by L B Keen
CRIMSON BIRD 3
A Novel By,
L.B. KEEN
© 2017 Published by After Hours Publications, Inc.
www.afterhourspublications.com
All rights reserved.
Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage without express permission by the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Contains explicit language & adult themes suitable for ages 16+
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Other Titles by
L.B. Keen
Three Kings and Their Kat
Three Kings and Our Ivy
A Heart Disguised
A Heart Taken
Wolf’s Bride
Highland Song
Acknowledgment
There is nothing like a hangover, then like a writing hangover. But thanks to Tiffany Lillie, the morning after wasn’t so bad.
And to the young woman by the name Taylor Sargeant who gave me my very first interview, blessings on your marriage and many happy years to come.
These two make the saying, “As I walked through life I found friends, and random sights more a blessing, than the ones I’ve known all my life,” Completely true.
--L.B. Keen
Chapter One
Her eyes were dead.
She’d recovered from her loss and now stared at herself in blank wonder. She looked younger, if that was possible. She allowed the servants to brush her hair and rub oils into her skin. It had grown darker, and rosier. She was the pink of health, though inwardly she felt like she was in hell.
Her memories were clashing inside her warring mind: pictures of an amusing Talon versus the memories of his enraged expression and his rough touches. Friendly and cunning, she knew what he was capable of, what all of them were capable of.
As she sat here contemplating, she lifted her chin when hearing her new name called. “Mistress?”
Languidly, she turned her eyes towards the servant girl, Fi, who lifted a tray of cloth from where she sat on her knees. Two rolls of fabric laid there, a black one and a white one.
“Yes?”
Fi felt a chill at her mistress’ expression. She didn’t know what Kahlia’s mother had done, but whatever it had been, her mistress wasn’t the same. Dead-eyed, cold voice… nothing remained of the carefree woman as if a false mask had been scraped away. “I-I.” She swallowed as her mistress’ eyes sharpened on her with a frightening focus. “Which one would our mistress prefer?”
White had always been her mistress’ preference, matched with soft golds and silvers. She didn’t much care for shoes, but the robes were always light and diaphanous.
Bird looked at each roll, her pointer finger brushing along the smooth wood of the armrest. She wasn’t truly looking at the fabric, but at her life. White was something she’d always felt hid lies. Purity and beauty were a form of weapon, a way to cajole others into trusting a person.
Like Fitzwilliam, with his golden looks and pale skin. Vampires loved to flaunt their pale skin as if the white somehow hid the gruesome and darker half of their nature. The lauded damsels with pink cheeks and milky skin.
She paused in her brushing, slowly curling her fingers around the edge of the armrest, her nails digging slightly into the wood. The chamber darkened for a mere second. A cloud wandering beyond its place shaded the luxurious open-air chamber long enough for Bird to feel the weight of it upon her skin. A momentary coolness that aligned with the pain she was experiencing.
“The black,” she said simply, turning her attention back to the mirror. “I believe the black would serve best.”
Fi gave a short nod before rising and moving backward, turning and heading deeper into the princess’ chambers to prepare her dress.
When Talon first arrived at the palace, he expected guards to approach him at the gate. Surely someone would have noticed their Princes’ late arrival, but it wasn’t so, apparently.
He still wasn’t sure if his move to ask for Kahlia’s hand would be accepted, but he would do what he must. He couldn’t see himself without her by his side. Entering through the first chamber, he found his pathway blocked by Dua. The man looked blanked face as usual, and as usual, he met Talon’s stare with a disgruntled look.
“The princess wishes to see you.”
Talon blinked. “She does?”
He glanced around, seeing no one else, as he’d abandon his entourage at the gates. “Is it urgent? I am to meet with her father in mere moments.”
Dua motioned to a door to their right. “She will see you there.”
That seemed to be all he was willing to say, and Talon grunted, realizing that was all he was going to get. Giving the large warrior an annoyed look, he took a right, and pushing the doors, entered the room.
“Princess?”
She stood with her back to him. The chamber wasn’t large, but it oddly reminded him of his own library on his estate in Britain. The high ceiling and heavy carpets made the room feel cumbersome, especially as one could peer out the window and see the desert.
He swiftly approached Kahlia. Reaching out, he gently rested a hand on her elbow, turning her so she faced him. “I thought I made it clear I would speak to your father at first chance.”
She faced him, a certain stiffness to her expression. Her lashes fluttered as she glanced at the hand that rested on her elbow. “My father? And what were you going to speak with him about?”
He blinked, taken aback by her stiff expression. “Our engagement, of course.”
Reaching out, he took her hand in his. “After last night, did we not agree it was the best choice?”
Last night? Bird thought back. It was hard searching through her memories for the woman who’d eagerly embraced this man before her. Even now, two sides within her warred. One, who’d been infatuated with a prince, and the other, who’d been tortured by a prince. Who was the true owner of this body of hers?
