The Lion's Castle (The Lion Princes Book 1)

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The Lion's Castle (The Lion Princes Book 1) Page 6

by Chase, Leslie


  "Where am I, exactly?" She gestured around helplessly, and blushed. The servant seemed to understand, though.

  "You are in Lionhead Castle, Madam, as a guest of Prince Roman. I understand you had a fright at the airport, and he brought you here to recover."

  It wasn't a surprise. She told herself that insistently, cursing at the panic that set in. Of course she was at the royal castle, the home of the family that ruled the country. Where else would Roman have taken her but his family fortress?

  And where else could she have imagined this was? The view, the paintings, they should have given it away. But somehow she'd avoided thinking about that until she'd blurted out the question to the servant. Biting down on her panic, she let the man lead her through halls, paying no attention until he opened a door with a flourish to usher her out onto a huge balcony overlooking the mountains.

  There, sitting at a table laden with food, Roman waited for her. The afternoon sun caught his hair and it shone like gold in the light, his suit was immaculate, and the way his face lit up when he saw her made her heart race again. Not from fear this time, though there was an edge to it, but the intensity of his desire for her was strong enough to drive it from her mind. To be looked at that way by such a gorgeous man was unnerving in the best possible way.

  Anna might have thought he was mocking her when he stood and pulled out a chair for her, but his sincerity carried through. He was a gentleman — that she couldn't deny. Letting herself be guided to the seat, she couldn't help smiling up at him.

  "This is..." words failed her as she gestured out at the view, and he laughed happily. It really was an amazing sight, the tall mountains rising into the sky, the valleys dropping away between them. Far below, a river snaked through the pass beneath the castle.

  "It's my favorite spot in the castle," Roman told her, returning to his own chair and lifting a cup of coffee to his lips. He looked out over the pass as he sipped, and Anna wondered what it felt like, looking down on a country and knowing it all belonged to him.

  "The view is amazing," she said, nervously reaching for some bread. It felt as though someone might snatch this all away from her at any moment, and she wanted to taste it first. "I guess this is all yours now?"

  "Mine?" Roman's face clouded as he shook his head. "I hope not. The castle goes to the King, and running a country wouldn't be my kind of work. I'd rather have something I can sink my teeth into properly, a job where I can really get something done. No, my brothers can fight over this, I've got better things to do."

  Anna smiled at that, her heart lifting a little. His passion for achieving something was infectious, and she couldn't help wondering if it wouldn't make him a better king than his ancestors had been. Certainly, he seemed to want to help people.

  "Then why are you here?" she asked, spreading marmalade on the bread. Waiting for him to answer, she took a bite and her eyes widened. The taste was amazing — clearly the royals got the best of everything. Tangy fruit on fresh-baked bread, yum!

  "Are you complaining? If I hadn't come home, I wouldn't have met you, so the trip's already worthwhile," Roman said, grinning at her. "Anyway, I had to come. It's tradition, old as time, that the heirs of the royal house bring their mates home and the land chooses its new king. I'm one of the eldest litter, so now it's my turn to go through that, and I'm not going to let the family down."

  Anna smiled, trying to hide the chill falling over her. She ought to be happy. There she was, having breakfast with the most handsome, charming, sexy man she could imagine. In his family castle, for heavens' sake. But as much as she wanted to ignore it, as much as she tried to live in the present, she couldn't keep from thinking that this was the man she'd helped her father try to kill.

  It can't be right, she thought. He doesn't even want the throne, let alone to oppress anyone! Maybe, if I talk to my father, it'll all be okay? We can just leave him alone.

  It wouldn't be that simple, of course. She hadn't been told all of the plans, but if Roman was a target then so were his brothers Gabriel and Mattias. Even if the rebellion stopped trying to kill him, she couldn't expect Roman to sit by while they targeted his family. And what if they were just as innocent as he was?

