The Lady's Choice

by Bernadette Rowley

  When they reached her room, Ramón opened the door for her but remained in the hall.

  ‘I will wait here, lady,’ he said, closing the door on her after she had stepped through.

  Benae stared at the closed door, unable to believe he had all but shut the door in her face. He could not have expressed more eloquently his lack of desire for her company. But who could blame him? She was here to win the hand of Ramón’s master, not to have a fling with the delectable squire. Oh, but imagine those strong hands, those sensuous lips on her body. A shiver ran over her at the thought.

  ‘Lady Benae,’ her maid said, as she came though from her quarters, which adjoined Benae’s sleeping room. ‘Why are you returned so early? Oh . . .’ Merel came forward to examine the damage to the back of Benae’s dress. ‘Your favourite gown! But it is not beyond repair. I will help you into a new one and mend this right away. How would the black satin with the golden lace suit? You can still wear the emerald choker and tiara.’

  ‘That will do well, Merel.’ Benae could have kissed the woman for not asking how the damage had been done to her gown. Her young maid would hold her own in any of the royal courts and, besides that, was a source of support and advice to Benae.

  In moments, Benae was attired in the new gown, golden lace over black satin, which left her shoulders bare and displayed a tempting amount of cleavage. Let us see how that chit Avalin deals with this dress. Not to mention the squire. Benae shook her head. Really. She should be beyond such silly girlish thoughts. She was twenty-six, a woman of the world and head of her own estate, though the reason she was leader there still caused her endless sadness.

  She pulled her thoughts from the past and squared her shoulders. ‘Thank you, Merel. That will be all for tonight.’ Benae opened the door and stepped into the hall.

  Ramon straightened from where he had been leaning against the balustrade. He struggled to control the lust that swept through his loins at the sight of the breathtaking woman who had just stepped from her room. Flickering candles in the wall sconces lent her an air of mystery. He clamped the feelings back where they belonged – shut away. He had no right looking at her this way.

  She paused and he felt her gaze upon him, though it was too dark to see her eyes. He would need to be made of stone not to be affected by her – so petite and feminine, yet strong enough to handle the million-and-one details an estate owner must tackle. He knew only too well what it took to look after property and people.

  ‘Let us hasten to the dining room, lady,’ Ramón said. ‘They will be waiting for us.’

  She touched his hand. ‘What has you so irritable, squire?’

  ‘You misinterpret my mood, lady.’

  ‘I do not.’

  Ramon drew a deep breath. Very well, she had asked the question. ‘I do not understand why you would put yourself in the position of competing with others for the hand of the prince.’ There, it was out, done.

  ‘Oh, really?’ Now Lady Benae looked cross. Did she never wonder how her actions would look to others?

  ‘Yes, my lady. You have your own estate and I can see you are intelligent. Why would you stoop . . .’ Ramón stopped as he realised he might have gone too far.

  ‘I do not believe my motivations should be a matter for public speculation.’

  ‘No, lady; forgive me.’

  They continued to the dining hall in silence. The sooner he was out of Brightcastle and on the road to finding Alecia, the better.

  The impact Benae made on entering the dining room was intensely satisfying. Avalin’s jaw dropped and the prince immediately leapt up, stalked across to Benae and drew her to the seat on his right at the table. It made up for how annoyed she was by Ramón’s judgement of her.

  Benae hoped she might be free of Ramón’s company at dinner. He was far too much of a distraction. However, she noted that there were six places set at the candlelit table. The squire sat between Avalin and Lella on the other side of the table. If Ramón had been beside her, she might have been able to keep her eyes from him. He is not for you. Benae steeled herself to ignore him while she was with Jiseve.

  Once Benae and the squire were seated, Prince Zialni rose. Glass of ruby wine in hand, he gazed at each of his guests in turn. Oh, how he loved the spotlight! Perhaps there was not so much sadness in him after all. Perhaps he was pragmatically seeking to fill his bed with a warm woman, but if that was the case, why had he not advertised for a wife sooner? His wife had been dead four years and it was said that he had never been seen with another woman since Princess Iona breathed her last. Until now.

