by Jeanne Hardt
Besides, she needed the acceptance of his family before they wed. She would never endanger his right to rule. If they refused her, would he deny his throne to have her?
She held her hands to her face. With so many thoughts tumbling about, sleep would never come.
“Your Highness?” Daisy lightly rapped.
The child should be asleep at this hour and not knocking at Olivia’s door.
Olivia sat upright and plumped the pillows behind her back. “Come in, Daisy.” She scolded herself for not speaking to her mother about the girl. She had been too caught up in her own worries. Tomorrow, she would set things right.
Daisy pattered across the floor. “Forgive me if I woke you, but Lady Rosalie wishes to see you. She bribed one of the guards to let her in.”
“Bribed? How?”
“I do not know, Your Highness. She’s waiting in the hall. Shall I bring her?”
“Please do. And, Daisy . . . Go to your chamber and sleep. The morning always comes earlier than you like.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” She took a step back, then stopped and grinned. “Highness? Do you find Prince Sebastian . . . handsome?”
“Yes, I do.” More so than she would ever know. “Why?”
“Well . . . when I tended him, I had difficulty keeping my eyes from his face. I’ve never felt that way before about anyone.”
If Daisy had been older, Olivia would not find her words quite so endearing. “Noticing the fine qualities of a man is the first step to becoming a woman. Prince Sebastian’s attributes are of the highest standard, so I am not surprised you noticed.”
“May I confide in you?”
Olivia nodded, yet the conversation felt slightly strange.
Daisy’s eyes widened. “I long to touch his beard.” Her cheeks reddened and she slapped a hand to her mouth.
For a brief moment, Daisy vanished and all Olivia could think of was the way Sebastian’s body had quivered as she fingered the thick hair on his chin. “I would not advise it, Daisy. After all, he is a prince. He is not to be touched.”
Except by her, of course.
“Yes, Your Highness.” She bowed low. “Please do not tell him.”
“I shan’t.” She smiled at the child and sent her on her way.
No sooner had Daisy disappeared out the door than Rosalie entered. Olivia’s heart leapt at the sight of her dear friend, and she patted the spot next to her on the bed.
Rosalie rushed across the room and took her place.
Olivia flung her arms around her, gave her a generous hug, and released her. “I have missed you, Rosalie.”
“And I you, Your Highness.” The bright smile she had worn upon entering the room faded into a frown.
“What troubles you?”
“I have promised myself not to cry,” Rosalie whimpered. “I know not what to do.”
“Tell me.” Olivia could not imagine what troubled her. Now that she and Dane were together and soon to be married, all should be well.
Rosalie’s chin quivered, and Olivia prepared for the inevitable tears. She handed Rosalie a kerchief in preparation.
“I have nowhere to go. My parents refuse to allow Dane and me to live with them. They know I carry a child and say I brought shame to our family, and that I set a wretched example for Orman. Even after Dane and I are married, they do not want us there. And because of the king’s decree, I cannot stay in the baker’s cottage. Building one of our own will take time, and Dane is not a skilled carpenter. Everywhere we turn, there are whispers. People despise Dane for speaking against Donovan and will not aid him.” She erupted into sobs. “How can anyone hate my sweet Dane? The most kind and loving man in all of Padrida?”
Rosalie flopped over onto Olivia’s lap and cried.
Olivia’s heart wrenched for her friend. It never occurred to her that her people would react this way. How could they continue to stand behind Donovan knowing he intended to commit tyranny?
Of course, the answer slapped her in the face. Sebastian. Even though he had been there only a short while, Donovan had managed to poison the minds of the people against him. Their fear of the Basilian prince made anything permissible.
Somehow, she had to right this situation.
Rosalie’s tears soaked the bedding that covered Olivia’s lap. The poor girl lifted her damp face and stared at Olivia. “What are we to do?”
Their plight would be easy to resolve. However, changing the hearts and minds of the people of Padrida would not be so simple.
