The Princess Knight

by G. A. Aiken

  Watching Gemma, though . . . she was unique too. It was hard to see that when she was covered in chainmail and a religious tunic. But seeing her naked, she was just as muscular as her sister; just as powerful. Only in a smaller package. A smaller, deadlier package.

  Quinn chuckled and Gemma glared at him over her shoulder. “What?”

  “Just wondering which of you would win in a fight. You or Keeley?”

  Instead of responding in anger, which was what Quinn actually expected, Gemma looked off thoughtfully and asked, “With or without weapons?”

  “Without.”

  “Oh. Me.”

  “So confident.”

  “It’s the first thing I was taught as a female novitiate. How to deal with bigger and stronger combatants before they can knock you out completely. If they knock you out before you have a chance to react, you’re kind of screwed.”

  “That’s why you’re so paranoid.”

  She shrugged her own massively large shoulders. “Wouldn’t you be?”

  * * *

  “Where’s the wine?”

  Busy drying off with linen, Quinn pointed at a table pushed against the wall. She’d just picked up the bottle when she heard what could only be Quinn shaking his horse body. He must have shifted so he could shake the water off his hide, something she normally wouldn’t have minded except that now she was hit with a spray of water that got her wet all over again.

  Not wanting to fight, she opened another bottle of wine and poured some into their chalices.

  “Here,” she said, handing his chalice to him before sliding onto the dining table.

  She could have borrowed one of his shirts but instead she’d wrapped a long linen sheet around her body just as Quinn wrapped his around his waist.

  Quinn dropped into the chair and put his feet up on the table, his legs resting near her ass. She moved the food between them so they could pick at it with their fingers, neither of them in the mood for sitting down properly and eating food like civilized people.

  They ate in silence for a while, but when Quinn finally did speak, Gemma was more than ready for him.

  “So—” he began, which was when she punched him in the throat, kicked him in the chest, and, as he was falling back in the chair, jumped over him so she could grab him from behind and throw him over the table.

  By the time Gemma had sauntered around the table, feeling pretty good about herself, she found Quinn turning blue. A piece of boar had stuck in his throat when she’d punched him.

  “Shit!” She ran around behind him and lifted Quinn’s shoulders up. She put her fists on his stomach and brought them in until the meat exploded across the room.

  “What the fuck was that?” he roared, proving he could breathe again.

  “I thought you wanted to see how fast I could move.”

  Rubbing his hand against his throat, Quinn barked, “I know how fast you can move! I’ve fought side by side with you, crazy female!”

  “I forgot about that.”

  “How? How do you forget about that?”

  “I blame the wine.”

  “Let’s make it clear then, shall we? I never question your battle skills. Just your sanity. And, when I’m feeling particularly saucy or incredibly bored . . . your standing within your family. That’s it. So do not do that again. At least not to me.”

  Gemma scratched her nose to hide her smile.

  “And stop smirking at me.”

  “I’m not smirking at you,” she lied.

  “Liar.”

  “Come on.” She stood, held her hand out. “Let’s have some more wine.”

  He grabbed her hand and she pulled him to his feet.

  “You’re really enjoying that wine,” he noted. “I didn’t think you were much of a wine drinker.”

  “I’m not, but this expensive stuff is really good.”

  They poured more wine into the chalices and sat on the table beside each other, legs hanging over the side.

  “How’s your throat?”

  “I’m glad I’m a centaur.” He rubbed his neck. “Some poor human would be choking on his own blood right now. And stop looking so proud about it.”

  “I didn’t!”

  “Liar!”

  * * *

  It was around the third bottle when it got ugly. Because that’s when the dancing started.

  “Now remember the steps I taught you,” Quinn told her, cracking his neck. “Head up. Chest out. And don’t forget, you must be regal, strategic, and elegant. Got it?”

  Gemma gave him a thumbs-up and Quinn nodded. “Then let us begin.”

  And begin they did.

