by Terry Spear
Had he been alone with her in the great hall, he would have insisted she take her seat in her chair. Although he wouldn"t have made a move to vacate it. See what kind of a response he would have gotten then. He smiled at the notion.
To prove to her that he wasn"t a tyrant and to play the princess"s game, he had offered her chair to her, just as she had wished, so that he could sit in her cousin"s. But she had quickly changed her mind. And he was very well aware of her reasoning. If she had sat next to her mother, she would have faced the queen"s wrath. Best to keep him where he was so he could act as the princess"s protector.
But he had no intention of serving as her protector. He wanted very much to know everything about Ritasia before he left the region, and that included how she would react under pressure.
She barely ate any of her meal, and he wondered if he"d spoiled her appetite or if she always picked at her food.
“No appetite, my lady?”
She glanced up at him, their gazes colliding. She had the most darkly intriguing eyes, such a deep brown they were nearly obsidian. Her hair was just as dark, tendrils having come loose beneath the goddess-awful dusty hat she wore, the straps tied around her chin, the silky strands of her hair curling over her shoulders.
“Remove your hat!” Queen Irenis snapped, her composure all but gone as she glowered at Ritasia.
The princess gave her mother an annoyed look, which amused Tiernan. The woman was a delight.
But as she tried to pull the hat free, hair pins kept it in place. She opened her mouth as if to speak, and he assumed she"d tell her mother she couldn"t remove her hat. But he leaned over the princess and said, “Allow me, my lady,” as if he was a practiced lady"s maid.
First, silence cloaked the whole of the great hall, then whispered murmurs filled the air.
When he ate in the great hall in his kingdom, the place was nosier than blazes. Were the dark fae always this quiet, or was it because of his visit?
Pins scattered all over the floor as he pulled off the hat and a maid quickly rushed forth from one of the lower tables at the queen"s beckoning, and the woman took the hat away.
Smudges of fine red clay dusted Ritasia"s ivory cheeks, although the color rose in them again as he stared at her beauty. Dark tendrils of curls fell to her shoulders, while some of her hair was still pinned up. She was a vision, tussled, down-to-earth, simply dressed, no jewels or any kind of finery, a vision.
She quickly looked away and poked at her sweet brown bread with a knife as if seeing if the piece of the loaf was alive.
Surely other men saw just how attractive she was, and she had to be used to having men stare at her in such a way.
Tiernan caught his advisor"s eye, whose questioning gaze asked if she indeed was the one. He had no idea. Not yet. Only time would tell.
“What is it you wished to see at the dig?” he whispered to Ritasia, not wishing anyone at the high table to know what they planned to do.
“Nothing much.”
He stared at her, not believing a word she said. “Oh? Then why go tonight? Why not wait until tomorrow when the men are working on the dig? When it"s easier to see in the daylight?”
“I will be stuck with you, if my mother has her way and you do not object.”
He smiled at her, unable to help himself. “Interesting choice of words, my lady.” He was so used to women being demure around him, hanging on his every word, willing to grant his every wish, he didn"t expect this kind of reaction from any woman. He wasn"t sure how to take her but be amused by her sauciness. “If you were not stuck with me, what else would you fill your day with? Needlework and singing with the ladies?”
She looked at him as if he was out of his mind. “How droll.”
He had thought the sphinx fae, Prince Ragland, had not been telling the truth about the lady. He glanced around the hall. He thought the prince would have been here, would have warned the princess of the king"s coming, but it appeared she was too late in arriving at the meal, and the prince was nowhere in sight.
“I would be at the digs, as is my duty,” she said, fingering her bread. He"d never seen anyone play with her food as much as she did.
“I"ve heard it said the excavation site does not truly interest you.” Although when he had watched her scrambling over the pillars, she had looked determined to do something, and she had appeared to be enjoying the day.
“Who would have told you that, my lord?”
“Prince Ragland.”
“Oh.”
So the prince had been telling the truth about that. “I thought he might have even been here tonight.”
“My mother said he could not stay for the meal.”
Tiernan smiled. So her mother wished a chance at an alliance with his kingdom instead of Prince Raglan"s.
“But you have had a change of heart about the digs,” Tiernan said.
She shrugged.
“Why?
She looked up at him, parted her lips as if to speak, and in that instant, he wanted more than anything in the world to press his mouth against hers, to kiss the wine staining her lips, to feel the warmth and softness that he knew would be his to enjoy if he did so. And to see and feel her reaction to him.
Now her cheeks were freshly full of color.
The women from his kingdom and beyond his realm who would have been suitable brides were afraid of him. But Ritasia—he made her blush.
He smiled. He liked the idea of having a blushing bride.
She tossed that notion out on its ear when she frowned and whispered, “"Tis none of your concern.”
But where she was concerned, he was highly interested.
When the meal ended, the queen wished a word with Ritasia, and he knew she would berate her daughter, most likely for both her appearance and her performance tonight and command her to be on her best behavior from here on out.
To forestall the inevitable and rescue the lady as it suited his purpose, he offered his arm to Ritasia. “It is getting so late, can you not speak with her in the morn? I wish to walk with her in the gardens this eve.”
