Broken Dove

by Kristen Ashley

  The dress was sleeveless so I wore long, bronze satin gloves that fit tight up to my mid-upper arm. My feet were covered in flat green velvet slippers with a thick suede sole and topaz beading at the pointed toe.

  My makeup was heavy, smoky and fabulous (Loretta’s doing).

  And the neckline of the dress was so perfect I needed no jewelry at my throat. But Loretta gave me emerald and topaz chandelier earrings to put in my ears as Meeta linked chain after chain of emerald and topaz bracelets around my right wrist.

  And last, my hair was swept loosely back to a smooth but large, lovely chignon Meeta fastened at the nape of my neck then, on each side close to the bun, she slid in extravagant combs that had ends which were large sprays of emeralds and topaz that glittered against my hair.

  I had not, for some reason, perused the entirety of the jewelry collection Apollo had given me. But once my girls had outfitted me, I decided to rectify this error at my earliest convenience.

  That said, it gave me a niggle of unease, for it was very clear not only the dress and shoes, but especially the jewelry, were costly and it was yet another thing that Apollo gave me that made me feel strange. Like our relationship was lopsided—he the giver, me the taker.

  But I didn’t have time to think on that too much either, what with my transformation from just me to Glamor Girl Me.

  And Apollo liked Glamor Girl Me.

  And as ever, when Apollo liked something, I liked that.

  I pressed closer, put my cheek to his shoulder and admitted, “Every time I look at you, I think your beauty is unsurpassed.”

  He clearly thought this was amusing and I knew this when his arm gave me a squeeze and he chuckled.

  “I’m being serious,” I told him, tipping my head back to look at his jaw. He looked down at me, still smiling, and I went on. “The best, though, is when you’re with your kids. I don’t know exactly what it is, but there’s something seriously gorgeous about a hot guy being a loving dad.”

  He stopped smiling at my words, his arm tightened further so he could pull me up as his head came down and he did this so he could kiss me hard.

  And also wet.

  Totally ruining my lip gloss, I was sure (yes, they had lip gloss here, and all kinds of makeup; the containers and applicators were a bit rough, but it worked).

  I didn’t care even a little bit. Lip gloss could be fixed. It would be a crime if that kiss had been missed.

  When he lifted his head, I blurted, “I’ve no clue how to dance.”

  That got me his smile back and he relaxed his arm so I could again relax into his side as he looked ahead. “Matters not. I detest dancing and don’t do it. So if others invite you to the floor, I’ll be there to ward them off.”

  Thank God.

  One thing on my list of things to fret about that night that I could tick off.

  “Maddie, please remember what I told you this morning.”

  I stifled a sigh.

  Before we left bed to have breakfast with the kids (and after, for me to hang with them outside while they did their thing and Apollo went off to do Apollo things), he’d been very clear about how tonight was going to go. As in very clear, giving bossy orders and pressing me to promise (out loud) to heed them.

  “I remember,” I told him.

  “The men are already there, except Laures, who follows this sleigh. You will not see any of them all night. But they’ll always be close.”

  I put my cheek back to his shoulder and nodded, knowing, for whatever reason, he had to reiterate himself so I was going to let him do it.

  “I am not out of your sight the entire evening,” he continued.

  I made a mental note not to drink too much, thus necessitating the chamber pot, and snaked my arm across his belly in order to give him a squeeze to indicate I heard and understood.

  “And this means you are never far so, if needs be, I’ll be at your side within seconds.”

  “It’s going to be okay, honey,” I assured him quietly.

  He said nothing.

  I again tipped my head to look at his jaw. “You have a bad feeling,” I guessed.

  “We’re in Brunskar,” he told the horses, not giving me his eyes.

  I cuddled into him again, aiming my eyes at the castle and this time I said nothing because, seriously, we were in Brunskar and I was getting that that was enough said.

  I watched the castle get closer and closer and spent the time I did doing my best to hold back the foreboding that got greater when suddenly, Apollo spoke.

  “Do you love wearing that gown as much as I love seeing you in it?”

