“Mask your lust or leave now, Miruna. This isn’t the time or place,” King Fain snapped. The scent instantly vanished as Miruna flushed a deep red. She kept her gaze on Damiano, though, making certain he hadn’t missed the invitation to her bed. He’d gotten the message loud and clear and was only slightly surprised she’d let it be known while in the king’s presence. He ignored her and faced the king.
“Your Majesty.” He bowed slightly.
“Were you not to bring a companion with you, Paladin Primero?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I left Paladin Cortez behind at Base Camp to look into an incident that occurred while we were there. Unfortunately, I was not able to conclude my investigation before I had to leave to journey here to the palace for my presentation to Your Majesty.”
“Did the orders I sent not include those of Paladin Cortez’s as well?” The king frowned at Damiano but cocked his head to the side quizzically.
Damiano halted what he was going to say before it came out of his mouth. Before leaving Chino behind, they’d discussed the consequences of him disobeying the king’s orders.
“They did, Your Majesty. I determined that the threat to Your Majesty was great enough that it would be best to make sure it was investigated immediately and thoroughly. Since I couldn’t stay behind, I left Paladin Cortez. He’s a trustworthy man and loyal to a fault.”
The king looked down at him, his face serious. “Tell me of this threat to me, Primero Satriale.”
“Yes, tell His Majesty of this threat, Primero. Why wasn’t this brought to our attention the moment you arrived at the palace?” Miruna added.
Damiano bristled at her tone. The truth was, he had no idea what was going on out at Base Camp and whom he could trust. There was obviously something very wrong in the ranks of the askari, including with Takemoto, Captain Bennett’s second in command. Though it had only been half a day since his separation from Chino, he was itching to find out if he’d made any progress in what the hell happened to Askari Nelson. He ignored Miruna and addressed the king.
“Paladin Cortez hit a cheetah in the road on the way to Base Camp, Your Majesty. We scented shifter on the air and when we chased him out into the desert to render aid, he died before we could seek help. After we brought him to Base Camp for his pyre, we noticed injuries which were inconsistent with the car accident. Later, we went to the medical examiner’s office to examine him further only to find that someone had attacked the doctors and stolen his body. And as for why I didn’t bring this to your attention immediately upon my arrival at the palace, I was told that you were hunting with your paladin.”
The king’s eyes widened and he glanced over at Miruna before glancing back to him. “That is true. Tell me… this theft of the askari’s body happened within the compound?”
Damiano nodded. “Yes, Sire.”
“And you’re sure these injuries were inconsistent with those of the accident?”
“Yes, Sire.”
The king thought for a moment and Miruna opened her mouth to speak again when he lifted his hand to stop her. Damiano noticed several large rings on the king’s fingers as she shut her mouth. The king pinned him with an intelligent stare.
“It seems you did the right thing then, Satriale. There are no other shifter colonies in the area of Base Camp where he could have come from. We understand the type of threat this may pose. Indeed, if some of my askari are closing ranks to hide the body of one of their own, this does not bode well. Please let us know what Paladin Cortez reports back to you.”
Damiano bowed his head and lifted his palm to flatten it over his heart. “I will let Your Majesty know what I find the moment I know, but pray thee, if it favors the king, I would like to return to Base Camp to complete the investigation.”
“No,” the king said sharply. “You are needed to stay by my side. If your Paladin Cortez is as skilled and intelligent a warrior as you seem to think, Primero, he will find out soon enough.”
Damiano bowed deeply. Fuck. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“You’ve found your accommodations to your liking, Satriale?”
Damiano glanced over his shoulder at Paget who stood waiting at the back of the room before looking back at the king and nodding.
“Thanks to your first subaltern, more than suitable, Your Majesty. I am grateful.”
The king glanced over his shoulder to his mate before looking back at Damiano.
“Yes, Paget is nothing if not efficient in running my palace. Now, let’s get on with your presentation.” The king glanced aside at one of the paladin who stood close and nodded. The man stepped forward after darting a sideways glance at Damiano and held open a square velvet box. The king reached inside and withdrew a linked chain in shining gold. A medallion hung from the end of it and when the king motioned for Damiano to step forward, he immediately did, bending to one knee at his ruler’s feet as the king stood and walked down the two steps surrounding his throne. He walked forward until he was standing in front of Damiano in his long flowing velvet crimson robe.
“Rise, Paladin Primero.”
Damiano did as he was told, rising to his full height which dwarfed the king by only an inch. He had other questions to ask such as where was Captain Stevens of the paladin guard. He had returned with the rest of the king’s hunting party so the man should be present but he was nowhere to be seen. In any case, he turned his attention back to the king and bowed his head as the king slipped the chain over his head and then adjusted the medallion on his chest.
“With this medallion, I declare Damiano Satriale to be my newest Paladin Primero. May you serve this house well, my knight.”
Damiano sank to his knee again and reached for the hand covered in rings. He grasped it in both hands and drew it to his lips where he kissed it, being careful to redouble the cloak he’d put up to mask his royal blood as he took the king’s hand. Somewhere in the line of succession to the throne, he was related to King Fain but in order to stay alive, that could be known to no one but him, Chino, and now Paget.
