All's Fair in Love and Lion

by Bethany Averie

  Begrudgingly, he resumes his place at my door. I give him another smile and head down toward the corridors.

  “Miss Brighton,” the cook greets me. “Are you all right?”

  “Do you have something for a restless mind?”

  He assesses me for a moment, then leans over a teakettle. Muttering in a low voice, he waves a hand over it. He holds out his other hand and an earthenware mug appears. The kettle whistles and Cook pours amber liquid into the mug. “Chamomile tea should cure what ails you.”

  Grasping the cup, I nod my thanks and step out the side door and let the early morning air wash over me.

  “Miss,” Cook calls. “Shouldn’t you stay indoors where it’s safe?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll just get some fresh air and return in no time.”

  He grunts, but doesn’t shut the door. I step off the landing and head for a small plot of land. Green shoots poke through the ground behind tiny labels marked Rosemary, Thyme, Basil, and some other herbs that only exist in the Third Realm.

  While wondering what ‘Nymphian Essence’ means, I walk carefully through the neat rows and watch the horizon brighten.

  “Hello, Firstling,” a whisper whistles toward me.

  I lift my head. “Is that you, Lily?”

  Laughter fills the silence. “Good job, human.”

  In spite of my bravado, I drop my tea. It hits the ground with a dull thud. “Be careful, Lily. I’m a lioness now.”

  More whispers float through the silence. “I’ve heard. You’re still unworthy of him.”

  I clench my hand into a fist. “Show yourself.”

  “All in good time.” A breeze rustles my hair. “You know I could kill you where you stand.”

  “Why don’t you try? You did the other night.” Disgust rises in me. “You keep making threats. Why don’t you ‘put your money where your mouth is’?”

  “Oh, it’s more sporting this way.” More laughter. “You wait, Firstling. You’ll have your chance to face me properly. Until then, enjoy your reprieve.”

  I survey the yard. No one anywhere. Even the cook has gone inside, leaving the door wide open. “The others are waiting for you,” I shout.

  Another breeze stirs. “They mean nothing.”

  “They’re stronger than you.”

  “That’s what they think.” Her laughter echoes in the quiet herb garden. “Farewell for now, human. We’ll meet soon enough.” The voice fades.

  “Miss Brighton!”

  I turn to find Cook running out toward me. “I heard your shouts. Lord Monroe will be out shortly.”

  “I’ll meet him inside.” I race through the kitchen door.

  Guards follow me to Monroe’s room. The door whips open as I approach. Monroe stands in the doorway, his hair a mess, his black pajamas rumpled, and a fearful expression on his face. “What’s happened?”

  “I heard Lily out in the yard behind the kitchen.”

  “What? She came here? Did anyone else see her?” His gaze whirls towards the burly guards behind me.

  I put a hand on his chest. “She didn’t appear. Only her voice.”

  “Why didn’t someone get me?”

  “I didn’t alert anyone.”

  “Sasha, it’s not safe. You should’ve called for help.”

  I shake my head. “Never mind. She has something big planned. She hinted as much.”

  He shrugs into a robe. “Tell me what she said.”

  I describe the meeting as we walk down to our private living room. “She’s challenging you,” he finally says.

  I sit on the couch. Monroe crosses the room and pours himself something from a crystal decanter. He swirls the golden-brown liquid before downing it in a single swallow. “There’s one piece of good news, though.”

  “What?” I rest my chin on the back of the couch as I watch his face cloud over.

  He sets his glass down. “She wants a true fight.” He runs a hand over his face. “I thought these notes were games. I pray the training you’ve received is enough. She’ll strike without warning.” He paces the room, his gestures grow more agitated with each step. “The Vulture Brothers said she was weak when Alveron got her out of prison. She’s probably healing. He must’ve given her magical treatment.” He pauses, his brows knit together. “She’ll be quite powerful. I can’t let you go up against her.”

  “She’s not afraid of anyone.”

  “That’s her mistake. If she hurts you, any part of you, she’ll have to contend with me, Bast, the Council, and any number of others.” He grips my shoulders, his tone fierce. “I won’t let you fight her.”

  “You can’t prevent it.”

