Sword of Rage: Reigning Kingdoms, Book 1

by Jennifer Anne Davis

  Her mother always did take her oaths, secrets, and station seriously. “Can I at least see Father before I leave?”

  “If you stay the night, you can see him in the morning.”

  Ackley’s fingers slid around Harley’s upper arm and he whispered in her ear, “We need to leave. Now.”

  “Please give Father my love.” She squeezed her mother’s hands, then released them.

  “I will.” She kissed Harley’s cheek. “Always remember I love you.”

  Ackley practically dragged Harley out of the manor and along the road. He leaned in and mumbled, “As quickly as possible, we need to get to the house you lived in with Lyle.”

  Since it was dark out, heading straight through the city would probably be the fastest and easiest way to get there.

  “And don’t use any of the main roads.”

  That would be more difficult. Regardless, she nodded and led him off the road and onto the neighbor’s property. “There are horses in the back pasture.” They could ride around the city, reaching Lyle’s house in an hour or so. “Why did we leave so quickly? What do you think was going on?”

  “There was a sleeping tonic in the tea.”

  Which explained why he hadn’t touched his drink. “How do you know?”

  “I could smell it.”

  She supposed an assassin would have such skills. “I can’t imagine why there’d be sleeping tonic in it.” Neither her mother nor Carietta would intentionally harm her.

  “Your mother seemed nervous. And she clearly knows something you don’t. Do you have any idea what she was referring to before we left?”

  Harley hadn’t come up with anything yet, so she shook her head.

  Ackley opened the gate to the pasture, allowing Harley to enter first. “Why did your father have you marry Lyle?”

  She bristled at the mention of Lyle. Being married to him had been lonely and degrading. Thankfully, she hadn’t been married to him long. If she’d had to endure his negative and belittling comments for years, it would have destroyed her. Not wanting to discuss Lyle, she headed straight for three horses.

  Ackley quickly deemed one suitable. When Harley went to get a smaller horse, he grabbed her arm, pulling her closer to him. “We’ll ride together.”

  The intensity in his eyes and voice sent a jolt of pleasure through her. Not understanding her body’s reaction to this arrogant, cocky, assassin-prince, she rounded her shoulders and responded, “I am perfectly capable of riding on my own.” Just because he thought she was a weak, helpless female, didn’t mean she couldn’t take care of herself.

  “It’s too dangerous. I don’t know what’s going on here, but something is amiss. We stick together.” His hands slid around her waist, and she yelped from the touch. His eyebrows rose. “Problem?”

  “No.” His hands remained firmly planted on her waist, making her body feel like it was on fire. He lifted her onto the horse, then climbed on behind her. As his body shifted closer to hers, an unbidden desire flared within her. “Is this really necessary?” she hissed. Every time he touched her, her body had these strange reactions. Maybe that was why he did it—to prove he had the upper hand.

  Lowering his voice, he said, “Is what necessary?” He shifted closer as he urged the horse on.

  She tried to twist around to slap him. However, with his arms wrapped around her upper body, she couldn’t move. Feeling his strong arms below her bosom only fueled the fire building inside of her.

  Licking her lips, she tried to rein in her rising desire. Maybe if she kissed him and got it out of her system, his voice wouldn’t send ripples of pleasure through her and the mere touch of his hand wouldn’t make her feel warmth blossoming within. Not once had any man made her feel a fraction of what Ackley did. “I’m perfectly capable of mounting a horse on my own.”

  “Even in a dress?” His voice held a hint of laughter.

  “I just don’t think it’s appropriate for the two of us to be so physically close.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was making you uncomfortable.”

  “You’re not. I mean, I just don’t think this is suitable behavior for a prince.”

  He chuckled and steered the horse up the hill so they could skirt around the city. “You’re not saying anything I haven’t heard before.” He shifted his body, pressing against her as the horse traversed down a short slope.