“I will serve thee and act as your champion always, Sire,” Damiano murmured.
“Let it be so,” the king said.
Damiano nodded again and then glanced at Miruna before looking back at the king. He gave one final nod and let go of the king’s hand, glancing down as he stepped backward away from the dais and then backed up another twenty-five feet before turning on his heel to escape the throne room with all due haste.
****
Paget watched the primero take his vows as he kneeled before the king. When Satriale turned around and spotted him, he moved behind one of the many tapestries which hung from floor to ceiling in the king’s massive throne room. Miruna’s reaction to the king’s champion was predictable. All the servants whispered that she’d fallen into King Fain’s bed well before his last queen lay dying on her child bed.
Paget had never liked the king’s councilor. Her duty was to assist the king in navigating court intrigues and to counsel him through decisions he had to make for his people when asked. Unfortunately for all of them, she tended to encourage the king whenever he doled out seemingly random and harsh punishments, doing nothing to mitigate gossip and hearsay evidence against those accused, sometimes of minor offenses. The king relentlessly pursued any hint of gossip among his loyal subjects and either matched them in the pit to fight or disappeared them into who knew where. Paget had worked at the palace for six years and he still hadn’t seen all of it.
When he’d first arrived at the palace and taken his position as subaltern, he’d not been allowed anywhere near the king’s chambers or throne room. He’d seen Pasha Raab, the Tiger King, only a handful of times before the coup that unseated him, but when he had, he’d been impressed by what a good man he was. His beautiful queen, Sancerre, was always kind to Paget during their chance encounters and he’d been a devoted servant as he’d risen through the palace ranks. On the one occasion Paget had seen the king and queen together, the deep and abiding love they’
d had for each other had been obvious. Though there hadn’t yet been an heir, their devotion to each other had promised one would soon be forthcoming.
Then, the worst had happened. Five years before, the palace had been overrun with a rogue band of cats in shifted form. Though Paget had heard it all secondhand from other servants due to being bedridden with illness, he’d cried when told of the details. The king had been taken to the pit, challenged by his former paladin primero, and had fallen. Queen Sancerre had escaped and then word had come back to the palace which confirmed she’d died of heartbreak in exile. Rumor had been that the primero’s attempted coup was to steal the throne, thinking the king had no living heir. Unfortunately, he’d been proven wrong when King Fain had appeared and proven his lineage to the court who had never known he existed before then. The primero was executed in the pit and left to rot, his body treated as a traitor with no pyre or ritual cleansing after death. It was harsh treatment for any shifter to whom funeral rites were considered sacred and necessary.
From behind the wall hanging, Paget watched the new primero—Damiano Satriale—take his rightful place with the ceremony, but he’d also witnessed him dismiss Miruna’s invitation to her bed. For some reason, that gave Paget an incredible sense of satisfaction. Perhaps because nature had been unkind enough to present him with a brutal mate after all these years. However, there was one problem with that description. Damiano Satriale was anything but brutal from what Paget could sense when they touched.
Certainly, he’d killed many people. Paget had realized that the moment he’d met him. Paladins were warriors after all. For Satriale to become the primero meant that he was called to that service by the king himself and Paget was smart enough to realize that the king would want only the fiercest knight at his side as his champion. He’d be expected to protect him from men like the primero who’d usurped Pasha Raab’s throne, not to mention outside threats. Of course, it was rare that rogue factions of shifters dared attack the royal family, but nevertheless, the threat did exist. Paget realized that the last thing a champion like Damiano Satriale would ever let happen, was a coup, even with those scary Damascus blades. The man simply frightened the hell out of anyone who looked at him… anyone but Paget.
He still couldn’t believe how he’d treated the primero. The moment Paget realized that they were mates, his entire demeanor had changed. He’d behaved so badly, he knew if Satriale had called for his head, it would have been forfeit and well-deserved. That happening was probably a tiny possibility anyway. No way would a mated cat let anyone near his mate, be he servant or not. And wasn’t that just something? Paget had ended up with a mate who was in the highest of classes—royalty—though it was obvious that was Satriale’s huge secret, not the fact that his mate was a palace subordinate or subaltern, which was just a fancier name for servant.
The fact that Damiano Satriale even had royal blood running through his veins was the real mystery and secret here. Paget calculated. The only way that could have happened would be that a member of the royal family had mated with someone who was not of his station. It kind of made sense. Satriale was probably the bastard son of some married and mated royal though as far as anyone knew, no others existed. It had been a shock to everyone when Christos Fain and his vibration proved him to be royalty. Still… how did Satriale possess royal blood? Affairs were common among the royalty, though as soon as the child was found, he or she was summarily executed. Paget had to wonder how Satriale ever grew to maturity. Once he shifted, his vibration would have given him away. That meant that he’d either shifted alone for the first time and realized what he was, or that whoever had been with him at his first shift, had been devoted to him and determined to keep his secret. It was most likely a parent but there was no use in speculating.