She stroked Rosalie’s long red hair. “You shall live in the castle. Daisy is too young to tend my needs, and until your belly swells to an uncomfortable size, I would like you to be my lady. I will tell the king Dane needs protection, and he should grant the two of you your own chamber—once he performs the rite of marriage, that is.”
Rosalie sat up and used the kerchief to dab at her tears. “Will the queen agree to this?”
“I shall see to it. Mother and I have come to a new understanding.” She caressed Rosalie’s cheek. “Now then, dry your tears. And tonight, stay with me. I shan’t have you sleeping on the floor somewhere and sending you to the lady’s chamber would not be prudent. My bed is large and we will not be disturbed. Besides, I would enjoy your company.”
Rosalie flung her arms around Olivia. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
“What of Dane? Does he wait somewhere for your return?”
She shook her head. “I told him to stay in his cottage and I would somehow manage lodging. Though he hates being near Donovan. Will you ask the king to marry us soon?”
“Is tomorrow soon enough?”
“Oh, yes!” She hugged Olivia tighter than ever.
“Rosalie?” Olivia took her hand. “Daisy claimed you bribed one of the guards to gain entry. With what did you bribe him?”
“All he asked of me was that I speak on his behalf to Lady Margaret. It seems he is fond of her.”
“Gerard?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
Olivia grinned. It appeared Gerard had retained some of his memories. “I have much to tell you.”
After insisting Rosalie wear one of her nightgowns, Olivia settled back against her pillows and waited for her. Not tired in the least, she planned to confide in her friend regarding Sebastian. She trusted Rosalie completely, and sharing the joy and love in her heart for the man she intended to marry, would help her considerably. Maybe then, she could sleep.
* * *
Sebastian tossed about in bed. Thoughts of Olivia were driving him mad, in addition to making him terribly uncomfortable.
Until Olivia, remaining chaste had been simple. Not only did his body crave her, his heart beat like a pounding drum, begging to be near her. Love consumed him.
It did not help matters that not only had he found her to be brilliant and beautiful, but unexpectedly sensual as well. A pleasant revelation, that added to his discomfort.
He needed to sleep. Hopefully, he could attain satisfaction in his dreams.
Smiling, he pushed his head deeper into the pillow.
Almost instantly, his thoughts shifted and took his pleasant feelings with them. Perhaps thinking about Jonah would take them in a better direction.
Seeing Jonah at the gorge had affirmed he had survived a night alone in the forest. Probably grumbling all the while. The dangerous boars were still an issue. He doubted Jonah had slept at all, and being freed to return to Basilia had to have been a welcome relief.
Honestly, Jonah was the least of his worries. What Sebastian’s father would do when he read the letter troubled him more. Would he send the twenty men without question, or send an army?
Sebastian tried to put himself in his father’s place. What would he do as a high king with only one son, and a nephew he despised who would sit on his throne if his son were to perish?
The answer was obvious. He would protect his son, no matter the cost.
Likely, the only reason he allowed Sebastian to go freely about
on adventures was because the kingdoms had attained peace. Once the man learned the people of Crenia had not perished, but resided in a hidden kingdom only two days ride from Basilia, everything would change.
The truth hit Sebastian hard. His father would send men armed for battle.
It was doubtful he would want war. However, he would not take chances with the life of his son. Why should he trust a Crenian king to protect a Basilian prince? Old grievances resided in the minds of every man who carried the knowledge of stories told and lessons learned from books and scholars. The kingdoms were bitter enemies. Their ancestors’ blood stained the ground they now walked on.
If the people of Basilia knew Sebastian was being held against his will, the hatred displayed by the people of Padrida would pale in comparison to the bitterness from Basilia. They would readily shed blood to return their prince to safety.
Yet Padrida had no means to fight. The pitiful guards alone were proof of that. They might consider themselves skilled swordsmen, but they would surely die pitted against the brutal strength of Basilia.
