Love Schemes

by Stacy Charasidis

  “What, be rude? Mannerless?”

  “Fight fire with fire,” King suggested with a wink. “Let’s go, Demon!” he shouted.

  The horse let out a steaming pile of dung and leaped away.

  Ugh. So much for lunch, Doran thought gloomily.

  Chapter 8 – Seraphina

  Where the hell is that annoying man? Seraphina fumed silently. Her tapping toe sounded loud in the cavernous ballroom. Her father told her he had reminded Doran of the lesson, so where was he? The minstrel sat yawning in the dimness of the room. He had just woken up after having played at the town pub the night before and was quietly tuning his lyre.

  Doran finally appeared. He peeked into the ballroom and stepped in carefully. Seraphina scowled as a jaunty, happy tune burst from the minstrel’s corner. At a glance, Seraphina could tell the musician was relieved at Doran’s presence. Doran seemed uncomfortable. She didn’t care.

  “You’re late,” she accused.

  Doran raised his eyebrows. In seconds his natural confidence, and haughty expression, were back. “You’re angry? The irony of this situation is astonishing as it appears to be lost on you.”

  Seraphina’s pale cheeks pinked with embarrassment, but she persevered. “As you so aptly put it, this very morning, keeping people waiting is rude, so don’t do it again. I too have things to do this afternoon.”

  Doran looked bored. “Fine, fine. What do we start with here? Let’s get this dog and pony show over with.”

  Seraphina was speechless. “Dog and what? Dancing is actually fun, unlike sitting in a stuffy room learning…stuff.”

  “Everyone has their preferences,” he sniffed.

  She grit her teeth. “Fine. We’ll start with the box step, the main step for three of our courtly dances.”

  The minstrel started a traditional song and the afternoon went downhill from there. Despite her instructions, when she said move forward, Doran stepped back. When she said back, he came forward. When she said one side, he went to the other. He stepped on her feet a thousand times. Though Doran was slim and graceful looking, it didn’t translate onto the dance floor, and because he was all lean muscle, he was heavy. Her toes were killing her.

  “You’re not paying attention!” Seraphina yelled in frustration an hour later after they had knocked their heads together for the tenth time. “You’re doing this on purpose!”

  “This is just stupid,” he yelled back, rubbing his head.

  They were at an impasse.

  “You can’t learn this,” Seraphina said, turning her back on him and storming to the door. “You’re graceless and clumsy!”

  “Well, you’re an imbecile,” he yelled at her retreating back, “incapable of learning the most basic sums!”

  At that comment, the wide-eyed minstrel started to whistle loudly and pack his lyre. He ran from the room.

  Seraphina halted in outrage. This man made her so angry. She whirled to face him. “I am not stupid, you ignoramus.”

  “You could have fooled me. Do you like it when your student doesn’t try one bit? I can see very obviously that you do not,” he said with satisfaction.

  Seraphina smiled coldly. “I can do anything you can do only ten times better—watch me. But you, you’ll never learn how to dance. I would only send my worst enemy to dance with you, and only because I would enjoy seeing her maimed on the dance floor.”

  “I think not, dear girl. I will learn to dance, and will do it even better than you.”

  “Tomorrow then!” Seraphina shouted, eyes blazing, and stormed from the room. She hoped he couldn’t tell she was limping.

  Chapter 9 – Doran

  Doran could tell she was limping and felt bad. He shouldn’t have called her an imbecile. It wasn’t chivalrous to treat a lady so.

  The minstrel peeked around the door and was looking at Doran with awe. “The princess has quite a temper, your highness. I’m not sure I would have done that if I were you.”

  Doran shrugged. “I can handle one spoiled princess. What can she possibly do?”

  “You’d be surprised,” the minstrel said with a snicker.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Doran was not worried. “See you tomorrow?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  The next day Seraphina was on time for their lesson, Doran noted with satisfaction. He learned she actually could add, subtract, multiply, and divide. She just needed to learn how to keep the books for a castle, track rents, pay bills, and balance their wealth. Those concepts proved considerably more difficult as Doran discovered over the next couple of weeks.

