“You said your castle was protected.”
“When they march onto my lands, they will start to attack the protective enchantments that surround the castle, and if they succeed in breaching any one of them, they’ll only need a window.”
“I see. Plus, you want me to get away from Roland as soon as possible and return here so I can have my long overdue reunion with my mother. I know what you’re trying to say, Malachi. I will return to you when I am able.”
“I’m going to hold you to your word, Belle.”
She laughed.
“We have been stalling for far too long. Ardal is no doubt climbing the castle walls,” Annabelle mused.
“Ardal will be able to transport both of you to the grounds that are outside of my protection. This way, the scent of my magic will not be lingering on you.”
“What about the scent of Ardal’s magic?”
“His magic is unscented.” He grabbed her hands, and held them firmly. She could tell he didn’t want to release them, because when he did, he would be releasing her. The thoughts of her venturing into the unknown terrified her just as much as it terrified him.
“I will be cautious. Don’t be afraid for me,” she whispered.
“I can’t help it. I’m afraid for everyone that I love—the only one I’m not afraid for is myself,” he chuckled dryly. “Just know that I will be watching over you.”
“My own personal real live guardian angel.”
“Guardian, aye. To the death.”
She wrapped her arms around him. They held each other for a few minutes. “Together, we can do anything. Farewell, Malachi.”
Ardal ventured discreetly into the room. Their eyes connected, and he read her intentions, and understood them. Nodding his head, she felt that same sensation she always experienced when she was being magically transported. When she opened her eyes, she stood outside, bathed in moonlight.
Torches lined the road they stood on. She looked down at the gravel beneath her feet. She wore a cloak, clasped by the brooch that Malachi had conjured for her, and yet she still felt the night chill. She could also still feel the lingering sensation of Malachi’s touch. Her heart ached.
“You must empty your head of all fond thoughts of Malachi. At least for now. I will not take any chances, until I can measure how well Blackburn and Roland are able to read you.”
She nodded her head. “Thank you for your guidance.”
“My pleasure, Lady Markham…although from here on in, I do think I should call you Lady Annabelle.” They exchanged a mutual smile.
“How long do you think it will take for my father to come for me?”
“I could take us there…but then, he would not believe that I am just a lowly yet loyal servant. I should think he would be arriving momentarily. He’s probably just been waiting for this chance. At first, he will think he is taking you—you must make it quite clear to him that you are coming to him. This will inflate his ego…and it will hopefully touch his heart—if such a thing is possible.” Ardal looked furtively around him. “Shush, they approach. Be brave, Princess.”
She was about to answer him, when a dark cloud whispered around them. Slowly, the cloud parted to reveal three figures. Her heart froze. She knew which one was Roland before he even looked at her. She felt as if she knew him already. They had the same eyes. Panic struck her…it slowly ebbed away, as she tried to relax.
“My daughter…do not be afraid. I am here to take you away—”
“Thank the Fates.” To her surprise, her voice remained steady. She hid her hands in her cloak because she knew they would betray her. Nervousness rolled through her in unrelenting waves.
“I’m sorry?” He looked perplexed. The man at his side stepped toward her. She instinctively stepped back.
“My Lord Blackburn, you mustn’t frighten her. She already looks scared half to death!” A female voice cautioned.
“Indeed, Blackburn. You will stand down,” Roland ordered.
“I am only trying to help you out, Sire.”
“I don’t need your help when it comes to my daughter. You must cease your paranoia. She is not here to hurt me.”
Her heart raced. “Indeed, I am not. I am here seeking sanctuary. I need sanctuary. I am so frightened.”
“You want sanctuary with me?” Disbelief and pleasure mingled in Roland’s voice.
“Why?” Blackburn sneered, sizing her up with his coal coloured eyes.
“Because my husband is a beast. He forced me into marriage, and he forced me into a great many other things. I have escaped him, whilst he was away. I know he will be coming after me…I have no one else to turn to. I need you, Father.”
Roland stepped toward her. Her breath hitched in her throat. He was shorter than Malachi but broader through. He didn’t look as evil as she knew he was. The soft look in his eyes, nearly made her forget to breathe. He didn’t look like the sort to give her up. If only—she snapped her eyes shut and then flickered them open. She had to focus.
“I will make him pay for any of the pain he might have caused you.” Roland took another step toward her. He was testing her to see if she would draw away. She held her ground. He looked at Ardal. “Who is this?” Roland demanded.
“This is my faithful servant, Ardal Wallace.” She made up the surname, knowing he would expect one. “He is marked with magic, while his abilities are measly in comparison to yours and Blackburn’s. As such, he is deeply loyal to me. When he discovered what Malachi had done to me, he insisted we escape.”
“She is speaking the truth, Sire. She is no longer a maiden.” The woman spoke with disappointment in her voice.
“Damn him, for hurting you. I am told you are called Annabelle. You were named wisely. You are the most beautiful woman in all of the kingdoms. You look like your mother—and you have my mother’s eyes…and as it happens, my eyes as well. Aye, you are my daughter.” In the next moment, he engulfed her in a suffocating embrace. Her face was smashed against his chest. Annabelle had to turn her head in order to breathe. She shivered…luckily he mistook her shiver for chilliness. “We will return to Dunsmuir Castle immediately. You are cold. I will not have you catching your death on top of everything else that you’ve been subjected to over the past few days.