If he and Olivia were to have a long and pleasing relationship, he had to devise a way to protect her people.
He only had four days to make his plan.
So much for sleep . . .
Chapter 25
Sometime in the early morning hours, Sebastian had drifted off, but a loud thump on his door jarred him awake.
It sounded nothing like a knock, rather as though something had struck it.
He lay perfectly still and listened. No further noises came from the hallway, and his sense of urgency subsided.
After a good stretch, he arose from the bed. He needed to see Olivia as soon as possible to discuss his plan. Hopefully, she would be in agreement.
Not only had Daisy brought him fresh water, she had also laundered his clothes. He happily tossed Donovan’s garments aside, but before he fully dressed, he needed to wash.
He poured water from a pitcher into a large bowl, then cleaned his face and rinsed his mouth. In addition, he used a cloth that he pulled taut over his fingers, to scrub his teeth. He was not about to let Olivia find him offensive in any way.
It felt liberating to secure his prince’s broach to the shoulder of his dark green tunic. He had hated being reminded of Donovan whenever he glanced down at himself.
He opened his door, then drew back. A long knife protruded from the oak at eye level. Obviously, the thump that had woken him. The sharp blade secured a piece of parchment beneath it.
Sebastian studied the hallway. Not a soul in sight.
He yanked the knife free and grasped the parchment, finding it to be a letter addressed to him.
After checking once more to see if anyone was about, he closed the door and took a seat.
Basilian Prince,
Leave at once or you shall not live to see your people again. If you lay hand to the princess, your death will be merciless. She has already been claimed and is not for you.
The next Crenian knife you see will be bulging from your chest.
Even within the walls of the castle, he was not safe.
His blood boiled. He tightened his fist around the hilt of the knife, then forced himself to calm. Being hot-headed never solved anything.
After several calming breaths, he studied the knife’s intricate design. The hilt had been carved from bone, and the steel blade was the length of his hand. The knife appeared to be quite old, yet still sharp and menacing.
He reread the letter. It had no signature—likely because its author was a coward—and simply a large ‘D’ had been scrolled at the bottom of the page.
It had probably been Donovan who had penned the letter, but as far as Sebastian knew, Donovan remained in shackles in the baker’s cottage. If Donovan had written it, someone else would have had to spear it to Sebastian’s door.
Though it would add to her distress, he had to show the knife and letter to Olivia. And then, they would go to the king together.
* * *
It had been well past midnight when Olivia fell asleep. Revealing her feelings about Sebastian to Rosalie somehow intensified them. The more Olivia spoke of him, the more she realized what a perfect pair they were. If only he had not been born a Basilian.
She blinked into the rays of light that the morning sun cast over her bed. Rosalie had her eyes shut tight. She lay on her back with her red hair splayed across the pillow—almost angelic-looking.
Olivia smiled, seeing her so peaceful. At least she had made someone happy. She wanted that for all her people, but fear and discontent lingered around every corner.
Rosalie’s hands rested atop the blankets, folded protectively over her belly.
It had to be unusual carrying a child within, yet Olivia hoped to experience it one day.
As much as she wanted to let her sleep, she needed to wake her. Some of her father’s guards were not as accommodating as Gerard. If Roderick or Wittek found her here, they would likely raise an alarm. Since Rosalie had been dismissed from the queen’s service, she was considered a commoner. Until Olivia asked her father to change her status, she was not permitted in the inner chambers.
“Rosalie,” Olivia whispered. “You must waken.”
Her body shifted slightly, but her eyes remained closed.
“Rosalie . . . please.” Olivia raised her voice a bit louder. “The sun has risen.”
“Mmm . . .” Rosalie lifted her arms and stretched. “I had the most wonderful dream.”
“About Dane?” Olivia leaned against the wall, then drew her knees to her chest.
Grinning, Rosalie rolled onto her side and looked up at her. “Yes. And about our baby. In my dream it was a boy.”
“You wish for a son?”
