Carol's lips made a sputtering noise. “Princess... what kind of backwards mentality is that?” When she turned around, she temporarily removed her glasses so Lyneah could see the disbelief in her eyes. “Older men pursue younger women all the time. Why should there be a different set of rules for us?”
“I... suppose you have a point.”
“He's not your boyfriend or anything, is he?” Carol asked.
“Well... no.” But Lyneah was starting to wish he was, if only so she could have a legitimate reason to claim him.
“Then I don't see what the problem is. You do your thing, I'll do my thing, and let's leave it at that.” Carol put her glasses on and turned her attention back to her work. “And speaking of my thing... I really need to concentrate on this. I feel a little awkward saying this to a princess, but if you could skedaddle, I'd really appreciate it.”
Eleven
“I realized today that I whine about myself and my own woes far too often,” Kitt said. She and Miles were in the garden, strolling along the cobblestone path. A gentle breeze tousled her hair, which had gotten a bit longer since the day she was first abducted by Francis Doon. “What about you, Miles? What would you like to discuss with me?”
“Hm. My life is surprisingly bereft of woes. Perhaps I am simply too old to be bothered by much.”
“Aw... come on, Miles!” Kitt gave her friend's arm an encouraging squeeze. “There has to be some sort of burden on your mind, or some distressing thought you need to share. What about your daughter? I believe you said you hadn't seen her in years. I wonder if I could use my status as a princess to locate her for you?”
“No.” Miles was suddenly frozen in place. “No... I would not want you to do that, my lady. Even if you found my daughter, I'm afraid I would not be worthy of her. She's part of a past I would rather not remember.”
“But... Miles...” Kitt shook her head at his obstinance. “You might regret your past, but you're a different man now. She would be lucky to know you.”
“I'd rather not reopen old wounds, my lady. I hope you can understand that.” Miles' eyes looked pained, so she decided to drop the topic. “Besides, I already have a daughter.”
Even though he smiled at her, it took her a moment to understand his meaning. “Oh! You mean... me?”
“Yes. I am sorry if that's too presumptuous of me, but I have come to care for you a great deal, just as I care for the captain.” Miles' gaze wandered away from Kitt. As he stared into the distance, he curiously stroked his chin. “And... speaking of the captain, what is he doing over there?”
“What? Doon's in the garden?” Kitt followed Miles' gaze over rows of rosebushes and chrysanthemum. When she spotted Francis Doon, he was holding a bundle of flowers in one hand, and an alarmingly jagged dagger in his other hand. “Doon!” Kitt called to him. “Doon, what are you doing?”
When he spotted Kitt, he waved to her with the hand that held the dagger. “I'm cutting flowers,” he matter-of-factly stated, right before cropping a tulip and adding it to his bouquet. “Whatever you do, don't tell the queen!”
“Alright... why are you cutting flowers?” Kitt had to ask.
“Do you really need to ask that question?” When he spotted some little white flowers he wanted for his bouquet, his eyes expanded like a man possessed. He immediately closed in on them and plucked a few. “I'm doing this for you, of course.”
“For me?” When she glanced at Miles, Kitt expected him to look just as shocked as she did, but he simply looked amused. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I'm serious!” Doon exclaimed as he stuffed a blue hydrangea into his fistful of flowers. “And don't go anywhere, Kitten. I know you said you didn't want to see me, but you must realize how very very out of character this is for me.” He cut a rose, realized it was littered with thorns, and casually pitched it over his shoulder.
As Doon plucked more and more flowers, Miles said, “Should I excuse myself, my lady? I believe I should give you a moment alone with the captain.”
“No... Miles!” Kitt begged him. “Don't leave! Don't you dare leave!”
But her pleas were ineffective. Miles was already walking away, humming to himself as he strolled along the path.
“Aha!” Doon suddenly shouted so loudly, he made Kitt jump. When he spotted the perfect flowers, they were some distance away. He raced across the garden path and halted in front of them. With his dagger, he cut a large lily and added it to his unique arrangement. The orange lily added a charming burst of color to the middle of the bouquet, which was comprised mostly of white and blue flowers.
“Doon...” Kitt whimpered his name. “This is so... atypical of you. I'm not sure what to think.”