  There it was again.

  And I liked it again.

  He didn’t like my gown. He didn’t even seriously like my gown.

  He loved it.

  And I loved that.

  So much, it made me feel squishy inside, but still, I answered hesitantly, “Uh…I think so.”

  “I hope so, my poppy. I hope you love wearing it very much. Enough to make wearing it worth whatever comes this night.”

  Oh boy.

  “Just to say, you’re freaking me out,” I shared.

  “Good,” he replied immediately. “This means you’ll remain aware and cautious.”

  “Now you’re really freaking me out,” I told him.

  “Excellent,” he stated. “This means you’ll remain really aware and cautious.”

  I decided to shut up and continue my freak out in silence.

  And I did this while I watched the castle get closer.

  * * * * *

  Within half an hour of being at the gale, I learned a number of things.

  One was that Houses had colors. This was why Karsvall was decorated in a lot of greens, browns and golds, because those were Apollo’s House’s colors. And this was why anyone who was at the ball who belonged to a House was wearing matching colors to their mate, like I was with Apollo. And I learned this because Apollo whispered it to me when I asked him what the deal was with that.

  I also learned that the inside of the castle of Brunskar was way creepier than the outside. In fact, it was so creepy, it was a miracle of creepiness.

  This was because the colors of the House of Drakkar were blood red and black and they decorated liberally in both. It looked like the home of Dracula’s way more evil brother. The one they couldn’t write books about because he’d scare the beejeezus out of even the most hardcore horror fan.

  I further learned that the Drakkar’s didn’t like light. At least not inside. The outside was lit like they were hoping to make it seen from space. Once I’d hit the gloomy inside, I figured this was because they wanted it seen, and feared.

  But inside, although there were tons of people milling about, it still had only the minimum of lamps and candles lit to help guide your way.

  And last, I learned that Apollo and Draven were right.

  Quickly upon arrival, Apollo found Calder Drakkar and his wife Melba to give them his greetings and introduce them to me.

  Incongruous to the surroundings which were her home, Melba was sweet with kind eyes, and when we met, she gave me a cheek touch. Calder was very handsome and only showed a moment of shock when he looked at me before he hid it and lifted my hand to touch his lips to my knuckles. We chatted with them briefly, it was warm and welcoming, then Apollo let them go so they could see to their other guests.

  Shortly thereafter, he found Garik Drakkar who was also very handsome and who also only allowed a brief moment of his surprise to show before he hid it and lifted my hand to his lips.

  He and Apollo spent much more time talking. Through this, I noted they might not have been best buds but they clearly had respect and regard for each other. Both men smoothly included me in the conversation in a way that I knew, if given time, I would have respect and regard for Garik too.

  But after Garik moved away, Apollo wasted no time moving me through the crowd and pointing out the other Drakkars, noting the ones I should be most wary of.

&n
bsp; He didn’t have to.

  The minute I laid eyes on them, I knew it. I hadn’t lived with Pol for years not to be able to read evil.

  “Kristian,” he’d muttered, having given me a glass of champagne he’d grabbed off a passing tray and drawn me toward a wall with a vantage point to most of the enormous ballroom.

  He’d turned my attention to another somewhat good-looking man (though, not nearly as handsome as Calder and Garik).

  Kristian Drakkar.

  “Frey’s cousin, brother to Franka,” Apollo went on “He’s not near as clever as the rest, and thus is often a target for all. But even the most simpleminded of animals, if they have claws, will strike when they’ve been played with enough.”

  Apollo turned me slightly and gave an almost imperceptible jerk of his head toward an older man who had Drakkar written all over him. A man I knew at a glance I would not like, mostly because my flesh started to crawl the instant I laid eyes on him.

  “Eirik,” Apollo stated. “Frey’s father. He’s vain and vulgar. At his side is Valeria, Frey’s mother.”

  I turned my attention to her. She was older but still very beautiful.

  And she knew it. Yes, it was that obvious that I could read it across the room.

  Apollo kept talking.