  ‘With the arrival of Lady Benae, our party is complete,’ the prince said. ‘I will not hide my delight at having you all here under my roof but there is a serious reason underlying your visits.’

  Benae cast a surreptitious glance at the squire to find his eyes downcast and jaw tense. From where did his disapproval stem? He clearly believed this contest for the prince’s hand to be beneath her, as well as the princesses, but why? For some reason, his disapproval unsettled her. She shook the thought away and returned her attention to the prince.

  ‘I find myself without an heir when I had thought my plans set.’ Now it was Jiseve Zialni’s jaw that clenched. ‘You all know how important that heir will be to the kingdom. My brother cannot rule forever and he has no children. I am next in line for the throne but only a son, not a daughter, can be heir. I had thought perhaps a grandson would solve the problem, but it is not to be. And so I come to the reason for your collective visit. From amongst you I will choose my bride and she will bear me a son, or sons, to ensure the kingdom remains in Zialni hands. My nephew Piotr—’ The prince bit his lower lip as though he had nearly said too much. Benae guessed there was no love lost between the two.

  ‘My decision will be made in all haste for I have already let too many years slip by since the death of my beloved Iona. So raise your glasses.’ Everyone at the table followed his words with action. ‘To your very good health, my beautiful guests.’

  As Benae toasted the others, her gaze fell upon Avalin. If looks could kill, Benae would be lying dead at the ice princess’s feet. Oh yes, Avalin had identified her main competition. Before Benae’s arrival, the wintry princess must have thought her position secure, though why she would discount the younger women, Benae could not say. But then she had not been present to witness the interactions between the prince and his guests.

  The kitchen staff arrived to serve the first course, which was pheasant, served in a broth with fresh white bread.

  ‘Please give praise, Squire Ramón,’ Jiseve said.

  Ramon stood and Benae closed her eyes to concentrate on his velvety voice as he spoke the blessing. His deep love of the Goddess was expressed in the heartfelt way he said the prayer. These seemed not just empty platitudes for Ramón, but a core part of his being. It struck a chord within Benae, who had been raised to worship all that was the Goddess.

  Their eyes met as Ramón resumed his seat and Benae smiled. He did not return her smile but turned and engaged Lella in conversation. Nothing could have better reminded her of her earlier resolve. Jiseve was the reason she was here, not Ramón, as delectable as the blond squire was, with his azure gaze she could so easily lose herself in. She turned to the equally compelling sapphire eyes of the prince.

  Jiseve reached for her hand and squeezed it. ‘Please go ahead and begin, lady. The pheasant was freshly killed this morning.’

  He watched as she sliced a piece from the bird in front of her and placed it in her mouth. The meat had a strong, gamey taste but was tender and delicious. She licked the salty broth from her lips. The prince copied her gesture and his throat moved in a sudden spasm, his pupils dilated, his breathing quickened. Oh, he was enjoying this little game! She raised her glass.

  ‘Your good health, Highness,’ Benae said, tapping her glass against his, the musical note of the crystal ringing around the table. This was almost too easy.

  Avalin went on the attack.

>   ‘Lady Branasar, how many people live on your little estate?’

  ‘Five hundred, give or take,’ Benae said. ‘But surely you would know that, as your father is my king.’

  Avalin’s pale cheeks flushed. ‘Oh . . . you are of the Tylevian Branasars. I should have realised.’ Avalin flushed a deeper shade of red as she fell from one blunder into another.

  ‘And what of Tylevia, Princess Avalin?’ Benae said, pinning Avalin with her interrogator’s stare. ‘What are your responsibilities there?’

  Avalin turned her gaze on the prince, who appeared to be enjoying the rivalry between the ladies on either side of him. ‘I have a myriad of responsibilities but suffice to say I am well aware of the duties of the head of a household,’ she said, looking now to Benae, ‘Lady Benae.’

  Benae narrowed her eyes at Avalin. She was not sure where this was heading but she had a feeling a change of topic was a good idea. Just then, Princess Lella piped up.

