by Alice Wade
Resting his forehead against hers, he finally spoke softly. “I’m so sorry, Tillian.” He sighed. “I was angry and almost lost control of my magic. I feared I’d hurt you so needed to walk away. It is beyond me that you’ve had to deal with such pain at the hands of your own family, your own Father for that matter. I’m of a mind to kill all those who have brought you harm, Tillian. I know Akland and he is high on the list of guilty persons.”
Ryan leaned back and looked her in the eye. “You are not going back. I was going to seduce you to stay, but that was before I knew who organized this. I’ll not return you to a man who would willingly whore his stunningly beautiful daughter to that low life scum. Absolutely not. You deserve to be cherished.” He kissed her again then whispered, “I want to do that cherishing, Tillian. I want to remove this pain and fear I see in your eyes and I want to make you laugh. You are not going back.”
With those words she collapsed into his arms and cried with relief. Why was she not terrified of this man? She should be fearful he would bring her harm like all the other men in her life. Instead she felt extreme comfort while within his arms and his words soothed her. It was in that one moment, that she knew she could trust him completely and that was an odd feeling to experience. Hearing his heart thudding loudly, she believed he’d do exactly as he said-he’d make her happy and keep her safe. He’d not turned her away and that overwhelmed her for a moment. The fact he continued to hold her, bathing her in his loving passion, overfilled her heart.
“I’ll make a promise to you, Tillian. These men will not harm you ever again.” Since he had her so engulfed in his embrace, it was easy to pick her up and carry her back to his stallion before he mounted and lifted her to his lap in the saddle. He wasn’t going to let her go for the remainder of the ride.
Ryan heard a horse approach and turned just as Wallace trotted to his side. His Captain took in the shattered state of the woman in his arms and the fury burning in Ryan’s eyes, and cringed back in surprise. “Sir?”
“Everything’s fine now Wallace.” His look added with his eyes, I’ll fill you in later. “Get moving,” Ryan growled. Wallace nodded and moved off without another word.
Ryan settled her more securely on the saddle, and got his mount moving a slow walk when she whispered, “Ryan?” so softly that he almost missed it.
“Hmm?” Ryan leaned his head down and rested his check against hers.
“Do you think less of me?” She needed to know the truth.
“What? Why would you think that?” The question wasn’t what he was expecting.
“I’m no longer innocent, no longer pure. I am essentially a whore for my royal house.”
In his arms, he felt her weep powerful sobs when the shame of what she’d been forced to do crashed over her. Instead of answering her with words, he gave her a squeeze so she knew she wasn’t to face this alone.
“How could you even find me attractive knowing I’m tainted?” she choked out between sobs.
“Enough! You were not responsible for this; therefore, you...are...not...tainted,” he snarled.
“Yes, I am.” Tillian had never been more ashamed than at that very moment. She was useless to any successful marriage and knew in her heart that her life would never be the same. Maybe she’d find a little joy with Ryan while she stayed, but in the end, Gareth would come to claim her and there wasn’t anything Ryan could do to stop it.
“Enough,” Ryan said with finality. “I won’t say this again: I don’t find you tainted or ruined and I’ll never, under any circumstances, let you go back to Folkyn.” The stallion moved at a brisk walk at this point, so he kicked him into a canter, forcing the group to move at a faster pace. He needed to get Tillian home.
Ryan pushed them hard that day, therefore they entered the palace grounds a full hour ahead of their schedule. Since they were not expected back for another four days, the servants and grounds keepers scurried to attention and gathered in the courtyard upon hearing the gate keeper call that the King returned.
He’d finally brought Tillian home and he needed to get her comfortable before he did a single thing. She was his priority now. Only Tillian. His love.