  “She, too, is vain. She’s also greedy. And lastly, she’s conniving.” He moved closer to me and dipped his head so his lips were at my ear. “If they conspire, it will have been her idea.”

  I nodded and he lifted his head but shifted me slightly.

  “If you look about the room, you’ll see a woman in a dress not fitting society. Her eyes are on you,” he stated.

  I scanned the room and found her.

  Her eyes were, indeed, on me.

  And I knew, of all of them, she was the one to watch out for.

  I looked quickly away, hiding it by taking a sip of champagne.

  “Franka,” Apollo said. “Vain. Debauched. Unscrupulous. Calculating. Heartless and tirelessly cruel. Avoid her at all costs, my dove.”

  He didn’t have to tell me that. I knew it the instant I laid eyes on her.

  “Right,” I murmured.

  He moved to stand in front of me so I lifted my eyes to his.

  “I must approach Eirik and Valeria but I do not want you at my side when I do.”

  “I’ll be okay,” I told him.

  He studied me for a moment and his voice was soft when he replied, “I believe you will. I still don’t want you at my side. Ravenscroft is here. He’s an acquaintance I trust. I will leave you with him. Before I do that, I’ll explain I need to have words with Frey’s parents and that I’m loath for them to meet you, but wish to remain close to you.” He dipped his head to mine. “Your appearance, poppy, he’ll understand and take care of you.”

  He needed to do what he needed to do and not have me argue about it with him, even though I didn’t want him anywhere near those people without me. So I let it go and nodded.

  He took me to Ravenscroft, a tall, slim, dashing older man with kindly eyes who we chatted with briefly before Apollo leaned in and spoke quietly in his ear.

  Ravenscroft looked Eirik and Valeria’s way, then back to Apollo. He nodded and turned to me.

  “My dear, why don’t we get you something to eat?” he asked.

  I looked to the tables filled with food. They were between us and Eirik and Valeria, the perfect spot for us to be occupied doing something it would seem natural to do, but me not being out of eyesight of Apollo while doing it.

  “I’d like that,” I said, taking the arm he was offering. “I’m famished.”

  Apollo caught my eyes as we moved away and I smiled at him.

  His lips curved up, his face got soft and then he looked to the Drakkars and the softness vanished.

  I’d lied about being famished, of course. My stomach was in knots. But I did my best not to show it as Ravenscroft (his first name was Norfolk), guided me around the food tables, sharing with me his favorite nibbles, all of which I tried.

  And when I did, I decided it sucked my stomach was in knots because if I wasn’t in a creepy castle with icky people all around, I knew I would find them all tasty.

  I was thinking that when Norfolk put his hand to my elbow and squeezed.

  “Come away,” he whispered urgently, his mouth suddenly at my ear.

  I turned to look up at him in surprise, infinitely aware and cautious, as Apollo’s warnings and creepy castles made me be, and his sudden demand concerned me.

  My eyes slid to Apollo, who was talking with Eirik (an Eirik who was staring beyond Apollo even though Apollo was speaking to him, and when I glanced, I saw it was at a woman’s décolletage) and Valeria, whose attention was pinpointed on Apollo, her expression giving me a chill.

  I looked back at Norfolk, who was putting pressure on my arm.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to remain here,” I told him.

  “Then remain close,” he told me, fairly yanking me to his side, his eyes not on me but over my shoulder.

  I looked there just as Franka Drakkar murmured a purring, “Norfolk.”

  But her eyes were on me.

  Oh boy.

  Here we go.

  I straightened my shoulders.

  “Who do we have here?” She kept purring before Norfolk could return her greeting.

  “Franka,” Norfolk stated tersely. “This is Lady Madeleine. Madeleine,”—he looked down at me—“I present Franka Drakkar, cousin to Calder.”

  “Cousin to The Frey,” she corrected, an edge to her voice, her meaning clear. She had that powerful connection; she was not to be trifled with.

  Frey was known as The Frey and The Drakkar. The first meant he commanded the elves, the second, dragons.

  In other words, a very powerful connection.