  Briefly, she wondered what being with Ackley would be like. With Lyle, he’d always been so quick and forceful with her, that she’d never enjoyed herself. She assumed she wasn’t supposed to. She was there simply for his pleasure. After all, she was a woman. She couldn’t own land or work and had no value in anything other than what she could give her husband.

  This was the first time she considered that being with someone could be enjoyable based upon her body’s reactions to this man sitting behind her. However, if she were to ever be with a man again, he would have to be kind and gentle. And this assassin-prince was neither of those things.

  “Are you okay?” Ackley asked, his breath brushing past her ear.

  “I’m perfectly fine, thank you.”

  “You never answered my question,” he reminded her. “Why did your father have you marry Lyle?”

  “My family is very wealthy. Commander Beck wanted his son to be a captain. My parents needed to appoint a new one. My father liked the idea of me living so close to home and being taken care of.” Honestly, she knew what Commander Beck and Lyle had gotten out of the match; as to what benefit her parents received, other than having her married off, she had no idea. It wasn’t like he was the only suitor—she’d had several. However, for whatever reason, her father deemed Lyle the most advantageous.

  “We’ve reached the end of the city,” Ackley murmured. “Where to?”

  She blinked, trying to refocus. “Head east. Cut along the edge of the forest.” Her house wasn’t far from here. And she was going to take Ackley inside of it. What would he glean from this invasion into her life? Panic started to swell. “Is this necessary?” If he thought something amiss, shouldn’t they just leave and return to Owen?

  “Pardon?”

  “Going to Lyle’s house. Is it necessary?” Lyle was dead. There was nothing to be learned from intruding in on her privacy.

  “Yes.” He hesitated a moment before continuing. “Commander Beck wasn’t a good man. Since Lyle was his son, I need to investigate.”

  That was what she feared. “Why?”

  “I believe Beck was involved with the takeover. I’m going to see if there’s anything that supports my theory.”

  She didn’t know how Beck would have been involved since he was in another kingdom when the takeover happened.

  “The commander and a large portion of the army were gone, which makes me wonder if this entire thing was orchestrated,” Ackley said, answering her unasked question.

  “Turn here,” she instructed him. Although she understood the need to investigate Beck, she didn’t know why Ackley wanted to go to Lyle’s house. Beck hadn’t lived there.

  He steered the horse out of the forest.

  “My house is right over there.” Twenty feet from the tree line, a stone wall surrounded Lyle’s property. The main house was the building on the right; to the left, the stables and Lyle’s workshop. A small garden separated the house from the paddock. While it was a perfectly respectable house, it wasn’t nearly as grand as her parents’ manor.

  Ackley pulled the horse to a halt and dismounted, observing the area.

  Harley remained on the horse, silently waiting for Ackley to decide what he wanted to do.

  “We’re at the back end of the house?”

  She nodded.

  “So the road and the front of the house are directly on the other side from where we are?”

  “Yes.”

  “Any other entrances?”

  “There is a gate in the wall to your left.” The dark night and thick fog made it difficult to see it, but she knew exactly where
it was. She’d come out here at night often enough. “From there, you can access the back door of the house.”

  “Dismount. We’ll head to the stables. If everything appears normal there, we’ll enter the house.”

  “I’ll remain here with the horse.” There was no need for her to go inside with Ackley.

  “I intend for us to spend the night here. I’ll investigate while you sleep.”

  He’d need to sleep, too. She was fairly certain he’d stayed up all last night keeping watch while she slept. Glancing at the dark house in the distance, Harley took a deep, calming breath, then dismounted. Maybe going inside would be good for her. She could say goodbye to this part of her life so she could put it behind her. Thankfully, she hadn’t been married long. If years or decades had passed, she wondered if Lyle would have broken her spirit. If she would have given up.

  She walked on the horse’s right side, Ackley on its left. He didn’t make any sounds as they approached the wall. She unlatched the gate, pushing it open.

