"We will protect our Prince," the leader says grimly, his sword and knife already coated in blood.
"You know you will not succeed," I say softly.
Even if they manage to cut us down, our soldiers will finish them.
"Success is not always the goal."
I nod. Principals are important no matter how inconvenient. It is a shame they are wasting theirs on someone like Franean. The three of us move forward as one, the guards dividing two for each of us. Being Prince of a House does not mean being able to relegate the bloody, dirty work of fighting to soldiers while hiding oneself. No, despite Franean's example, a Prince will see more battle in his lifetime than any of the people under him. We have all seen more than any of these young males.
As I block a guard's swing and kick out into his side, I take no joy in it. But neither will I lose sleep over a necessary kill. I make it quick, a slice to the throat, almost painless. When he goes to stem the flow of crimson liquid, I stab my knife into his eye. Instant death.
Pulling it out with a grunt, I turn to the other guard. He manages to score a slice along my ribs, but then I swing my sword in a pattern designed to confuse the eye. He makes the classic mistake of anticipating a blow from the side and I run him through. The light dies in his eyes as I pull my sword back out.
When I step back to look at the others, Drevakin is using his fallen opponent's tunic to wipe his blade and Elorshin is pulling his knife out of his opponent's back.
I nod at them as I open the door into the House Mansion, bracing myself to find even more guards posted to protect their unworthy Prince but the entrance is empty but for Franean, standing with his sword and knife out, a tinge of fear on his face.
Perhaps there were no other guards willing to protect him.
I take a step forward. "You made a mistake," I say. "Following Malathin's plan will be your downfall."
He chuckles. "Malathin was an idiot," he concedes. "If he had been more careful with that human the first time, we would not even be here," he spits out. "He was even stupid enough to sign his own name to the missive when contacting you! My suggestion of course—he would have been a convenient target for you." He shakes his head. "Really, it was a pity he could not perform the simple task set forth for him."
I frown. "It was your plan," I say, completely taken aback by this revelation.
He shrugs. "It would have worked and I would have gotten away with it if not for Malathin's incompetence."
He may not be wrong but my entire idea of his and Malathin's relationship obviously was.
His sword and knife are clean, leading me to believe he ran as soon as our archers loosened their arrows. Protecting his own hide first.
"You are a disgrace," I say, completely disgusted by him.
He draws himself up to his full height, as if that is going to impress me somehow. "You are ruining the fabric of our society! Breaking traditions that are in place for good reason!"
"What of the tradition to lead your people in battle?" I ask, arching a brow at him as we begin to circle, Elorshin and Drevakin guarding my back. I would not put it past this sniveling fool to have someone else attack me while I focus on him. "Or is that not a convenient one for you to uphold?" I mock.
He snarls. "I am disappointed indeed to see your Pari alive and well," he sneers, changing tactics. "My guards were especially sad to see her go. They had plans for her." He smirks. "You do realize she will never be truly safe?" he taunts in a quiet voice. "You have made too many enemies and she is too tempting a target."
Anger attempts to take over, but I push it back down. He has lost. And he knows it.
"You are a disgrace to the Alvan race."
Darting in, I feint with my sword. He blocks it, leaving his side open for my knife but I only manage to nick him before he twists out of reach.
We continue to circle, both of us quiet now as we focus.
He attacks next, flipping his knife in his hand and throwing it at me in a move I was not expecting at all. I shift to the side quickly, but it slices through the outside of my thigh, the trickle of blood hot as it slides down my leg.
But now he is down to his sword alone.
I attack in a flurry of movement, keeping both blades in motion so it is difficult to focus on either. His eyes track them carefully, blocking where he can, dodging where he cannot. All the while, I slice small, shallow cuts where he is unable to protect himself until he is covered with them and his own blood, breathing hard.
The blood loss is slowing him down, just a fraction.
It is all I need.