The low light in the room they occupied made his eyes shine slightly. She could accept and feign ignorance and simply spend her day locked in battle with herself. Bird let these thoughts ruminate in her mind for a mere second before another darker desire reared its head.
Revenge.
A desire for it surmounted everything else within her. She wanted him to feel her pain. Her desperation, what she’d felt in that garden not so long ago. What once had been a fond memory of possibilities had turned into a hellish memory filled with regrets. She wasn’t above such petty thoughts.
She wanted revenge not only against him but also his cowardly brother who’d dragged him into the farce game. So, with those thoughts and those emotions, she responded. “I didn’t believe you would do it,” she spoke aloud, her lips quirking into a smile. “I hoped that within you remained some form of goodness.”
Confused at her words, Talon slowly released her hand. “Bird?”
She drew her hand away from his and let it rest against her side as she continued to speak. “When did you become so kind, sire?”
The implication of her words brought swift realization. Talon’s eyes widened as he retreated a step. His voice taut, he reluctantly spoke aloud. “You-your memories?”
Bird nodded, unable to withhold her amusement at his shock. “My memories? Yes, they’ve been retur
ned to me. It seems my mother sought to purge me of any thoughts of marriage with you.” Her eyes flashed purple for only a second before they dimmed into the familiar brown once again. “It worked. I’ve lost all desire to be engaged to you.”
Talon was astonished by her words. He hadn’t once believed her memories would return. No, in truth he’d counted on it. He’d prayed that she would remain ignorant and now she stood cold-eyed and smiling before him.
She wore the same mask he’d earnestly wished to break a thousand times over. Regaining his composure, he realized there was nothing left for him to do aside from explain. “And if I were to tell you that it wasn’t out of some twisted plan that I approached you, would you believe me?”
Could she believe him? Bird mulled over his words. She knew it’d been her who’d been drawn to him. Really, why wouldn’t she be? He was handsome, the golden prince that all of Britain worshiped. Her master could easily capture the heart of a young woman’s imagination. Still, she didn’t wish to give him even that. “Should I believe you? Are you not the same man who ripped a gown from my body, stretched me over your desk, and claimed your rights?”
He blanched at her words.
She approached him, her eyes searching his face. “I endured your touch, your scrutiny and your hate, and when I thought I had found an escape in death, you even managed to pull me from that.” Her eyes grew red from withholding tears, her voice wasn’t above a whisper. “If I cannot escape you with death, then it seems I must forcibly rip apart our fates here.”
“Bird…”
She reached up and gently pressed her hand against his cold cheek. He was powerful, and he was her first… in everything, but… “I have never once held you in my heart.”
Her words cause more pain than anything else she could have done. She smiled as she continued to speak from her hate. “You’ve always known this. The one who truly held place there was never you…”
“Enough!” His hand jerked up and grabbed her wrist, his eyes bright with pain. His hold on her wrist was painful, but Bird did not flinch. “Enough,” he repeated. “I knew who you professed to love, who you desired. I’ve known, and since my coming here, I’ve tried to remain apart from you.” He searched her empty expression, searching for something, anything to give him hope, but he found nothing. “But I could not.”
“Why couldn’t you?!” Bird demanded, her expression changing to one of anger. “Was it not enough that you’ve marred my past, but that you now wish to mar my future?!”
They stared at each other for a long moment. Talon had more he wished to say. He wished to speak of his pain and realization of his love. He wished to deny her accusation that he’d merely wished to make her leave Cawell of her own free will. That he’d spent his entire life surrounded by those who merely wished to use him. She’d been the first one to stand up to him, the first one to deny any interest in him.
Yet, as he stared into her angry eyes, he felt it was useless for him to explain himself. He would never be seen as more than a monster in her eyes. A title rightfully earned, but a title he had worked hard to earn.
He released her wrist and drew back. Reclaiming the posture of a prince, he stepped away from her. His hands by his side, he gave a stiff bow before rising. “I swear upon my noble name, Talon of Britannia, that I will never approach you again. Not in this lifetime or the next.”
At his words, Bird’s heart lurched. Though she didn’t outwardly show it, she felt confusion at his sudden coolness. He faced her now with the face she’d seen him use at the very first ball she’d ever been brought to. Stiff, pleasant… and cold, he met her gaze. “I wish only that you’ll be happy in the future.”
Bird spoke before she could stop herself. “If it weren’t for our past, I would have allowed your claim. A part of me feel’s saddened,” she hardened her voice, “but that’s still only a part of me.”
He stared at her silently for a moment before giving a jerky nod, and with that, he turned on his heel and quickly vacated the room. Bird watched him go, her hand still raised in the air, and realizing it, she reached out to his retreating back. She took a single step forward. “Princess.”