  “I don’t see anyone,” he whispered. “Regardless, stay close to the horse just in case.”

  Neither spoke as they crossed the property. When they reached the stables, he stepped forward and slid the door open, inspecting inside before waving Harley in. She led the horse to an empty stall.

  “How many horses do you have?”

  “Four. But we took them to the royal castle.”

  “Good, since the stalls are empty.”

  She closed the stall gate and joined Ackley.

  “How many servants do you employ?” They exited the stables.

  “None. Lyle didn’t want anyone around.” She did all the work around the house.

  “Why?”

  “He was paranoid.” He thought people were spying on him and reporting his movements to someone—who, she had no idea.

  They reached the back door. Harley placed her fingers on the handle and froze. Taking this assassin-prince into her house felt too intimate. He saw details and understood things that most people didn’t. Once he went inside, he would know Lyle mistreated her. Would he think less of her?

  “Is everything all right?” Ackley asked as he scanned the surrounding land again.

  “Yes.” The answer came out weaker than she intended. Taking a deep breath, she slowly let it out and pushed open the door. The familiar smell of Lyle greeted her, making her want to gag. She stepped into the dark kitchen.

  “You’re shaking.” Ackley closed the door. Instead of asking her why, he simply passed through the kitchen, pausing at the doorway. “Wait here. I’m going to make sure no one’s in the house.” He slunk away, melting into the shadows.

  Harley remained standing there, wishing she was anywhere but back in the house she’d shared with Lyle.

  A few minutes later, Ackley returned. “All clear.” He waved her over.

  She followed him into the narrow hallway, trying to see things through his eyes. No portraits adorned the walls, no flowers filled the vases, no knitted blankets were on the sofa, and there wasn’t any cut wood for the fireplace.

  In the sitting room, Ackley turned in a slow circle. “Where did Lyle spend most of his time?”

  “His workshop.” She pointed outside to the other building.

  “What about here in the main house?”

  “His office.” She led him down a short hallway and to a closed door, gesturing toward it. She’d never been inside. Lyle hadn’t allowed it. He said if she stepped foot in there, he would consider it a violation of his privacy. He said that this was his home, not hers, and as such, she wasn’t afforded a private space of her own since he deemed it unnecessary.

  Ackley reached for the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. He pulled a dagger from his sleeve, inserted it into the lock, and popped the pin, releasing the door. Slowly pushing it open, he peered inside. “Can you get me a candle?”

  Harley went to the kitchen and procured two candles, lighting them. She went back to the entrance of Lyle’s office, handing one to Ackley.

  He took it and stepped inside. “You don’t have to do this with me. You can go and prepare for bed. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

  With her heart pounding wildly in her chest, she nodded. “You’ll want to look through his workshop as well.” She couldn’t believe she was in Lyle’s house with Ackley and that he was going through Lyle’s possessions.

  “I’ll go there after I’m done here.”

  “Let me know if you need anything.” She headed up the stairs, several of them creaking under her weight. At the top, she made her way to her bedchamber, hovering at the entrance, not really wanting to go in. But she needed fresh clothes and wanted to pack a few things to take with her.

  She went over to the dresser, setting the candle in a holder. Glancing at her reflection, she gasped. Her knotted hair stuck up in all directions and dirt covered her right cheek. Her mother had been right—it looked as if she’d slept with pigs. Her first order of business would be to wash up.

  Not wanting to bother heating the water, she grabbed two bucketfuls and dumped them in the wash basin. Then she scrubbed her body. Once she finished, she put on clean clothes and brushed her hair. Afterward, she packed a couple of dresses in her bag.

  Since she hadn’t eaten all day, her stomach growled with hunger. She went to the kitchen in search of food. Most of the items had rotted, so she trekked out to the garden. The dark night made it difficult to navigate through the various vegetables. However, she’d planted and maintained this garden, so she knew where each item was. She pulled up a few carrots, some potatoes, and a couple of onions. Back in the kitchen, she proceeded to make soup for her and Ackley.