When he comes in to attack, I move to the side and sweep his legs out from under him. As his back hits the ground, I kick his sword out of his hand then the tip of mine dents his throat, a warning he heeds by going still.
"You cannot kill me," he says, swallowing slowly, his eyes darting around, looking for an escape that does not exist. "I am Prince of House Caffaar, the greatest—"
I slice his throat open with one firm jerk, cutting deep enough that he is dead within moments.
"I wanted to hear what was the greatest about him," Drevakin remarks sardonically.
"Most likely the greatest ass this generation has seen," Elorshin says dryly.
I step back, catching my breath. "His prattling was irritating me." I look up at them. "I believe we have won."
They grin, the sentiment almost identical, a harsh baring of fangs.
Our enemies are dead.
As we leave the House Mansion and walk out through the courtyard to the marketplace, the fighting is over. There are many dead, but also a significant number of prisoners. I will have to dwell upon who should be appointed as the new Prince of House Caffaar.
Someone who did not agree with Franean's position but I am more than willing to put that decision off for a few days.
When I reach Ling, she is craning her head, searching the crowd. Her eyes land on me and relief suffuses her face palpable through our bond. But then she scans down my body and sees the blood covering me.
"Naefaren!" she cries, running over to me, her hands coming out to grip me by the arms. "Where are you hurt?"
"It is not my blood." I look down. "Well, some of it is," I admit.
She shakes her head, dragging me over to the carriage and forcing me to sit. I comply, letting her check me over.
"Is it done?" she asks, when she has assured herself my injuries are minor.
"Yes." It is. Though there is always more to do, the battle has been won. Anyone will think twice before crossing me or any of my allies in the future.
"Good," she says, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her head against my shoulder. "Can we go home?"
I nod, pulling her in even closer. She is an anchor, bringing me back to reality as the haze of battle lust clears.
My allies and I leave some of our most competent people behind to run House Caffaar until we decide what to do with it and then we ride out, back to our respective Houses, with a promise to meet in two days.
Ling's warmth against my side reminds me why I fight so hard for the future I envision. I want a world in which she is happy and safe. In which everybody can be. And when we reach House Viir to the cheers of our people, passing through the crowd to reach the House Mansion, I know she is my talisman, keeping me in the here and now, a tangible manifestation of my goal.
In the House Mansion, where she has added an undeniable feel of a real home, we bathe and eat, falling into bed as exhaustion overtakes us.
I hold her against me.
Comforted by her very existence, I fall into a dreamless, exhausted sleep.
23
Ling
"Can you send this message off to House Lo'ara for me, please?"
"Yes, my pleasure, Princess Ling." The young messenger bows with a smile.
"Thank you."
As he leaves to deliver the message, I go back to the pile of paperwork in front of me. Serves me right for complaining I have nothing to do. I smile wryly as I go
through one of the agreements with a new House, House Gronshin. We've been going back and forth through messengers with Prince Reesov in the interest of time.
With the fall of House Caffaar, there's a lot on our plate right now. In addition to the fallout, there have also been a lot of new Houses reaching out to us as a consequence. Whether to ensure they are safe from us, or to boost their economy—it doesn't really matter if it's something that can help us and our allies.
However, that also means more paperwork. A lot more paperwork.
Naefaren moved another desk into the study for me and gleefully dumped most of the pile on it for me to take care of. Then he promptly left to take care of something else.
I roll my eyes as I make notes. I'm not really mad about it though. Keeps my brain working and I've learned even more while having to take care of the day to day book keeping that goes along with heading a House.
Plus, now Naefaren has more time to spend with me at the end of the day.
I move on to the next message, but have to stop there. I take a deep breath as a wave of exhaustion hits me. We've been doing so much that I've been more and more tired.
Shaking it off, I stand. Maybe it's time to get out of the House Mansion and take a walk. I haven't been to the marketplace today. That decided, I head out of the study and leave the house, taking a deep breath and admiring the architecture while I move. It truly is beautiful.