Paget and Satriale were doomed as a mated pair the moment they’d been conceived. In the large cat shifter world, each person had only one unique mate assigned by nature. Mated pairs of different classes lived lives of celibacy, generally separating themselves—at great distress to them both—by continents. It was better that way. Each could go on with their lives without fear of being executed if anyone found out. Nature had seen fit to dump Satriale in the palace with him, and if it got too difficult to be breathing the same air, Paget would have to leave. It was the only answer. The possibility that they could be together without anyone finding out was slim. And didn’t that just hurt Paget’s heart more than he would admit? Fuck my life.
After the king dismissed his new paladin primero, Satriale bowed low and spun on his heel, glancing toward the place where Paget had been standing. Paget ducked back behind the wall hanging and waited for several seconds. When he heard the primero’s boots on the floor, he poked his head back out. His mate had turned away and was making his way to the door with a fluid animal stride that did surprising things to Paget every time he saw it. Large cat shifters were almost universally beautiful in human form, from the lowliest servant wench to the man who sat on the throne, but there was something special about watching his mate that Paget didn’t think he’d ever tire of. He moved with a grace which he’d seen in no other cat and at the same time, Paget knew he would be deadly in cat form.
Remembering Rahnnie’s comments to him, he began to wonder what kind of shifter his mate was. Surely, he was handsome in that form as well. The chance that he would end up being a tiger was very high. Not only did he have the hair coloring for it, but in the royal family, all were tigers. Unless Satriale’s royal parent had mated with another species, chances were, he was a tiger. Besides, it was said that royal genes were the strongest of all.
Paget shook himself out of his musings as Satriale strode out of the throne room. He’d already spent way too much time staring at his mate and had work of his own to do. He spun on his heel and exited the room through the servant’s entrance, running down the narrow stone stairs to the kitchen to make sure everything was ready for the massive banquet the king had ordered to honor his new paladin primero.
Chapter Seven
A s he exited the throne room, Damiano was already pulling his phone out of his garments and unbuttoning the red frog at his collar so he could breathe. He headed back the way Paget had taken him, having memorized the path to his own chamber beside the king’s. He’d spent years training his memory along with just about everything else to give him an edge over his enemy. Damiano considered his training a priority since he held other’s lives in his hands. It was a sworn duty to him.
By the time he got to the door of his chamber, the phone was ringing. He wasn’t sure Chino was in a place where he could pick up but he was hopeful. After revealing his concerns to the king and Miruna with others listening, he was determined to find out what his best friend had learned. He waved the key card over the lock on his door and he breathed out a sigh of relief when Chino answered.
“Hey. I was gonna call but I didn’t know the right time,” his friend said.
“I just met with the king and his councilor. I’m back in my chambers and they’re soundproofed so I can finally talk.” Damiano put the phone on speaker and laid it on the bed. He grasped the Damascus blades and removed them, setting the sheaths on the bed so he could get to the rest of the annoying clothes he’d had to put on for his ceremony.
“How did it go? Meeting with the big kahuna?”
Damiano grinned as he removed the medallion and laid it on the bed table. Then, he shucked the silver jacket, happy to be able to get to his shoulder holster and the two .45s beneath. Removing the guns, he turned his face back to the phone.
“It was fine. King Fain was as expected, full of himself. His councilor, Miruna Grey, is sleeping with him and made a pass at me.”
“The usual, then.”
Damiano snorted. “Pretty much. I told him about Askari Nelson’s body disappearing and he wanted me to get on it right away.”
“Do you think that was smart? I mean, what if someone in the court is in on the disappearance of Nelson’s body? I mean chanc
es are it’s an isolated thing but…”
“Believe me, that thought crossed my mind. I just thought I’d stir things up and see what reaction I’d get.”
“Really? Does that mean you have leave to come back here?”
Damiano frowned. The tone of Chino’s voice was hopeful but there was something else. Concern?
“No. He shut me down. He told me that since I had enough faith in you to leave you out there against orders to report to court, you should handle it.”
“Oh, fuck. I’m dead,” Chino growled.
Damiano walked over to his still-unpacked bags and zipped one open, quickly locating a clean black muscle shirt and jeans.
“You’re not dead, asswipe. I explained that I was following my instincts and he forgave the trespass but if anyone from the palace shows up out of the blue, you need to take that visit seriously.”
“Noted.”
“So, give me a report.” Damiano yanked the long-sleeved undershirt over his head and pulled the muscle tee on before stooping to remove his boots. The desire to get out of his ceremonial slacks and back into jeans was overwhelming.
“As far as I can tell, Captain Bennett is clean. She was really surprised that anything was going on out here but she’s in agreement that no one would just come in and steal Nelson’s body if they didn’t have a damned good reason. We’re in agreement that whoever did it, didn’t want his injuries to be documented and presented at court.”
“So, who is it? How can an askari vanish for several days without anyone knowing and if Takemoto isn’t involved, why would he tell Bennett that Nelson was only now missing from his bed?”
The Tiger King (Paladin Shifters Book 1) Page 8
