The Rogue Trilogy

by Elizabeth Carlton

  Yet Jaycent knew his intentions were more than just political. Levee’s company was a pleasant distraction from the addled pain of his dreams. To put it simply, she was good for him.

  Adding her to his court would be easy. There was plenty of room in the castle for another horse mistress. Arelee would frolic at the thought of permanent help, and His Highness would have an excuse to partake in the gypsy's company more often.

  Yes, Levee's days at the castle were just beginning. He would see to that.

  “Fear not, Levee Tensley,” he mused. “Home is just around the corner.”

  CROSSROADS

  When the light above the door of Milo's cottage fell into view, Levee's boots might as well have been made of stone. She had returned ahead of the prince so she could discreetly release Melee to the pasture before he arrived.

  Jaycent, on the other hand, was perfectly at ease. As she drew toward the door, he dismounted in front of the cottage and strode toward her, his gait light as if the mimic attack and Patchi’s foreboding words had never happened.

  Levee held her breath. Not even a fox could slip by Milo’s ears without him being aware, yet he hadn't come out to greet them. The thought alone drew the weight in her shuffling feet up to her worrisome eyes. Her gaze slid down to her boots in solemn anticipation of Milo’s disappointment.

  A calloused hand lifted her chin.

  “Relax, Melah,” Jaycent chided, seemingly fond of honorific Patchi gave her. “You look like you're walking to your own funeral.”

  Levee rubbed the tender skin beneath her jaw, shocked to discover His Highness bore hands molded by hard work. Like Milo, she thought. Her lips pursed into a sour pucker as she derided her own tendency to compare the two rahee.

  Jaycent rapped three times upon the door and waited for Milo to answer. Levee could hear a hobbled pair of steps aided by a firm clack echo inside the cottage. Her heart plummeted into the pit of her stomach as the door creaked open.

  Milo leaned against a wooden cane the healer had loaned to him as peered at the company on his doorstep. His bright eyes narrowed when they fell upon the prince, who in turn stared inquisitively the wooden aid.

  “I heard about your encounter, Milo,” Jaycent said. “By the looks of it, I'd say Levee's story holds little exaggeration.”

  “If you took on an ogre, I’m sure you’d be hurtin' a lil' too,” Milo grunted.

  Levee peeked from behind the towering prince's shoulder and offered an innocent wave. Milo stepped aside without a word and held out his arm, inviting the two inside.

  With a polite nod, the prince accepted. He had to duck to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe; the first of many things quaint in size when it came to the homely cottage. A single couch coupled with a plain, homemade table sat in front of a stone fireplace. The wood flooring seemed relatively new, and the prince guessed that Milo had put it in himself. The workmanship, though not seamless, spoke admirably of the Sarrokian's skill.

  Levee didn't stray beyond the hallway. As Milo turned toward the common room, she caught him by the hand. Before he could even speak, Levee buried her face against his chest where she spilled countless muffled apologies into his shirt. Strong hands tucked Levee into the Sarrokian’s warm embrace.

  “I was worried,” he mumbled against the gypsy's auburn hair. Tender lips rested against the top of her head, and she could feel the caress of his breath as he let out a sigh of relief.

  “I know… I’m sorry,” Levee whispered for the umpteenth time. Jaycent presented an about-face toward the couple. His attention was met by the Sarrokian's pumpkin spice eyes as they glared from underneath a set of thick, black lashes.

  “To what do I owe this visit, Your Highness?” His tone was more courteous than the disdain resonating from his mercurial expression. Ignoring the peasant’s temper, Jaycent folded his hands behind his waist and nodded toward the rahee snuggled within the Sarrokian’s grasp.

  “I thought you deserved an explanation for Levee's tardiness.”

  “It'd be appreciated.”

  Levee's heart pattered in her chest. Stalking the prince was more than just a petty crime. She glanced at His Highness, a silent plea held within her glassy eyes.

  Jaycent nodded, aware of her fear. “Master Kasateno,” the prince motioned to the couch. “If you would, please, have a seat. I would like to speak with you alone.”