As I reach the crowd at the marketplace, I perk up a little, looking around with interest. I have to be careful or I may end up taking back an armful of things I really don't need. Everything just looks so interesting.
Shaking my head at myself, I stroll along with the crowd, fingering the fabric at a clothing stall, handling a small bejeweled knife at a decorative weapons stall. That one has to be my favorite.
I mean, I don't put my hair up in a bun often, but the different variations of hair weaponry makes me want to do it more.
"How are you today, Princess Ling?" the older woman who runs the stall asks.
"Fine," I say with a smile, setting the knife down. "How is business?"
She beams as she polishes one of the hair combs. "Oh, it is wonderful! Wonderful! And I know I have you to thank for much of it!"
I shake my head, picking up a bracelet, wide enough and hard enough to double as a wrist guard. "Nonsense. You have nice things, that is why you are doing well," I disagree, putting it back down as something else catches my eye.
"I do have nice things," she agrees confidently. "But seeing the Princess in something from my stall has increased interest." She grins. "Please, take anything you would desire. It is excellent for my bottom line!"
I laugh at that. The idea that I’m seen a trendsetter of any kind is hilarious. As I'm chatting with her, a whiff of an exotic spice reaches me from a nearby stall. It's a stall that I've visited before, have enjoyed the food at, but the scent hits me all wrong today.
"Is something the matter, my Princess?"
I look up into her concerned face. "No, no I am fine," I reassure her, forcing a smile as my stomach turns over. "Just in need of a nap. Thank you."
I wave goodbye as I turn back to the House Mansion. Walking quickly to leave the scent behind, I take a deep breath as I near the courtyard, my stomach settling but still tender. I don't know what's been wrong with me lately. The slightest thing will set me off, nausea rearing its ugly head. Maybe I'm coming down with whatever the Alvan equivalent of the flu is.
I reach the House Mansion and walk past some of the family paintings that I see every day, my eye scanning them as I always do. My favorite is one with a mother holding her baby.
I stop in mid step as I stare at the painting.
My mind goes completely blank.
Wait.
I count the days, checking and re-checking, but it comes out the same each time.
I'm late.
Significantly late.
It could just be stress. God knows I've had enough.
I stare at the baby's round cheeked face.
But...
"Oh! My Princess! Are you going to your bedchamber? Would you like me to change the sheets at some other time?"
I turn to the young maid, feeling as if time isn't moving quite right.
"My Princess?" the maid asks again, her expression turning concerned. "Is something wrong?"
I snap out of it and take a step towards her. "Can you keep something to yourself?" I ask in a low voice.
"Of course," she whispers, taking the cue from me. "What is it?"
"Do you know of a doctor? Or a midwife?"
Her eyes widen and then dart around like this is more information than she expected. There’s only one reason to need a midwife.
"Yes. Vareela is very good. My mother used her. I can go fetch her?" she asks, already taking a step back, the neatly folded sheets still in her hands.
"No need," I tell her quickly, not wanting the woman to come to the House Mansion where everyone would know instantly. "Can you tell me where to find her?"
"Yes," she says, nodding enthusiastically. "Once you leave the courtyard..."
I listen intently, not wanting to make a mistake. As soon as I have it, I thank her and leave, making a beeline straight for Vareela's home. The directions are easy enough to follow., I turn into a narrow alley and then another. I finally stop in front of a bright blue door, a sign hanging out front.
Vareela. Midwife.
Looks like I made it to the right place at least. I glance in both directions before I knock quickly.
"Yes?" a strong female voice calls out a few seconds later.
But before I can reply, the door opens to reveal a woman somewhere in her sixties, her salt and pepper hair caught up in a thick braid lying over her breast, her gauzy dress a pretty pink color. Her surprise at my presence is clear. Stepping out, she takes me by the arm and pulls me in immediately, her eyes scanning the alley just as mine had.