  “Seraphina, chickens are not considered part of your assets if they’re for food.”

  “But it’s livestock,” she complained as she looked at the red X marks on her castle balance sheet.

  “Yes, but these chickens are for eating, not for laying. There’s a difference,” he said patiently. “You’ll be putting them in and taking them out of your assets constantly compared to heads of cattle you keep for years. The day you, say, sell the castle, whatever chickens are left go into your assets.”

  “Oh, fine,” she said crossly, fixing her mistake.

  He took the paper back and glanced at her exercise. It was perfect. He smiled at her. The last few weeks had shown her to be an apt student. “Good work, Seraphina. A few chickens wouldn’t make a difference in your case, but knowing the proper classifications is important.”

  Seraphina rolled her eyes and snorted but seemed pleased.

  Before sitting down, he checked his chair for ink and sturdiness. While both of them were trying hard to prove themselves to the other, Seraphina had become quite a mischievous prankster, adding peril to his day-to-day life in her spite. She had put ink on his chair and ruined a very good pair of pants. “It spilled,” she explained, and conveniently forgot to tell him.

  She’d inked the door handle to his room. He’d only discovered this after he had run his hands through his hair and over his face. He had gone to dinner streaked like a zebra. Luckily, a smiling, but discreet, Faith suggested he wash up before entering the dining hall. “You’ll see why.”

  He had howled with frustration and rubbed his skin raw to remove all the ink. Faith’s knight, who finally told everyone his name was Sir Zuric, had snickered at his predicament.

  She would knock him in the passageways from behind, sending whatever he was holding flying from his hands—his coffee, his ledgers, but the worst was when he dropped a bag of gold after one of his trips to the vault. It had taken him an hour to locate and pick up every coin that had bounced and rolled around the corridor. He swore the whole time, language be damned. When she had looked back at the mess she had created he thought for sure she’d stop and help, but she didn’t. Seraphina didn’t feel remorse. True evil never did.

  The worst was Seraphina sending that horrible, promiscuous maid to his rooms in the evenings, offering him “favours.”

  “Please leave,” he’d requested of her, fending off her quick hands as she’d tried to pat him in private places. He’d had to tell her specifically not to come back, ever, when she returned the following evening.

  “Don’t you want to have a little fun?” she’d asked teasingly, waving her feather duster in his face. “No one would know.”

  “I know Seraphina sent you. One mad woman in my life is enough,” he’d responded decisively as he shut and locked the door to his suite after shooing her out.

  Of course he had retaliated in sheer desperation. Sir Zuric explained that if he didn’t stand up for himself Seraphina would never stop bullying him. Oh how Doran missed the good old days when Seraphina pretended he was invisible.

  So, during their dancing lessons, he’d now ruined at least two of her dresses by deliberately stepping on them. The loud ripping sounds had given him great satisfaction. On days she played mean tricks on him he made sure to step on her toes heavily and frequently.

  “For God’s sake Doran, I’m going to be crippled!” Seraphina had yelled at him
after he had tread on her tender toes for the umpteenth time that day. “You’re ruining all my dancing slippers. I’m going to need shoes made of steel to dance with you!”

  “You know the solution to that,” he’d replied grimly, looking at the ink stains on his shirt—on all his shirts, actually (if he were being honest).

  Their little feud continued until about three weeks before the scheduled arrival of Prince Brody. It was just after sunset and Doran was in the village nearby ordering supplies for the castle when he saw Seraphina, draped in a light summer cloak with a cowl hiding her face, slip down the dark street and disappear into the shadows. He would know that shape anywhere after spending hours holding her in his arms and twirling her around the ballroom.

  Doran sighed. What the hell was she up to now?

  He quickly concluded his business and left the shop to follow her. Now that darkness had fallen, the unsavoury element of any village would start to crawl out of their daytime holes looking for trouble, and her behaviour was just asking for it. Anxiety curled in his gut when he didn’t see her, but then movement in the trees further down the street caught his eye and he silently followed.

