Valiant (The Blood Trail Chronicles Book 3)

by AE Watson

  Along the way, he stopped and introduced me to the important people, some I’d even met as a girl. Though they recalled me with better detail than I did them.

  When we reached his seat, he spoke in a low tone, “I meant to tell you last night, but we became distracted. Prince Erick of Montagne is here. Surely, you know of him. He was to be king in Montagne, but he bent the knee to Michael and will remain the prince and steward of the people there.” His eyes darted to mine.

  “Prince Erick, of course.” I winced as I recalled Michael’s words on him.

  “You killed his father, I believe.” He chuckled.

  “That was not me,” I whispered. Egar’s eyes widened and it was my turn to chuckle. “Michael has a coldness to him that even I wasn’t aware of.”

  “How interesting.” He raised his eyebrows before taking a glass of mulled wine from the server with the tray who presented herself to us. “To Michael and his cold heart.” He lifted the glass and I tapped mine to his.

  “To the king, long may he reign.”

  “Indeed. Erick’s father was a shit anyway.” We sipped and scanned the room of people watching us as they pretended to mingle. After a few moments he leaned in and whispered, “You do realize Michael believes Erick to be the answer to your spinsterhood, right?” Egar laughed again.

  “Yes, but you and my brother need not concern yourselves over whether I marry or not. And focus on your own cold empty beds.” I sniffed.

  “I hate to make a statement about Michael’s bed, but I can assure mine is neither empty nor cold.” He winked, making me grimace.

  “I forget how alike you are to Ed sometimes.”

  “That is someone I miss. I do hope he and I see each other again. Ruling on opposite sides of the continent makes it hard to imagine when it will happen.” He sounded genuinely forlorn over the notion.

  “I’m as sorry to place this at your feet as I was his. But a steward must be carefully chosen from those most loyal and capable. And there is no one better than a member of the royal family.”

  “Speaking of royal families.” Egar motioned his head toward the crowd.

  I followed his gaze to a handsome man making his way to us. He was tall and broad, as Egar was, and every person that caught his eye bowed deeply. He was well loved whoever he was. Men shook his hands and women stared far beyond what was acceptable, even in the North.

  Egar and he smiled wide at one another as he walked with long strides to my cousin.

  They barely bowed before moving in to hug tightly. It was the embrace of men who were not only fond but comfortable with one another. At our rank that was never easy to find. “You made it!” Egar said.

  “I did. The roads were well traveled. We had no issues.”

  I stood slowly, not sure what to expect.

  “Prince Erick, this is my cousin Princess Amillia.” Egar held out a hand to me though the man’s stare shifted from excitement to see Egar and landed at marked indifference. “Surely, you have heard of one another well enough by this point that a more detailed introduction would be a waste of my breath.”

  “Indeed.” Prince Erick sniffed. “Your Grace.” He offered me a bow but did not take my hand or give off any of the warmth he had for my cousin.

  I bowed back stiffly, mimicking his movements almost exactly. “Your Grace. My brother Michael speaks highly of you.”

  When I lifted my stare to his again his dark eyes flickered with emotion and narrowed, as if he searched me for a hint of insincerity. “Your brother is too kind,” he offered but his distrust of me was undeniable. “And he of course has my highest respect.”

  Egar snorted and glanced away from us.

  “Of course,” the words left my lips quietly and placed us in an awkward silence. “What brings you so far west?” I asked, trying to be my mother’s daughter and my brother’s diplomat.

  “I came to see my friend.” He nodded at Egar. “I was unaware we would be graced with your presence, considering it’s Yule. I would think you’d spend it with your brothers or grandmother.” He was good at this, asking questions without answering them.

  “Yes, an unanticipated journey for me,” I replied, offering no details.

  “Well, what a blessing for the rest of us.” He made it sound more like a curse. “Perhaps, you will save me a dance,” Prince Erick said but there was no feeling behind the statement. It was an obligatory thing to say.

