Alecia’s longbow fell from the squire’s arms and clattered on the stone of the stable yard.
Vard Anton’s gaze snapped back to Alecia. “Is it your aim to make me appear incompetent, Princess?”
Alecia glared at the squire’s clumsiness and Ramón dropped the quiver in his attempt to retrieve her bow. She turned back to the captain, peering up at him through the strands of her hair. “I assure you it is not,” she said. “Now let me pass.”
His eyes narrowed and his voice dropped to a whisper she could barely hear over her thudding heart. “I’ve been given a task and I mean to see it through. No harm will come to you while you’re in my care and I intend to see that you are in my care.”
His blistering glare trapped her. She could not look away. Were his eyes even more gilded than usual? The scene around them receded until it was only Alecia, Vard Anton and this battle of wills. She felt herself slip under his dominion, his stormy golden gaze gentling her defiance like the firm hands of a trainer on the shoulder of a fractious filly. Finally she could stand it no longer and dropped her gaze. Damn, but that smarted!
His arm moved and she heard him cross the staging area. Alecia exhaled slowly, turning to find Ramón by her side.
“Are you well, Princess?” he said quietly. “What did he say?”
“Nothing, Ramón,” Alecia said, “I will just have to be more careful. Now hurry, Father will be waiting.”
Alecia’s heart and thoughts raced as she stalked to her room. She splashed cool water from a stone basin onto her cheeks but no amount of washing could banish the embarrassing scene. That she should capitulate with just a look, albeit a long and smouldering look…He hadn’t even touched her, thank the Goddess! She shook the memory of their meeting from her head and donned a pale gray dress with pearl buttons up the bodice and white lace at the high neck and cuffs. Her fingers shook as she pulled her hair back in a simple twist and brushed some blush across her cheeks.
She joined Ramón outside the dining hall and they entered together. The prince was already there, seated at the head of the table and staring at the red wine in his crystal glass. He often had a glass in his hand these days.
“Hello, Father,” Alecia said with a small curtsy.
Ramón swept a deep bow. “Prince Zialni,” he said, his voice a deal short of calm and assured.
The prince looked up at them and Alecia’s heart sank. Her father was as angry as she had ever seen him. “You think me soft, Alecia,” he said. “You think you can run around causing trouble wherever you please and I will turn a blind eye?”
She stiffened. Had her father discovered her part in the death of the mercenary? No! Surely he was just angry about this morning. “I do not try to cause trouble, Father.”
“And you, Squire Ramón,” the prince said, “should know better. Were you aware that I had placed the Princess’s safety into the hands of Captain Anton?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Ramón said. “I did not think --”
“You never think,” Prince Zialni’s voice cracked like a whip. “Arrangements have changed. You will no longer escort the Princess as you once did. Do I make myself clear?”
Ramón went red but whether from anger or embarrassment Alecia could not tell. The squire cleared his throat. “I understand perfectly, Your Highness.”
“You may eat with us. Be seated.”
Alecia smiled at Ramón as he helped her to a chair opposite the prince at the end of the table. The squire waited for Prince Zialni to sit and took a seat halfway along on Alecia’s left. She kept her eyes downcast, still frightened that her father had discovered her secrets. They ate in silence. Each second that passed tightened the band around Alecia’s stomach. The faint scrape of metal utensils on china tormented her. Just when she could stand it no more, Ramón placed his knife and spoon on his plate, asked to be excused and left the room. The squire was one of the few people she could talk to in the castle. He was like a brother, even if he didn’t see it that way. She didn’t want to see less of him, especially if it meant more of the captain’s unnerving company.
The prince wiped his mouth on his napkin and cleared his throat. “Captain Anton went looking for you this morning but found you not in your room.”
“Does he spy on me then?”
“He is watching over you, on my orders. If you leave the castle, you are to be in his company. If you are in the castle, you will let him know where you are at all times. For now, you may roam freely within these walls. If there is a repeat of this morning, when only Squire Ramón knew where you were, you will be confined to your chambers.”