  Shut up and let me enjoy this, she told herself. Staring off the balcony at the mountains. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the moment and what Roman was saying. Let the future take care of itself

  * * *

  Roman saw the determination on his mate's face and wondered what was distracting her so much that she hadn't heard his question. The view was wonderful, of course, but he didn't think it was that good. Touching her lightly on the arm, he brought her attention back to him with a start.

  "I was surprised you didn't have more questions about the attack last night," he repeated himself. Anna's face went from an embarrassed flush to a frightened white almost instantly, and he cursed. He was a shifter and a prince, born and trained for such things, but he should know better than to bring it up so lightly with her. She was obviously still upset about the events in the airport parking lot, and who could blame her?

  "I'm sorry," he said, raising a hand to hold back her stuttered answer. "I shouldn't speak of that until you're ready. I just wanted to tell you that you're safe here with me, and that I won't let anyone harm you. No matter what."

  Anna blinked at that, and again he felt the turmoil in her mind as emotions swirled there. He tried to project calm back across the bond they shared, but it seemed futile. Either the bond wasn't strong enough, or he didn't know how. He sighed and reached out across the breakfast table to take her hand, feeling the little thrill of contact between them as his skin touched hers.

  "Don't worry, you're safe. I promise." That only seemed to make her internal conflict worse. He frowned, squeezing her hand, and stood.

  "I know that you must have questions," he said. "And I know that they might seem crazy to you. Let me show you something, Anna. It will perhaps make things easier."

  She looked up at him for a second, motionless, and then stood. Her little nod was anything but resolute, but at least it was something. Together they stepped back inside the castle, Roman leading the way down its ancient halls and stairways.

  "Why haven't you asked me your questions?" he asked as they walked, their footsteps echoing on the stone floors. Glancing aside he saw Anna staring around, looking at the portraits hanging on the wall, the stone lions carved into the walls. Looking at anything but him, or so it seemed.

  "It's been a lot to take in," she said. Her voice was quiet and uncertain, and he squeezed her hand to reassure her.

  "Most people wouldn't take it so well," he told her. "The fight must have been very frightening for you."

  Roman watched her reaction, seeing her shiver and force herself to smile. Something was wrong, he could feel it, but he couldn't work out what it was. Certainly, though, few people would cope so well with seeing him transform. He wondered how much she remembered of that, and whether she assumed it had been a hallucination or a nightmare.

  "I—" she started to answer and then broke off. Silence fell over them as they walked through the empty halls.

  Eventually, she tried again. "I know what you are, Roman. I mean, I knew as soon as I knew who you were. The tales of the lion shifter kings are legend. Maybe most people don't believe them these days, but my family does."

  Her voice was small, her emotions closed off from him, and he could feel the strain on her as she chose her words carefully. Roman frowned, unable to see what was so difficult — for him, at least, this was good news. One less thing he had to explain. Outside of Leotania, few people knew about shifters at all. Even here it was more folklore than fact to most people. Finding that Anna already believed should have made things simpler.

  From her reaction, though, it just seemed to add more issues he didn't understand.

  They were nearly at their destination. A huge door of black wood bound in iron barred the corridor, and he took a deep breath.

&n
bsp; "I'm glad I don't have to talk you through all that, at least," he said. Letting go of her hand, he pushed the door open. Even for him it was an effort to move the heavy door.

  Inside was a large room, filled with shadows, centered on a hole which fell away into darkness. Far, far below he could hear water rushing past. Around the wall, carved lion heads looked down, so life-like they looked as though they were judging the two of them.

  The weight of history was heavy on them as they walked forwards, Roman striding purposefully and Anna following more nervously behind him. Roman stopped at the edge of the drop Roman, looking over it into the darkness beneath them. He felt as though he was being watched, weighed and measured by the stone lions and by the room itself.

  Don't let it get to you, he told himself firmly. He knew he had nothing to fear, but the place still gave him the creeps and had ever since he'd first visited it as a child.

