Alecia nodded, keeping her eyes downcast. “Thank you again for your help, Captain.”
“Let us enjoy our meal and afterwards, Anton, you and I will talk,” Prince Zialni said.
Alecia let out her breath then began to worry about the subject of her father’s conversation. Please, Goddess, let it just be business. She shook her head and glanced up to find the captain’s eyes upon her.
The meal arrived at that moment: warm crusty bread with spicy vegetable soup, roast pheasant and boiled potatoes. Alecia had started on her soup before her father cleared his throat.
“Captain Anton will think us uncouth if we do not give thanks, Daughter,” he said, his brows drawn in disapproval. “If you would be so kind, Alecia.”
Her face grew hot. How could she be such a ninny as to draw further attention to herself? She crossed her arms over her chest, hands on shoulders, and bowed her head. “May the Mother who shelters all continue to bestow her benevolence upon us, Praise her Holy Name.”
The men echoed her words. “Praise her Holy Name.”
Alecia shot a glance at her father and saw speculation in his eyes. He would wonder at her odd behaviour. She lowered her head to the meal and didn’t raise it until the servant came to clear the dishes. Dried and sweetened fruit with thick custard completed the meal.
“Take care, Daughter,” the prince said. “A healthy appetite is frowned upon in a good wife; it spoils the figure. One day soon we shall have to find a husband for you and I would not wish you to make the task more difficult.”
This time the heat in Alecia’s skin was generated from anger as much as embarrassment. How dare he mock me?
The captain sat, his posture stiff, an unreadable expression on his face. “I don’t believe it will be difficult to find a husband for a daughter with such obvious charms,” he said, his eyes lifting to hers.
Alecia flashed Captain Anton a smile at the compliment but gratitude was soon replaced by irritation. They discussed her as though she were a prize cow. She cleared her throat, intent on forestalling the subject of her betrothal. Her father spoke first.
“Perhaps you can help me in that task, Captain,” the prince said.
Alecia choked on her wine, appalled at the turn of the conversation. She looked at the captain. If he was stiff before, he now appeared ready to fight – was it attack or defence he anticipated?
“I don’t understand, Your Highness,” Vard Anton said.
“Be at ease,” Prince Zialni said. “I refer to the reason I have asked you here tonight. I have cause to fear for the safety of my daughter, and the incident in the market square this morning only heightens my anxiety. It is indeed fortunate that you were present to aid the luckless citizen after he was attacked. I cannot believe Brightcastle houses such ruffians that would assault an unarmed lad.”
Alecia gasped. Relief that her secret appeared safe was swamped by the fear that Captain Anton might readily link the lad and the princess if the incident were discussed in her presence. If that happened, would he expose her now or confront her later? The captain had not reported the true facts of the incident. Why?
“Alecia, dear, I know this news must come as a shock, but there is no need to fear.” Prince Zialni turned to the captain. “The princess is my only child. She must live to marry and produce a son who might one day be king. I wish for you to accept the charge of keeping her safe, whatever that entails.”
Alecia muffled a second gasp, her eyes wide as she waited for the captain’s response. Vard Anton sat stock still, his knuckles white on the spoon that was raised halfway to his mouth. A small muscle at his jaw tightened as he lifted his eyes to the prince. Alecia could not spare a thought for the captain’s discomfiture when she faced the prospect of the coming days in his company. How am I to avoid him now?
Prince Zialni frowned, spinning the goblet in his hand. “I am waiting.”
Still the captain remained silent and Prince Zialni slowly stood. Alecia held her breath, sure that one of her father’s famous rages threatened. Why did the captain not speak?
At last, Vard Anton seemed to come out of his trance and looked at the prince. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I’ll be honored to see to the safety of the princess, should you wish it.”
Prince Zialni’s frown deepened as he seated himself. “We shall adjourn to the smoking room. There is no need for Alecia to be concerned with the arrangements. It will suffice for her to know she is protected.”
Alecia rose from the table. The captain stood while Lord Finus and the prince remained seated. “Please excuse me, gentlemen,” Alecia said. “I will retire.”
“Until we meet again, Princess,” Captain Anton said, bowing. “Sweet dreams.”
There were murmurs from the prince and his advisor but she had no ears for them. All Alecia could concentrate on was leaving the room without falling over her skirts. She swept past the page without her customary goodnight and fled up the central staircase to her room.
