by Jeanne Hardt
“As long as you do not burn the meat.” He pointed at the raging fire. “Is it not too large?”
No wonder the wood smoke carried so far. What Jonah had built looked more like a bonfire than a campfire, piled high with logs.
Jonah shrugged. “I heard a wolf. Better safe than not.”
Sebastian sat on a large rock some distance from the blazing heat, while Jonah skinned and gutted the rabbit. Something kept him from telling Jonah about Olivia and the castle. For now, he would keep it to himself and wait for the appropriate opportunity to tell his friend.
The moon would be full in mere days, so they needed to journey home in the morning. Without a doubt, Sebastian would return here. And somehow, he would find a better way to communicate with the lovely Olivia.
Chapter 6
Olivia stared at her plate, then rolled around some peas with her fork. Never had she been more confused.
Rosalie caught her eye and offered a timid smile, which Olivia forced herself to return. She did not feel like smiling, or doing much of anything for that matter.
Her mother reached across her father, who sat between them, and patted Olivia’s hand. “I understand, dear,” she whispered. “When my time comes, I rarely feel like eating.”
Her father cleared his throat and flushed red.
“No one heard, Boden,” her mother said. “You know well about women’s ailments. I am intolerable some months.”
He nudged Olivia. “I would never dare call her intolerable.”
Olivia nearly smiled. She could tell he was trying to lift her spirits, but nothing could.
Soon the evening meal would end and the noise in the grand hall would cease. For once it comforted her to be surrounded by so much activity. She did not want to be the center of attention.
She glanced at Justine for a moment longer than she intended, then resigned herself to the fact that Rosalie had spoken the truth. Justine pursed her lips and raised her brow as if she held a secret. One Olivia knew well, yet Justine was none-the-wiser.
Olivia intentionally kept her eyes off Donovan. No longer enamored, she had grown disgusted by the simple thought of him. She refused to be made a fool.
She would do better to concentrate on her own secrets. Those she would share with no one.
Sebastian intrigued her. Where had he come from, and if he returned, what would she do with him? If they continued yelling at one another she could lose her voice. Worse yet, if discovered, he would likely be killed.
Fear of evil remained in Padrida. No matter how many years had passed, the deaths caused by the unknown evil were forever etched into the memories of its people. Stories handed down from generation to generation told about the gruesome deaths.
Evil could not be allowed to cross into their land.
It would be kept away by any means necessary.
* * *
Grinning broadly, Jonah hurriedly packed up camp. “We survived.”
Sebastian let out a laugh. “We are not out of the forest, so you might consider hiding your elation.”
“I cannot help myself. Soon we will be under the glorious sun, riding like the wind toward Basilia. I intend to have a large mug of ale and feast at Toad’s Tavern.”
“Why are you so fond of it? If you recall, the last time you dined there you got into a brawl over a woman.”
Jonah jiggled his brows. “Ah . . .” He beamed. “The fair Isabelle.”
Sebastian scowled at Jonah’s euphoric expression.
Jonah instantly sobered. “That was long ago. As I promised, I have sworn myself from women.”
“Good. For a moment, I assumed you had forgotten.”
“Never.” Jonah dutifully tucked their supplies back into the travel bags and fastened them to the horses.
Sebastian covered the dying embers with soil, then poured the leftover water from his pouch on the fire pit. He would never forgive himself if they set Black Wood ablaze. Though unlikely the flames would cross the gorge, the inferno would bring even more fear to Olivia’s sweet face.
“Sebastian?” Jonah grasped his shoulders and shook him.
“Yes?”
“You were elsewhere just now. Are you unwell?”
Sebastian offered a smile, not ready to tell Jonah his secrets. “I am more than fine. We should go. Our horses need to run.”
They had no difficulty finding their way out of the wood. The cut remains from Sebastian’s scythe led the way.
Once they reached open air, Jonah laughed heartily. “Forgive me for being so reluctant to enter the forest. You were right all along. I was foolish to fear it.”
“I never called you foolish.” Sebastian kept Golda at a slow walk. “Superstitious, but not a fool.”
Jonah eased Cinnamon up beside him. “The most frightening thing I saw was a snake devouring a rat. I found it quite interesting. I watched until the tip of the rodent’s tail disappeared and the serpent bulged from its meal.”
“Pleasant.” Sebastian chuckled. “Please do not share those details with my mother.”
“So, how about you?” Jonah cocked his head to one side. “Were you terrified by any sounds in the night?”
Sebastian’s night had been filled with dreams of the mysterious castle and Olivia’s pleasant features, and the sounds of owls and crickets chirping had lulled him. “The only fear I have is what awaits me in Basilia.”
“Princess Angeline?”
“Yes.” He certainly could not marry her. Not when his thoughts rested on another.
* * *
Olivia returned daily to the same spot at the wall, praying to see Sebastian on the other side of the gorge. After several days passed with no sign of him, she gave up hope.
At least she had been able to avoid Donovan. To do so, she had to stay in the castle and only steal away when she knew he was occupied.
She also paid closer attention to Justine and her whereabouts. If Olivia’s mother knew her lady dallied with the man she had intended to marry, she would cast her out of the castle. Possibly even over the wall.
