The tension gripping her stomach released in a tingling flutter.
“Milady, please accept my gratitude for your hospitality. I shall endeavor not to overstay my welcome.” He tossed back his mantle, revealing a richly decorated, parti-colored tunic. The gold half had been embroidered in green, the green half embroidered in gold. Not since court had Alyssa seen garments so fine.
“Your welcome has yet to be determined.” Forced to crane her neck, she managed to meet his gaze. “Why are you here?”
He looked at Lailah before responding. “How did Rosalind come to be your ward? Are you a blood relation?”
Images rolled and shifted within her mind, undulating in and out of focus. A frail woman with vivid blue eyes. Craggy features contorted with sorrow. “I… She… I swore an oath to keep the Monthamns safe and have dedicated myself to fulfilling that vow.”
“To whom was this vow made? How long have you been at MonthamnCastle?” He tilted his head and the firelight danced in his gaze.
Alyssa clenched and unclenched her fists. Why should she be intimidated by his questions? He was the one with dubious intentions.
“The Black Death swept through this area five years past with devastating results. Rosalind lost her parents, two brothers and her grandmother, whom she loved above all others, all in one agonizing season. She didn’t speak for nearly a year when first we arrived.”
“This plague has left its mark upon us all, but you didn’t answer my question. To whom did you make your vow?”
Raising her chin a notch, Alyssa debated what to say. She knew the answer, but she knew she would sound mad speaking the name. How could she have made such a vow to Lady Naomi two centuries before? “We were speaking of you, sir. Explain what brings you to MonthamnCastle or depart the way you came.”
A lazy, arrogant smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “I’m afraid I answer to a higher power than you, milady. My business is with Lady Rosalind and I can’t allow you to interfere.”
“Rosalind is my ward.” Protectiveness rose within Alyssa. No one threatened a Monthamn without dealing with her! “Any business you think you have with her is entirely my affair. I’m uncomfortable with your tone and your—”
“Unfortunately, I’m not in a position to consider your comfort. If you prefer, I’ll not stay in the hall, I’ll sleep in the barracks with the guards.”
“I prefer you gather your belongings and get off this land.” She spoke with tight-lipped control.
He inclined his head. “I understand your preference, but that’s not an option.”
“Oh, I assure you it’s an option. I’ll have your horse readied and—”
“Alyssa.” Lailah preempted the remainder of her words.
“What?” She glared at her friend.
“Let Sariel go to his chamber. We need to talk.”
“Sariel isn’t going anywhere so long as he persists in this belief that he—”
“Is a messenger sent from God?”
The authority in his deep voice drove Alyssa back a step. He hadn’t spoken loudly, but the question reverberated through her entire body. She pressed her hand over her pounding heart. Wings. Angel’s wings. But this fierce man couldn’t possibly be an angel. He was too…savage.
“I’ll return in a moment,” Lailah said as she led the tall stranger away.
Alyssa watched their retreat, conflicted and confused. The fire warmed her back while cool autumn air seeped through her clothing, compounding her uncertainty. Why did she feel so muddled? Thoughts danced around her, taunting her, just out of reach.
What was wrong with her?
Shifting her feet on the woven rush mat, she turned to face the fire. Bright tapestries covered the stone walls and expensive glass enclosed the narrow windows, and still Alyssa shivered.
You must remember what you are.
Lailah’s words echoed through her mind and another violent shiver shook her slender frame. What, not who. She needed to remember what she was.
She heard a shuffling behind her and turned around. Lailah had returned, alone, her dark eyes filled with frustration and fear. Alyssa had no doubt she’d caused the frustration, but why was Lailah afraid?
“Am I…” Alyssa’s mouth was so dry she couldn’t form the words. She took a deep breath and tried again. “Am I an angel?”
Anything-but-Ordinary is Cyndi's creed and her writing reflects her dedication to the concept. She writes in a variety of genres, but seems happiest in outer space. Her books have been nominated for numerous awards, and Taken by Storm was named Best Fantasy/Science Fiction Romance of the year by Romance Reviews Today.
She lives in Colorado with her high school sweetheart turned husband of many years. With a pampered cat curled on the corner of her desk, she dreams of fascinating words and larger than life adventures -- and wouldn't have it any other way!
Website / Blog: http://www.cyndifriberg.com
Rage and Redemption Page 24