Rosalie nodded, then yawned. “I believe every man wants a son.”
And most mothers, as well. If Olivia had been a boy perhaps they would not be in their current predicament.
Rosalie caressed her abdomen in slow circular motions. The smile that had brightened her face diminished. “Dane is happy about our baby. He is also afraid.”
“Because of what happened to his mother?”
“Yes.” Rosalie lifted her eyes, no longer weary. “I am fearful as well. I do not wish to die.”
Smiling, Olivia touched her cheek. “And I shall not permit it. When your time comes, I will send the healer to assist you. Would that ease your fears?”
Rosalie’s chin quivered.
Expecting a child had made Rosalie even more emotional than usual. Olivia hoped she would hold back her tears. It pained her to see her upset.
Rosalie sniffled. “Thank you, Your Highness.” Fortunately, she kept her tears at bay. She sat up, scooted close to Olivia, then leaned her head on her shoulder. “I would like you to be the child’s godmother. Is that too much to ask? Since you are—after all—the princess.”
Nothing could have warmed Olivia’s heart more. “I may have been born a princess, but I am also your friend. I would be honored. And I want to thank you again for listening to me last night. Sharing my feelings for Sebastian gave me great pleasure.”
Rosalie lifted her head, then faced Olivia. “I want you to experience the same happiness I found with Dane, but you have much to overcome.” She grasped Olivia’s hand. “Our people fear him. And until you told me of his gentle ways, I, too, was afraid. Now, I would very much like to see him and judge for myself whether or not he is as handsome as you say.”
“Oh, he is. More so than Donovan.” Olivia sighed. “If I had allowed Donovan to have me, I would never have been able to secure a future with Sebastian. Their laws require he marry a maid.”
“I pray you never considered lying with Donovan.”
“I confess it crossed my mind. Had you not cautioned me about him, I may have succumbed. He can be quite persuasive.” Her stomach soured simply from speaking of him. “Did you see the show of hands in the throne room during the trial? How many maids do you believe he has deflowered?”
“I know not. What he does, takes the beauty away from the act. No man should ever brag about his conquests. Donovan delights in it.”
The beauty of it. “Rosalie? Is coupling with a man truly wonderful?”
Rosalie’s cheeks complemented her hair. “Your Highness . . .” Her head tipped down, but then rose again.
It had not been Olivia’s intention to embarrass her. “Do not answer. Forgive my boldness.”
Rosalie let out a nervous-sounding laugh. “You speak to me as a friend, and I am grateful you trust me enough to confide in me.” She took a large breath, then sat tall. “I love Dane wholeheartedly, and joining was the greatest affirmation of our love. When two souls are united physically, nothing is more sacred.”
Olivia’s heart fluttered. Rosalie’s beautiful, well-said words sounded like Sebastian’s.
She kissed Rosalie’s cheek. “Thank you for your candor.”
The flush in Rosalie’s face had subsided, replaced by a look of pride. For once, she had been the teacher and Olivia her pupil. It appeared to have given her great satisfaction.
A rap on the door jarred them from their ease. Rosalie had stayed too long. Olivia never should have engaged her in morning conversation.
“Olivia!” The loud whisper from the other side of the door sounded urgent.
Sebastian?
Olivia hopped from the bed and hurried to the door, then opened it a crack. “Sebastian, is something wrong?” She jerked him inside and shut the door.
He looked finer than ever, dressed in his own clothes.
As his eyes searched up and down her body, the air warmed.
How could she have been so foolish? She stood before him in a sheer cotton gown, allowing him a foretaste of what would one day be his.
“Your Highness.” Rosalie scurried up behind her and covered her with a robe. Fortunately, she had had the sense to cover herself first.
Sebastian nodded to Rosalie. “I see you have a new maid. Forgive me for interrupting your . . .” His brow creased, and he gestured to the bed.
Olivia giggled. “You have interrupted nothing. This is Rosalie, the maidservant I spoke of.”