Chapter Three
Tillian closed her eyes the moment they entered the palace grounds and didn’t open them until after Ryan lifted her from the saddle. Tillian held them closed even after her feet touched solid ground. She wasn’t ready to face this yet, and clung to the stirrup, leaning on the stallion’s girth for support. While she stood there, she concentrated on the sounds around her, trying to muster the courage to turn around. There was a bustle of activity off to her right and the sound of numerous feet scampering to do whatever task they were rushing to complete. Behind her, she identified the remaining guards arriving and dismounting as demonstrated by the jingling of spurs and the shifting of leather. There were birds, bells and the noise of a city all around, but it all sounded so foreign and she experienced a pang of homesickness that quickly disappeared the moment Ryan touched her.
“Come, Tillian, let me show you my home.” He stood close with his hands resting on her shoulders. He wore a worried frown on his face at her resistance. “I would have thought you’d be ecstatic at the possibility of taking a proper bath and putting on more appropriate clothing.” He laughed quietly and added, “Not that it’s unflattering. I find you quite appealing in my clothes, but I think you’ll enjoy what I’ll have sent to your room.”
She still didn’t turn around and shook her head. This was too much and a panic filled her mind. His people would view her as the damaged property of Folkyn, nothing more. How could they not?
“What can I do to help here, Tillian?” Ryan’s concern grew seeing her reaction. He felt powerless to do anything to make this easier, but he needed to try.
“Nothing. I just need a moment. This is so foreign and so terrifying that I just need a moment to find my courage,” she whispered.
“Why don’t you count to ten and I’ll carry you,” he threatened. From what he’d already learned of her personality, the indignity of being carried would insult her. He wasn’t disappointed when his plan worked to snap her out of it.
“You will do no such thing!” Tillian replied hotly. She’d turned around and finally opened her eyes. She felt her world spin as her gaze stared up at the impressive castle before her. It was straight out of a fairy tale her nursemaid used to describe to her as a child. Tall spires and dramatic buildings with many different wings sprawled across a large expanse of land. It sparkled in the sunlight and caught the radiance of the material used in its construction. Through the archways that she could see, the rolling green plain danced before her sight. She swallowed hard before releasing the stirrup and taking a step forward in awe.
Ryan stood patiently waiting for her to take it all in then smiled. “Welcome to Yorath, my sweet Princess.”
“This is beautiful,” she said in an exhale. “Folkyn is designed from the local slate, so everything is shades of grey. I’ve never even thought that a castle could be so bright and welcoming.” Tillian turned to face Ryan. “This is breathtaking. It looks like thousands of jewels twinkling in the sun. I am at a loss for words, and apologize for my blubbering.”
“Thank you, I like it as well. Hoping you like it enough to stay longer than a month though,” he said as he winked, his arm extended for her to take.
“Depends on the food,” she jovially replied, finally feeling more confident and started up the stairs on Ryan’s arm.
“I’ll get on that right away. First things first though, baths for both of us.”
Ryan had never felt more kingly than at that moment because he escorted Tillian up the stairs into his home. He glanced down and smiled. She looked like she belonged here, in Yorath. Even with her darker Folkyn features, she still belonged. He couldn’t help but notice the hundreds of people that had arrived and crowded the square before the palace to gawk at what he had brought with him from his trip. As he passed one group of minor Lords,
he caught a snippet of their comments, and heard, “She’s stunning.” Yes, he silently agreed, she is.
Tillian followed him through the grand entry way, up a wide carpeted stair to the second floor. At the top, a gentleman waited with white gloved hands who bowed when the couple paused. “Welcome home, my liege.”
“It’s good to be home, Kincaid. Please show Princess Tillian here to her room and ensure her every desire is met,” Ryan ordered.
The man nodded, giving her a cursory glance before he turned and led the way to a room deep within the royal family wing.
Her gaze darted quickly around the grand hallway as they walked. Delicate tables, which held vases of flowers, lined the hall. The walls held numerous pieces of art that included portraits and landscaped scenes of the rolling plains that she could see through the large glass window down at the end of the hall. This palace couldn’t be more opposite from her homeland.