  Milo quietly requested Levee retire to her room. She started to protest, but he placed a finger over her lips. “Lemme take care of this, darlin',” he said.

  Reluctantly, Levee obeyed. Milo waited until he heard her bedroom door open and shut before he made his hampered trek from the short hallway into the common room. He used his cane to ease himself onto the couch, but it did not stifle the pain etched into his brow.

  Jaycent plucked a chair from their dining table and set it in front of the empty fireplace, his long legs straddling the hard seat with a creak. Milo tapped a nervous rhythm against the floor with his cane.

  “You should know ogres are not the only things wandering our borders lately,” Jaycent spoke gravely. “This evening Levee was intercepted by a mimic on her ride home.”

  “A mimic?” Milo recalled the image of a ghastly, skeletal creature from childhood tales. He tossed the prince a humored glance. “Ya mean the ghoulish tricksters kids hear about in bedtime stories?”

  “If I were lying to you, Sarrokian, I would have chosen something more believable. What I'm telling you is the truth. You can ask Levee if you doubt me, but they are as real as any of us.”

  Milo sobered his mirth. “Yer sure o' this?” The Sarrokian started to lean forward but a pinch in his side quickly set him back.

  “I slayed the creature myself,” Jaycent confirmed, “You should be thankful Diego and I were close enough to hear Levee’s call for help. Had we not been there, she would not have made it home tonight.”

  His Highness’ words left a deep cut in Milo’s heart. He was Levee’s guardian, but tonight the prince made known on no uncertain terms that he had failed that duty.

  Jaycent continued his tactful approach, shielding his triumph beneath a composed expression. “Young Tensley has proven to be an invaluable part of our team. Her skills have enabled us to continue our cavalry’s training, even when other matters have prevented my participation. However, tonight's events have me concerned over her travel to and from the palace.”

  “It has you concerned?” Milo raised two offended eyebrows. “We've been frettin' over it for weeks! The girl rarely makes it home before nightfall.

  “Now I beg your forgiveness for bein' so bold—” Jaycent had a hard time believing that statement, “—but her safety matters more t' me than your horses!” With a shake of his head, he declared, “I won’t stand for it. Not after tonight. Ya got no right t’ make her travel alone like that.”

  “Do not lecture me about rights, Sarrokian,” the command was a sharp one, though Jaycent's voice remained low and controlled. “And I suggest you put a double bit on that temper of yours before my patience wears thin.

  “I know you fear for her safety. That is why I am here. This trek has become too perilous for her to make on her own, particularly now that these creatures have breached our borders.”

  “Aye, I know it,” Milo's ears swept back, and he turned his head cautiously to the side. “So what are you suggestin'?”

  “I cannot escort her home every night, nor can we spare a soldier to accompany Levee during her commute. Too many townsfolk work at the castle. If I promised her an escort, I would have to do the same for all of them.”

  “Yer pokin' around the haystack, Highness,” Milo laced his fingers tightly over the wooden staff in his hand. “Cut to the heart of this chatter.”

  The Sarrokian’s abrasive words snapped the final fiber of Jaycent’s patience. “I am here to offer my assistance, to which I owe neither of you, and I will not tolerate your ungrateful nature. If you care for this girl at all, you will show me the proper respect!”
He slammed his fist against the table in warning. Milo's hackles rose, but he kept a wise silence. “Now tell me,” the prince continued, “do you have the means to escort her home each night?”

  “I'm afraid I don't,” Milo muttered. “A wounded hip makes it hard t' ride, Your Highness. Even if I could, I’m afraid I’d be of lil’ help with the shape I’m in.”

  Jaycent nodded in understanding. “I can reopen Arelee’s offer to house Levee for the duration of her apprenticeship. There is room available on one of our servant's halls—”

  Milo rose decisively, wincing as the pain bit fiercely into his side. “No.”

  “No?” Jaycent shook his head. “I do not think you understand the circumstances, Sarrokian. Either you escort her home or she stays at the castle. There is no other option.”