  "What is this?" Anna asked in a whisper.

  "The Well of Fate," Roman explained. He resisted an urge to speak in hushed tones as he continued. "It's where the land picks a new ruler, once the old one has passed away."

  He wasn't sure how much she'd believe that, but she didn't seem to doubt it for a moment. The Well had that effect on people, he knew. His own doubts were silenced in its presence.

  "Is that why you've brought me here? To see it choose you?"

  Roman shook his head. "It's not time for the choice yet," he told her. "There's something else I have to do first. I brought you here because I want to explain that to you."

  He turned and took her other hand, looking her in the eyes.

  "The land will never choose an unmated ruler," he said, looking into her eyes. "I came home expecting it to reject me for that simple reason. But then, on my way back, I met you."

  The spark of realization flared in Anna's eyes and she stepped backward, away from him and the well.

  "You can't be serious," she whispered, face going white as a sheet. "Are you asking me to be your queen?"

  Not exactly the reaction I'd have liked, Roman admitted to himself. But then this was all a shock to her, and not everyone could react well under pressure.

  "Fate chose us to be together," he said aloud. "I know that you feel that too, that you can't doubt it any more than I can. If we're not meant to rule, then the country won't choose us, but I need you by my side to ask. You belong there," he said.

  "If it helps, forget about the country. That isn't what's important here. It's about you and me. I want you, Anna Hall. I want you by my side, and I know you want to be there. Fate has matched us."

  She shook her head. It didn't look like a refusal; instead, she looked overwhelmed by what he'd said. There were so many different emotions at war on her face, and she held up her hands as if to hold off the feelings that were all around her.

  "Roman, you can't — you can't just say that," she said. "We've only just met, and I— I..."

  She trailed off, whatever she'd been about to say buried under her feelings. Roman made to step closer, stopping as she shrank back, giving her space.

  "You can't just expect me to drop my life for you Roman, to run off and be your queen or your whatever else." The vehemence in her words surprised him. "I need time to think about this, time to talk to m-my family."

  Tripping over the words, Anna shrank back into the wall. Carefully, Roman stepped closer, offering her his arm but not crowding her.

  "Of course, Anna," he said. Obligations to her family were an issue he could understand and sympathize with, after all. "I'm not trying to pressure you into anything, just tell you what I feel. Take all the time you need: I know you'll make the right choice. Meanwhile, I will take you out for dinner this evening, and we can talk."

  There wasn't any rush. She was Roman's fated mate, and that was that — he could afford a little time to help her overcome her doubts. Though it was hard for him to push down the urge to take her and mate her as soon as possible. His lion didn't understand the delay. Patience, he told his animal soul, and it grumbled into silence.

  "Let me call my family first?" Anna asked, sounding unsure of herself. The conflict was still there in her eyes, her desire for him at war with something else. And whatever it was, she didn't seem too keen on talking about it with her family. "They'll be worried after I didn't arrive last night."

  "Ah, of course!" Roman cursed himself for not thinking of that sooner. He'd been too focused on keeping her safe and his own problems to think things through from her position. "Let me take you to a phone. I'm afraid that you won't find any cell phone reception in the castle. One of the curses of tradition."

  Anna nodded, giving him a brittle smile. Roman suppressed a frown; most women would be glad of what he'd offered, or flattered at least. Anna looked as though she had seen a ghost. Why is my mate so afraid? Whatever the reason, Roman promised himself he'd prove to her that he could keep her safe.

  9

  Anna half-hoped no one would answer the phone. She sat at a desk in someone's office, opulently appointed but looking half a century out of date. There was no computer, and the telephone was almost an antique itself. Though not as much as the desk was, carved intricately from some dark and rich wood, brass fittings gleaming. The whole room looked as though it belonged in a period drama, not her life.