“I know what you should be thinking. You should be thinking about forgiving me.” When he was satisfied with his immense bouquet, Doon marched over to Kitt, dropped to his knees, and raised the bouquet. “For you. Obviously.”
The obviously was inappropriately caustic, but Kitt appreciated his attempt at romance. Her cheeks were warm and bright pink as she accepted the bouquet from his outstretched arm. “Doon, I... I don't know what to say.”
“Do you remember when I was getting tortured and you were worried about me?” Doon asked. “Well, you should be worried for me right now, because you're torturing me again. Because... honestly, Kitten, knowing you're upset with me is worse than any torture I've ever endured.”
In truth, the distance between them was torturing her too. She was tempted to throw her arms around him, because holding him would undoubtedly put an end to her pain. She still loved him. She loved him more than anything—but she was afraid to love him.
“I have something else for you,” Doon told her as he reached into his coat. From an inner pocket, he extracted a large bag and forced it into Kitt's hand.
“What's this?” Kitt asked. She wanted to untie the bag and check its contents, but she didn't want to drop her bouquet.
Fortunately, Doon reached up and untied it for her. When he did, several gold coins nearly spilled into Kitt's hand.
“What's this?” Kitt repeated the same question, much more sharply this time.
“It's the money I made when I handed you over to the queen three days ago. It's the reward she gave me for returning you safely. Every single penny I received is in your hand right now, Princess,” Doon said. “I wouldn't want you to actually think the money means more to me than you, so I'm handing it over. All of it.”
“I can't accept this!” Kitt gasped.
“Sure you can. I want you to have it. Besides, I'm proving a point. I don't care about the damn money. To see you smile at me again, I would sacrifice any reward.” Doon's gaze dropped to the ground in shame. “Give me a chance to make this right, Kitt. Please. You don't have to accept my apology straightaway, just give me a chance to make up for my mistakes. That's all I'm asking. Don't ask me to leave you alone.”
“Alright...” Kitt desperately wanted to touch him, to hold him, to caress his cheek. She wanted to do something to make him look less dejected. If they weren't in the garden, if they were actually alone, she might have reacted differently.
“I have an idea in my head,” Doon said. “I've been thinking of something I could do to put an end to this. An end to all of this. If I succeed, and if I return, I'll do everything I can to make you forgive me. Because that's all I ever want from you.” Doon's voice was a bit strangled as he whispered the word: “Forgiveness.”
When Doon rose to his feet and closed the distance between them, Kitt's body shivered. He cupped her cheek in his hand and leaned toward her, lightly kissing her forehead.
“Doon,” Kitt sighed his name. “Doon, I...” She wanted to tell him she still loved him, but after the way he reacted the last time she confessed her feelings, she couldn't find the courage. Her tongue was tied.
“Kitten.” When Doon whispered her nickname, she shivered again. He brought his lips to her ear and said, in the gentlest voice he could manage, “You were
always too good for me.”
Kitt thought she saw tears in his eyes before he turned away from her. Doon shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat and marched along the garden path, away from Kitt. She wanted to call him back, to beg him to stay with her, but she didn't. She looked down at the flowers in her hand and fought the urge to weep.
As soon as Doon was gone and her tears were suppressed, Kitt headed into the castle. She barely took three steps in the direction of her room before she saw something thoroughly disgusting.
King Roen had Aislainn pinned against the wall. His bulky body was crushing hers, and his hand had disappeared under her dress. Aislainn looked like she was trying to struggle, but was on the verge of giving up the fight. After all—what could she possibly do to resist the advances of an amorous king?
When Kitt saw Roen's fingers curling around Aislainn's breast, she had seen enough. “Roen!” Kitt shouted. She was so irate, she nearly bashed him over the head with her flowers—but her gift from Doon was too precious to waste on the vile king. “King Roen, please unhand my friend!”
“Nonsense.” Ignoring his daughter-in-law's request, King Roen leaned forward and suckled Aislainn's neck. “This girl belongs to me now. Now kindly go away, Lyneah.”