Hmm . . .
No. She should not entertain that idea. After all, Justine was not to blame.
Olivia was grateful to have discovered the truth, even as painful as it had been. Donovan’s charm and handsome features had likely allowed him to dally with more than one lady in waiting. For all Olivia knew, he had given pastries to all the single women of Padrida.
“How dare he?” Anger pushed the words from her mouth, but no one heard. She stood alone at the wall, while everyone else feasted in the dining hall.
Perhaps she should scream vile things about him into the canyon. It might help.
She peered over the edge.
Such a long way down.
Her breath caught as a strong arm encircled her waist.
“Talking to the birds again?” Donovan pulled her against him. His warm breath covered her ear.
Unable to help herself, she trembled. Would he harm her? If he truly intended to marry her, then hopefully not. “Donovan?” Even her voice shook. “You frightened me.”
He kept her firmly in his grasp and put his cheek to hers. “You have nothing to fear.” He turned her in his arms without loosening his hold and kept her body pressed to his.
Breathing hard, her bosom heaved.
“Distress makes you even more beautiful,” he rasped. His eyes rested on her breasts and held the same sinister look she had seen in her sleep.
“Please, release me.”
“Why? Not long ago you welcomed my touch and my kiss. Have your feelings changed in such a short span of time?”
If he only knew.
She could not let on just yet, but having him fondle her was out of the question.
To feign confidence, she tossed her head and pushed her hands against his chest. “You are taking advantage. Release me now.”
He smirked, but didn’t let go. “Now, Livvy. Stop denying me.”
“Do not call me that.” Years of training
as a princess emerged and eliminated every ounce of remaining fear. “Only my father uses that name.” She spoke self-assured. “Now let me go, or I shall scream for the guards.”
His smirk disappeared, and he released her. “Forgive me. I thought . . .” He took another step back. “I love you, Olivia. I thought you understood. No other man in all of Padrida will love you as I do.” He tenderly touched her cheek. “No one could make you happier than I. One day, you will come to realize it. However, I shall do as you wish. I am sorry for intruding on your solitude. I shan’t do it again.”
His shoulders slumped, and he walked away.
A performance she would never forget.
* * *
A burst of energy swept over Sebastian. Thrust. Parry. “Yes!”
Jonah landed on his back, with Sebastian’s foot against his chest and the tip of his sword inches from Jonah’s throat.
Jonah smiled up at him. “Very good, Your Highness!”
Applause erupted, accompanied by a series of giggles. Angeline’s annoying laughter carried over every other sound.
“Wonderful!” she shrieked and tittered.
Jonah had the nerve to wiggle his brows and grin.
“My weapon has not moved from your throat,” Sebastian whispered, leaning in.
All expression drained from Jonah’s face. He held up his hands in submission. “Forgive me.”
Sebastian stepped aside, then extended his hand and lifted Jonah to his feet.
Only two days had passed since Angeline’s arrival, and Sebastian already felt pressure from his parents. They expected a proposal.
Only one solution seemed possible. He would discuss his plight with his father, then hopefully the man could appease his mother. And being a man, surely, he would understand his lack of interest in Angeline. How could he not?
* * *
Sebastian wanted the perfect circumstance to tell his father about his lack of affection for Angeline. The man acted happiest when grooming his prize stallion, so Sebastian chose to speak to him in the stable.
His father ran a heavy wood brush over the back of the chestnut horse. “Champion will soon be bred to Golda. Their offspring will be exceptional.”
Sebastian nodded, contemplating the proper moment to speak his mind.
Time and again, he had been compared to his father. Though he stood two inches taller than the man, he was similar in stature and physical appearance. Both had the same dark hair and features, yet Sebastian’s eyes were green, whereas his father’s were brown. They also took pride in keeping themselves physically sound. Swordplay contributed to much of it. His father had mastered the craft and had frequently bested him.
And now—looking even more like him—Sebastian attempted to grow a beard. While away, the stubble had begun to form, and he saw no need to remove it.
“Golda is a fine mare, Father,” Sebastian finally said after much thought. “She is also sure-footed and ran well on my journey.”
“I have been meaning to ask you about your adventure. You have said little.”
Only because he feared saying too much. It was not the time to tell about the hidden kingdom. Until he knew more, he had next-to-nothing to tell. Besides, he feared if he shared his knowledge of the kingdom, his father would send an army to explore and overcome the castle. He doubted the small realm would give them trouble, but his father might find the need for a show of strength.
Sebastian forced a chuckle. “I took Jonah to Black Wood. I am certain he is telling tales at Toad’s Tavern that embellish our venture.”
“Black Wood?” The man’s brows drew in. “Does your mother know?”
“No. I thought it best not to worry her. We had no difficulties.”
Sebastian glanced behind him at the sentries stationed at both entrances to the stable. They stood far enough away, so they could not eavesdrop on their conversation. Though sworn to discretion, some guards were known to have loose lips. Especially after a night of drinking at the tavern.
The king set aside the brush, then dipped his hand into a bucket of oats and hand-fed the horse. Sebastian smiled at the simple act. Even a king could find joy in some of life’s meekest activities.