  He lowers his head and his shoulders slump. “You’re right, I can’t.” He raises his head. “You must be careful, Sasha. She’s more dangerous now than she was before.”

  I stroke his cheek. “I’ll watch my back.”

  He gives a slight smile. “How did you go from being a shy, nervous woman to having so much confidence?”

  “I haven’t a choice. Plus, I think the change had something to do with it.” I won’t be scared. I’ll face Lily and somehow end this.

  “I’d fight in your place.”

  “No good. She’ll still come for me, no matter what. One way or another, Monroe, I have to finish what she started.”

  He lets out a breath. “You’re right.” He draws me into his arms. “If imprisonment didn’t stop her, my taking your place won’t, either.” He curses under his breath. “Damn Tygresses. They’re all alike. Grasping, scheming, selfish, greedy fiends. All of them.”

  “We’ll figure something out.”

  “Do me a favor?”

  “What?”

  He growls low in his throat. “Show no mercy.”

  “You read my mind.”

  Chapter 33: Monroe

  I jerk awake, and blink several times before reality seeps in. It’s the day I’ve been waiting for since I first saw Sasha. I prop my arms under my head. Finally, she’ll be my wife.

  Elation fills me. Then an uneasy feeling floods me as I remember Lily’s threat the previous month. My smile disappears. What will I do if she and her uncle show up at the wedding? The thought is like ice in my veins. A cold resolve seeps into me as I flex my fingers. If they do, I’ll kill them both.

  A shuffling noise startles me. I sit up and glimpse Ayres’s outline in the center of the room.

  When he fully materializes, he rubs his hands briskly together. “Good morning, sir.”

  “Morning, Ayres.” I shove all thoughts of Lily out of my mind and try to ignore the nerves. “What’s the schedule?”

  “First off,” Ayres says as he opens a folder with the day’s itinerary on it, “you must get cleaned up. Breakfast will be brought in, then it’ll be time to get dressed.”

  “After the reception, Sasha and I will come back here.” I raise my eyebrow at Ayres. “Your vacation plans are set, aren’t they?” All I’d need is for the old man hovering over our shoulders. I cringe. By the Third Realm, I’ll throw him out the door myself if he doesn’t leave us in peace.

  “All the servants have orders to go on vacation or stay out of you and Miss Brighton’s way. I’m visiting my brother on the other side of the Adon Forest. That way, should you need me, I’ll be nearby.”

  “We won’t.” I feel my anticipation rise. “Excellent. Anything else?”

  “You need to get out of bed, sir.”

  “Very well.” I yawn, stretch, then slide my feet onto the floor. They sink into the thick, light-brown-colored carpet.

  “I’ll leave so you can bathe, sir.” Ayres bows and vanishes.

  Wandering into the master bathroom, I undress and step inside the shower. A twist of the knobs starts a spray of hot water out through the oversized nozzle. Under the deluge, I lather myself with soap and a single thought enters my head. Tomorrow morning Sasha could join me in the shower. A delicious sensation coils in my belly. I wouldn’t mind if she did. But would she? Will I fulfill h
er every desire? A new fear prickles inside me. What if I hurt her making her mine? Will I bring her pleasure? Will I make her happy? Is she truly content as a lioness? I give my head a shake and rinse off. No time for fears. They’re weak and that’s one thing I’m not.

  After I finish my coffee, servants pour into the room. One servant replaces the coffee mug in my hand with a toothbrush and leads me into the bathroom. When done, I set the toothbrush down and head back into the main part of the bedroom.

  Dressing takes only a few minutes. Then Ayres slips my family crest ring onto a finger on my right hand.

  Ayres walks around me. Muttering to himself, he brushes my tuxedo coat, smoothing out the wrinkles. “You’re presentable enough, sir.”

  “I should hope so. I wouldn’t want to disappoint Sasha.”

  Ayres checks his watch. “We better get to your den.”

  “Is Bast coming?”

  “Yes. However, Lady Cantrell and the children cannot make it.”

  I struggle for composure. “I’m relieved he’ll be there. He was still undecided last night at the rehearsal.”

  “It seems it was a last minute decision. I received word an hour ago.”