  ‘I’ve been schooled by my tutors from a young age to run a kingdom,’ Lella said, ‘even though I have four brothers who will rule before I ever do. We still have ruling queens in Brevisten, you see. My mother and father are joint rulers.’

  Prince Zialni seemed not best pleased to be reminded of the differences between kingdoms. ‘I don’t believe any wife of mine will be called upon to undertake the duties of a ruler. Iona was content to run our household and look after our daughter and I. That is all I would ask.’

  Avalin seemed content, while Lella’s pale blue eyes looked troubled. Marey sat across from the squire and seemed lost in contemplation of him. As for Benae, she resolutely kept her gaze on the prince – well, mostly.

  ‘Prince Zialni—’ Benae said.

  ‘Please, call me Jiseve.’

  ‘Jiseve, surely there are other traits, other skills you would seek in a wife?’

  Avalin sniggered but Benae ignored her.

  ‘My wife must have grace and beauty, she must be young enough to bear children and she must have good taste and discretion.’

  Well, that left Marey out of the race. The young princess was still gazing at the squire. For all Benae knew, the girl was probably playing footsies under the table with Ramón. She tried to ignore the spike of jealousy that thought provoked.

  ‘But, Jiseve, surely you wish your wife to have a mind of her own, to be able to converse and to be a stimulating companion,’ Benae said.

  Avalin sniggered again. ‘I’m sure Jiseve has found me to be a most “stimulating” companion over the past two weeks.’

  Jiseve smiled indulgently at Avalin.

  Benae’s eyebrows climbed her forehead. Of all the ways Benae could have described Avalin, she never would have imagined the princess to be so saucy. Perhaps she needed to reappraise the title of ‘ice princess’. Had Avalin already slept with Jiseve? What is the true state of affairs here?

  Jiseve turned to Benae. His eyes burned into hers, creating a private moment between them. Benae’s stomach tightened and desire trickled through her lower abdomen. Oh my, he is seducing me in front of Avalin!

  ‘I’m sure you have all the attributes I could possibly want in a companion,’ he murmured. He caught her hand and kissed her fingers.

  A chair scraped across the floor and they turned to find Ramón standing at his place. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness, ladies, I’ll take my leave.’

  ‘You will stay,’ Prince Zialni said. ‘You must help me attend to the needs of these fine ladies.’

  Ramón frowned.

  ‘Do you have a problem with that, squire?’ Jiseve’s voice held an undercurrent of menace.

  The implied threat brought the previous conversation about Jiseve’s harsh treatment of his daughter and the common folk back to Benae. Perhaps there really was a dark underside to life in this castle. Or maybe she should concentrate on her plan and stop looking for problems. After all, the situation on Benae’s estate was desperate and the prince could offer a solution that would benefit both of them.

  Ramón shook his head. ‘No, Your Highness.’ He resumed his seat as the main meal was delivered.

  Benae sent a smouldering look to her prince. She could almost taste victory. Soon she would be mistress of Brightcastle and her people could look forward to a future free of the dark elven menace and of starvation.

  Ramón watched as the prince led Benae from the table and onto the small wooden dance floor. Would this evening never end? He had other things in mind for tonight, such as meeting up with one of his mercenary spies, but what did the whim of Ramón Zorba matter beside the desires of the prince? And ‘desires’ was the right word. As the two lute players plucked out a sedate court tune, the prince steered Benae around the small dance floor, her body held close to his, his lips moving as though he whispered endearments. Even Ramón could see that his employer was different with Benae than he was with the rest of the candidates. He was smitten, and no wonder. She was enchanting, with her flashing green eyes, full sensuous lips and perfect form. Any man would kill just to have her in his arms. He almost choked on his wine. Where had that thought come from?

