The hall was better than three-quarters full when Edward signaled the servers to begin. He was hungry, and wasn’t about to wait on his half-brother’s pleasure before he ate.
Halfway through the fruit course, there was a hush in the chamber. Edward looked up to see his half-sister and her husband enter, followed by someone he did not recognize. The young lady was a beauty. Long auburn hair cascaded in curls to her waist, and it shone red highlights in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Her emerald green dress looked vaguely familiar to him: his half-sister’s, he realized, but it was lovely on her. She paused in the entry, her face slightly flushed, then Aslynn spoke to her, and she took a seat close to the high table.
Aslynn hooked her arm around her husband’s, and they walked regally to the high table. Adam seated his wife, and she said, “Thank you for waiting, brother.”
“Not at all, sister,” he replied, refusing to let her bait him. She was always uppity to him, and though he despised her, he was learning it was more satisfying to hold his tongue so she looked the boor, not him.
He took another bite of bread and jam, then leaned back in his chair. “Who is the woman? Should I know her?”
“I doubt it,” Aslynn said without looking at him. “She is the youngest daughter of Baron Tidwell. I believe your comment yesterday was ‘she’s a hag’.”
“Oh, her. Well, she don’t look much like a hag now. That dress is one of yours, isn’t it?” His half-sister didn’t answer, and he shrugged. The woman had caught his interest, though, and he decided he would have a go at her. It should prove amusing, if not satisfying.
Just then, the room fell in a hush again. All heads turned to the door where Sebastian stood, decked out in full regalia. He gazed around the room without emotion, and Edward felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise in hatred. His half-brother didn’t even want what was his—what had been promised to Edward until his thirteenth year.
The only emotion Sebastian showed was in taking a second look at Baron Tidwell’s youngest daughter who, in turn, blushed and looked down at her plate, but not before Edward saw the longing look her face betrayed.
Well, well, he thought, she carries the torch for my half-brother, and he has taken notice of her.
All the more reason to toy with her.
Edward sat back and watched Sebastian cross to the high table, seating himself in the center chair. Looking rather irritated, he waved a hand to signal for the diners to resume eating.
Servers brought fresh food to the crown prince, and he picked a couple items and plunked them on his plate, proceeding to push them around with his fork until Aslynn elbowed him in the side. Sebastian turned and glared at her, but he quit playing with his food.
Dissention between the royal twins? The idea pleased Edward, enough that he actually chuckled out loud as he attacked his breakfast with renewed appetite. Anything that drove a wedge between those two was a good thing.
Chuckling again, he looked up and scanned the room to see if anyone else found the situation funny. His eye caught a flash of white on the side of the dining hall opposite from the door, and he looked more closely.
A woman stood there, dressed all in white, with skin as dark as coal and hair black as a raven’s wings.
Then, she was gone.
Edward looked around to see if anyone else had noticed her, but it appeared no one else had.
She appeared again, this time in the doorway, beckoning to him. Seemingly against his will, Edward stood up.
Without a word, he left the room, pausing in the doorway until he caught sight of a flash of white down the hall, leading him away from the dining hall. Edward followed.
As he rounded the corner, he nearly bumped into the woman where she lounged against the wall. He stopped and took a moment to get a good, long look at her.
She was a beauty, though rather difficult to look in the eye. Her dress was blinding white and simple, with a revealing cut Edward liked instantly. Her cape was thrown back over her shoulders, revealing a broad expanse of satiny charcoal-colored skin at her throat.
Edward looked up to see her smiling.
“Can you keep a secret?” she asked.
⇜⊂⊃⊂⊃⊂⊃⇝
Mari only noticed Prince Edward’s abrupt departure from the room because of the stir it caused at the high table. She had been nibbling at her food and watching Prince Sebastian from the corner of her eye.
