by C. A. Szarek
Castle Durroc can be for later.
It would be. She refused to accept defeat. She’d accepted too much already. Perhaps she should confront the king about what he’d told the Duke of Tarvis.
“My lady?” Lord Avery asked. He shifted in his boots, his discomfort palpable.
Elissa felt a pang in her chest. She didn’t want him to be uneasy around her. “Aye, my lord?”
“Are you well?”
“I am, thank you.” She made her lips curve upward.
Act natural.
Elissa needed to get through midday meal and the time she was required to spend with the young lord from Tarvis. She forced her eyes on his.
He inclined his head. Lord Avery was tall, several inches past six feet, and he was leanly muscled, more of a scholar than a warrior, but he’d been knighted a few turns ago, so the duchess had told her, as a result of helping defeat the evil former archduke, Lord Varthan. Although his physique was pleasant, he didn’t have the muscle-mass of a certain knight that was trailing them.
They toured the gardens, looking at the fall flowers and discussing others that were asleep for the season. They didn’t speak of anything of consequence really, and the lack of pressure Elissa felt was nice.
It almost took her mind off the king’s conversation.
She’d never been meant to hear the words, but they swirled around in her head.
Lord Avery understood the purpose of their time together as well as Elissa, yet neither mentioned—nor seemed to be affected by it.
Well, except for his red face. He was twenty, he’d confessed, and the constant embarrassment made him seem even younger. She suspected this was the first time he’d been introduced to a potential bride, but if so, Lord Avery was doing well. He—and his awkwardness—was endearing, not irritating.
They strolled passed a small fountain, and the water called to her. She stared at the carved copper statues, which were shaped into two children appearing to play in the fountain base. Water shot up between the figures and flowed back down at the center of the piece. It was complex, detailed, but the water drew her eye, not the sculptures.
She lifted her hand and the water froze, forming a ball that floated above the fountain.
“Fascinating,” Lord Avery whispered.
Heat bit her neck and her gaze flew to his. The water ball sloshed back into the fountain. “I’m sorry. Sometimes…water just draws me.” It was more than that, but she couldn’t tell her suitor she was distracted by what the king had told his father. Her magic had shot out on its own, the water demanding it’s due.
“That is your main power?”
“Aye.”
“Yet you can control earth, wind and fire as well?”
“Aye.”
“Can I see?” His speech gained speed with every sentence. His gray eyes shone, and Elissa couldn’t help but laugh.
This particular distraction from her chaotic thoughts was welcome.
Lady Cera had told her Lord Avery adored everything magic—as well as understanding why magic worked the way it did.
The young lord looked down. “I’m sorry, my lady.” His cheeks were bright enough to match his hair again. “It’s just…elementals of your strength are rare.”
Sir Alasdair cleared his throat as if he was covering up a laugh as well, and Elissa’s eyes were drawn to her chaperone. When their gazes met, he tipped his head, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
Awareness zinged down her spine and she forced her attention back to Tarvis’ heir.
Nothing. Elissa felt nothing when Lord Avery looked at her. Not like when she looked at her knight—something she’d been consciously avoiding after the embarrassing moment in the great hall. His arched eyebrow had shouted he’d caught her sizing the two men up. Comparing.
There is no comparison, a voice whispered.
One was a lad, the other was all man.
Too bad Sir Alasdair wasn’t one of her suitors.
Guilt churned her stomach. She swallowed and forced a smile. “It’s quite all right, my lord. I understand the rarity of my gifts.”
Lord Avery nodded. “I don’t mean to be…pushy, my lady. I’m just curious.”
She nodded. “You may ask me anything you would like, my lord.”
“Call me Avery. ‘My lord’ is not necessary—considering the circumstances.” His blush reddened even more, if it were possible.
Elissa smiled—this time genuinely. Lord Avery was adorable, even if she didn’t feel a spark with him. She already knew he wouldn’t be the man she’d marry. But he was kind and sweet, and she would very much like to be his friend. She hoped he’d understand her decision. “You may call me Elissa, in that case. Considering the circumstances, as you say.”