  “And cousin to Frey Drakkar,” Norfolk bit out, humanizing Frey and telling her, I guessed, to go fuck herself.

  “Lovely to meet you,” I murmured into the exchange, deciding to be rude and not offer my hand.

  “Oh, agreed,” she whispered in a way that I could swear sounded suggestive.

  “We’re to dance,” Norfolk declared and that was a good gambit to get us away from this obviously vile woman but still, my heart lurched.

  I wanted to get away from her but I’d seen the dancing. They weren’t swaying to rock ballads (which I could do, no sweat) or waltzing a basic box step (which I could try to do and might have a small chance of not making a fool of myself doing it). No, each dance had steps, some seemed complicated, but it wouldn’t matter because I knew none of them.

  Franka’s eyes moved to Norfolk. “But I’ve just met this lovely specimen,” she protested. Her gaze came back and at the wicked look in her dancing eyes, I felt my neck get tight. “Or have I? You seem very familiar.”

  Bitch.

  “She is of Ilsa’s blood,” Norfolk put in curtly.

  “Of her blood or is her blood?” Franka asked, not looking from me, her voice saccharine sweet.

  “A distant cousin,” Norfolk stated like he’d rather have acid poured on his skin than continue the conversation but clearly he was momentarily stuck by good(ish) manners as Franka was refusing to let us go.

  “Not that distant,” she replied, keeping her gaze glued to me. “Ulfr seems smitten, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at that.”

  Total bitch.

  “What surprises me,” Norfolk started firmly, “is that you’ve noted she has Ulfr’s arm and yet you approach with claws bared. You’re craftier than that, Franka, surely.”

  “Oh dear,” she put her hand to her spilling cleavage and I was a girl who figured if you had it, you should flaunt it. That said, you shouldn’t expose it. “Have I been rude?”

  It was safe to say I was done with this.

  “No, you’ve been reckless,” I told her.

  But I didn’t stop there.

  It was maybe stupid but seriously, my life hadn’t been all that great (until rec
ently) and I didn’t need to put up with catty bullshit. In fact, no one ever needed to put up with catty bullshit.

  “Yes, I am aware I very closely resemble Apollo’s sadly deceased wife, unfortunately for you, as you clearly wish you could have drawn blood by imparting that wisdom. But as you’ve noted and Ravenscroft confirmed, I have Apollo’s arm. So I must admit, I’m disappointed. I’ve heard a bit about you and thought you were far cleverer than instigating a thinly veiled frontal attack. One I can assure you Apollo won’t need me to inform him of since he’s quite protective of me and is no doubt watching this exchange. And I would suppose you also already know that this exchange is one which will displease him greatly.”

  Her expression showed excitement as she tipped her head and asked, “Is that an invitation to instigate a different kind of attack?”

  “Do as you wish,” I returned. “However, you should know, I find games tedious and tend not to play them.”

  “Now that I find unfortunate,” she replied on a venomous grin which stated plainly she didn’t care if I was going to play or not.

  She was.

  “And that I find unsurprising,” I retorted. “You’re obvious. Which means, if I did intend to engage in such diversions, I would hardly choose to do it with you. If you’re going to spend time in such pursuits, it should be worth it, not an easily bested challenge.”

  Norfolk’s hand still on my arm squeezed and he let out a strangled noise that sounded like a smothered laugh.

  Franka’s eyes narrowed.

  “I think you mistake me,” she said.

  “I think I don’t and that’s why you’re a disappointment,” I countered. “I had hoped, when you made the approach you so obviously couldn’t wait to make, that this would be much more fun. Instead, it’s been rather boring.”

  This time, Norfolk coughed to hide his chuckle and Franka’s eyes turned cold.

  “I’ll clarify. It’s a mistake to underestimate me,” she stated flat out.

  “And it’s a mistake to threaten me,” I shot back. “For I have the arm of Ulfr and I’m not averse to calling in reinforcements.”

  Franka opened her mouth to speak but Norfolk got there before her.

  “I find it’s always best, Franka, when blood has been drawn, to retreat at least long enough to assess the damage.”