  “I should be delighted, Your Grace,” I replied with the same lack of emotion. It was a new experience for me, being the girl I was meant to be and using the manners my mother had beaten into me. This was an act I’d avoided forever and now that I spoke for Michael, I had to welcome the undertaking of being a lady.

  “Egar, I should love to chat over a wine, when you’re free.” He bowed sharply and turned, leaving us to sit again.

  My insides churned with discomfort. When had anyone hated me this much upon just meeting me? A list of people flooded my head and I pushed the thoughts away as my cheeks flushed, realizing maybe I was the problem and not him at all.

  “That had all the warmth of an ice storm,” Egar lamented. “But you were surprisingly civil. You didn’t even try to hit him once.”

  “Shut up.” I nudged him, losing some of the demure act I relied on to get me through the evening. “And how could I be anything but? He is Michael’s ally. A steward of our neighboring kingdom in the North. But by that reaction, I have to assume he believes I murdered his father?” I asked.

  “I suspect, yes. As everyone does.” Egar glanced at me. “And he was a good friend of the Benoit family. I have heard of your slaughter of them. Leaving only little Daniel Benoit alive. Not even sparing his mother to raise him. As far as I heard, Erick’s family was outraged at your actions.”

  “His taciturnity makes sense then,” I whispered and sipped my wine. “Perhaps we will continue to allow him and everyone else to believe I was the one who killed his father.”

  Egar’s stare widened. “You wish to rob your brother of the notoriety of getting his own vengeance?”

  “I wish to allow him and Erick a true friendship where one doesn’t wonder at whether or not Erick will take his own revenge one day.”

  “Well done, you!” Egar grinned. “Playing the diplomat for once instead of having your knives out. Perhaps, you are smarter than you look, Millia,” he muttered and sipped his wine.

  “Then we really must be related,” I retorted, making him laugh loudly.

  Eyes drew to us, dancing with interest and delight.

  I held my pasted-on smile and allowed my gaze to drift. My mother had not lived to see it, but I could act the proper lady. When I needed to. It was something I wasn’t sure I was capable of until this moment.

  The song changed to something fast-paced. The prince danced with a stunning dark-haired girl. She looked to be from the South with her silky bronzed skin. Sun-kissed was how Ed had described it. Her colorful dress flashed in the crowd of girls wearing what I had to assume was this season’s choice of a proper gown. Even in the North, nobility knew of fashion and style. I was the lone person wearing yellow. Every other girl apart from the one dancing with the prince wore silver of a sort. As if their dresses had been blue or green or pink but were frosted in ice. They shimmered as they moved to the lively music.

  The prince’s stare caught mine as he passed by. If looks could kill I would have died on that spot.

  I wondered if he might seek his revenge.

  Instead, he did something much worse.

  The song ended and he walked to me, hand out. “Shall we, Princess?”

  “Of course,” I mustered a response and stood, allowing him to take my gloved hand in his.

  My insides churned as I let him lead me to the dance floor. It cleared as if it were expected to give us the floor.

  The cellists and violinists began to play softly. I didn’t recognize the song or the dance. As we were alone and not lined up with others, I had to assume it was a waltz of some so
rt.

  My heart raced as we squared off and he stared down on me. His fingers held mine tightly. “Do you know this dance?”

  “No,” I didn’t bother lying.

  “Have you done a Florentian Waltz before? Surely, your grandmother taught you that—she’s from Florents, is she not?” He was cold but not unkind or mocking.

  “I do know the Florentian Waltz.” Just enough to not make a fool of myself. “Though I haven’t done one in ages.”

  He lifted my hand with one hand and placed his other hand on the small of my back. “Do you struggle with letting men lead?” The question was charged.

  “I do,” I admitted, nervous about making a fool of us both but pretending to be comfortable with this.

  “Trust me,” he said and the tempo changed. He pulled me into him, pressing my chest into his ribs, sweeping me along the floor. The steps were quick and fluid. For a sizable man he moved perfectly, spinning and twirling me across the floor. As we did our first lap, others joined but in the dizzying dancing, I was lost to anyone else. The music grew louder as his grip tightened on my hand. He held me so close to him I could taste the fragrance he wore in my inhales. It was a musk of some sort. Heady and seductive.