She felt Sir Alasdair’s eyes on her and threw him a glance. The intensity in that blue gaze made her want to shift on her feet, but she didn’t. Elissa ignored the sensation darting all over her body and made herself look at her suitor.
“Very well, Elissa.” Lord Avery really did have a fantastic smile. It wasn’t as distracting as when the knight smiled at her—blast him—but it wasn’t hard to gaze at the lord’s countenance.
Her mind darted back and forth.
Lord Avery. Sir Alasdair. The new information about her parents.
Elissa’s gut twisted and her heart sped up. She needed distance from her young suitor, lest he sense—or worse, feel—her rapid pulse.
She drew her focus to magic. Needed to regain control of herself or risk something foolish like starting an accidental storm or flooding the fountain and drenching the three of them in the process.
Lord Avery fired questions rapidly, like loosing arrow after arrow, and she laughed when she couldn’t keep up. It helped with her loss of control, because she had to concentrate to process all his sentences. He apologized again, but didn’t protest when Elissa gently tugged her hand away from his arm.
“Here, let me show you,” she whispered, telling herself centering on her powers would help. She could keep her mind off her parents and maybe even banish that m-word that refused to exit her mind.
She closed her eyes and called to the air. Her body warmed, her skin humming with magic. It felt good. Warm. When she opened back up, both men were watching her intently. Elissa smiled for them and swished her hand back and forth.
A tiny wind was born, kicking up until it threw her hair around. It made their clothing flap. She could keep it going, offer more power, but her suitor was adequately impressed, his gray eyes wide, his expression delighted.
“Air,” Lord Avery said. “Your eyes glow almost white.”
She nodded. “A different hue for each element, or so I’m told.”
“Wow. Earth next?”
Sir Alasdair chuckled.
Lord Avery looked repentant, studying his boots for a moment. His chest heaved as if he’d taken a breath.
Elissa shot the knight a look. She wanted to scold him for making the lord uncomfortable. She could toss dirt in her chaperone’s handsome face, but that wouldn’t be the best demonstration of her powers. “Aye, my lord, whatever you desire.”
Sir Alasdair’s gaze was sharp now, and she threw a smirk at him. A muscle ticked in his cheek. She paused, her heart skipping. Elissa made herself look away—for the hundredth time that morning.
Her suitor flashed a lopsided grin that made him seem like a little lad.
She felt herself grinning back and called to her magic again. The scent of freshly churned earth tickled her nose, but Elissa had never found the scent unpleasant. She cupped her hands. Sparks rode under the surface of her skin as she shaped the dirt that came to her.
When she was done, she offered what she’d made to her suitor.
“Your eyes glowed green. Wow,” Lord Avery breathed. “A rose? Made of dirt.”
Elissa nodded. “I know it’s not very manly, but it’ll hold its shape. I sealed it.”
“I adore it. May I?”
She transferred t
he flower to his hand. It was a rosebud caught in mid-bloom. She’d always loved roses. Elissa conjured it by just thinking about blooms she’s seen in the queen’s vast rose garden in Terraquist.
“It’s hard. Feels like a wood carving. I cannot believe it’s made of earth…” Lord Avery’s concentrated completely on the item. “May I…keep it?”
“Of course, my lord.”
“Thank you, my lady—Elissa.”
She offered a nod. Elissa felt the knight’s gaze, but she didn’t spare Sir Alasdair a glance. A jolt that wasn’t a result of her magic skittered down her spine, but she forbade her feet from shifting. “There’s only one more element. Lord Avery, would you like to see it?”
“Fire,” he breathed, gray eyes wide.
“Aye.”
Elissa extended her palm, held it flat and concentrated. Heat kissed her body again and magic danced up and down her arms. She pinpointed her power on her hand.
Soon, a small flame was born. She urged it larger, until it burned bright and hot, the center bright blue.