At the door, Ryan paused. It was clear he would not be following her inside but resisted leaving her alone. “I just have a few things to attend to. The time will give you a chance to relax and have that bath. I’ll see you at dinner shortly, I promise.” He leaned down for one last very tender kiss. He felt her tremble and knew it had the desired effect. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her warmth and smiled into her green eyes. He spoke then, but his eyes never left her face. “Kincaid, see to her every wish. If I hear she’s disappointed in anyway, I will not be pleased.”
Tillian frowned at his severity, however the man Kincaid smiled rather than was offended.
“Of course, Sir.”
She watched him depart and then disappear around the corner before she turned and followed Kincaid into the room where a woman waited patiently.
Kincaid bowed. “I hand you over now. If you need anything, just let them know and I will see to it.” He backed out of the room and closed the door in his wake.
The maid smiled sweetly and bowed. She’d witnessed King Ryan’s words and after hearing the devotion in his voice, said, “I hope you don’t mind me being forward, but I’ve never seen him like this before.”
Tillian blushed but met this woman’s face innocently. “Who?”
The maid giggled. “King Ryan. He is not known to form attachments and it is nice to see him so charming.”
That caused Tillian to blush deeper and she found she had no response to that.
“If you’ll come this way? I have drawn a bath and we have an ample supply of the highest quality soap and oils scented with honey from our local farms.” The maid touched Tillian’s arm and directed her towards an elaborately decorated doorway that had tiny tiles in mosaic design around the frame. It sparkled like the outside of the palace and made Tillian wonder what exactly it was.
Before she could ask though, her thoughts were stolen from her lips when she entered the bathing room. Large, open and filled with massive windows that provided a majestic view of the countryside beyond the palace walls. She just stood there and forced a breath into her lungs, for she’d never seen anything like this before. As far as the eye could see, the land was a luscious green lined with endless rows of dry stone fences. Off in the distance these fence lines formed the boundaries of different farms and were used to mark their plots of land. Words would never adequately describe the sensation of seeing this after being raised in the desert her entire life. In Folkyn, anything green was cherished yet here, the color exploded everywhere.
The maid watched her laughing. “Where are you from?” It was clear this woman had never seen the surrounding land of Yorath before.
Tillian turned to her and blushed. “Folkyn. We don’t have fields like that and I’ve never seen such fences before. What are they?”
“Shale. Each farm had to clear the thick stone from the rich soil in order to farm the land. With nowhere to put all that rock, they stacked it into these fantastic barriers, marking the boundary of their land.”
“Amazing.” Tillian turned with a confused question, “Don’t they fall over?”
“Nah, there is a skill in the design. Those fences have withstood wind and rain so they are quite sturdy.” She touched Tillian’s elbow again. “Come, the bath is ready.”
“That would be nice. I’ve not had one in ages. What is your name?” Tillian’s nerves got the better of her and she nervously chattered while she followed the woman over the massive tub which sat against the glass window.
“I’m Elizabeth, Beth for short. I’m assigned to your comforts, so please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.”
Tillian did her best to smile. “I’m Tillian.”
The King had not stated who this woman was, only that she was to be lavished. Beth quickly put the pieces together and returned her smile. “This way, Princess.”
Relieved she didn’t need to explain anything more, Tillian shed Ryan’s clothing and stepped into the most magnificent bath tub she’d ever seen. It was easily large enough to hold four adults, which made her feel tiny in the massive pool of water.
“If you stay on this bench, I can help wash your hair and back,” Beth offered, patting the side of the tub indicating where Tillian should sit.
Once Tillian was comfortable, Beth got to work and efficiently bathed Tillian and did her best to care for the woman whose emotions looked ready to shatter at any moment.
The attention did wonders to calm her nerves. While Beth massaged her scalp and worked out the majority of the knots of hair, Tillian drifted in a light sleep. The warm water seeped into her bones and sent a soothing balm to her injured spirit. She liked Yorath. A lot.