She forced a smile to crease her face. How could she tell him that she had already caught her own death? He would not react kindly to that if only he knew. For now, she would make sure he didn’t discover that particular weakness. He had to believe she was a hearty and hale child, if not a little battle scarred. She hadn’t meant to make them think that Malachi had raped her—but if it convinced them, then she would allow them to believe what they wanted to.
With his arm still wrapped around her shoulder, he beckoned to Blackburn and the woman. The voice sounded scratchy but she had heard it before. She studied the woman closely. She wore black, and her hair looked like it matched her gown. She shivered again.
“We must away now! She needs a nice warm fire, and by the feel of it, some food.” Her stomach dropped. He sounded so concerned for her, so protective of her. Why did he have to be—before she could finish her thought, she caught Blackburn watching her.
“Your Highness.” He bowed to her. Her blood ran cold.
“Grab the servant, and we will be off,” Roland commanded. He looked like he was the one in charge. He didn’t seem to be taking any orders from Blackburn.
Curious.
“I would like to know how you found out that I was your father,” Roland whispered in her ear, making her shiver again. “I only discovered you existed a few years ago. Since that day, I have been fighting to find you.”
She felt clammy all over. The day had finally taken its toll on her. Weakness seeped through her body. Maybe Roland was right—maybe she did need food. She fought to stay awake. She could feel her muscles growing heavy. She knew she needed one of Ardal’s potions.
“Annabelle? What is the matter?” Roland asked almost gently.
“She looks like she is having a fainting fit, Sire.” As the woman spoke her last words, she felt herself drifting away. “Or, the Beast caused her more harm than we originally thought.” Hearing those words, Annabelle drifted away into blackness.
*****
“No. Annabelle!” Malachi cried. The limp image of Annabelle’s body swirled into the mists. Gabriel’s worried visage stared back at him.
“You must not act in haste. She has only passed out. She is tired and weak. She requires her daily dose of potion. We should have made sure she took it before she left, we were not thinking.” Gabriel shook his head.
Malachi paced the room. “I want to see her!”
“You will not want to see her for a few minutes. You will not be able to take the sight of Roland coddling her.”
“Coddling her. He must be putting on a show. He is a cold hearted bastard.”
“How certain are you of that? He did not give you those scars.”
“He is a war mongering fool! He wants to rule over Thaliana!”
“Or, he only used that as a pretense so he could invade Thaliana and seek out Annabelle.”
“Whose bloody side are you on, anyway?” Malachi demanded, turning to stare at Gabriel.
“Your side. You know that, Malachi. I would never waver in my loyalty to you. But you are not a father. I was—in my life. To be faced with losing a child—the pain is severe. It can change a person…it can damage a soul and a heart.”
“I will not be able to protect her if she does start to love him as her father.”
“I know you won’t. But I don’t think you will have to worry about protecting her. Right now, Roland is out for your blood. This isn’t Blackburn coming for you this time—Roland will come for you, unless of course she changes his mind about you being her rapist. If she doesn’t…he will find a way to hurt you where it counts.”
“My siblings.”
“Aye. He will use one of them to get to you. He wants to make you suffer. He wants to make you pay.”
“Well, at least we both are on the same wavelength now.”
“Indeed. You need to sleep. The rest of the night will be uneventful for Annabelle. In her weakened state, Roland will not allow anyone to question her motives for being with him. Right now, he will only be concerned with waking her up.”
“Waking her up?”
“Yes. She doesn’t like to sleep now that she feels death is coming for her.”
“Death will not get her,” Malachi vowed, even though a fleeting fear stabbed his heart.
“I pray you are right,” Gabriel murmured.
Chapter Seventeen
A cold compress rested on her forehead. Annabelle groaned as she came to. Opening her eyes, she was met with the soft glow of candlelight.
“Sire, she is waking up.”
“I told you I was only giving her a healing potion. I would never poison my lady,” Ardal said.
She struggled to sit up, but collapsed wearily against the pillows when the pain in her head increased. She squinted. Panic ebbed into her being. Where were her spectacles?
“My spectacles…where are they?” she asked.
“They are on the table there. Do not fear.” She relaxed at the woman’s comforting words. “My name is Lady Katrina. You can call me Kat if you want.” Katrina smiled at her. Dark eyes the shade of onyx stared back at her. She looked down to see what she was laying on. She seemed to be on a day bed. “I have summoned a maid to bring some food up to you. You look half-starved.”
“I am. Lord Markham made sure we were deprived of food. It gave him some sort of sick satisfaction,” Annabelle lied.
“I see.” Roland’s eyes glinted dangerously. She swallowed. Maybe she was going too far in the ruse. She should be defending Malachi, but her condemnation of him seemed to be having the desired effect on Roland. He was feeling sorry for her…soon, he would believe in her completely. “I hope you like roasted chicken and potatoes.”
“It will please me greatly.” She gave him a soft smile. He grinned back at her. She forced herself to sit up. Pain rocked her temples. Ardal moved to her side.