  I give a quick glance at the mirror, ruthlessly clamp down on my nerves, and square my shoulders. “I’m ready.”

  Ayres opens the bedroom door and I stride down the hallways, ignoring everything else until I burst through the door of my den.

  Bast rises from a chair. He’s dressed in a matching tuxedo, except his bowtie and vest are dark pink. “All set?”

  “Yes.” I clasp his hand. “Let’s get out of here.” We step into Sasha’s apartment. As we leave her home, I lock the door with the spare key she gave me. “The limo should be waiting in the garage.”

  In the elevator, Bast gives me an assessing look. “Are you nervous?”

  “Not at all.” I regard him warily. “Why?”

  His teeth flash as a customary smile wreaths his face. “No reason. You know, most grooms are. I certainly was.”

  “You’re not as impatient as I am.” We exit the elevator and approach the waiting limousine. “I’ve waited too long for this day.”

  The chauffeur gives us a nod and opens the vehicle door. “Welcome, Mr. Dubay.”

  Bast gets in first and I follow.

  He looks out the tinted window as we leave the garage. “Is Sasha already there?”

  “I believe so.” I drum my fingers against my thigh. Hopefully she’s there. Wait. Sasha wouldn’t have changed her mind, would she? My insides repulse at the thought. How can I think such things? Of course she’s there. I throw Bast a glare. “She was going to the hairdresser’s early this morning. She planned to dress at the church.”

  “Makes sense.” He watches my fingers with amusement. “Positive you’re not nervous, Monroe?”

  “Just because you were doesn’t mean I am.”

  He laughs. “Maybe not now. It wouldn’t surprise me if you are later.”

  “Why should I be? I’ve waited my whole life for Sasha.”

  “It’s a big step.”

  I fidget with my ring. “Even if I was, I wouldn’t tell you.”

  He barks a laugh. “You know I’d be merciless.”

  “You mean annoying,” I grumble. Can’t the limo go any faster?

  “I think you are nervous.” He snorts. “You’re just masking it behind your temper.”

  I glower at him. “Shut up, Bast. Or I’ll do it for you.”

  “See? I knew it!”

  “Bast, I’m warning you.”

  Completely unconcerned, Bast turns his attention to the window as we arrive at St. Luke’s. He chuckles when I hurry out of the limo and half-jog toward the side door of the church where Mrs. Chelsey, the wedding coordinator, waits. She’s a short woman with salt-and-pepper hair, a bit on the plump side. She directs us to a tiny room with light gray walls and carpeting. I take one of the two foldout chairs and strain my ears to hear what’s happening in the main part of the church.

  Mrs. Chelsey taps her lips. “You keep him company, Mr. Cantrell. Mr. Dubay appears a bit discombobulated.”

  “No problem, madam.”

  She titters. “Aren’t you just a love?” Her southern drawl thickens. “You ate, didn’t you, Mr. Dubay?”

  “I had breakfast,” I mutter.

  “Good, we don’t want any fainting grooms. I’ll be back in a bit, gentleman.” She touches my arm, the bright color on her fingernails blind me. “You take care, Mr. Dubay. Everything’s set. Oh, yes, here’s your wedding programs.” She hands each of us cream-colored booklet. Then she winks. “By the way, your bride is gorgeous!” She totters out of the room and I slump down into my chair.

  “Bast, you better not be laughing behind that program,” I grumble.

  He peeks over the top. “Absolutely not, old friend. I wouldn’t dream of making fun of you on your special day.”

  “I sense sarcasm.”

  “No way.”

  “Thanks a lot, Bast.”

  “Anytime.”

  The time crawls by and I find it impossible to remain calm. I pace up and down the length of the room, then try sitting. I tap my fingers against my leg, then get up again. Never has an hour seemed so long. I peek once more at my watch.

  “Would you relax, Monroe?” Bast asks, sprawling out in a chair. “It’s almost time.”

  “Relax! How can I? It’s nearly two, why hasn’t the music started?” I clench my fists.

  “Uh, Monroe, it has started. Listen.”

  Faint strains of a string quartet float in from the sanctuary. I can make out the cello, piano, violins, and harp. I start toward the door. “I best get out there.”