Queen Irenis glowered at Ritasia, a look that told her to mind her manners, then she managed a smile at the king. “By all means, my lord. Enjoy your walk.” But he could tell the queen would have words with Ritasia once he returned her to the castle.
Moments later, they had barely reached the wrought iron gate to the gardens surrounded by a hedge wall of tall green yew and the walk where he would learn more about the prince when Ritasia jerked her arm free from his. Before he could react, she vanished.
Cursing his folly for not holding the minx"s arm more tightly, he transported to the ruins, thinking she had to have gone there. He had a devil of a time locating her, even thinking that she might not have come here after all. He even envisioned her reclining naked in a bath in her bedchambers—which made him think of her in an entirely inappropriate way—while she would be relishing the fact that she"d outfoxed him.
If that had been the case, he was of half a mind to remove her from her chambers and force her to walk with him in the gardens, properly dressed, of course, as he had told her mother he would do. He might not be a tyrannical king, but there were limits even he would reach when it came to his patience.
Holding a fae created light with his hands, he suddenly caught a glimpse of the princess and hurried forth, wondering what she was doing, crouched in the dirt, brushing something away with her hands and realized then how fine her fingers were, delicate, so much smaller than his own.
Looking at the way she crouched there, he thought it absurd to even consider wedding such a wench who would be his future queen. And yet, he couldn"t help but be drawn to her. And he was glad she was here and not sitting in a bath in her chambers trying to rile him. Although thinking of her in the bath again was his undoing.
“We were to come here together,” he said darkly. “That was the agreement.”
“You knew I"d be here,” she hastily said, still carefully brushing
away the dirt, searching for something with her fingers.
Right that instant, she made him think of a willful kitten he"d had as a boy. The fae didn"t often have pets, but when he was in exile, one of the washerwomen had sneaked a marmalade-colored kitten to him so that he"d have someone to play with. Cook had threatened mayhem if she ever saw the clawed devil in her kitchen, yet he"d found her serving the feline warm milk on a snowy day. Fish scraps, too. As fat at his kitten had gotten, he was certain Cook wasn"t the only one who had been feeding the rambunctious kitten.
Trixie had been as playful and mischievous as any fae. She talked back in her cat way when he commanded her to get off his bookshelves, or when she"d attempt to sneak a morsel of chicken off his dinner platter. She cuddled with him when she wanted warmth and affection. And she had played hide and seek, slipping under his bedcovers, and of course he"d have to play with her in response. He had not been her master, the prince, or a future king—not to her. Maybe that"s why he had loved her so much.
Ritasia may not sneak food off his plate, but she was just as mischievously sneaky as Trixie had been.
“Together,” he reminded her. “And if you believe you can do whatever you wish when we have an agreement, princess—” He stopped speaking when he heard a squeak and leaned down to see what she"d uncovered.
“A trapdoor,” she excitedly said. And now he saw a new side of her. Enthusiastic, excited, happy. And he liked seeing her in this way as she smiled up at him, her face so radiant in the glow of their fae light. “I thought it was only a box. But it is a trapdoor.”
She lifted it and dropped it on its back. “Shall we?” She motioned to the steps leading down into the inky blackness.
“We should tell your mother about this, and she"ll have her archeologists—”
Ritasia didn"t wait for him to finish speaking, but hurried down into the abyss, her fairy light casting shadows about her that made her appear ethereal.
“Wait up,” he growled. He had not thought himself easily irked, but then again he"d never met any woman before who hadn"t groveled before him, and he was finding the lady quite a challenge. “Princess,” he said, seizing her arm before she got much farther away from him,
“we…go… together.”
Her gaze darted to meet his, and he got the impression he had frightened her. But only for a moment. She didn"t seem the type who frightened easily.
She gave him an exaggerated curtsey and said, “Of course, my lord. Would you like to lead the way?”
“Nay,” he said curtly and firmly wrapped his fingers around hers. “We stay together at all times.”
He told himself he should take the lady well in hand and return her to the surface, transport her back to the castle, and speak with the queen about the discovery they had made.
Then he would walk with the princess in the gardens as any royal couple might do while he was courting the lady.
But he did wish to see Ritasia as she was, not how she would be if he forced her to go along with his wishes, no matter how much more reasonable they were than hers. And seeing the beautiful fae princess in a dark rocky tunnel was somewhat intriguing. Certainly unusual. Even for him.
“What do you hope to find?” he asked, while they walked through a narrow tunnel dug deep in the earth. He suspected it had been a secret escape tunnel used by the ancient fae who had resided in the castle.
“Probably nothing down here,” she said, her sweet voice echoing off the walls, the sound of dripping water somewhere nearby. The air was colder down here, and he wondered if she was warm enough. Although at least down here there was no chilly breeze.
“Then why are we here?” he asked.
“This is an adventure. Anyone can walk in the castle gardens backlit by torches, the flames wavering in the breeze. No one has probably walked down here in a hundred years or more. Even the ancient fae who lived in the castle now in ruins probably didn"t have any reason to come down here for eons.”
“To escape.”
