by Andrea Boyd
He began stroking my hair and a measure of calmness filtered through me. “It will not be as bad as you think, you will see. I have never said as much, but Prince Rian was the one chosen for you when you were but a toddler. There is no one else in the country more suitable.”
“But Poppa, he is not the one I love. I do not even know him.”
His hands stilled on my head. “As for that, I am sure if you have thought yourself in love with another, you were mistaken. Do I make myself clear?”
I could only nod my head, still hoping he would not mention what he knew about Brett Eveny. I would never be ready for that conversation with my father. I squeezed my eyes tightly closed, hoping he would move on. He lifted my chin, and I forced my eyes open.
“I met your mother for the first time at the altar in front of a Cordelian priest. That is the way they do things in her country. I brought her back here to Dermot, and it took us a few years, but we did fall in love. You know what I am saying is true, do you not?”
“Yes, Poppa.”
“You have an advantage over me and your mother. You can take these next couple of days to get to know the prince. I want you to put forth your best effort to make him agree to this marriage. I mean that—whatever it takes. As far as I am concerned, you already belong to the prince. Do you understand what I am implying?”
My limbs felt heavily laden as a chill settled over me. I worried that my stomach might empty its contents right there in his lap. Was he asking me to seduce Rian? I felt dirty. I had slept with a man I was not married to. I suppose he thought one more would not hurt.
I had to swallow several times before being able to whisper my reply. “Yes, Father.”
“You may go.”
I stood, curtsied, and left the room. I understood perfectly.
Tears smarted my eyes. Oh, why could I have not done things differently? If Brett and I had not rushed our relationship, Father may have considered him a more suitable mate. He was to inherit the title of duke after all. His unmarried uncle intended to pass his title and holdings down to him. Surely a Dermish duke was a suitable enough rank for a princess.
Damini was in my room when I returned. She studied my face with concern, probably noting the signs of my crying. She took a step forward with her hand reaching for me. I wanted to melt into the comfort of her embrace, but she had betrayed me.
Gathering a courage I barely possessed, I turned my back to her, crossing my arms over my chest. “You are dismissed.”
There were a few moments of silence before I heard the soft whisper of her slippers padding across the floor and then the quiet sound of the door closing behind her. I sat before my dressing table and brushed my hair as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
What would Father do if I went against his demands? I felt sure I could turn Rian against me but what then? If Rian was no longer an option, would Father give in to my uncle’s desires? A shiver slithered down my spine. Marrying someone from Cordelia was out of the question.
I had to be realistic. Brett was no longer a choice. If he wanted me as a wife badly enough, he would have found a way to come back to me. I would have left my father behind to be with him if necessary. And if anyone else had come seeking my hand, Father must have turned them away.
Like it or not, my father was right. Rian was my only choice. Father had said to do whatever it took to secure a marriage to the prince. How far was I willing to go? I glanced at the heavy drapes covering the windows behind me. Rian had asked if I would be out on the veranda tonight. If Father wanted me to seduce him, so be it.
I opened the jar of rouge from my dressing table and moved closer to the mirror. I dabbed a little on my cheeks and lips, using only a small amount. Having never applied it to myself before, I did not want to overdo it.
After drying my eyes with the edge of my tunic, I took the eyeliner from my drawer and pulled my eyelid taunt as Damini had done on the few, special occasions when she had applied it. This turned out to be harder than it looked. The line at the edge of my lid became ever wider as I tried to make them even. I did not even look like myself when I was done.
I undressed and slipped on my nicest pair of silk pajamas. They looked so like the clothes I wore, I wondered if he would notice the difference. What would his reaction be when he saw me? I tried to push it from my mind as I slipped on my boots and donned my hat and cloak.
A last look in the mirror almost made me laugh. The long cloak covered most everything. In addition, it was now completely dark outside. It was doubtful he would be able to see anything. I grabbed a quilt from my armchair on the way to the door. I pulled back the drape and tried to peer outside, but darkness was all I could see. Maybe he would not show. Taking a deep breath, I stepped outside.
“Princess.”
I jerked at the voice so unexpectedly close to me. Even though I had known he might be out here, it had never occurred to me that he would be waiting on the bench outside my door.
“Sorry, I was trying not to scare you.”
His voice sounded more amused than sorry. I attempted to compose myself as I shut the door and sat down on the bench beside him. I tried to see if he was smiling at my expense, but his face was completely shadowed.
“I was beginning to think you were not going to show.”
He had been anticipating seeing me again? My heart hammered in my chest. I was supposed to do whatever it took to entice him. I searched my mind for something clever to say.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting.”
My voice came out in a squeak. Hugging the folded quilt to my chest, I tried in vain to stop my body from trembling. I had no idea how to go about seducing a man. I had no experience in such things. Brett had pursued me. Taking a deep breath of chilled air, I attempted to calm my fears. Prince Rian was a man after all. They were all just alike, or so I had been told.
