like that his expression was resigned more than supportive or eager. “Have I not always been there for you?”
“Aye, but—”
“Alana, if I do not help you, you will still pursue this on your own, is that not true?”
“Probably.” She pursed her lips so she wouldn’t give into a smile.
“I would rather know what’s going on than have to explain why I didn’t catch you sneaking around.”
Alana laughed—couldn’t help it.
Annoyance flashed in her cousin’s eyes.
She schooled her expression. “I’m sorry.”
“You are not!” he returned quickly, but one corner of his mouth shot up.
“So…what’s your idea?”
Chapter Nine
“You disguise yourself as a Warrior and we go on a ‘secret mission’.”
Alana blinked. “Really?”
Her cousin nodded as if he didn’t see or sense her shock.
“Since when do you, my rule-following bodyguard, my conscience most of the time, willingly break commands, orders…decrees?”
Xander smirked. “When I have a plan ‘twill work.”
She bit into a fruit pastry and moaned as the flavor burst in her mouth, then darted her tongue out to catch a renegade icing drop. “This is so good. I love Gwynna. If you haven’t taken her as a lover, you should.”
He cast his eyes to the ceiling. “So, you don’t want to hear my plan?”
Her heart skipped.
Alex.
“Of course I do.”
Xander launched into a tale of a faked proclamation and orders that wouldn’t be questioned by the wing of guards at the Faery Stones. They would tell them of their ‘secret mission’ and flash the scroll. Swear that the king and Captain Daegus had commanded silence from all with the knowledge of them crossing realms.
It would be easy enough to disguise Alana with a glamour spell. They could even make her appear as a winged Fae Warrior, but from one of the other Courts. She shouldn’t be required to speak but had a passable Irish accent if the need arose. The spell itself would make her sound male.
The fact it was common knowledge the Crown Prince of Ireland was still at Scottish Court would help their cause, really; allay thoughts of it being odd that there was an Irish Fae Warrior with Xander.
As her personal royal bodyguard, her cousin was privy to things his brethren were not—which also fed credibility to a clandestine assignation from the king.
Her mouth hung open when he stopped speaking.
Amusement darted across his face, and she gave a slight smile. Perhaps he’d forgiven her after all.
He tugged on his warrior braid and shook his head. “I have no idea why I’m mad enough to entertain this, honestly.”
“Because you love me.”
“Aye, unfortunately you’re right. I do.”
Alana arched an eyebrow. “Unfortunately?”
Xander gave her a long look and didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to. Their relationship caused him nothing but hardship lately—if not most of the time—and she loved him for staying by her side. Were he a lesser man, or Warrior, he could’ve asked for reassignment. But he’d vowed to protect her with his life, so perhaps pride in his word had made the decision for him.
Somehow, that idea hurt; she didn’t want that to be the root of his loyalty to her.
“Why are you…willing, Xander?” Teasing, blood ties, and worries aside, Alana wanted to know. He hadn’t believed her when she’d mentioned fate.
“I did some digging.”
“About what?”
“Your human’s many times removed Fae Princess grandmother.”
“And?” Her gut tightened and she fidgeted as she waited for him to explain. Her spoon tinged against the ceramic bowl, and despite the porridge’s thickness, it sloshed against its confines.
“Eirini knew of the tale, and directed me to the one scroll in the whole library with her name.”
“She was a princess, then?”
Her cousin nodded. “There was a reference to a Princess Sima being banished for unspeakable acts. Of course, the ‘crimes’ weren’t detailed with the punishments, a sure sign of royal embarrassment. It was a long time ago, about six hundred years. No one remains alive that could confirm or deny what little is there.”
“That’s it?” Alana’s pulse pounded in her temples.
“Well, you know how old Eirini likes to gossip. And, she’s very good at her duties.” He took a breath, and didn’t give her a chance to respond. “She found a few vague mentions about a rebel runaway princess from that time period. But she said her suspicions were confirmed on the royal name ledgers and family trees, because Princess Sima was wiped from all official records. There’s no mention or confirmation of her birthright. Odd, considering she was the heir, like you. To support this, she never rose to be queen. A prince—most likely Sima’s first cousin—ascended after who should’ve been noted as her father died. No record of any other children, so the throne went to the next blood relation in line.”
“She got pregnant and fled to be with her laird,” she whispered.
“So Eirini suspects.”
“She told you that? You didn’t tell her you were asking for me, did you?”
Xander flashed another smirk. “I didn’t. But she knows your fascination with Fae history well enough, so even if she guessed I was researching for you, she wouldn’t go anywhere of import with that knowledge. She does miss you, though. Told me to tell you to come see her.”
Alana smiled. The librarian had always proved discreet before. “So, you believe Alex’s clan legend is true?”
“There is merit in what I discovered. And you said he feels magic. Evidently even diluted Fae blood means something.”
She blew out a breath. “If that’s what’s happening. I just know…” she swallowed, “what I feel.” She put her hand over her heart.
Her cousin offered a curt nod.
“Do you…believe me, Xander? Do you believe Alex is my fate?”
He sighed. “I don’t know, Alana.”
Sadness rolled over her, but she’d have to accept what he could offer…for now. “You’ll take me to see him?” she asked, voice just above a whisper.
Xander sighed again. “Aye, I suppose I will.”
She tried to tamp down her excitement, but busied her hands by moving the tray from her lap and throwing her arms around her cousin. “Thank you so much! You won’t regret it.”
He chuckled and patted her hands. “Calm yourself, Your Highness.
” He flattened his mouth when he looked at her. “I already regret it.”
Some of Alana’s joy dimmed. “Please don’t, Xander. If it were you, I would support you no matter what.”
Silence descended, but then he nodded. “I know you would. Which is why I’m doing this.”
“When do we go?”
Her cousin sighed for the third time and gestured with his hand. “When you’re ready.”
She screeched like a lassie, then slapped her hand over her mouth when Xander winced.
“Finish breaking your fast. I shall step out and make excuses to Rannick as to why I’m escorting you from your rooms.”
“Father said I could go out,” she reminded him.
“Aye, but your movements are to be restricted and recorded, so we have to tell him something credible.”
She rolled her eyes. “The market?”
Xander nodded. “That should suffice. There’ll be enough people there you wouldn’t necessarily be spotted easily if anyone is questioned about seeing you. Just have an excuse prepared for why you failed to purchase anything.”
Alana giggled. “I’m the princess. I’m picky.”
He shook his head and she grinned.
She hadn’t seen him so normal with her since before their first journey to the Human Realm, and she wanted to cling to it. Alana had her cousin’s grudging support regarding the object of her desire, and she was going to take that for now, until she could convince her bodyguard Alex was her fate, and gain his true approval.
* * * *
Alex couldn’t give up his daily rides. So much so, he’d deigned to make them two times a day instead of just the early hours of the morn. He was now seeking the beach in the afternoon, too.
He couldn’t risk missing his princess, after all.
It’d been over three weeks since he’d seen her, but no amount of reminding himself time did nothing but creep forward would let him accept he wouldn’t see her again.
He refused to believe she was gone for good, even though defeat would settle low and dominate his body and mood alike when he went home emptyhanded each evening of his quest.