“Aye. Or perhaps children might have played in these tunnels. But still, it might have been centuries since any of that had happened.”
“What if we get lost? No one knows we"re down here.”
“We can fae transport,” she said easily.
He touched the rough rock wall. “If the rock is not full of iron ore.”
She chewed on her bottom lip and seemed to think better of wandering through the tunnels all night long. Yet, they would surely open up somewhere to the outside, or what good would escape tunnels be if they did not?
But what if whatever movements of the earth that had left the castle in ruins had also blocked any other exit?
“You are probably right,” she finally conceded. She smiled brightly, turned back the way they had come and began walking, her boots clicking on the solid rock again.
“Most likely we would not have found anything,” he said, trying to reassure her, now feeling badly that he"d dampened her enthusiasm, even though she was making the effort to appear undaunted.
She smiled up at him. “I"m sure that you are right. I need a bath and will retire to bed.”
They walked in silence for some time, but he felt uneasy about her change of heart. “You will not return here tonight after I leave you.” He didn"t ask it as a question of her because he didn"t mean it as one.
“Why, my lord, why would I do that?”
“Because somehow you crossed the dragon fae"s path, angering them, and landed in their dungeon. I have no idea what other foolishness you are capable of.” He still couldn"t get over what she"d done and what they"d done in response. Give him a moment alone with the dragon fae who had ordered such a thing, and King Tiernan would have him on his knees begging for mercy.
She stopped and gaped at him. Then she narrowed her eyes, yanked her hand free from his, and folded her arms. “Do not call me foolish when you know nothing of the circumstances, King Tiernan.”
“Then enlighten me, my lady.”
“Why? You have already pronounced judgment. No wonder you are here looking for a bride. I will tell you right now it will not be me.”
He held back a smile. She truly was a challenge. “What if your mother wishes it?”
“She has said she will permit me to choose among my suitors.”
He thought if he played his cards right, her mother would hasten to agree to allow her daughter to wed him. He was a king after all. Of a major kingdom. “And when she tires of you saying no?”
“I will find the right one someday.”
“How many kings have offered for you?” He didn"t know why the words spilled out of his mouth. He had not offered for her and had no attention of doing so before getting to know her better.
She turned and stormed off. “None. And it is my fervent desire that it shall stay that way.”
He stalked after her and took her hand. Looking down at her, he said, “Why? Because you cannot wind me around your fingers like a strand of hair?”
And then in the dark, her face flushed and angry, he pulled her close and kissed her.
Although he hadn"t meant to. But she was just too appealing. Too defiant not to.
His mouth pressed softly against hers at first, his hands cupping her face, his heart thundering like hers was.
When she didn"t pull away, or slap his face but lightly touched his arms as if in agreement, he deepened the kiss. „Twas nothing like he"d ever experienced—her warm soft lips brushing his, her wine-sweetened tongue tentatively touching his.
And here they were in the dark, underground with no chaperone for the lady, no way of anyone even knowing where they were. He hastily, albeit reluctantly— very reluctantly—pulled away, kissed her forehead and took her hand, then began walking back to the stairs that would take them out of here.
Neither of them spoke a word, but her hand clinging to his told him all he needed to know. She was not opposed to his kissing her, and he suspected she liked it as much as he had.
Well, more than like
d it. Her pulse was still beating as rapidly as his was.
She had leaned against him, her heart beating as fast as a race horse"s, a puzzled expression on her face when he had forced himself to pull away. He loved how she didn"t see him as a monster, how she didn"t lower her lashes, well, except to fall under the spell of his kiss, but not before that. Not when he leaned down to kiss her, like some women would do, as if they had to acquiesce to his power, his rule. Instead, she had looked up at him, wide-eyed, innocent, and interested.
He thought, though since he had not done so with anyone else before so he wasn"t perfectly certain, that he might be falling in love. He could easily feel that way about Ritasia when she wasn"t giving him grief and returned tenderness instead. The grief was part of the package, and he rather liked her spunkiness. He didn"t think he"d ever find a woman who would speak her mind with him like the dark fae would. And that more than intrigued him.
After a ponderous silence, their footfalls clapping on the uneven rock floor, she finally asked, “Do you often kiss women like that?”
He smiled at her question. She wanted to know if she was special. “In dark ancient tunnels when the lady is a princess from another major kingdom, no.”
“Be serious.”
“I am serious.” She had to know that as well as he kissed her, it was not the first time for him. But it was the first that he"d had a devil of a time breaking off the kiss. He looked down at her. She seemed deep in thought. “Do you often kiss men like that?”
Not that he thought she did. She seemed inexperienced. Willing, but unsure of herself as to what to do.
“In dark ancient tunnels where the nobleman is a king from another major kingdom, no,”
she said.
He laughed and his laughter bounced off the walls in a mirthful cascade of echoes. The lady was a delight. The blush returned to her cheeks.
When they reached the stairs, something seemed wrong. He felt the area closed in, the fresh air from the outside no longer sifting in from the open trapdoor. The dark enveloped them from up above and down below, except for where their fae light dispensed the blackness in a half arc in front of them. So he couldn"t see the matter. But he still felt boxed in.