  Chapter 10 – Seraphina

  Seraphina moved quickly and quietly through the dark streets of the village. She knew she shouldn’t be out so late by herself, but she was desperate. Three weeks! Only three weeks until Prince Brody arrived and life as she knew it would be over. Wedding preparations would begin and for the month before the actual ceremony, she’d have absolutely no freedom, and more importantly, no alone time. It seemed like the will of God helping her when she’d been stabling her horse and overheard some of the guards talking about a village man named Trevan. Apparently, the man hung around Gold River Village Tavern and he helped people in trouble with the law disappear. She’d frozen in excitement as she eavesdropped on their conversation, shushing her horse as he butted her in impatience to keep grooming.

  That was yesterday.

  Tonight she was going to find this Trevan and see what he could do for her. She was not getting married, and if she had to run away from her beloved home, then so be it.

  She knew the tavern was just on the edge of town, so she hurried down Gold River’s main street. She felt as if she were being watched. She looked behind her. Was that a shadow? She couldn’t tell in the dark of early evening. The streetlamps cast pools of light on the ground, and with the wind rustling the trees, dancing shadows confused her vision. A chill of foreboding spiked through her. What was she doing? No one knew where she was—she hadn’t even trusted Faith with her plans. She slowed down as doubt and fear rose up. Should she just go home?

  At that moment she saw the tavern’s sign waving in the wind, the gold paint glinting in the reflection of the gas lanterns strung in front of the quaint little barn-like building, beckoning her on. It was fate! She headed toward it.

  When she entered the tavern, the smell of ale and unwashed bodies hit her like a runaway carriage. It wasn’t full—only a handful of patrons were there, mostly travellers, a table of rowdy young men, and a few old men who looked like they were fixtures in the place. At the long bar at the back, the barkeep was staring at her. Compared to the garments of the other inhabitants, her cloak was obviously costly, and thus, out of place. He was drying a glass with a towel and he quirked up an eyebrow at her. Gathering her courage, Seraphina swept through the room to speak to him. He put the glass away neatly behind him, and turned to look at her, eyes narrowed.

  “What can I do for you lassie?” he asked brusquely, his voice a deep boom in his chest.

  Seraphina bent closer so she could whisper. “I’m looking for a man named Trevan. I heard he frequents your establishment. Is that true?”

  The barkeep looked surprised. “Yes, Trevan comes for a draught most nights, but what would a fine roy—, er, lass like you be needing with the likes of him?”

  Seraphina was flustered. Did he recognize her? She’d hoped with her famous flaming hair hidden villagers wouldn’t recognize her face. “I need some information…for a friend, who is looking to leave town, er, quietly. Can he help?”

  “Now lassie….” he started in a low, warning voice, when a figure, previously unnoticed by Seraphina, detached himself from a corner table in the shadows and approached.

  “I believe the young lady is looking for me,” the man said casually. He turned to look at Seraphina, and smiled. “I’m Trevan.”

  Seraphina’s skin crawled at the expression on his face. The man would have been handsome, but something about his features showed an unattractive weakness. At first glance he appeared clean, but she could see dirt under his fingernails and black grime on his teeth, which showed poor hygiene found only in the lowest classes.

  She smiled back, vainly trying to hide the feelings of fear and distress that were starting to flow through her body. “Never mind,” she said a bit breathlessly, turning to leave.

  Trevan’s hand grabbed her wrist lightning fast. The bartender reached behind the bar for a long, stout stick obviously used for clubbing unruly patrons. Seraphina could see blood—and was that hair?—on the end of it. Ugh. She shuddered.

  “Just relax, Bear,” Trevan said soothingly. “I just want to talk with the girl. She knows my name so I’d like to know what she wants, that’s all. We’ll use the kitchen for privacy, no need for violence.” Trevan’s voice was soft and reassuring, but his fingers were grinding her wrist bones together, causing her to grit her teeth.