Sebastian wanted his future as king to be the same. He desired the freedom to be a man, not just a ruler.
“Father?” Sebastian covered his mouth and coughed. This should not be so hard.
“Yes?”
“When you married Mother, you loved her. Did you not?”
His father tilted his head. “Very much. Not only was she beautiful—and still is—she put me at ease. We could talk for hours on end about issues both important and not. I found it easy to lose track of time with her. And . . . I shall never forget our first kiss.” A faraway look filled his eyes, then they misted over. “Were you aware I almost lost her? It happened some time before you were born. A horrible illness. I doubt I could have gone on without her.”
Sebastian’s heart ached at the memory of his father’s pain. “You never mentioned it before. Thank God she lived.”
He nodded in response, then shook his head as if coming out of a deep sleep. “You speak of marriage. Are you ready to make a pledge?”
“You are referring to Angeline?”
Another nod.
“I know Mother expects it, and so does the princess, but . . . I do not love her. Truth be told, I find her . . .” He closed his eyes, afraid to look at his father. “Annoying.”
The man chuckled, then broke into a full laugh, prompting Sebastian to reopen his eyes. His father’s shoulders shook and he held is hands over his stomach. “As do I!”
Relieved beyond words, Sebastian gaped at him.
“You should not be so astonished, son. I prayed every night you would ignore your mother in this regard. Something about that girl’s laughter rakes across my skin like a bad rash. I would not wish her in your bed. You would never sleep.” He nudged Sebastian in the ribs. “And not in a good way.”
Sebastian allowed himself to laugh, appreciative of this favorable outcome. “Thank you.”
“No need to say it. I am greatly relieved.”
It appeared they had formed an alliance.
“So . . .” His father firmly patted him on the back, then looked skyward and rubbed his chin. “How shall we tell your mother? Even two men of like minds can rarely sway the plans of the queen.”
“You are king. She will have to listen to you.”
He frowned. “True, she will listen. She shall comply and send Angeline away. And because of it, I fear my bed will be cold for many weeks to come.”
“I am sorry, Father, yet grateful.”
The man crossed his arms and looked him in the eyes. “I pray you have another princess in mind. I will not live forever, and our people will become discontented if you do not take a bride.”
“No, yet it matters not. I shall travel to the other realms—save Issa—and seek a woman I can love. There may be a young princess not yet of age to marry who I might find appealing. Waiting is not an issue, if it brings about genuine feelings.”
The man put his arm around Sebastian’s shoulder. “There is nothing finer. Though do not discount that you are well into your twenties. Waiting for someone so young may not be wise.”
Champion let out a loud whinny, turning both their heads. He stomped at the ground and tossed his head, then snorted and butted against the side of the stall.
“He needs to breed,” Sebastian’s father muttered. “He smells your mare, so she must be ready. I will pen them together tomorrow.”
Sebastian wanted to return to Black Wood, but it appeared he would have to ride another horse. He hoped to convince Jonah to accompany him on another journey. A much longer one than before.
This time, he had a better excuse to leave. How could his mother argue over a quest to find a bride?
Sebastian intended to stay away until he solved every mystery. Perhaps his intended lived behind the walls of the hidden castle. After all, most every k
ingdom in the land harbored at least one princess.
Chapter 7
For the first time ever, Olivia dreaded the crossing celebration. In years past, she had been excited, waiting for the festivities. They would dine on beef—a rare treat in Padrida—and best of all they would dance to music played by minstrels on lutes and flutes, with rhythm set by tambourines.
Her most joyous memories were those of this special event; the anniversary of their journey into Padrida.
As she slipped into her silken gown, she wanted nothing more than to return to her bed and cry herself to sleep. Her broken heart refused to celebrate.
True to his word, Donovan left her alone. And why not? He was undoubtedly finding pleasure in the arms of Justine.
Olivia pinched her lips tight and furrowed her brow. This growing hate was bound to cause early wrinkles. She needed to set aside her feelings and give regard to the other young men in Padrida.
A gentle rap on her door brought her about. “Yes?”
“Are you dressed?”
Olivia hastened to the door and lifted the latch. “Yes, Mother. Is it time?”
“Not yet. However, I must speak to you first.”
Olivia opened the door wide. “Come in.” Oddly, her mother’s ladies were absent. It confirmed the seriousness of the pending conversation.
Her mother entered, wearing a gown as white as snow that glistened with rubies and pearls; gems handed down from days of old, carefully sewn into the fabric with her own hands. She walked tall and proud, wearing her ever-present crown.
“You are exquisite, Mother.” Olivia bowed her head in honor.
The woman waved her hand in dismissal, then took hold of Olivia’s. “Your dress fits you well, but I see no sparkle in your eyes. To your good fortune, your lips are remarkable. Did you apply rhus berries and beeswax?”
“Yes, Mother. Rosalie instructed me on their use.”
“Good. Red lips will draw a man’s eyes to your face, yet your poor mood lessens your beauty. What troubles you?”
Olivia released her mother and rubbed a hand over her bosom. “My heart aches. I cannot name a suitor.”