“Impressive,” Sir Alasdair whispered.
Delight washed over her. The knight liked what she could do as much as her suitor did.
“Red eyes. And it does not hurt you, despite your draw, your strength being water?” Lord Avery asked, clear, clinical, like a healer trying to diagnose a patient.
“Nay, it doesn’t hurt me.”
In her other hand, Elissa called water, making its shape imitate the flame. She held both palms up to her suitor.
“Fascinating,” the lord said. “And do you not tire?”
She shook her head. “I would, with more exertion, like anyone. Magic can exhaust, but not from what I’ve shown you.”
“You’re so strong,” he praised.
Warmth settled in her cheeks. She shook her hands and the water and fire faded away, along with the surge of her magic required to keep them around. Elissa rolled her shoulders. She felt good.
Until she remembered what she’d overheard.
She sighed—and hoped very much neither of her companions noticed.
After her suitor had had his fill of her magic—adding a dozen more questions about what she could do—Lord Avery offered his arm and they completed their turn of the gardens.
It was a lovely fall day, and Elissa enjoyed herself.
“My lord, my lady, are you ready for midday meal? The bell sounded.”
She and her suitor exchanged a grin and nodded.
This morning hasn’t been so bad, after all.
Elissa could only ask the Blessed Spirit to ensure meeting her other three suitors was easy, and that they were just as pleasant as Lord Avery Lenore.
Chapter Ten
“Lady Elissa, is something wrong?” Alasdair stopped short of putting his hands on her, though he wanted to. So he could banish all visions of Lord Avery Lenore’s touch on her.
It had been innocent—first her hand in his, then her hand on the lad’s forearm, and tucked into his elbow.
Then she’d said, ‘Aye, my lord, whatever you desire.’
He wanted to stab something—then and now.
She’d no idea what she’d said—or how he would’ve given his favorite sword for her to say it to him. Of course, Lady Elissa hadn’t meant anything untoward. Certainly not the forbidden things Alasdair’s mind had jumped to. What she’d said had been as innocent as Lord Avery’s touch on her hand, her touch on his arm.
So why was it bothering him?
Midday meal had been surprisingly pleasant. The lad and Lady Elissa had included him in their discussions. They’d sat in a place of honor on the dais, and Alasdair also had a place, since he was their chaperone.
“Nay.” She paused in the corridor, before they’d made the turn to go into the guest wing of Castle Aldern.
Was it his place to confess his observations? She’d seemed upset and fidgeting during her time with the young lord.
She hadn’t been…normal. It’d worsened from what he’d thought he’d seen before they’d entered the great hall to meet the lad. She hadn’t been the even-tempered Lady Elissa he’d been getting to know for the past few days.
The most relaxed he’d seen her was in the gardens when she’d been working her magic—that’d been something to behold. His admiration of her had shot up considerably. The glowing of her eyes had been fascinating, but he preferred her natural hazel to each magical hue.
Such power in her small frame.
Then she’d been tense all over again at the high table. Perhaps distracted? Oh, she’d smiled when appropriate and even laughed at Alasdair’s teases and jests, as had the young lord and their other tablemates, but instinct told him something wasn’t right with her.
When the king had entered the hall to join them for the meal, she’d thrown a glare at him—or so Alasdair had thought. The lass had schooled her expression so fast he’d discounted it as imagined.
Why would Lady Elissa be cross with King Nathal?
The meeting with Lord Lenore had gone well. And her smile was back in place as she’d met the Duke of Tarvis, Lord Avery’s father.
She’d seemed normal.
Am I reading into something?
He cleared his throat.
“Sir Alasdair?”
Alasdair inclined his head. “Forgive me for overstepping, my lady, but you seem upset about something.”
She flashed a smile, but he didn’t buy it. Especially when she started to rub her arm, then plastered her hands at her sides as soon as she’d realized what she’d been doing. “I’m well. I enjoyed meeting Lord Avery very much. He’s a kind lad…man. Sweet and funny.”