  “First, trot. Now prance. Shoulder. Shoulder. Shoulder. Trot, trot, trot,”

  “This is awkward.”

  “Only because you don’t have four legs. If you had four legs, this would be much easier for you.”

  “I believe you.”

  “It would also be easier if you weren’t chugging directly from the wine bottle.”

  “So are you.”

  “I am, but I also have four legs.”

  Gemma stopped trotting to insist, “Four legs doesn’t make you better than me.”

  “They absolutely make me better than you. Centaurs are and always will be better than humans. Of course, we’re also better than dwarves, elves, and minotaurs.”

  “I haven’t met any minotaurs.”

  “You wouldn’t want to. There’s a mucous issue. On their snouts. It’s disgusting. They’re disgusting. Generally nice, though. Just disgusting.”

  “You’re babbling.”

  “I’m drunk.”

  “Me too, which is surprising and unfortunate.”

  “Why is it unfortunate?”

  “Before I was really drunk, I was going to suggest we go to bed and fuck.”

  Quinn pointed at his chest. “I was going to suggest we go to bed and fuck.”

  “See? But we’re both so drunk now it would just be—”

  “Tacky.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Besides, I don’t want to do it when we’re drunk.” And Quinn couldn’t believe how glad he was to hear her say that. Because he definitely didn’t want that either.

  “I see what you’ve got there,” she went on, pointing at his back end. “I want to be fully awake and alert for that thing.”

  “You do understand that I’ll be human when we finally . . . fuck? Right?”

  “Gods, I hope so. Any other way would be just . . . too strange. For me, I mean.”

  “I understand that.” He looked around. “Then what do we do now?”

  “Uh, well, first . . .” She took the bottle of wine from his hand and put both bottles on a table off to the side. “Second, we go to bed.”

  “Together? I thought we weren’t going to fuck.”

  “We can sleep in the same bed and not fuck. Can’t we?”

  “We’re only wearing sheets of linen and I’m stunning. Can you keep control of yourself?”

  “Get in the bed, centaur.”

  Laughing, Quinn crawled into the bed, dropping onto the pillow facedown. A few seconds later, Gemma stretched out next to him. A few seconds after that, she curled into him, burying her head against his side.

  Quinn had just started to think about how warm and soft she was, considering she was the strongest, toughest woman he’d ever met, when he realized that she was completely naked.

  Maybe having a little drunken sex wasn’t that big a deal unless, of course, they both fell asleep before they could—

  CHAPTER 21

  Ainsley was heading out to do some early-morning hunting. With all these people in the castle, she figured Mary could use the extra meat.

  She was nearing her big sister’s room when Caid walked out, smiling and nodding as he exited. It was the smiling that threw Ainsley off. She wouldn’t say that Caid never smiled. That wouldn’t be accurate. But nearly never.

  Caid closed the door to the bedroom he shared with Ainsley’s siste
r, stepped away from it, then grabbed Ainsley by the shoulders and shoved her against the wall. She was so shocked that she didn’t even think about grabbing her sword or dagger or simply punching him in the cock.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Keep your voice down,” he whispered desperately. He glanced at the bedroom door before leaning in closer and whispering, “One of her fucking puppies is gone.”

  Ainsley blinked. “What?”

  “You heard me!” He was still whispering but if he hadn’t been, she knew he’d be screaming. Hysterically. “We have to find it. She’s completely unhinged about this.”

  “Oh, stop it.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  Ainsley pursed her lips. “No.”

  He released her and stepped back. “See for yourself then.”

  “Fine.” Ainsley walked to her sister’s bedroom door and knocked.

  “In.”

  Ainsley walked inside and found her sister tugging on her leather boots.

  “Morning!” Ainsley greeted, smiling.

  “Morning.”

  “I’m going out hunting for Mary. Want anything specific?”

  “No,” her sister replied. “Whatever will feed the hungry travelers will do. Or anything Mary wants to roast.”