She paused. Lowering her hand, she glanced over her shoulder towards Dua. “Yes?”
“Your mother wishes for you to come to the temple.”
Bird fully faced Dua. If her mother wished to see her, she probably wished to know if Bird had spoken with Talon yet. A humorless smile came to her lips. Why was her mother so eager for her to deny him? It wasn’t like her mother had endured his handling, or the rejection Bird had to face.
In truth, Bird didn’t wish to see her. Her mother had returned her memories out of selfish desire. Her memories she’d suppressed now weighed upon her mind, giving a dark cast to all she saw.
“I will see her,” she said as she walked past Dua towards the door in the back of the room. “I should at least hear what she wishes to say.”
Dua followed her out, where they were joined by a small retinue of soldiers. As they walked along the hall towards the southern gate, Bird felt as if she was seeing her surroundings for the first time. The bright sun bouncing off the blooming flowers that shined as if they were brushed with dew. The smell of water from the pond in the center cast her thoughts to her past.
“Has he left the castle gates?”
Dua, knowing to who she referred, answered immediately. “Yes, princess.”
She simply nodded. She refused to believe she was saddened by his departure. It was only right that he left. The fact that she’d sought him out and felt safe by his presence was laughable. One needed a reason to desire another; what reason did she have to desire Talon? As they passed the garden, they paused at the exit where Fi awaited with a shawl that was sewn with golden thread and relics art. “Mistress, Consort Osis wished me to urge you to wear this before you come to the temple.”
Bird stared down at the shawl. If she recalled correctly, the shawl was one she’d often gone without. Her alternate self had yearned for freedom, had chased it without thought, but Bird knew sometimes the price for freedom was far more than one was truly willing to pay. Reaching out, she took the shawl and allowed Fi to help her wear it.
“How do I look?” she asked, her somber eyes meeting Fi.
She looked heartbroken, but Fi couldn’t utter those words aloud. She instead smiled and said, “Like a true Princess of Katari.”
“Good, then I’ll return shortly.”
Fi quickly stepped out of the way of the soldiers as they followed the princess out, her gaze somber. Her princess, the one who had loudly protested wearing dresses and shawls, the one who’d disguised herself and skipped lessons, had seemingly disappeared. As she watched Kahlia be settled onto her sedan, men grabbing hold of the four rods, they grunted as they lifted it on their shoulders. She bowed at their departure, tightly closing her eyes as tears left them.
Chapter Two
The temple was that of R’or’s son, Octin. The first-born child of his second wife, he’d been heroic in his feats of battle and magical power. His temple was in the north of town. At the highest hill, it rested with white stone washed walls and an opened roof that revealed a pool below.
Those who revered magic and the arts of war often came here to pray for their sons to pass the exams to make them great warriors. The sedan lowered and Bird dismounted, grabbing hold of Dua’s hand. She lightly stepped forward, her eyes taking in the large structure. She turned and glanced at the awe-inspiring view of Katari below. The smoke rising from the houses below, the sea stretched out as far as the eye could see, disappearing into the expansive sky.
Turning around, she gave a short nod to Dua. Releasing his hand, she made her way inside. The steps were made of black marble, a stark contrast to the white outer walls. Entering, she felt chilly air brush her skin. Dua and the other soldiers all knelt at the door. All soldiers showed respect in this way to Octin.
Bird continued further inside. The pathway had been made of diff
erent colored stones creating pictures of stars and blooming lotus flowers. The maidens who tended the grounds were denoted by the yellow color of their sari. She gave short nods to those she’d passed.
Her eyes were focused on her mother, who knelt before the large statue of Octin’s mother. It was a bronze statue that held a mysterious smile as it held in its right palm an opened book, denoting learning, and behind its back, it raised a short sword, and in its left hand, it held a babe. Octin’s mother, R’or’s second wife, had been known to be the brightest child, even over her brothers.
“She wasn’t supposed to be the one who married him,” her mother said. “He’d just lost the woman he truly loved and had lost another battle with her killer.” Her mother slowly stood with the help of one of the servants. “She found him after and healed him. Though she loved him on sight, he cared for her only as he would a sister.”
The servant handed her lit incense. The smoke curled, reflecting in the mirror that rested in the center of the altar that held candles and jars of scented perfumes gifted by those who worshiped at the temple. Fruit was also there, cut into shapes of jewels. “He grew to love her as she journeyed with him in his effort to free those oppressed by the magic users.”
Bird, who’d stopped at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the altar, frowned. “Is this why you called me? To tell me a story?”
“A story?” her mother repeated, setting the burning incense down in a silver dish. “I do not tell a tale, but our history.”
“A history I’ve learned from Fadi,” Bird repeated. Slowly, she made her way up the steps. When she arrived on the landing, her mother turned and faced her. “I wonder what makes you desire to retell me.”