  Bast stops me. “Not yet. Didn’t you hear Mrs. Chelsey say she’ll come for us?”

  “Why hasn’t she?”

  “It’s only the first prelude. You don’t come out until the end of the last one.”

  “Oh for the love of the First Realm! Whose ill-begotten idea was it to have more than one prelude?”

  “Sasha’s.”

  Ice slides down my spine as I recall how Sasha planned the ceremony music, and asked if I agreed. “Bast, if you ever tell her that I said that I’ll—”

  “Find three different ways to kill me,” he finishes merrily. “Never fear, I won’t tell her. I do have some sense.”

  “I’m surprised you have any.”

  Smirking, he sets down his program. “I’ll let that comment pass. After all, you can’t help yourself today.”

  My temper rises. “For the last time,” I rumble dangerously. “I am not nervous!”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Hold your tongue, you worthless jackal.”

  Mrs. Chelsey bustles into the room. “Are you two ready?”

  “I am,” Bast answers in a pleasant tone. “I can’t say the same for the groom.”

  “I’m ready,” I say, shooting Bast a thunderous look.

  Mrs. Chelsey pats my arm and glances up at me, compassion in her face. “Deep breaths, Mr. Dubay. It’ll be all right.” She smiles. “I rather like your Miss Brighton. She’s a darling.”

  I press my lips together. “Could we get on with it?”

  “Follow me,” she beckons and trips down the cramped hallway.

  I trail Mrs. Chelsey to the entrance of the sanctuary with Bast following close behind. She puts a finger to her lips and points in the direction of the bottom of the stairs just below the altar. I nod and walk into the main church. Bright lights make me blink and I survey the room. White and pink roses overflow the alcoves flanking the raised area where a brown marble altar covered in white cloth stands in the middle of the platform. Behind it a crucifix ten times as big as a normal one hangs. Studying the figure’s pained expression, I once again marvel at the similarities between the Third and First Realm beliefs.

  The quartet beings Johann Sebastian Bach’s “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” and I turn back around. The priest stands near me wearing white and gol
d robes. He gives me a smile.

  Bast and Melody make their way between the two rows of pews toward us. My gaze flits over the rest of the pews. Several of the rows are filled with colorfully dressed people. I recognize Council members and Sasha’s coworkers. Her few relatives declined to come. Despite the matter-of-fact way Sasha handled her aunt’s refusal to attend the wedding, I know it hurt her. Sasha hadn’t heard from her aunt since the previous year. It was as if Danielle had finally decided to reject Sasha completely. I can only pray time will heal the wounds her aunt inflicted. The woman is a bitch. She should count herself blessed Sasha is her niece. Exhaling, I force myself to calm down. Think of something else.

  I peruse the faces of the other guests, and a sense of satisfaction fills me. Carl isn’t here. Mentally I slap myself. No reason to be jealous anymore. I now know Carl didn’t stand a chance. I feel a little better.

  When Bast and Melody reach where I stand, Bast stops beside me while Melody settles herself across from us. The music continues for a few moments, then pauses. An organ cuts in with Henry Purcell Clarke’s “Trumpet Voluntary”.

  I peer expectantly down the aisle. My heart picks up speed and butterflies flutter around in my stomach.

  Then I see her. I hear my sharp intake of breath when Sasha and Ted walk slowly towards me. Wow.

  Despite its simplicity, the gown gives her an elegant air. The top of her dress dips low enough to show off her beautiful neck. A piece of embroidered fabric sweeps back behind her, emphasizing her trim waist. The veil can’t hide her sparkling blue eyes, and the sweet curve of her lips. Around Sasha’s neck a diamond and gold pendant of the Dubay lion rests against her chest. Shimmering diamonds also hang from her ears. Her brightness dispels every dark corner of my life. The earlier impatience and nerves dissipate. What did I do to deserve this woman? I straighten to my full height as Ted slips Sasha hand from his arm.

  Her right hand fits perfectly in the crook of my arm and Ted enters the first pew. Sasha and I come to a halt in front of the priest. The music ends on an airy note and everyone goes silent. The priest opens his prayer book to begin the ceremony.