He looked so very handsome in his white uniform doublet, with its midnight blue paned sleeves and gold rapier carriage—the rapier and dagger conspicuously absent. His black hair was brushed back neatly—freshly washed, she noted. The blue breeches were neatly pressed and his black boots shone with polish. He looked every bit the crown prince, ready for coronation. Except that he appeared sullen, or even angry. He was the only one who hadn’t reacted to Prince Edward’s leaving; he only stared morosely at his plate without eating. This behavior was not at all like the man she had spent so much time with during the night.
It must be due to his lack of sleep, she thought, wishing she knew of a simple way to help him. His comments about demons made her wonder if it wasn’t more than just grief over his father’s death that kept him from sleep.
“You’ve been keeping some very lofty company, girl,” a voice hissed in her ear. Mari jumped, startled to find her sister sitting beside her. “Why aren’t you on your way home?”
“I...,” Mari started to say Prince Sebastian had asked her to stay, but she caught herself in time. If Rochelle knew that, she would try to find some way to profit from it. But she couldn’t lie either. “I decided to stay until the coronation,” she said at last.
“You decided? And who’s going to care for the Baron?” Rochelle asked. “Really, Mari. Where’s your sense of duty?”
“Lara said she would watch him until I returned.”
“You told Lara you’d only be gone three days. She has duties of her own to perform. And where did you get that dress? It looks perfectly awful on you.”
“Princess Aslynn loaned it to me,” she began, feeling her face begin to flush. More and more people turned toward them as Rochelle’s voice began to carry farther and farther. She wanted to run, but knew she’d have trouble with the bench if she tried to climb over it in this fancy dress while everyone else was still seated.
“You mean you went begging to her for it?” Rochelle asked, a note of horror in her voice. “How positively....”
“Lady Mari,” a familiar voice said from behind her. Both she and Rochelle turned to see Lord Wingfield standing there. “Lady Rochelle,” he added, as if an afterthought. “Lady Mari, I dispatched the messengers, so all will be taken care of for you.”
“Messengers?” Mari repeated, feeling foolish, and still not recovered from Rochelle’s attack.
“Yes, the one to Dewbury to explain you will be late, the other to Greyloch for the nurse who will go to tend the Baron.”
“Thank you, Lord Wingfield,” she said, recovering some poise. “It is kind of you to accommodate my wishes on such short notice.”
“You dare wish to stay?” Rochelle hissed in her ear.
“Every subject of the crown is entitled to attend the coronation, Lady,” he said, almost sharply, as though he’d heard Rochelle’s comment. Then, more gently, he said, “Of course, I am glad to help.”
Mari smiled and looked down, feeling her face flush. Rochelle huffed and straightened to go back to her seat.
“Thank you, Lord Wingfield,” Mari said. “You have come to my rescue in more ways than one.”
“I saw the need. Do not forget I spent some few unhappy hours in your sister’s company.” They exchanged knowing smiles.
“Your timing is most agreeable, my lord. Again, I thank you.”
“It’s not going well,” Lord Wingfield said in a low voice to her.
“What? Oh!” She looked up at the high table and noted the prince and princess engaged in an obviously heated discussion.
Lord W
ingfield leaned in close and whispered, “My wife asks if he needs help sleeping. It appears he is not in favor of the idea. I had better go and offer support.”
“If there is anything—”
“I’ll let you know,” he said with a smile.
Chapter Six
At the high table, Sebastian remained firm in his resolve. “My answer is no.”
“If you could just rest one night, you would feel....”
Sebastian leaned in close. “You used to know how I felt about things, sister,” he said harshly. “If you still did, you’d know why I can’t sleep now.”
Adam had returned to the table and Sebastian held up a hand to forestall him from joining the argument.
“My answer remains, no.”
“But....”
“Enough!” he said, loud enough that many heads turned in their direction. He continued speaking in an intense whisper. “It is enough that I attend these foolish festivities. Do not expect the impossible of me.”