  He led with flair and perfection.

  We didn’t speak, not that I could; I focused hard on not messing up the steps.

  As the song neared its end, he spun me again and again and again until we had crossed the whole floor. He then slowed the spinning and pulled me in, taking us on a turn and delicately laying me back into a deep dip. My few loose curls rested on the floor as I gulped for breath and to hold back the shiver he had induced in me. His warm and excited exhales against my bare arms and shoulders stole my ability to remain taciturn. As did my rising and falling chest. He brought me back to standing and smiled though it was as frosty as the air outside.

  “Thank you.” He bowed and kissed my hand, lingering with his lips for only a moment. Not the kiss of a man who was enchanted by me. I knew that kiss.

  “You dance quite well,” I admitted, complimenting him against my better judgement.

  “I know.” He offered an insincere smile and walked away, leaving me standing in the middle of the floor.

  All eyes were on me.

  Chapter 5

  “Time to eat.” Egar stood, rescuing me from the dancefloor and all the scrutiny of my interaction with Prince Erick. Egar walked to me, arm extended. As I joined him, we made our way to the banquet hall. “He is a fine dancer, is he not?”

  “Very fine,” I offered quietly. “Though he seems full of himself. When I complimented him on his dancing, he said, ‘I know.’”

  “Of course he did.” He chuckled.

  “How do you know him so well?”

  “He was at school with Michael, Ed, and me. He is a good man.” He led me to one of the massive wooden tables. It was obviously the head table where he normally sat. I loved the way the decor up here used the rustic flair of the northern woods and combined it with the delicate and fancy dinnerware and finery of the South.

  I stood by my seat and my insides knotted as I realized I would be seated next to Prince Erick. Of course I would be. He hardly acknowledged me as he stood in front of his chair though the scent of him seemed to permeate the air.

  Whatever magic lingered inside me was triggered by him and his scent. There was a lust I couldn’t control. I hated that about myself. My heart was broken for Maddox and Grayson, but my body would gladly allow Erick to fill whatever carnal void I had. I pushed the desire and need down.

  When Egar sat, we joined him, and the remaining guests took their seats.

  “Let’s begin!” Egar shouted, his voice echoing across the great hall.

  Servants came by the dozens, bringing silver trays of food and placing them in front of us. When everyone had a tray, the lids were removed starting by importance in society.

  I sat still, waiting and not sure how to begin a conversation with the prince. Or if I even should. Proper decorum suggested he should speak first, as the man and my equal in rank. The rules of polite society played in my mind, always with my mother’s voice. I didn’t know them by heart. I had to search my memories to find them filed away.

  The ruckus of the dishes being served and silverware beginning to clink against the china took over the music which played faintly from the far side of the room.

  “And how is it you have found yourself this far north, Princess?” Erick asked, fulfilling his obligations to begin the conversation with his neighbor.

  “I am searching for a friend. A man I wish to place as a steward in Midland.”

  “You’re placing people in their positions as steward?” he asked.

  “On my brother’s orders, obviously,” I said it as if it had been implied. In my mind it was. “He can’t very well traipse about the countryside as we transition the continent back to one ruler. He’s building a castle, managing the repairs needed, organizing an army to take on Queen regent Anamay. As his sister, it is my responsibility to shoulder some of this burden.”

  “And you’re looking for a friend to place in that position.” He scoffed. “Princess, I won’t deny it, but I did not think you had those.” His words were a not so slight stab wound. One I deserved.

  “Actually, I have three friends, Your Highness.” I returned the jovial and mocking nature though the words were near truth.

  “Let me guess, they are all men?” His eyes danced with humor when our stare met.

  How dare he!