Alasdair nodded, but he didn’t stop studying her face. His gut said her suitor wasn’t really what was on her mind. “If something is bothering you, you may tell me. Secrets are always safe with me.” He patted his chest and winked, trying to make her give him a genuine smile.
Lady Elissa laughed, but it still had an edge he didn’t like. She squeezed his forearm and he had to swallow as a bolt of energy shot into his biceps. If she’d noticed—or felt it too—she didn’t give any clues.
Not for you. She’s not for you.
It’s fine. That’s what I want, anyway.
He needed to keep adding that caveat. If he didn’t, he might…
Oh, hell. Stop.
He’d escorted her to meet a suitor—with three more to come—for Blessed Spirit’s sake.
“Thank you, Sir Alasdair.” She chewed on her bottom lip as if she wanted to say more, but didn’t.
Her mouth was thick…luscious, and the last thing he needed was for Lady Elissa to draw attention to it. He tried not to groan. “Any time.”
Finally she gave him a real smile. Her small hand gripped his arm again. Alasdair felt hot, although the touch had been light.
“Actually…”
“Aye, lass—my lady?” He couldn’t keep the proper honorific on his tongue, and it made him want to kick himself. Even if he hadn’t called her by her given name—he’d never, maybe not even if invited—he couldn’t seem to stop calling her lass. It was too casual. Not proper.
Her breasts rose and fell as if she’d taken a big breath, and he tore his gaze from them.
“I’d like to go riding.” Lady Elissa’s beautiful eyes implored, and Alasdair’s gut tightened.
He didn’t want to tell her no, but he had to. “Unfortunately, that’s not possible.”
“Why?”
“You’re not permitted to leave the castle walls.”
“Even with an escort?”
Alasdair inclined his head. “Nay, my lady. I’m afraid not.”
She opened and closed her fists at her sides. “I need to get out of here.”
Concern constricted his chest. He took a step toward her. “We can go outside, walk in the gardens again. Or tour the bailey. Whatever you’d like.”
“I’d like to go riding.” Lady Elissa cleared her throat and shook her head. “Nay. I need…to go…r
iding.”
“I’ll request an audience with the king.”
“I can’t wait. I have to go.” Now she wouldn’t look at him.
“My lady, what’s wrong?” Every fiber in his being wanted to reach for her, but Alasdair didn’t.
“I need to go.” She squared her shoulders and stood taller. “I’m sorry. I can’t wait.”
He reared back. Grabbed her wrist, but was careful not to hurt her. He tugged, until she looked at him. “You will obey. You’ll stay here. With me.” Alasdair kept his voice even, but gave her a hard edge, so she’d realize how serious he was.
So she’d stop arguing. She wouldn’t win. Not in this. It was his duty to protect her. He’d do so, no matter what it took.
Hazel eyes flashed, almost glowing with green and gold flecks. Her loose hair surrounded her like an aura. Her delectable mouth was a hard line. Alasdair didn’t miss her fists clenched tightly at the sides of the pretty silver gown, either, as if she was restraining herself from hitting him. Gone was the polite lass who’d met one of her suitors. “You have no power over me.”
Alasdair growled and took another step, intentionally towering over her. He could feel her body heat—and her ire.
She tilted her chin up. Her posture was regal. Angry.
“I have every power over you. I’m supposed to protect you.”
“I need no protecting.”
“The king disagrees.” He shoved away the urge to wince. Mentioning the king was akin to tattling like a lad, and Alasdair needed no justification for following orders. His duties.
“I refuse to be a prisoner here.”
“No one said you’re a prisoner.”
“I won’t be trapped. You’re treating me worse than a captive. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Nay, my lady. I’m following orders.” He made an effort to soften his voice. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Her eyes narrowed, but it didn’t diminish her beauty. “I am safe.”
“Lass—”
“Aren’t I?”
The question was a dare, and he wasn’t permitted to tell her the information she was digging for.