  “I've met the lasses who live in your halls, Your Highness. They don't live by the same moral standard we do in this house. Levee is young and quite innocent in all respects. I find your offer honorable, but it’s too risky of an environment for me to accept.”

  Jaycent folded his arms. “Then what accommodations would you require, Master Kasateno? We cannot afford to lose her now that training has begun. Make a reasonable request and I will see what can be done.”

  Milo ran a hand through his curls as he wrought his mind for an answer. Both he and the prince were too strung up in the conversation to hear Levee sneak out of her room. A careful twist of the knob eased the latch open and she inched through the cracked door. Careful not to make a sound, the gypsy flicked her ears toward the adjacent room and listened.

  “How long will she have to stay?” the Sarrokian asked.

  Stay where? Levee pondered. She drew closer, her steps muted by a pair of woolen socks.

  “At least until training ends.”

  “And when does it end?” There was tension in Milo’s voice. Levee stopped short of the hall’s edge and crouched low against the wall.

  “In seven weeks,” the prince replied.

  Unable to contain her curiosity, Levee peeked around the corner into the open common room; an act that would have gone unnoticed had it not been for the decorative copper plate hanging on the wall. As Jaycent’s gaze wandered nonchalantly about the room, the reflection of a slender spy caught his attention. A grin twitched at the corners of his mouth, but he didn’t let it take hold. Instead, His Highness returned his attention to the Sarrokian brooding in front of him.

  “Arelee has a room on the west wing of the royal halls. There are three other rooms there, all of which are empty. I can see to it Levee is granted one of those,” he conceded, though not without conveying his graciousness with pristine clarity. “Realize, I am going above what I should to cater to your concerns.”

  Levee covered her mouth to stifle her excitement. Although she knew the horse mistress lived in the castle, Levee had never considered she may one day do the same. She danced in mute celebration.

  “Will she be allowed visitors?” Milo asked.

  “After work, but never overnight. All visitors are required to leave before the guards change their shifts at the midnight hour.”

  Milo's hands perched on his cane as he struggled with the decision. Levee would be safest inside the castle, there was no doubt about that. However, logic warred against his own selfish desires. “This is her apprenticeship,” Milo relented. “Let Levee choose.”

  Jaycent's eyes shifted toward the hallway. “Then we should fetch her,” he agreed, making certain his voice carried far enough for hidden ears to hear. When Milo leaned against his cane so he could stand, the prince held up a hand in reproof. “I will do it. Give your bones a rest. It hurts just to watch you.”

  Levee tiptoed to her room with hurried little steps. Just as her hand reached the door handle, a shadow darkened the hall and she knew she had been caught. The gypsy slowly raised her eyes to meet Milo’s scolding gaze, only to find the prince instead. Her jaw fell open.

  “Levee,” he called as if she were still waiting patiently in her room. “Would you please join us?”

  His Highness winked, and Levee slowly opened and shut the door in front of her as if she were just entering the hall. Jaycent waved her into the common room with two fingers, and she obediently followed. When her eyes fell on Milo, the Sarrokian rubbed the back of his neck and refused to meet her stare.

  “What's going on?” she asked.

  “To eliminate the danger of your commute, I have offered a room within the castle for you to stay in. Milo has placed the decision in your hands.”

  Levee looked to Milo, seeking his reaction.

  “It's up to you, Lev,” the Sarrokian relinquished his say in the matter. It didn't take much to see the fear and worry perched on Milo's shoulders as he stared at the lifeless ash in the fireplace.

  “What about you?” Levee felt pulled in opposing directions. Milo still had a long road to recovery, but she didn’t want to give up her apprenticeship either.

  Heaviness seized the gypsy’s heart as realization set in. She fit perfectly in the Sarrokian's arms, but not in his life. Levee was born to work with horses. Without them, she'd never be whole.

  But without Milo... could she ever feel complete? Levee found it hard to perceive.

  “I can take care of myself,” Milo assured. “This is about what you want.”

  Levee’s shoulders sagged. She knew what she had to do, but it didn’t make her decision any easier. “Give us a moment, please,” she requested.