“I would be a virtual prisoner.” Alecia’s hands clutched the table edge. “What is next? The dungeon?”
“I will do whatever is required to ensure your safety. We must take steps to find you a husband so that you can give me a grandson to continue the Zialni line. He will be king one day.”
“Even more good news,” Alecia said, sarcasm thick in her tone.
“You have always known that an arranged union would be your lot, Alecia. Do not behave as though this is a punishment. We have responsibilities the common folk do not.”
“I am well aware of my responsibilities,” she said. How could he talk about responsibilities when he sent mercenaries to collect taxes and innocent men died?
“What do you imply?” the prince said.
Alecia remained silent, berating herself for the outburst. If her father suspected the way she felt about the treatment of his people, she might fall under suspicion. Then the good people of Brightcastle would have no champion.
Prince Zialni stood. “You will give the kingdom an heir, and within the next year if I have my way.”
“I do not even have a husband yet.”
“I have someone in mind. It is a matter of making the marriage offer attractive.”
“And when will you inform me of the identity of my husband-to-be?” Alecia asked.
“When he has agreed to the union.”
Alecia rose, drawing the shreds of her dignity about her as best she could. “So, I will be the last to know. Do you not care for my happiness?”
The prince raised his chin but his eyes didn’t quite meet hers. “I care, Alecia, but will do whatever I must to ensure our family’s claim to the throne of Thorius. Your feelings are secondary in the matter.”
Alecia stared at her father. Where was the man who had tucked his little daughter into bed and taken her for pony rides? He had been the father who would always protect her, who could do no wrong. She fought tears, determined not to let him see how much he had hurt her. “I will be in my chambers,” she said.
“Alecia,” Prince Zialni said, “do not disobey me.” The words carried a definite threat. She swept her father a curtsy and left, slamming the door behind her.
Alecia returned to her room, schooling her steps to those of a princess, concentrating on her poise so that she could control the hurt and frustration building inside her. Once in her room she stood before the tapestry of Izebel, her shoulders slumped as she blinked away tears. Her heart told her to flee but her mind argued. It was too soon to disappear again. She had to be crafty. Already Captain Anton might have searched her chambers and found the hidden passage. Though he would hesitate to cross her threshold, he would not rest until he had puzzled out her means of eluding him.
The escape route must be protected at all costs. Nothing her father had said at luncheon suggested that the secret passage had been discovered, but what if he and the captain already schemed to catch her out so that they could lock her up? No! She would not believe her father capable of that. What to do? She paced the thick blue and gold carpet of her sitting room. Should she continue her plan of revenge against the mercenaries? Could she? Circumstances had altered dramatically since yesterday. She was now tied to Vard Anton, at least during daylight hours. Perhaps at night he would be less vigilant?
A tight band of fear clamped her chest at the thought of creeping about at night in th
e town, tracking down and disposing of armed mercenaries. She told herself it was just like the secret passage, only on a grander scale. She could do it if she had to. Hetty might help. The old woman hated the prince. At the thought of her father, Alecia’s composure crumbled and tears burned her eyes. He had treated his people harshly but she had never expected him to disregard her feelings. It must be the influence of Lord Finus. The two were thicker than thieves. White-hot anger flared in her chest, burning the fear away. Somehow, she would expose Finus and make him pay for his manipulation of the prince. She would find a way to avenge Jorge’s death and stop this ridiculous arranged marriage. Alecia’s fiery determination wavered as she faced her challenges. In that moment, she had never felt so alone.