  “Great.” She paused a moment. “Everything all right?”

  Keeley frowned a bit. “One of the puppies has disappeared. Can’t find her anywhere.” She glanced at the steel bucket sitting on the bed, filled with the remaining puppies. Ainsley was always surprised that those puppies stayed in the bucket. They were at the age that a bucket wouldn’t keep them contained, but for Keeley, they stayed.

  “Need some help?”

  “No. I’ll go look for her myself. But if you see her around, grab her, would you?” Keeley asked calmly.

  “Sure. No problem.”

  “Thanks.”

  Ainsley gave a nod and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her and moving across the hall until she could lean against the wall, facing Caid.

  The pair stared at each other a moment, and then Ainsley whispered, “By the gods of all the universes, she’s going to destroy us all!”

  “I told you!”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “We need help!” Caid insisted. “I’ll round up the centaurs to look in the forest. You get Gemma to use those magickal travelers to do some spell or something. We find that fucking dog or we’re all dead. Do you understand? Dead!”

  The bedroom door opened and Keeley walked out with the steel bucket of puppies in her arms.

  “Hey, you two.”

  “Heyyyyy,” they both said, neither meaning to say it together like that.

  “I’m going to take the pups down to Mum’s room. She and Da can watch them until I find the missing one. I don’t need another one going missing while I’m out looking, yeah?”

  “Yeahhhhhh,” they again said together, cringing when she frowned a bit. But, thankfully, she didn’t question them, just headed to their parents’ room.

  When she turned her back, Ainsley and Caid began to slap at each other, only stopping when Keeley looked at them over her shoulder.

  “You two sure everything is okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Yeah.”

  Keeley shrugged and moved on and Caid shoved Ainsley toward the stairs.

  “Get moving,” he whispered desperately. “Before we’re all dead.”

  Ainsley charged down the hallway, to the stairs, past Isadora, who was feeding their youngest sibling, and down the stairs. She ran through the empty main hall and out the castle doors. It wasn’t until she was standing in the merchant square that she realized she had no idea where she was going. She knew she was looking for Gemma. But she had no idea where Gemma was. She hadn’t even checked her room or asked Isadora if she’d seen their sister.

  Gods! What was wrong with her?

  She knew. Ainsley knew what was wrong with her. Like Caid, she’d panicked. She’d just run off like a startled deer. Pathetic.

  Ainsley had turned back toward the castle to start acting like a calm, reasonable person when she heard, “Ho, there, young princess!”

  She immediately cringed, recognizing that voice instantly. It was hard not to.

  “Good day to you, my lady,” the truce vicar greeted her, bending at the waist.

  “Yeah. Right. Must go.”

  She turned to flee but he caught her arm. “Is something amiss, my lady? Anything I can help you with?”

  “Doubt it.”

  “Now, now. Don’t be so sure. I can help in all sorts of ways.”

  Really? All she’d heard from anyone yesterday was what a loud pain in the ass the man was. Of course, Keeley seemed to like him, but Keeley liked almost everyone, and Ainsley felt sure it was because there was something bearlike about the vicar. Keeley did like bears.

  “I appreciate the offer and all but—”

  “Test me, child. The worst I can say is ‘I don’t know.’ And then you can be on your way.”

  He was right. At the very least, maybe he’d seen Gemma this morning. She could be an early riser.

  “Any chance you saw a puppy?”

  “I’ve seen a lot of puppies. Your queen seems to have a warm spot for dogs of all kinds. She may want to hire someone to clean up all the excrement that comes along with the vile little beasts.”

  “I’ll make sure to mention that to her,” Ainsley said, already turning away again.

  “Unless, of course, you mean a puppy with eyes of flame.”

  Ainsley froze, and slowly the truce vicar walked around her until he could gaze down into her face.

  “If that’s the puppy you mean, then I have seen such a thing this morning.”