Vard stalked back to his quarters in the guard barracks, hand grasping the smooth stone at his neck, his mind in turmoil. He liked having the element of surprise on his side, not used against him and he could well do without minding a spoiled prince’s daughter, no matter how appealing. And she had been tempting in the lavender silk and lace that emphasized her tiny waist and revealed an expanse of generous bosom. She was perhaps a little thinner than he generally liked, but that stunning smile transformed her; made him forget her imperfections.
She had seemed discomforted at his presence, which puzzled him. Perhaps she was embarrassed that he had seen her stumble. She had barely raised her eyes all night. He usually had the opposite effect on women. They were drawn to him like moths to a flame – and his flame was just as likely to burn. That was why he kept his distance. Involvement with Vard Anton could only lead to harm. Therein lay the danger of this latest task, but if he could protect the princess while remaining aloof, she’d be safe from him and from whomever sought to harm her.
Vard frowned. He was fooling himself. It wouldn’t be easy, perhaps not even possible to walk the fine line between protecting the princess and placing her at risk; already her smile danced in his memory. He recalled the sway of Alecia’s hips when she left the dining hall. There was something familiar about her that eluded him. The nagging feeling that he had met her before wouldn’t go away, but that was absurd. He’d only been in Brightcastle for a week and had certainly had no opportunity to see the princess, let alone meet her.
He grunted at the track his thoughts had taken. His job was to protect Alecia Zialni. While he kept her safe, he could gather information for the mission that had really brought him to Brightcastle: the assassination of the prince. The truth of his task made him pause. Yes, it met his Defender goals – to protect the innocent from harm by whatever means necessary – but who was the faceless man who had hired him? Was it perhaps Zialni’s nephew Piotr? It made sense that Piotr, next in line to the throne, might want Zialni dead, but would the death of the prince bring even greater danger to Princess Alecia? How could Vard accomplish his task and extract himself while ensuring the princess was safe?
Vard rubbed the short hairs across the back of his neck. The zigzag of his thoughts unnerved him. Disaster would surely find him if he couldn’t keep his thoughts where they needed to be. Rigid discipline had served him well in the past – allowing emotions to dominate his actions could only lead to ruin. He’d fought too hard to lose himself now.
He pulled his saddlebags from under the cot and packed his clothes for the move into the castle. Vard called his lieutenant in to inform him he’d be taking over leadership of the Zialni Royal Guard, then stepped into the night. As he re-entered the palace grounds, he glanced up to the windows on the second floor of the west wing where the royal family had their suites. Only one room showed a dim light.
Vard entered via the servants’ access, left his saddlebags and boots in the utility hall and slipped through the darkened passageways to the main stairca
se. Phasing partially to exploit the heightened senses of the wolf, his nose led him to the prince’s quarters at the end of the west wing on the second floor. The heavy wooden door swung on silent hinges and he pulled it closed behind him, pausing to get his bearings in the near dark. No noise came from the parlor or the bedchamber beyond. Vard memorized the position of each piece of furniture, searching for weapons in both rooms. A short bow hung from a hook beside the armchair in the parlor and he discovered a sword resting against the wall behind the bed.
Footsteps echoed from the hall followed by the squeak of a hinge. He ghosted to the bedroom window, opened it and slid through. Fingers gripping the windowsill, he scrambled for toe holds on the slippery quartz walls of the palace. Finally, his feet found two precarious cracks. He gripped the amber talisman with his right hand and began to form the image of the hawk in his mind.
Alecia pulled her head back into her bedroom from the hall. “Sweet dreams!” She kicked her skirts as she stalked to the fireplace. “As if anyone can sleep with him downstairs.”
Millie, her chambermaid had been bubbling with excitement at the news that the enigmatic Captain Vard Anton had moved into one of the servant’s rooms on the ground floor of the east wing. Alecia shook her head. Why does he have to be here in the castle? Aren’t the royal guard barracks close enough? Obviously not in the mind of her father. She gazed into the fire, her thoughts troubled and hands pressed to her stomach to quiet the fluttering. What was this reaction every time she thought of him? Fear? Unbidden, his face danced in her mind, uncompromising and confident. He had saved her life and hidden the true facts about the attack. Why had he not revealed that it had been the mercenary who had been the victim, not the lad? It did not make sense.
She poured herself a goblet of deep red burgundy and took a gulp. The heavy wine burned all the way to her stomach. Raw her nerves might be after the surprises at dinner but at least her part in the mercenary death remained hidden. Had she concealed her shock from the captain? Would he wonder at her behaviour? She needed to keep her distance and that would hardly be possible now that she was under his nose night and day. How could she prevent him discovering her other life, let alone her plan to avenge Jorge?