"Gossip is inevitable," she explains as she closes the door behind me. "Best to keep it to a minimum when possible." She moves back somewhat. "So, my Princess, I am assuming you are not here simply to have a chat?" she asks, her eyes sharp as they take me in.
I shake my head. "I am...late. And I have been nauseous at odd times. Sensitivity to scents." I sigh, rubbing my face. "I thought...I need an experienced opinion."
She nods sympathetically. "That you do, my dear. Now, why do you not come with me and we will have a look..."
She takes me into the backroom and checks me out, confirming my suspicions.
"So...I am...?" I ask again.
"With child," she repeats, her eyes kind. "It is a joyous moment for House Viir indeed. But how are you feeling? Do you need a moment?"
I swallow, the small spark of joy inside me growing. I hadn't wanted to feel it until I was sure. And so much could still go wrong, but...
"I am...filled with happiness," I say, tears welling up. "Why am I crying?" I ask, laughing.
"Well, your mood may very well be quite changeable as you progress," she comments with a wide smile as she sees I am happy with the news. "Now, you will need to have plenty of food and rest. I am going to give you some herbs to have and..."
I listen, nodding along with the instructions she gives me.
But the whole time, I'm wondering how I'm going to tell Naefaren. We haven't exactly addressed kids. What if he doesn't react well? Even as the reasonable part of me tells me I'm being ridiculous, the anxious part of me worries at that possibility.
"Thank you," I say, hugging Vareela as I leave. "Thank you so much."
"There is no need to thank me, child," she chuckles, giving me a warm squeeze. "Now, if anything feels wrong or different, you come see me right away," she warns. "I do not care if it is the middle of the night! Understand?"
"Yes," I say, chuckling.
"We do not have many babies anymore," she remarks, face sad. "So I have more than enough time for you. And I will be angry indeed if you do not use it!"
"Yes, of course," I agree meekly as I step out.
"And do not worry about Naefaren," she adds as I step away, her eyes knowing.
I nod, wondering if I really am that transparent. Probably she's just had that much experience.
As I walk away with the bundle of herbs and tinctures she gave me, I make my way directly to the border wall, where I know Naefaren should be right now. No way I can go back to the House Mansion and wait for him to come back. I half hold my breath as I walk through the marketplace, not wanting to be hit with a bout of nausea again. When I pass the food stalls without a twinge, I breathe a sigh of relief.
At the border wall, I catch a guard's eye and gesture him over.
"Yes, my Princess?" he asks, his demeanor respectful and attentive.
"Can you please ask Naefaren to come down? I need to speak with him." I glance up at the wall, trying to spot him. "It is important."
He nods. "Right away, my Princess."
And then he's running up the steps leading to the top. Less than a minute later, Naefaren is running down the steps to me, his face worried as he seeks me out in the crowd. When he finds me, he rushes over.
"What is it Ling?" he asks, his eyes scanning my body quickly. "Are you hurt? Is something wrong?"
"No," I say, feeling a little bad about worrying him. I didn't realize how alarming it would be for me to show up like this when I never have before. "No, I'm fine," I reassure him, taking his hand and pulling him with me. "I need to talk to you, but I want to do it at home. In private."
As I say that, he looks around, as if just realizing how many eyes and ears are on us. He nods, allowing me to lead the way back to the House Mansion. We don't speak as we make the walk, not until we are back inside, in our bedchamber. As soon as the door closes, Naefaren takes me in his arms.
"What is it?" he murmurs against my hair. "I confess, you are frightening me. Please, dispel my misery."
I chuckle, pulling back. I want to be able to see his face.
He lets me move back to sit at the edge of the bed, his face watchful as I lower myself.
How am I supposed to say this? I've been running through the best way, but nothing sounds quite right. Shaking my head, I just spit it out.
Rescued by the Alien Prince: Celestial Mates (The Alva) Page 14