“It is cold out here and you are already shivering. Here, let me help you with your blanket.” He took the quilt from me and shook it out to its full length before wrapping it around me, stuffing the excess between us.
“Thank you.” My voice came out sounding strangled. With more daring than I felt, I tugged the edge of the blanket from beside me and threw it over his legs.
“What are you up to?”
The harshness of his voice caused me to look up toward his face. “Nothing. I only thought you might be cold as well. That is all.”
I felt him relax beside me. He seemed to accept my explanation. Good.
“If I may ask, what did you and your father talk about?”
My first instinct was to tell him it was none of his business but that would not endear me to him. “We talked about the future.”
“Did he reveal who he had in mind for you to marry?”
If I had not overheard his conversation with my father, I would have thought this was an innocent interlude to our conversation from the previous night. Irritation tightened my jaw, making it harder for me to give my answer. “You spoke with him this morning. I am sure you already know who he has in mind.” I tried to rein in my emotions. Snapping at him like this would not help.
He cupped the side of my face and tilted my chin up. “And you approve of his choice? Or is he the one who sent you out here like this? Is that what this is about?”
His words and the calculated tone of his voice conflicted with the gentleness of his fingertips caressing my face. He ran his thumb across my lower lip and it had me shivering for a different reason. I could not speak. He leaned in closer and slowly lowered his lips toward mine. I closed my eyes, anticipating the kiss that was sure to follow.
“I should kiss you and show you what a real man is like, but I refuse to be tricked or trapped into marrying you.”
My eyes snapped open. I wanted to slap him, but he was already walking away.
“By the way, I liked you better without all that makeup.”
I jumped to my feet. If it had been daylight, I would have hurled a rock at his head. I watch
ed as his dark form headed toward the door to his room with my teeth gritted together. Where was the perfect comeback when I needed one?
I picked up the blanket at my feet and entered back through my own door. In a lame attempt to release the angst I felt, I wadded it up and tossed it on the chair in my room. How dare he do that to me? Somehow, he had managed to make me crave the sensation of his lips on mine only to leave me wanting. And the things he said to me . . . I was a fool for even caring, but I did.
With a dampened cloth, I scrubbed my face in an attempt to remove the color but only managed to blacken both of my eyes. I looked like a raccoon. How stupid could I be? I had thought my features were hidden in the dark, but of course, I had been facing into the moonlight.
As my anger began to fade, another emotion crept in to take its place. Failure. What would Father say? What was to become of me now? If I only had his anger and disappointment to overcome, I could handle that. But if Rian would not have me, what then? Would my uncle then be allowed to choose a husband for me? That thought kept me awake long into the night.
Seven
Rian
I had almost kissed her.
Oddly enough, it was the fact that she had been trying to seduce me in her own naïve way that kept me from it. Never in my past had there been a reason not to give into my desires. I was a Christian now, and that made all the difference. Oh, I wanted the princess, and it would not have taken much for me to have her. But, the last woman I gave myself to had nearly destroyed my life. I never wanted to go back to that depraved state again.
Her father had most likely put her up to it. She had been too nervous to have been working on her own. What did he hope to gain? How could any man put his own child in this position? King Farris was using his daughter as a pawn in a game—one I was caught up in with no idea how to play. Just thinking about it caused the ever-present, invisible band to tighten around my chest.
I could not forget the sultry look of her dark eyes lit by the moon, the way her jasmine scent wafted around me, or the petal-soft feel of her lip on my thumb. My mind started to wander down a path that would take things further than they had actually gone. I began praying while I readied for bed. It was a trick I learned to deny my sinful nature—find something else to do, and give it over to God in prayer.
One thing was certain, the princess was not my usual type, which was probably a good thing. I had not realized I had a type until a friend pointed it out. He claimed I had a taste for cheap blonds with green eyes. He was not wrong. I had no desire to analyze the reason behind my preferences.
There had to be a way out of here. When I went outside on this night, the first thing I noticed was the guard on the path was missing. It made sense now. At least King Farris had not wanted a witness to his plans for me and his daughter. I was not fooled into thinking I could make an easy escape. If only I could get word to Reagan. If he or Garrett showed up, it would surely put an end to the old king’s plotting.
I dressed early the next morning and set out to explore the grounds. There still was no guard to be seen outside my door, and I wanted to find out just how much freedom I had been granted. What were the possibilities of me sneaking away?
The ground was frozen but it would turn back to slush before the day was done. I took a tentative step out onto the pathway just off from my veranda. The last thing I wanted was to end up back in one of the castle’s prison cells. Others traversed this mountain trail. Surely, I would be all right as long as I stuck to the path. Going left would take me in the opposite direction from the barracks. This was the direction I would need to go to get to the mountain pass that would take me into Gilvary.
Looking ahead, I could see two warriors huddled next to a brazier. I kept walking toward them as if that had been my destination all along. They eyed me nervously as I approached. One of the men looked alert while the other seemed about ready to drop. Both were too old to be standing out here in the elements all night.