Chapter 4
Sweat slid down Vard’s chest and back as he fought off the onslaught from the squire. They used practice swords but the weapons could still inflict damage. A cool corner of his mind wondered at the challenge from Squire Ramón. The younger man handled the sword better than most but in the first moments of the match Vard had exposed serious flaws in the squire’s technique. Insolent pup! He thinks he can protect the princess! Savage anger rose within and Vard knew he had to put an end to this now before he lost control. Attacking with an aggressive flurry of blows, he cracked his opponent’s defence. A savage strike to the side of the head knocked Ramón to the dirt, out cold. Vard paused long enough to hear the squire’s shallow breaths, to feel the thud of his heart, then threw down his sword and stalked away.
“See to him,” he said to the weapons master and left the practice yard.
Vard fought his temper as he sought the refuge of the castle park. It was really only a small wild garden but it would serve his purpose. He needed privacy to battle his demons. Many things angered him, including petty challenges from inferior warriors, but rage was his real enemy; had always been. Pictures flashed into his mind unbidden; his cousin’s body, bloodied, the flesh torn; warm muscle ripping under his teeth; blood spurting; a fresh grave; his father’s sad face; a weeping mother. Vard fought the surge of energy that carried him towards transformation. If he could not stop it, at least he could control the form. His breathing deepened as he clutched the stone at his throat. He closed his eyes, sought the emptiness and then began to replace it with the image…
Alecia watched from her bedroom window as Vard Anton, naked to the waist, strode through the entrance to the castle grounds. His right fist clenched and unclenched while the left gripped the curious amber stone. As she admired the hard muscles of his shoulders and stomach, a warm glow lit her lower abdomen. She did not allow the pleasurable sensation to take hold, pushing it aside and instead concentrating on anger. The man below had no care for her happiness so why should she concern herself with what might have upset him?
He strode into the park and was lost from view. What business could he have in there? Was it solitude he sought? Peace? Perhaps he hunted the comfort of a woman. Alecia imagined the captain’s arms around her and jumped as she realized where her thoughts had carried her. I must be true to Jorge’s memory. I owe him that much and more. She tried to distract herself with thoughts of Jorge but her eyes again found the captain. What had made him so angry?
As Alecia watched, a black and gold-banded hawk burst from the trees of the park and shot straight into the heavens until it was just a speck. That was odd. The local hawks were all brown and smaller. She struggled to keep the dot in focus but blinked and lost it. That bird had been magnificent. The thought that someone might capture the creature struck a chord of sorrow within her. Something that beautiful should not be tamed.
Alecia pulled her gaze from the sky and her heart leaped at the sight of the same exotic bird perched on the roof of the stable. It stared at her, unblinking. The eyes appeared golden however it was impossible to be sure at this distance. She shivered and forced herself to look away and over to the park. When her eyes swept back to the stable roof, the hawk had vanished.
Alecia maintained her vigil at the window, hoping to catch another glimpse. The bird did not reappear -- and neither did the captain, even though she stood there until the light faded.
The banded hawk soared high above Brightcastle Town, the air currents ruffling his gold and black feathers. It had been too long. The sense of weightlessness was like no other experience, and something like joy filled the bird’s brain. There was fear as well; fear at the fragility of life, especially for one such as him. A properly placed arrow could pluck his body from the sky and send it plummeting. Despite this, he descended from his lofty realm and alighted on a rooftop. His sharp eyes detected movement at one of the castle windows. A woman stood there. She was not beautiful, but so self-assured that it was a beauty in itself. They stared at each other for a time and the hawk again felt the fear of the unknown, of a fragile life, ever just one step away from death and oblivion. A small part of him longed for that oblivion. Longed for release from a life of constant battle, a battle that could be lessened by the shift -- if only he weren’t afraid of losing himself entirely.
The woman broke the contact and as if released from a spell, the hawk took to the air, his strong wings taking him swiftly away from the castle and town. A juicy rabbit was his goal before the call of the body beckoned him back to reality…whatever that was.
Vard muttered to himself as he carried the dinner tray towards Princess Alecia’s chambers. What was this anyway? Compulsion? Was she a witch? He seemed unable to act of his own volition. It was part of his Defender role that the vulnerable drew him when they needed help. That must be it. The princess needed him. She was in danger, or at least her father thought so.