“How bad is the pain?” He fell to a kneeling position at her side.
“Not unbearable, fortunately.” Ardal started to reach into his traveling bag.
“What are you reaching for, boy?!”
Startled, she looked over at Roland. He looked poised to attack Ardal. Ardal locked gazes with her, raising one of his eyebrows.
“He’s only reaching for another potion. I don’t require another one tonight, Ardal. Thank you for your concern, though.”
“You can retire for the night, boy. You have been given quarters with the other servants and slaves.”
“Slaves?”
“Of course. Bondage servants are a tradition in my country.” He winked at her. “Sometimes, the old ways are the best ways.”
Her stomach churned. She wanted to heave. He needed to get a new view on life. She couldn’t believe he still condoned slavery. Her heart sunk. Malachi had told her about the slaves—and now, she was painfully reminded and aware of his words.
“I would like to have Ardal remain by my side.”
“My lady, I appreciate your concern for me, but I know my place. I will be most content to lodge with my kind.” He winked at her quickly when Roland and Katrina were looking away.
“Take care, Ardal.” She lowered her voice to a mere whisper.
“Blessings upon you, my lady.” He stood up, and followed Katrina.
“This way, boy, I will show you the path,” Katrina muttered.
“Alone at last.” Roland sat down in the lounging chair opposite her day bed. He gave her what she could only describe as an affectionate smile. He relaxed in the chair, putting his one leg up and over the armrest. She looked away and studied her surroundings.
The castle looked as if it had been built around the same time that Malachi’s castle had been built. She felt a creepy crawly sensations flutter against the back of her mind.
“Stop it!” She commanded, speaking the word aloud, before she could sensor herself.
Roland jerked to an upright position. “Stop what?” he looked at her as if she were a few bricks short of the full load.
“Someone is shadow touching my mind. I don’t like it. It feels disgusting.”
His eyes turned tumultuous. “I told him to leave you alone!” He jumped out of his chair, and barreled toward the door. “I will be right back, Annabelle. You just rest your mind and body. You needn’t worry no one else will be shadow touching your mind. To have sensed it with your untrained abilities, I am impressed. Your potential for magical greatness warms my heart. You would have made my parents proud. They always wanted a daughter. Instead they got me.” Shrugging his shoulders, he left the room.
She was alone.
She wanted to get up and try to start searching for Malachi’s siblings, but she just didn’t have the energy. She sighed heavily. The rattling sound of serving trays met her ears. She watched the door swing open. Two servants came walking into the rooms pushing a trolley stacked with food trays. Their heads were bent low in an obvious sign of respect for Roland. She sat back up, when she recognized the one servant.
“Da?” The word slipped out of her mouth before she could keep it from spilling out. Delbert looked up. Exhaustion rimmed his eyes.
“Annabelle?” He looked dumbstruck. She stood up on wobbly legs. She was about to step toward him, when he stepped back.
“Don’t come near, me, you, thing. I don’t want you near me—you are not my daughter. You are the daughter of King Roland. You are my enemy.”
“Be quiet, Delbert. The walls have ears. You must learn to watch your tongue, else, you will be in for another flogging.”
“I don’t care. I welcome death. Anything would be better than the nightmare I’ve been plunged into.”
Icicles wound their way around her heart. Delbert looked at her as if she was a beast of nature. She remained silent
. She would not give him the satisfaction of a reaction. After all of the years they had spent together as father and daughter—and now, he was repaying her with this. She looked away from him.
“Come Delbert, we must get the food platters on the table. His Majesty will be most displeased if we do not act quickly. You know how much he hates cold food.”
“Yeah. I know.” Delbert looked away from her, and started to do his job. She swallowed the sour taste in her mouth. She turned away from them. She didn’t even want to look at Delbert. She had married Malachi for him—and now, now, he repaid her with his repugnance.
A blast of frigid air blew into the room. She looked up at Katrina. Katrina clapped her hands together in delight. “Oh, I am starved. I can’t wait to eat.” She looked over at Annabelle. “Come, Princess, you need to eat more than I…and I feel like my throat has been cut.”
Wordlessly, Annabelle stood up and walked over to the long dining table. “You sit at one end, Annabelle, and the King sits at the other end. It is as it should have always been. King Roland is overjoyed to have you by his side. That bitch of a wife of his, never should have kept you from him.”
“Bitch or not, she is still my wife, Lady Katrina,” Roland said.
Katrina looked up in panicked fear. It faded from her face, once she knew Roland wasn’t going to act out on her. Annabelle walked toward her chair and sat down. She didn’t know what to say or do. She was out of her element, and she knew it. “She is also still your mother, Annabelle.”
“Indeed.” Annabelle reached for her napkin and placed it in her lap. She couldn’t elaborate further, for now, it was best to hold her tongue. She knew that Roland would be impressed by her demure manner.
“Lord Blackburn will not be dining with us tonight. He is feeling a bit under the weather.” Roland looked almost a little too pleased with himself.
Her heart stalled in her chest. What had he done to Blackburn?
“I’m sorry to hear it,” Katrina said.
Enchanted Beauty Page 14