  He scraped his chair back and asked Marey to dance. The youngest princess giggled her response and he swept her onto the dance floor beside Benae and the prince. Benae had her eyes closed as she was guided around the floor. Perhaps the attraction was mutual and the lady had fallen under Zialni’s spell. He was handsome for an older man and he had wealth and power. These seemed important to Benae. Anger welled up within him and he crushed Marey to his body without knowing what he did. She squeaked and he gazed down upon her. Marey was young, perhaps eighteen. She could not have any experience with men and here she was being offered up to Prince Zialni as a brood mare.

  He shook his head. ‘What are you doing here, princess?’

  Her wide, brown eyes gazed back at him. ‘What do you mean, squire? You know the purpose of my visit.’

  ‘You should be safe in your palace, entertaining the young men of your court, not here vying for the hand of a man old enough to be your father.’

  Marey smiled a ‘come hither’ smile that shocked Ramón to his core. ‘Are you jealous that the “old” prince receives all the attention, squire? Perhaps you and I could meet later and you could attend to my “needs”. The prince has asked you to do so. Did you not take note?’

  Ramón felt his eyes bulge. Not so innocent then, or she was playing a damned convincing game. He stiffened and pushed her back from his body so that they completed the dance at arm’s length. They returned to their seats. Prince Zialni began dancing with Princess Lella.

  Ramon’s eyes met Benae’s across the table. ‘Please join me in a dance, lady.’ Before Marey could raise her pretty blonde brows, Ramón was beside Benae and pulling her into his arms for a lively court dance that soon became a waltz. She moved well and she was so tiny, barely reaching his shoulder, but her body was formed of hard muscle from her horseriding. It was a heady mix of soft feminine curves and toned flesh, but he should not be thinking like this. He took a deep breath.

  ‘What is amiss, Ramón? You are quite pale.’ Her lovely eyes shone up at him and he was seized by a strong urge to kiss her full lips. He fought it down.

  ‘Princess Marey propositioned me,’ he said.

  Benae laughed. ‘The Issians are a precocious people. Their girls are first bedded at fifteen so by Marey’s age they are experienced in the ways of the bedroom.’

  Ramón stared. When would he ever understand women? Why did they not save themselves so that the giving of their virginity meant something? He had been saving himself for Alecia since he had first seen her the evening of her debut at Wildecoast. And Alecia had chosen Anton, a man so unworthy of her it took his breath away. After a month on the road with Vard, Alecia’s good name was surely ruined, but he would forgive her mistake, take her back and she would be his first and only partner. He would show her that his devotion had no bounds. His manhood stirred at the thought. It had nothing to do with the lovely woman in hi
s arms.

  ‘Now you are blushing, Ramón. Oh, I would give much to know your thoughts.’

  He frowned at her. ‘I was thinking of Princess Alecia.’

  ‘So, that is the reason you are holding me so close that I can feel your arousal.’

  Ramón sprang back and Benae laughed out loud. All eyes were upon them.

  ‘I will escort you back to your place, lady.’

  Ramón excused himself and left the dining room in a fury, but instead of returning to his room, he fled the castle and exited the grounds via the park gate. He craved release from his inner turmoil, needed to run off the frustration of the last few weeks, when his job had changed to minding four women who would sell themselves to the prince; needed to forget for a moment his aching desire to have Alecia in his arms; needed to banish the angry helplessness that Vard Anton had inflicted on him. He broke into a jog and was soon running into the forest.

  Chapter 2

  That was a magical night, Benae thought. The dinner with Jiseve and the princesses had ended well and the prince seemed reluctant to leave her side when he had been called to attend to another matter. She had left straight afterwards, although Avalin was still at the table, drink in hand. Well, that was what the horse-faced trollop got for trying to spoil Benae’s efforts to impress Jiseve. It had backfired on her, thank the Goddess.

  As Benae reached for her doorknob, a low moaning drew her attention. The sound came again, drifting over to her from the east wing. Though it was none of her business, Benae could not ignore suffering. She followed the noise until she stood before a door. Yes, the poor soul was within this room.

  Benae opened the door silently and entered, closing it behind her. Crossing the sitting room, she peered into the bedchamber, the stench of rotting flesh hitting her like a blow.