He paused outside her room, his emotions still turbulent. The shift should have helped, but it hadn’t. He took several deep breaths to calm his heart, which beat far quicker than it should, and forced his mind to focus on the job at hand. He would deliver the meal, and get out of there.
Vard knocked on the door. The princess opened it, drawing on a thick cream robe -- but not before he glimpsed the pale blue nightgown that hugged her full breasts and fell in layers to the floor. Flaxen hair cascaded around her shoulders. He frowned at the tightening in his loins.
She drew herself up when she saw the expression on his face. “I hardly expected you to deliver my meal, Captain,” she said, taking the tray and placing it on a small table just inside the door. She made no move to allow him entry.
His gaze swung past her into the room. Most young women would not have the lights this low. “I happened to overhear your request for a meal in your rooms and thought I could ensure that you were well at the same time.” He turned back to her, his arousal deepening despite the layers that stood between them. He clutched the amber stone at his throat and her eyes followed as though mesmerized. No! It was not the princess but he who was hypnotized. This woman intrigues me, but why? He couldn’t allow her to trap him. Despite his resolve, he stepped closer. She was not beautiful but she radiated…something. Perhaps she was a witch; like the old woman of yesterday.
“Thank you for the meal. Do not let me keep you from your rest.”
Her words broke the spell and Vard bowed to her, intending to depart, but some power held him in her presence. What did she want of him? Somehow he had to distract himself. “How did you do it, Princess?”
“I do not know what you mean.” He heard tension in her voice.
“You managed to elude me this morning to go riding with the squire.”
“You do not guard me as closely as you may think, Captain. Perhaps you fell asleep.”
Vard stepped over the threshold, forcing her to retreat. “I did not fall asleep!” His eyes searched her face, trying to find that which drew him against his will. Despite his enhanced sight, he simply could not see her well enough in this gloom. “You will not put yourself at risk again. I must accompany you each time you leave this castle.”
“You and my father would have me live like a bird in a cage. I have been free, and I do not wish to
have my wings clipped.”
“It’s no concern of mine what you wish, Princess.” Vard said, distracted by the play of emotions over her features. In the half-dark, they were even more intriguing.
Her eyes sparked and narrowed as she took a step towards him, her hand raised to slap his face. A tingle ran through his body as his hand closed on her wrist. A blush appeared on her cheeks. Was it really anger she felt? Or something else?
Her lips parted slightly before pressing into a firm line. “Unhand me,” she said, tugging at her trapped arm.
Before Vard could stop himself, his right arm looped around her waist inside the dressing gown and he yanked her to him until their faces were only inches apart. Her rose perfume filled his nose and his heart beat a little faster as the heat of her body infused his. Her eyes widened and the muscles of her throat tightened as she swallowed, however Vard could discern no real fear. Was it bravery or was she simply too naïve to panic?
“You are as bad as he,” she said, sounding breathless. Perhaps there was fear after all. Then she straightened her shoulders and her tone grew bolder. “I have a life to live and I do not see why you or my father should dictate to me.”
Vard barely heard a word she said. He released her wrist and let his hand slide across the velvet of her skin. His left thumb massaged a lazy circle against the silken fabric at her waist and his eyes fell to her lips, slightly parted in her agitation. How he was drawn to them. Vard raised his eyes to Alecia’s and again felt a stab of recognition. He tossed the thought aside, growling low in his throat. His head dipped, wanting to taste her mouth more than anything. Alecia’s eyes widened a second before she shoved against his chest.
The spell was broken.
Vard stared, conscious of his racing heart. Her heart beat a quick staccato -- and, again, there was something familiar in it. Perhaps they had met in a former life. Defenders could be reincarnated just as humans could. He swallowed hard, his gaze trapped by her hands as she smoothed her gown.
Princess Avenger - Brightcastle Saga Book 1 Page 4