  Across from the desk, a portrait glowered down at her. The man in it looked old, grumpy, but full of energy still, and his narrowed eyes looked into her as though judging her soul. The old king, Roman's grandfather, Anna presumed. The black mourning edging hung around the portrait was a clue, but there was a family resemblance as well.

  She wasn't sure what the old man would think of her. Probably nothing good — she was, after all, a conspirator plotting against his son. But it's not like that! I've got to convince the others that it's not, she told herself for what felt like the hundredth time, her grip tightening on the phone.

  Just as she was about to give up on the call, it was answered. "Hello?"

  Anna recognized her sister's cautious voice and sighed with relief.

  "Victoria, it's me, Anna," she said. There was a brief pause on the other end before her sister replied.

  "Oh my God, Anna, we were so worried! Are you all right? Where are you?" Her normal reserve was washed away by a concern that Anna found touching.

  "I'm—" Anna paused, unsure what to say. Looking up at the picture of the late king, it seemed impossible to her, and goodness knew how her family would react. But knowing that she couldn't put it off forever, she steeled herself to tell the truth.

  "I'm in Lionhead Castle. With… with him," she said, not knowing how to refer to Roman. By his name, by his title? As her target?

  Victoria clearly didn't know what to say in response, and the line was silent for a long time. When she spoke again, it was in a whisper. "Are you alright, Anna? Has he hurt you?"

  "No! No, he's been a-a perfect gentleman," Anna said hurriedly, trying to keep the hint of disappointment out of her voice. Down by the Well of Fate, she'd thought he was going to kiss her again, and the anticipation of that moment still lingered. One more thing to confuse her, and one more she absolutely could not talk to her sister about! "I fainted after the attack, and he took me here afterward."

  "We didn't know what happened to you," Victoria said, her voice recovering some of its normal icy poise. "Father has been trying to find out, but the investigation of the attack is being kept very quiet. We had no way to know if you'd been caught up in it, captured or worse. This is exactly why you weren't meant to make contact with him at all."

  Anna shook her head, half hurt and half amused that Victoria was blaming her so quickly. It was typical; anything that went wrong was automatically Anna's fault.

  "It wasn't as though I could do anything about it," she explained. "He literally ran into me at the airport. How could I get away from him and still keep an eye on him after that? But listen, there's something we need to talk about—"

  Before she could continue, the
re was a commotion on the other end of the line. Another voice, muffled, demanding, and then clearer as the speaker grabbed the phone from Victoria.

  "Anna! What is this, where are you?" Her father's voice, angry and accusatory — not at all the sound of a man who was glad to hear his daughter's voice. Anna pursed her lips, swallowing an exasperated sigh before she told him what she'd already explained to her sister.

  "Excellent," he said, and she shivered at the glee in his voice. "That is better news than I had dared hope for. If he is interested in you, then you must use that for the Cause, Anna. Bring him back into town, yes, let him take you somewhere for a meal. In the city you will be able to call me on your cell, let us know where he will be and when. Then we shall strike! And this time, there will be no mistakes."

  Anna winced, not liking the sadistic joy with which her father talked about an assassination. She opened her mouth to object, but he gave her no chance.

  "I know this is more than you had agreed to, and I too would rather your sister were taking this role, she has the commitment to the Cause needed, but I also know that you will not let me down when I need you. And I do need you, Anna, the support of our backers is riding on this. As is the future of our country. I know you won't let me down." This time went unspoken at the end of the sentence, but Anna felt its presence anyway.

  "Now go and prepare. We mustn't chance you being overheard speaking to us, and I must speak with our sponsor to make arrangements."

  Before she could say anything, he hung up, leaving her staring at the dead phone. Trembling, not knowing what else to do, she placed the handset back in its cradle and looked at it.

  Nothing had changed, and she didn't know why she'd thought it might. Maybe if he'd let me talk, she thought, but when had her father ever done that? Her opinion didn't matter to him, and now he expected her to go ahead and help him murder Roman. A man who had only been kind to her, who had been willing to put himself between her and harm.

 

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