  Not hearing any noises coming from elsewhere in the house, she suspected Ackley had gone out to Lyle’s workshop. The windows were covered and the door always locked, so she had no idea what was even in there since she’d never stepped foot inside. Hopefully, he’d find something useful.

  Once the soup was done, she sat and ate in silence. Just like she always did. Lyle oftentimes worked late into the night. When he came home from work, Harley knew what he wanted. After he took his pleasures, he usually retreated to his workshop.

  When she finished eating, she pushed the bowl away. The house was eerily silent. Perhaps knowing Lyle wouldn’t come in gave it a new stillness.

  Seconds, minutes, hours passed. Time lost all meaning.

  Ackley entered through the back door. “What are you doing in the kitchen?”

  “I made soup.” She pointed to the pot behind her, hanging over the low fire.

  He grabbed a bowl and scooped himself a large helping. Sitting on a stool across from her at the kitchen table, he started eating. After a few bites, he said, “I thought you’d be asleep by now. It’s after midnight.”

  She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything. Exhaustion consumed her bones, but she couldn’t make herself move.

  “You look better,” he said around a mouthful of food.

  “I can’t believe you let me walk into my mother’s home looking like a servant.”

  “You know, this soup isn’t half bad.” He took another bite, then asked, “How long were you and Lyle married?”

  “Not long, but long enough.” She propped her chin on her hands. “Are you done looking through everything?”

  “I am.”

  “And?”

  He took a bite of soup before answering. “I found a few letters between Lyle and his father. I’m taking them with us. It is for Owen to decide what he wants to do with the information.”

  “In your opinion, did Beck have something to do with the takeover?”

  His eyes darkened, and he focused on his soup. “I believe so. But I don’t have anything concrete.”

  She wanted him to extrapolate, but he didn’t.

  “You’re different here.” He finished his soup, setting his spoon in the bowl.

  “How so?”

  “You’re quiet. More reserved.�
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  She hadn’t realized that. Standing, she picked up the bowls, taking them over to the counter to clean.

  “Is there a room I can sleep in?”

  A laugh escaped her lips at the idea of another man spending the night in Lyle’s house.

  Ackley’s eyes narrowed.

  “What’s that look for?” she asked, leading him out of the kitchen and to the staircase.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you laugh.” They went up to the second floor. “It’s good to see you smile.”

  Her face warmed at the compliment. “You can sleep in here.” She stopped before the door on the left. “I’ll be in the room to your right.”

  “Is that the bedchamber you shared with Lyle?”

  “No. It’s a guest room.”

  “Can I see Lyle’s bedchamber?”

  “This way.” She led him down the hallway and to the right. “In here.” She opened the door.

  He stepped inside and went over to the fireplace. Kneeling, he started to build a fire. Harley sat on the edge of the bed, watching him.

  “Since you’re so young,” he said as he worked, “will you remarry?” He glanced over his shoulder at her. In the dim candlelight, she could just make out the smirk he gave her before he said, “After all, a woman needs a man to survive.”

  “Are you teasing me?” It was late, and she was too tired to deal with his jokes. The wood crackled as the fire took. “And why did you make a fire when no one is sleeping in here tonight?”

  He stood, hands on his hips, observing her. “To answer your first question, yes, I’m teasing you.” The room started to glow as the fire grew. Ackley began walking around the room, looking over the dresser, bed, and armoire, though he didn’t touch a single thing. “To answer your second question, I want smoke to be seen from your chimney. I’m wondering if someone is looking for you.”

  Her eyes widened. “You set a trap?” And she was the bait?

  “Yes. Since you won’t be in this room, you’ll be fine.”

  “Now I won’t be able to sleep.” She rubbed her face, remembering the men who’d followed them when they first entered the city. She’d been so overwhelmed seeing her mother alive that she’d completely forgotten about the encounter until now.