  Ainsley took in a breath, let it out. “Now is not the time to toy with me, Vicar. Did you take it?”

  “I would never touch such a beast, dear child. To do so would taint my soul. But the one who did was probably not concerned with such a thing.”

  “Who?”

  “The witch. Adela. She had the puppy. I was able to follow her for a bit, but then I lost sight of it and her. I must admit, I did not feel good about her having it.”

  Ainsley gritted her teeth together to control her anger. Not at the vicar. She was glad they’d met. And she knew now that he’d purposely found her.

  “Have you seen my sister? Gemma, I mean.”

  “Not since last night. She went off with that four-legged fellow. Quinn.”

  Ainsley instantly guessed where they were. “I’m going to get my sister. Could you keep looking for the witch?”

  “Absolutely, my lady.”

  He gave another bow, but Ainsley didn’t think she’d be rolling her eyes at him anymore.

  “Thank you, Vicar.”

  * * *

  “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

  Gemma had never thought about actually killing one of her siblings before except, of course, Beatrix, but to her Beatrix didn’t count. But today . . . today she was considering killing one of her actual siblings.

  “Stop yelling!”

  “I’m not yelling. But you two need to wake up now!”

  Gemma did her best to open her eyes and look at . . . gods, which one was it? It wasn’t the baby. Too big. It wasn’t one of the boys. Isad . . . no. No. Not her. Tits too big. Ainsley? It must be Ainsley yelling at her. Why was Ainsley yelling at her?

  “What’s happening?” Quinn demanded into his pillow. “Why is everyone yelling? Why won’t you just kill me instead? Please, someone kill me,” he begged, now putting the pillow over his head.

  “See what you’ve done?” Gemma asked her sister. “You’re making Quinn want to die. All because you won’t stop screaming.”

  “I am not screaming and you need to get up. Both of you.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “One of the wolf puppies is missing.”

  Finally, Gemma lifted her head
off the pillow to glare at her sister. She was so exhausted, all she could do was open one eye but she felt her glare was strong enough to get her point across even with just one eye.

  “That’s why you’re being hysterical?” she demanded. “Because of one of those fucking dogs?”

  “I’m not being hysterical and I think—”

  “I don’t care what you think. Get out! Now!”

  “No, no,” Quinn said, hauling himself up to a sitting position. He pulled the blanket over his groin to hide his massive cock from her sister’s view, and Gemma appreciated that. Her sister was too young to see such a thing. It might overwhelm her. Gemma didn’t want to scare her at such a tender age. “We should get up anyway. Keeley wanted to meet this morning to discuss next steps. We should be there to make sure Ragna doesn’t attempt to shove one of her ideas down Keeley’s throat.” He thought a moment. “We should also make sure Keeley doesn’t shove her fist down Ragna’s throat. Speaking of which . . . did anyone ever manage to get that axe out of the floor?”

  Gemma forced herself to sit up too as the centaur exited the house. She made her way over to a corner where he’d placed a chamber pot behind a lovely screen.

  “How nice,” she said. “So discreet.”

  She sat to relieve herself, giggling when Quinn leaned in through the window, his arms resting on the windowsill. The window was rather high, so it must be his horse body on the other side, which for some reason tickled Gemma to no end.

  “I had a nice time last night,” Quinn told her.

  “I did too.”

  “Are you two flirting?” Ainsley demanded, moving aside the screen and glaring at them.

  “Can we have some privacy?” Gemma barked. “We are peeing!”

  “No! You do not seem to realize the urgency of the situation!”

  “What urgency? That terrifying mother dog is probably starting to take her pups back to whichever hell she lives in.”

  “Except I met the truce vicar on my way over here and he told me he saw Adela with the pup.”

  Slowly, Gemma looked up at Quinn. They gazed at each other for a few seconds before jumping into action, ignoring the pain she knew they were both feeling in their heads.

  “I’ll get our weapons,” he said, disappearing from the window.