  Bear put the stick down slowly. He looked at Seraphina worriedly, but when she nodded, she knew that he’d be there in an instant if he heard the slightest commotion. Her eyes scanned the room and so far none of the patrons had noticed anything awry. Perhaps she would be safe.

  With his hand still trapping her wrist, Trevan pulled Seraphina through the kitchen and then out the back door of the tavern. She tried to resist going through, but he yanked her roughly, pulling her outside and pushing her against the wooden back wall.

  “Why are you looking for me, rich girl?” he asked menacingly. He had released her wrist only to use his hands to pin her to the wall by her throat. With all the rough treatment, Seraphina’s hood had fallen and her red hair blazed and tumbled around her shoulders. She was trying to breathe and kick him, but it was as if he felt nothing, and he was staring at her.

  “Who are you? My God, you look so familiar….” Trevan’s eyes widened. “I know exactly who you are, your highness! No one could forget hair like that, just like the Queen’s.” Seraphina watched as different emotions flashed through Trevan’s dull brown eyes, fear, greed, lust, cruelty—and she knew that last emotion would win out and determine what happened next. This man had a taste for inflicting pain that superseded any concerns of being caught. Seraphina’s heart beat frantically in terror.

  “I guess you heard about the people I helped ‘disappear,’” he laughed humourlessly. “Fools, all of them.”

  His meaning hit Seraphina like a shocking blow. She was in the hands of a murderer. What had she done?

  Trevan was still talking. “I’ll help you too, don’t you worry. However,” he said slyly, “I think we’re going to need a little alone time together first—” he said, chuckling and pressing his body against hers. Seraphina could feel his excitement and kicked out in disgust. She closed her eyes and turned her head as he came to kiss her, but then she heard a sharp crack and the horrible man fell away.

  Chapter 11 – Doran

  Seraphina took a gasping breath, bringing her hands up to rub her throat. Doran grabbed her and put her behind him. He had his sword in his hand and his eyes on the man he’d felled, who was now groaning and rubbing the back of his neck.

  “I didn’t even hear you,” she whispered, her arms tightly around his waist. She had never been so glad to see someone in her life.

  “You were busy,” Doran whispered, adrenaline racing through him. “Let me go, Seraphina. I can’t fight with you clinging to me like that. Go get Bear, now.”


  Reluctantly, she released him and raced for the door. Trevan took a swipe at her skirts when she came near, but she saw Doran kick him in the face and he rolled on his back in silent agony.

  She opened the back door and screeched Bear’s name. The cook yelled with fright, a ladle sailing through the air, hitting the doorjamb beside her. Shocked, she looked at the cook as if he were mad.

  Bear came tearing from the tavern with his huge club.

  “Attack!” Seraphina screamed, and plunged out the back door again.

  Bear came storming through a moment later. Doran was still in his defensive stance watching over a scowling Trevan, who was now sitting docilely on the ground, nursing his jaw and assessing the situation.

  “You said you wouldn’t hurt her,” Bear grumbled ominously, shifting the huge club back and forth between his hands. The night filled with a sense of impending violence.

  “Send for the authorities,” Doran said.

  At that, Trevan scrambled to his feet and jumped back quickly, avoiding the warning thrust of Doran’s sword. “Now, now, there’s no need for that,” he said with a smile, taking another step back.

  “Halt,” Doran said in a firm voice. “If you take one more step, I’ll be forced to hurt you.” He could feel Bear beside him, supporting his statement.

  Trevan laughed and continued laughing. Bear shifted uncomfortably beside Doran. What was wrong with this guy? Putting his hands on his knees, gasping, Trevan lifted his head, his eyes were bloodshot red and he was still grinning. “You’ll have to catch me first,” and he bolted.

  Doran rubbed his eyes. That was fast. Surprised, he looked at Bear, who was also watching the fleeing man.

  Seraphina was dumbfounded. “You just let him run away! He’s in the forest now. Why didn’t you pursue?” Seraphina asked angrily.

  “Pursue? And leave you by yourself? Not on your life, Seraphina. Look at the trouble you’ve already gotten yourself into!” Doran said with barely concealed irritation.