The thought of Jorge made her heart ache. Why hadn’t she been able to save him like she had Hetty? Why hadn’t she told Jorge how much he meant to her? She placed the wine back beside the decanter and turned to the fire, staring into the flames. It was too late. Jorge was gone and there was nothing she could do to bring him back.
The remaining four murderers must not escape justice but who would deliver it to them? Her encounter with the mercenary this morning had shown how unprepared she was for a confrontation with seasoned fighters. Perhaps she would never be ready. If not for Captain Anton…
There was a knock at her door. Alecia’s heart sped as the sharp sound intruded. Until today, she hadn’t been afraid of anything. She crossed her small sitting room and opened the door. Squire Ramón Zorba stood on the threshold. He had replaced Jorge as squire after Jorge’s murder and it was Ramón’s heartfelt desire to replace Jorge in her affections as well.
“Where were you at dinner?” she asked, noticing how the midnight-blue velvet of his tunic and breeches set off his eyes and contrasted with the golden waves of his hair.
Ramón glowered. “Your father told me not to attend dinner. Was that on your request?”
“Of course not.” She paused, chewing her lip. “Captain Anton was there. Do you know anything of him?”
Ramón frowned. “He rescued a citizen in the square this morning.”
“Yes.” She shivered. “Have you met him?”
“No, but he has made an impression in his short time at Brightcastle. Only a week and it seems he is already a legend.”
Alecia had never before heard the bitter note in his voice. “Why do you dislike him?”
“There is something about the man that makes my skin crawl.” Ramón’s voice hadn’t lost its harsh edge.
Alecia recalled her feelings at her first encounter with the captain and her discomforting memories since. “Father has made him my protector.”
Ramón’s eyes bulged and he tugged on the long hair at his forehead. “Then you must beware.”
“Thank you for setting my mind at rest,” she said, her voice thick with sarcasm.
“Just take care,” Ramón said. “I will try to keep watch on him… and you.” He stepped back into the shadows of the hall. “I will check in on you tomorrow,” he said. “Perhaps we can practise the sword.”
She flinched at the thought of sharp steel slicing through flesh. “I think I would prefer the archery range.”
“I will have the horses saddled and waiting at the usual time.” Ramón bowed and headed for the staircase and his room in the east tower.
“A curious pastime for a princess,” a deep voice said from the shadows at the other end of the hallway.
Alecia’s hand flew to her throat and she spun to face the voice, knowing whom she would see. Captain Anton pushed himself away from the wall and walked towards her, his eyes reflecting the light that spilled from her rooms. The grace of his movement mesmerized her. It seemed he slid from shadow to shadow, as one with the dark. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “You startled me.”
The captain advanced to within a pace and swept a bow. The faint smell of musk and cloves wafted to her. She breathed deeply.
“Is it customary for you to meet young squires in darkened hallways, Princess?”
Alecia met his gaze squarely, glad that the light behind cloaked her face in darkness. Her unusual eye color would be impossible to read and that was the feature most likely to give her secret away. “Squire Ramón and I are friends,” she said. “Nothing more.”
“What is this I hear about archery practice tomorrow?”
“Merely an exercise to keep me from boredom.”
“And your father knows of this?”
Alecia cleared her throat. “I do not know.”
“There should be no need to trouble him as long as I accompany you.” His eyes glowed, the gold flecks prominent.
Alecia’s chin rose and she stared at him, desperate to find some way she could refuse. There was none. “As you wish, Captain.”
He reached for her right hand and raised it to his lips. The kiss was light but he held her hand for a few moments longer than necessary while he stared into her eyes. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she held her breath, waiting for him to release her hand and break the spell.
“Until tomorrow, Princess.” He returned to the shadows.
Alecia stepped back into her room. The door closed with a sharp click. Heart pounding, she forced herself to take deep breaths but they did little to restore her composure. The feel of his lips lingered on her skin. What was wrong with her? She stalked over to the pitcher, poured cold water and scrubbed her hand until the skin was red.
Instinct told her the truth of Ramón’s words. Captain Anton was dangerous, and in ways that the squire did not yet suspect. She could not avoid him altogether. Her father had seen to that. All she could do to protect her identity was to spend as little time in his company as possible.
The Lady and the Pirate Page 23