  Jaycent nodded. “I will wait outside.”

  Levee watched the prince leave through the front door before circling the couch and collapsing into a seat beside her dearest friend. Hunched over his knees, Milo glanced at her from beneath his raven curls.

  “What’s the right thing to do?” Levee asked.

  The Sarrokian shook his head. “These are the decisions ya gotta make for yourself, Sweetling. I can’t do it for you.”

  Those words sounded so selfless, but Milo couldn't hide the heaviness behind them. Levee's heart hung heavily inside her chest, pinning her like a ball and chain.

  “It's only for a few weeks...” she tried to reason.

  “Levee, you’re apprenticin’ to be a horse mistress. If that is where Arelee's livin' then it's only a matter of time before ya end up there, too. You’re bein' taught to follow in her footsteps.”

  “But who’s going take care of you and Tay while I’m gone?” Levee’s words were barely audible.

  “It’ll be a lot quieter ‘round here, but we’ll manage,” he attempted a smile, dim as it was.

  “Will you promise to visit me?”

  Milo hooked an arm around the petite rahee and pulled her into his lap. Resting his head against hers, he planted a light kiss on her nose. “Every chance I get.”

  “Milo?”

  “Hm?”

  Levee couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes. “What does this mean for us?”

  Milo stared up at the ceiling and exhaled loudly. “I'm gonna sound like an echo,” he intertwined their fingers together as he gathered his thoughts. “What happens between us is up to you. I would give up everythin' to watch you achieve your dreams, but you and I both know I can't leave Ma by herself.

  “Go do what you need to do. Trainin’ still has seven weeks left. If by the end of that ya wanna come home, then I'll be here to welcome you with open arms. If ya choose to stay... well, Sweets, we'll face that hurdle then.”

  “Oh, Milo,” they both knew this would be the beginning of something more than a seven week adventure. Warm tears swelled in Levee’s eyes only to cascade down her cheeks and onto Milo’s dark skin.

  He nuzzled Levee affectionately. Milo knew how badly Levee needed this opportunity. The regret would walk with her forever if she didn't give it a chance.

  “Go tell that snarky prince you’ll stay,” he said, “but only if ya get a room next to the horse mistress! And make sure no males are traipsin’ through the halls at night.”

  A giggle
forced its way through Levee's lips. Milo coaxed the girl to her feet and ushered her toward the door. Levee opened it to find the prince standing beside Diego.

  “Your Highness?” she called. Jaycent turned, a smile sprouting from beneath his goatee.

  “So?” he inquired. “What did you decide?”

  “I will take the room.”

  “But only if it matches the terms we set,” Milo piped. He leaned against the doorframe wearing a glare reserved for Jaycent.

  “Fair enough. A room will be prepared for you tomorrow morning. Bring clothes and boots, Levee Tensley,” climbing onto Diego's back, the prince readied himself to leave. “The rest will be provided for you as part of your residency.”

  Milo gave a curt nod of his head and, with a sharp “hut-tut,” His Highness was on his way.

  Levee sniffed and wiped her eyes on her forearm. The prince said nothing of her teary visage, for which she was glad. When Milo followed her back inside, Levee's eyes took in the warm home with a new perspective.

  Tomorrow these walls would become a memory as she stepped into a brand new world filled with soldiers, nobility, vast castle halls, and new experiences. As wonderful as it sounded, it could not compare to the love given to her by Milo and his mother.

  They were her second family, and the sole reason she had made it this far. She had so much to be thankful for, and so much to miss. Accepting the prince's offer was the right choice, but it certainly came with a heavy goodbye.

  She met Milo's loving gaze and hoped it was worth the price.

  ANSWERS

  Nevaharday stirred the next morning, blissfully unaware of the danger creeping across its borders. Jaycent, however, didn’t share their optimism. Thrust yet again from the brutal realm of sleep, he awoke to his muscles and joints burning like he'd been beaten. The prince stripped the blanket from his head, groaning as the light through the window ignited a headache that made his stomach turn. Gagging, he tugged the sheets back over his face and begged for sleep to take him once again.