  I slapped back, not using my hands though I so badly wanted to. “They are, but one is a dragon. I suppose the other two are former lovers.” I pretended to be proud of this fact, making his cheeks blush this time. “Why else would men befriend women? We have nothing in common, apart from your desire to bed us and our desire to wed you.” I mocked. “I’m sure you understand the struggle of the maidens who wish to wed. You must be surrounded by desperate mothers trying to marry you off to their daughters at every turn.”

  Egar choked on a bite of roasted boar. I patted him on the back as he struggled to swallow. “You have me there, Princess. I dare say it is true. Men wish to bed and women wish to wed. Why else would we become friends?”

  “Certainly it’s not the stimulating conversation or companionship. As we women are known for neither.” I took a bite of roast, chewing daintily while glaring at him.

  “Does fighting in the underground boxing matches in Watergate City count as stimulating companionship or are you only speaking of the allowable pastimes women engage in such as embroidery? Because you’re correct, I do find talk of knitting quite dull.” He beamed as it was my turn to choke a little on my bite.

  I washed it down with wine and pretended to be fine. “Underground boxing matches?” I feigned ignorance. “Is there really such a beastly thing? As you must know, a princess wouldn’t have knowledge of those places. And you should guard yourself against speaking of them to me. It’s indecent, sir.”

  He leaned in as he stared forward at the room filled with people conversing and enjoying their meal. His whispers brushed against my cheek as he spoke, “I would never want to offend you, Princess. Gods forbid I end up on that list of yours.”

  My cheeks flushed again but I managed to maintain my imperturbable composure. “Indeed, Your Grace.” I turned and looked up at him, our faces so close I still felt his breath on mine. “That would be regrettable. The world would surely miss such light and fancy footwork. Perhaps next time we dance, it will be on my terms and you will let me lead and show you my own footwork.” I grinned, accidentally threatening him at dinner. My mother was likely watching me from the stars and groaning.

  “How is your kingdom getting along, Erick?” Egar asked loudly, forcing Erick’s stare from mine and saving us from where I’d led the conversation.

  “Quite well. We had a booming year for grapes. The season ended with a bountiful harvest. Even though the change of rulers has been felt,” he said, his gaze fixed on my cous
in’s as if he was ignoring me now.

  “Yes, we have felt it here too. Quite a difference from King Henry to Roland and now King Michael. Though I’ve enjoyed the change from Roland to Michael,” Egar spoke over the noise, likely hoping to boast of his support of my brother.

  “King Michael will be an excellent ruler. More reminiscent of his father, I should think. King Henry was a great man and a greater king.” Prince Erick’s eyes darted to mine again. “I was with your brother not too long ago. Did he tell you? We met to discuss our kingdom’s future.”

  I wanted to lie but was uncertain what he knew. “Yes, he did mention that.” I couldn’t help but wonder if Michael had also mentioned the fact he would like Erick and me to marry. I prayed to the gods that he had not but was curious if the mention of marriage explained at least some of his disdain for me.

  “Did he also tell you that I was a good friend of the Benoit family?”

  “I have been made aware of that fact.” I glanced at him, daring him to challenge me on the decision I’d made.

  “Young Daniel has been placed in my family’s care. My sister has taken him in as her ward. His relations in Midland and Montagne were terrified to allow him into their homes. Certain an assassin might come for them in the night if they did.”

  My heart tugged a little for the small boy but I pushed the feelings of regret down.

  “You never know who is coming for you in the night,” I whispered back, though my lack of empathy for the boy was false. I hated that I hadn’t spared his mother. The slaughter of the party had been merciless and Maddox had been correct. That killer was not who I wanted to be. I’d let the cold hate consume me. But my pride wouldn’t let me show it to anyone.

  Prince Erick’s gaze narrowed again as he took me in. “You are not what I imagined you to be.”

  “How so?” I dared to ask.

  “You’re cold but I expected rougher,” he admitted. “Less refined. My whole life I heard tell of the savage princess of the Black Keep. The girl who offended with her manner and shirked her duties. Always running off covered in mud and almost wild.”