Aslynn stared at him. He knew she did not understand at all and it troubled him that he couldn’t bring himself to speak to her of it, but he would be able to tell her if she showed one hint of understanding him. Aslynn had always been better at knowing his heart. Why she couldn’t now....
Sebastian sat back in his chair and slowly, deliberately, turned away from her. He saw the hurt in her eyes as he did so, but he did not turn back.
He did not physically leave the room, but he was no longer attending the activity.
A thought crossed his mind. Maybe it wasn’t that Aslynn did not understand...maybe she had something else in mind entirely.
His roaming gaze caught and briefly held Lady Mari’s, and another agenda struck him. Perhaps his sister wished to put him to sleep so she could cast some spell on him to make him choose a bride—one she had use for.
He narrowed his eyes, but Lady Mari was already staring at her plate. He cast his gaze around the room, watching how everyone averted their eyes, or stopped whispering behind their hands when they saw him watching.
⇜⊂⊃⊂⊃⊂⊃⇝
Edward shut the door and leaned against it, watching the mystery woman prowl around his room like the wolf her cape suggested.
Her beauty fascinated him; her exotic coloring and lithe body were temptations his eighteen-year-old body found hard to resist. Her graceful movement brought to mind images seen dimly through peepholes from the secret passages, of husbands and wives engaged in acts of passion. Acts he had not yet been able to indulge in.
But something about this woman’s darkness repulsed him...something glimpsed in her eyes, a fathomless darkness of the soul.
He waited for her to speak and disclose this secret she had promised, but she appeared engrossed in exploring his quarters. She paused at his bedside table and picked up the book that lay there; a ponderous tome titled “Cain’s Coup: A Modern Military Interpretation of the Story of Cain and Abel.” She chuckled and sat on the edge of the bed, thumbing through the pages.
“Who are you?” Edward asked at last, impatient.
She looked up and smiled. “A messenger,” she said, and hefted the book. “Apparently a timely one.”
“One who brings me riddles?” he asked derisively. “Give me a straight answer, woman.”
The “messenger” laughed. “Peace, boy. I am here in your favor. I will give you an answer.”
Edward bristled. “Will you also give me the respect due me by my birthright?” he asked. “Or must I force it of you?”
She tossed the book onto the bed and stood up. Edward imagined he could see her dark energy crackling around her. Then she laughed again and the energy subsided.
“Do not bait me, boy. I can give you what you have always dreamed of. I alone. Ah, I see your interest now. Shall I continue?” She stood, arms akimbo, waiting for his response.
Edward licked his lips, all his posturing and anger gone. He was thirteen years old again, watching as a ghost and a stable boy lifted his future away, out of his reach. A stable boy found to be his half-brother, older than he by two years, and therefore, the first in line to inherit the crown of the Bonnie Isles. The crown his mother had told him was to be his every day of his remembered life.
“You would make me king?” he asked, and caught his breath to hear her answer.
And she made him wait for it until he thought he would explode. “Would, could, can, and will. For a price.”
“How? And what price?”
“First, the means. You will leave here tomorrow—”
“Leave? Why?”
“Patience, boy. All will be revealed. You will leave here tomorrow and travel to Denkirk, where you will join with Earl Hise, who is gathering an army even as we speak. You will join him, and return to Fair Haven in full glory to demand your birthright.”
Edward laughed out loud. “And my half-brother will simply hand me the crown and say ‘Take it, Edward. I don’t mind, really.’ I think not. He will see me coming and draw up the militia, and this so-called army will be wiped out. How many men can Earl Hise draw upon? Fifty? Even one-hundred? The militia will already be here as guests for the coronation. If the castle gates are closed, we’ll have to lay siege. It will not—”
“Such negative thoughts, boy. Small wonder you are not the one who will be crowned in three days’ time. But you could be. You’ll have noticed the sea brat has been...distracted of late. He will hardly notice you are gone. And the rest of the population and guests of Fair Haven will be anticipating a coronation, not a coup. You will ride directly through the gate and no one will be there to stop you. Your half-brother will have no choice but to surrender the crown. It will be flawless.”