“She might be your servant now, but she's still my handmaiden, and she's still my friend!” Kitt charged forward, shoved Roen, and stole Aislainn from his grasping fingers. “And I need her right now, so you can just... go!” Before Roen could protest, Kitt grabbed Aislainn's hand and dragged her in the direction of her bedchamber.
“I'm so sorry, Your Highness!” Aislainn apologized. “I'm so sorry you had to see that!”
“Don't apologize. You're the last person who should apologize right now, Aislainn. I'm sorry you have to endure such a horrible thing!” When they turned the corner, Kitt checked over her shoulder to make sure Roen wasn't pursuing them. Fortunately, he was nowhere to be found.
“My heart is breaking right now,” Aislainn admitted. “Well... it's been broken for awhile, but now it's truly shattered.”
“Damn King Roen!” Kitt hissed. “I swear... one of these days, I'm going to clobber him over the head for hurting you!”
“No, it's not King Roen I'm upset about... although he does disgust me. No, there's another reason for my sadness.” Aislainn noticed her hands were trembling, so she held them behind her back. “Prince Lysander is dead.”
Twelve
Roderick grumbled as he poured himself another shot of rum—his eighth within the hour. His mind was a cesspool of muddled thought, but he preferred it that way. As long as his head was numb, he didn't think too hard on what he had lost. In the last few days, he was suspended from his job, Lyneah left him, Kitt was married—and even if she wasn't married, she clearly preferred Francis Doon. The fact of the matter was, he had nothing and no one, and for that reason, he chose to drown his sorrows at the pub each day.
Roderick was so drunk, in fact, that it was getting difficult to keep his eyes open. He vacillated in and out of consciousness every time he brought another shot to his lips. Before, when his life wasn't a complete mess, he avoided alcoholic drinks. Now he couldn't live without them.
As Roderick poured himself a ninth shot, he spotted a familiar face. Francis Doon was swaggering into the pub, looking as carefree and cocky as ever. Roderick cracked his knuckles as he studied his rival. If Doon was stupid enough to approach him, Roderick's fists would be ready.
As luck would have it, Francis Doon spotted him as soon as he entered the pub. “Ah... Roddy!” the pirate exclaimed. “You're just the man I wanted to see. Bryce told me I'd find you wallowing in self-pity over here. It seems he wasn't wrong.” Doon sank into the chair across from Roderick and studied him with a grin. Roderick always seemed so righteous and perfect. To see his perfection tainted by copious amounts of liquor was strangely amusing.
Roderick swung his fist at Doon, but his depth perception was so muddled by rum, he didn't even come close.
“Goodness, Roddy Rick! Are you trying to punch the air? What did the poor air ever do to deserve such foul treatment?”
“Shuddap!” Roderick hissed at him. “You aren't half the man I am, Francis bloody Doon. Why did she prefer you over me? Honestly... I'll never figure that out. You're a rogue and an arse.” Roderick's hand was tremulous as he brought the ninth shot to his lips.
“You might want to go easy on the alcohol, Roderick. You'll pass out if you keep at it... and I don't fancy carrying you back to your cottage, or wherever you might live.”
“Don't give me that bollocks. I ain't gonna pass out.” With a lazy flick of his wrist, Roderick tried to wave off Doon's concerns.
“And do you honestly think Kitt prefers me?” Doon asked, ignoring Roderick's drunken ramblings. “Because I honestly think she hates me. If anything, you have the advantage right now.”
“It don't matter,” Roderick slurred. “She's married to Malik.”
“Lyneah is married to Malik,” Doon corrected him. “Kitt isn't married to anyone. I intend to free her from her dreadful situation, and I'd hoped to enlist your help. You care about Kitt, do you not?”
“Ahhhh... yes,” an inebriated Roderick confessed. “But she doesn't give a damn about me! She never did!”
“Alright... so here's my plan,” Doon continued, undeterred by Roderick's self-pity. “The only way to ensure I can save Kitt is to help Lyneah take the throne. Your girlfriend seems like a reasonable sort. If we help her take the throne, couldn't we convince her to be lenient on the girl who was pretending to be her? She'd be more forgiving than Loreina, at least.”
“Pfffft,” Roderick scoffed. “I have no interest in this. And Lyneah isn't my girlfriend. She's finished with me.”