She still tried to accept her fate and embrace the fact she was here, though. This was the very land ruled by a fearsome king known to be a powerful mage. She remembered she was supposed to be afraid of him because Ryan was legendary, but that was the farthest from what Tillian actually felt. Her mind remembered his touch or the way his lips caressed hers. She remembered his eyes and how they glowed with compassion when he looked at her. Ryan wasn’t someone to be feared. No, he was someone to be loved.
Was she the woman to give him that love though? Tillian took a deep breath, inhaling the honey scent and doubted her right to that claim. How was she supposed to fit into his world knowing she was no better than a bar wench? More importantly, how was she supposed to go to his bed knowing she was ruined, regardless of what he claimed?
* * * *
Ryan paced the room in a dangerous state of fury. Now that he was home, he allowed a little of his magic to seep out and tiny embers of flame dripped from his fingers as he walked around the stone tiled room. Nothing would burn here, therefore he allowed a little to seep out. It also felt good to release it since he denied his magic for too long.
Wallace entered, taking in the scene. He collected a mug of ale from the tray and sighed. This was the first chance they had to talk alone since the scene at the river and he was dying with curiosity on the reason Ryan nearly lost control. “What has you all worked up?” he asked cautiously.
“It was her own Father!” he bellowed at Wallace, who now leaned against the massive fireplace with a mug of ale in his hand.
Wallace watched his liege pace around the room like a feral animal.
Ryan wasn’t through with his tirade. “I could start a war over this, you know. I’m so enraged I have half a mind to send an army across the border to show Irfan what it means to anger me like this.” He stalked back towards Wallace shaking with rage. “How could he do that to his own daughter?” he snarled.
“He’s not an honorable man,” Wallace finally added. “We all know he’s a flea-bitten cur.”
Ryan’s mind kept drifting back to Tillian and how he left her on the doorstep of her room…still wearing his clothing. Just that memory calmed him. The effect she had on his magic was dumbfounding, but Ryan embraced it unquestionably. She completed him, as if he’d been missing her from his life all along. Like his magic needed her to function. Now that she was here, he found he could calm the volatil
e power flowing in his veins and snuff out the raging inferno that wanted to burst forth. He allowed himself a moment of fantasy to envision what she’d look like dressed to her station and draped in luxurious fabric. To see her all cleaned up was enough to have his blood pounding again and his heart racing for different reasons. Until he remembered Irfan and his dangerous fury boiled forth once more.
Ryan growled and began his feral pacing again. “I’ll see to it that he is rewarded for his actions.” He paused at a large table and leaned on it with his hands. From there he hung his head and forced back his anger. He felt invincible and he wanted Irfan to pay. “He should never have harmed her, and will feel my wrath. He’s crossed me for the last time.”
Wallace exhaled and sagged a little. This is what he feared most. “Sir, you can’t do that.”
“Watch me.” His head snapped up in anger while he glared at his Captain. “I’ll show Irfan just what I thought of his little ‘arrangement’.” The anger was boiling his ability to think rationally.
“Arrangement?” Wallace asked raising a brow.
Ryan filled him in and then slammed his fist onto the table sending glasses scattering. “He whored his own daughter out for coin,” he growled again. “Don’t get me started on her brother. How could a man allow this to happen? Sisters are to be cherished, not tarnished. I could never do something like that to Crysin.”
Wallace nodded at the mention of Ryan’s younger sister who currently lived with their Aunt and Uncle three days’ ride from here. She indeed was cherished her entire life by her brother. It was the greatest crime of all to violate that rule. However, Wallace wasn’t going to back down. “Exactly how are you going to do that?”
Pinched in pain, Ryan turned his face away and whispered profanities that were very inappropriate for a king to be saying, but he didn’t care.
Wallace groaned, rubbing the back of his neck in dread. “I knew it. You have no idea do you? You are responding to her plight and you are overreacting. Think Ryan. Think.” Wallace used his informal name to get his attention and when Ryan leveled him with a fierce look, he knew he’d succeeded.