“But what if...what if it does not happen as you say?” Edward asked. “What then?”
“Why, then you kill him. But it will not come to that.”
“Kill Sebastian?” Edward said in a hushed tone, the first time he had dared speak the words out loud. Despite his reading selection, fratricide was not an option he had seriously considered.
“You hesitate, boy? Have you suddenly decided you are not worthier to be king than the sea brat? Was I wrong to support you?”
“No,” he said, quickly. “No, I would make a far better king than Sebastian. I guess I just hoped there wouldn’t be any bloodshed.”
The mystery woman strode up to him and caressed his cheek. “The sea brat will surrender. There will be no need to draw his blood.”
Edward thrilled at the touch of her fingers on his jaw. He leaned into her hand. “I have your word on that?”
“Of course,” she said, her voice soft and sultry. “It will be the simplest of actions to make you king of the Bonnie Isles.”
“You mentioned a price?” he said, managing, barely, to remain focused despite the woman’s intense proximity.
“Would it be enough, for now, if I told you that you can easily afford it?” she asked, and kissed him before he could answer—a deep, passionate kiss that stole his reason away.
“For now,” he said, once he could speak again. It was all he could do to form those words.
“Good.” She stepped away from him.
“Are you not...staying?” His body still tingled from her kiss, begging for more.
“Perhaps another time,” she said. “I shall come for you tomorrow, and we will leave to meet your army. If you have need of me...just call.”
“Wait! What name shall I call you by?”
She smiled. “Maudette will do.”
Then she was gone. Simply vanished into the shadows of the room.
Freed from her intense influence, Edward looked about, wondering what he had just gotten himself into.
⇜⊂⊃⊂⊃⊂⊃⇝
Artemis was happy to see him; she leapt into the air, coming up short on the end of her chain, and Sebastian hurried to her to slip it off.
“I’m sorry, girl,” he said, and fiercely rubbed the huge mastiff’s head. “I know you miss me, and I miss you, too, but
all of these damn guests....”
Artemis licked his hands and arms, even his face when Sebastian let her reach it. The big brute had hardly left Sebastian’s side in the six years they’d been together. Sebastian had raised her from a pup and had the training of her, even when he’d only been a stable boy. Back when King Isaiah had offered Sebastian a position as war dog trainer.
Sebastian hated to chain her, but there had been worries that Artemis’ presence would intimidate the guests. Ladies in particular tended to be terrified of her. It had been three days, and the dog seemed to be thinner than normal. It was then that Sebastian noticed the bowl still full of the meat that was Artemis’ breakfast—uneaten.
“How long since she’s fed?” Sebastian asked the thirteen-year-old who’d been charged with caring for the dog.
“She’s not eaten a bite since you left her, Highness,” the boy said, bobbing his head.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he asked.
“I brought it to Master Jabari’s attention, Highness. He said he’d deal with it.”
Sebastian was suddenly and completely furious with Master Jabari for keeping this from him. “Bring fresh meat, boy, and quickly, lest I feed you to her.”
“Highness?” the boy yelped. “What did...?”
“Just go, Marc. Artemis is hungry.” Sebastian softened his voice toward the boy, knowing he was not part of the conspiracy.
“That there is fresh, Highness. I just put it out not an hour ago.”
“Good. Get more.”
“Yes, Highness.” The boy ran off on his errand.
“Here, girl,” Sebastian said, once he was alone with his faithful friend. “Eat. I know you’re hungry.”
The dog licked his hands one more time before diving into the food bowl with gusto. Sebastian watched her eat while the anger still churned in his belly. Why would Master Jabari not tell him his dog was so heartsick without him? He also felt a niggling guilt over not checking on Artemis sooner. She could have gone with him on the ride yesterday.
To Make a King Page 5