“Good morning, gentlemen.”
As expected, they only nodded without speaking.
I stepped past them just to see if one of them would follow. I could hear them parting ways behind me and then came the sound of boots and the thump of the ever-present staff against the frozen ground coming closer. So, I was still being guarded. I slowed my steps so the man could catch up.
“If someone stands guarding the castle every night, you would think there would be a shelter of some kind to protect you from the elements. How do you stand it in the dead of winter?”
“We are not guarding the castle. We are guarding you.”
I stopped on the path and turned to look at him. “You mean the castle is not regularly guarded? What if there is an attack?”
His brows drew together. The look on his face said I had asked the dumbest of questions. “You have spent too much time in Rivania. We’re at peace with the rest of Kearnley and with Cordelia. The only other way in is by sea, and we’d know before they made it as far as the castle. In the small chance that there’s an attack, you can trust that we’ll be ready. You just let the king worry about that.”
I turned and started back down the path. I had learned all I really needed to know. I was still being guarded, just not as closely as before.
The warrior’s attitude proved that me being a prince held no merit here. If I were king . . . why did these thoughts keep entering my head? I had no desire to rule. Well, that was not exactly true. As a child, I always pictured myself ruling like my father but knew that would be impossible since I was the youngest of five boys. Then when I realized my father was not the great man I pictured him to be, the dream lost its flavor.
My brothers and their wives came to mind, disputing my thoughts about ruling a kingdom. They were a true picture of what good, strong leaders should be. Unless things had changed, they held the respect of their people and depended on the Lord to guide them. I hated now that I had caused so many problems for Reagan and Gwen after the death of my parents. Hopefully, one day they would forgive me.
The chapel lay ahead to the left of the path. Its white steeple reaching up toward the sky faded into the clouds behind it. I veered off the path toward it. I had not been to services since leaving Rivania months ago. The building was probably empty at the moment—a perfect place to pray for guidance without distraction.
The odd thing about churches—you come in through the front door to find yourself at the back of the room. The sanctuary was dark but for the natural light coming in through the stained-glass windows. The guard stopped at the back pew while I made my way to the front.
I was nine years old when my father died and Mother became ill. Reagan took over raising me from that time until I ran away from home at the age of fifteen. He had insisted that I attend services even though we had never done so before. I hated it. In hindsight, it was not the services I had hated so much as the feeling of losing control.
Control over my life was what I thought I had gained by running away. Then a little over a year ago, a tragedy struck that out-shadowed all the rest. I realized then that God was the only one who would ever be in control. It was then that I surrendered my heart to Him.
Sitting there on the front pew, I poured my heart out to God. I thanked Him for bringing me safely thus far. I had felt the strong urge to come home. I was in Kearnley now, if I could just make it to Gilvary, everything would be all right. If it was in His plan for me to stay here a little longer, I prayed for Him to open my eyes to His purpose. Peace washed over me again, and again.
I was in the middle of praying for each one of my family members when a noise interrupted my petition. A tall man with dark eyes and salt-and-pepper hair walked in through the door behind the pulpit. At first, he seemed startled to see me there. He glanced at the warrior in the back of the room and then walked purposely toward me. I stood as he approached and shook his hand when he offered it.
“I am Liam Reeves, vicar here at the castle’s chapel. And you must be the captive prince.”
He grinned good-naturedly as he sat down on the pew and gestured for me to do the same.
“That is one way of putting it, but I prefer to be called Rian.”
“Although I prefer my given name as well, everyone here calls me Vicar Reeves. I am glad to have caught you here. I’ve been wanting to meet you since I heard you were in Dermot.”
I gave him a pointed stare. “You could have introduced yourself while I was languishing there in Dermot’s prison. Or is that beneath your station?”
My rude words caused a prick to my conscience, but I had a hard time showing respect to a man representing God who would ignore the lowest of people.
“You are very direct. I like that. You may not know, but I am not allowed to visit the prisoners. In fact, I am not welcome at the castle either. The king and I do not see eye-to-eye when it comes to God’s will, among other things.”
God’s will. Those words brought to mind something Reagan tried to teach me during my time with him. After all these years, his words were still fresh in my memory. Rian, do not waste your time fighting against the plans God has for you. It will only bring you harm if you do. Though it was told to me many years ago, it was a concept I was just coming to understand.
The vicar folded his hands in his lap. “Since you are here, I hope I do not offend you further by asking, do you know Christ as your personal savior?”
“I am sorry if I was rude before. I am not offended at all, and yes, I just recently became a Christian.”
“Excellent. Is there anything you would like for me to pray about on your behalf?”
I sat back and ran my hand across my face. “I felt led to return home. I know it is what God meant for me to do, but now I am stuck here with no understanding as to why.”
“Sometimes we are given clues that we don’t notice until we start looking. Yes, you should pray for guidance, but in the meantime, think over everything that has happened since you came here and it may make His will more apparent.”