“Be that as it may, I've given this a great deal of thought. It's the only way I can unravel everything I've done to Kitt.”
“Everything you've done,” Roderick lazily repeated. “This isn't my problem, Doon. Fix your own bloody mess.”
Doon's fingers drummed against the tabletop as he studied the other man. He slipped a cigarette from his pocket and tapped it against the table before deciding not to light it. Roderick's reluctance had him tongue-tied. He had hoped it would be easy to convince him—after all, Roderick cared about Kitt and Lyneah, and Doon's plan would ultimately benefit both women. “You know...” Doon began, “I thought I'd like drunken Roderick better, but I actually miss the holier-than-thou prig that you were.”
“Those girls don't care about me. Do you understand that? Why should I put my ass on the line for either of them?” Roderick shook a finger at Doon. He wanted to look threatening, but he mostly looked sleepy. “Princess Lyneah doesn't give a damn about me. She doesn't give a damn damn damnity damn about Roderick Kelp.”
Unbeknownst to Roderick, Lyneah's handmaiden was enjoying a sandwich at a nearby table. When Aislainn heard him demean himself, her ears perked up. She hated to eavesdrop, but their conversation was too fascinating to ignore. After a few seconds of careful contemplation, she turned her chair in the direction of their table. “Excuse me,” Aislainn quietly addressed them. “I couldn't help but overhear a part of your conversation. You're talking about Princess Lyneah, yes?”
“Ahhh yes,” a slurry Roderick confirmed. “More specifically, we're talking about how Princess Lyneah has less love for me than the shit on her shoe.”
“You know, I really doubt the princess has shit on her shoes,” Doon said with a chuckle. “But if she did, I'm sure you'd outrank it, Roddy. Marginally.”
Ignoring the pirate's banter, Aislainn kept her attention on Roderick. “I don't know if you recognize me, but I'm the princess' handmaiden, and I wanted you to know you're wrong. The princess does care about you. A great deal, in fact.”
Doon and Roderick exchanged curious glances. They were both thinking the same thing: was the handmaiden referring to Kitt or Lyneah? Which girl had expressed her fond feelings for Roderick?
“Does she talk to you about a l
ot of things, handmaiden?” Roderick asked, a bit snidely. “Did she tell you about Prince Malik? Did she give you the details? Did she talk about his naked body sliding all over hers?”
“Hey!” Doon leaned across the table to punch Roderick's arm, and he wasn't gentle. Inebriated Roderick nearly toppled from his chair. “I don't want to hear about that! And you're being rude to the girl.” Doon softened his voice and asked the handmaiden, “What is your name, miss?” Even to Doon, it seemed odd that he was acting like the gentleman while Roderick was the cad.
“Aislainn,” she softly replied. “Aislainn Cumberland.”
“Well, Miss Cumberland, you need not feel obligated to answer this fool's question. The princess' wedding night is something I'd rather not hear about.”
“Actually...” As she hesitated, Aislainn nibbled on her lower lip. Both of these men clearly cared about the princess, and it was no secret that Roderick and Lyneah were lovers. Aislainn wasn't one to start spreading rumors, but what if she could spare him some pain? “Their marriage was never consummated.”
To Aislainn's surprise, it was the pirate who perked up more. “What? Come again? Never consummated? What do you mean?” Doon's eyes went wild at the thought, and he leaned across the table, waiting for Aislainn to continue.
“I mean they were never intimate,” Aislainn explained. “They said their marriage was consummated to satisfy their parents, but it never happened.” With a whimper, she added, “And please don't repeat this. I can only imagine the sort of punishment I'd face for revealing the truth.”
“Are you absolutely certain about this?” Doon asked. “There isn't a single shred of doubt in your mind?”
“No.” Aislainn shook her head as she brought her sandwich to her lips. After chewing and swallowing, she added, “I heard it from the princess' own lips.”
“Ha!” Doon suddenly pounded his fist against the table, which made a dozing Roderick sit up in his chair. “That lying little girl! I think she just wanted to make me suffer more. How very wicked of her!”
Sky Pirate (Belles & Bullets Book 3) Page 7