by Frost Kay
“What is your name, young man?”
Big brown eyes peered at him from a round face. “Xavie, my prince.” The duke cleared his throat and the little boy’s eyes darted to his father. The duke smiled, puffing out his chest a little so Xavie straightened and puffed out his chest. “I mean Xzavier, my lord.”
Tehl bit back a smile at how the boy had tried to deepen his voice. “Is it uncomfortable to be a lion, Xzavier?”
Xavie scratched at his neck where the scruff must have tickled him. “Well…it itches like the dickens,” he spouted, pulling on it.
“Xzavier!” his mum scolded. “Where did you learn that phrase?”
The little boy slid a glance to the duke before looking quickly to the floor. The duke smashed his lips together to keep from laughing while his wife blushed and discreetly swatted him on the arm.
Tehl focused back on the Xzavier. “My costume is bothering me too. You know what helps me get through it?”
“What?” he asked curiously.
“Sweet treats,” he replied, offering the lemon tart to the boy. He swore Xavie’s eyes widened to twice their usual size and glazed over. Chubby little fingers reached for it, but then hesitated.
“Go on,” Tehl reassured, “it’s for you.”
The little fingers swiftly plucked it from his hand, cradling it in his little palms like the most precious of treasures. “Thank you!” He squealed, rushing to show his mum his newfound prize. She wiggled her brows at him, enjoying his enthusiasm. Tehl stood, grinning down at the little Xavie who returned it tenfold. After the duke and duchess had withdrawn, Tehl padded up the steps to the dais, returning to his seat.
Sam clasped him on the shoulder. “Well done, brother. You notice the needs of others, it will make you a good ruler one day.”
Tehl shrugged off the compliment and focused on the people milling about.
“The Methians have yet to arrive.” He had awaited them all week. They had received word there had been a delay due to weather, so he had no clue when to expect them, and that put him on edge.
“Crown Prince Rafeth of Methi and Lady Salbei,” the Herald’s voice echoed.
“Well, well. Speak of the devil,” Sam whispered.
Tehl scrutinized the couple descending the staircase into his ballroom. The prince was a tall, muscled man with wide shoulders and a trim waist. A long scar ran from his eyebrow to his chin, giving him a dark, dangerous air. The prince ran a hand through his rakish hair, the glossy auburn waves, so dark they were almost black. Numerous pairs of female eyes tracked his approach.
“Damn,” Sam whispered, “there goes half my harem.”
If he wasn’t so tense, he would have laughed at his brother’s woe-begotten tone. Tehl turned his attention to the woman who accompanied the Methian prince.
A sirenidae.
Tehl barely managed not to gape.
A damn sirenidae sent from the sea to tempt him.
A sea of blue and green showcased her fine figure, her nipped in waist and flaring hips accentuated by her seductive skirt. As she glided down the stairs, it undulated like the sea itself. Every step she took provided tantalizing glimpses of her legs. Her shiny, dark brown hair caressed her chest and fell a couple inches above her navel. His gaze dropped to her petite sandaled feet; even those were attractive. He had to give it to the Methian prince; he sure knew how to pick women.
“My God,” Sam breathed. “I would sell my soul for one night with that stunning creature.”
For once, Tehl completely agreed with his brother. If only she would lift her head. He slid his gaze back to the Methian prince who was currently staring at him as he whispered something in her ear. Their gazes locked, his eyes feral as he glared at Tehl.
Point taken, she was his.
Sam’s sharp inhale caught his attention. He looked to Sam with raised brows.
“Bloody hell,” Sam cursed. Sam glanced at him and then back to the approaching couple, so Tehl too turned his attention back to the foreigners when a pair of striking emerald green eyes met his boldly.
Familiar eyes—nothing foreign about them.
Recognition dawned. He blinked a couple times to make sure he was seeing clearly.
It was the rebel. She was the Methian prince’s companion.
What the hell? How was she acquainted with the Methian prince? Was she their spy or was she spying on him as well? Questions popped up in his mind, one after another but, with some effort, he pushed his questions aside. Now was not the time.
Let the games begin.
They stopped at the foot of the dais, and the room quieted as whispers circulated around them. Tehl stood and nodded his head to the other prince. “Welcome to my home, Your Majesty. I am glad you have traveled safely to our kingdom. I hope you shall enjoy your stay with us.”
Prince Rafeth bowed. “I thank you for your invitation. We were happy to receive it and be afforded the opportunity to visit your beautiful kingdom.”
Tehl caught sight of Gavriel on his left. His cousin stood stock-still, staring at his supposed friend, the mysterious Sai. She stared back at him with not even a glimmer of recognition.
The prince’s eyes narrowed at his interest but he swept his arm out to introduce the woman. “Let me introduce Lady Salbei, my companion.”
She smiled at them and dropped her gaze to the floor, shyly. Oh, she was good. That girl didn’t have a shy bone in her body. She executed a perfect curtsey and hovered there.
Sam slipped down the stairs to lift her from the ground. He picked up her hand and kissed it. “My pleasure to meet you, my lady,” he mumbled against her skin, oozing charm.
“The pleasure is all mine,” she purred back, dark lashes fluttering.
Sam winked at her, and Rafeth shifted closer to her side. The prince was not stupid; he knew when another man was trying to encroach on his territory. His brother needed to be careful this time. Tehl, however, needed to play host.
“We would be delighted if you would sit at our table and enjoy refreshments. One of my servants will direct you.” A servant appeared at their side and bowed low.
The prince nodded graciously. “We will humbly accept your invitation.” He turned and offered his elbow to the rebel at his side. “My lady.”
Tehl sat on his throne and took their measure as they followed the servant to the courtyard. He about swallowed his tongue at the naked skin bared to his eyes. Her back was completely bare save four delicate ties holding her top together. Her hips swayed as she walked, leaving a trail of drooling men in her wake.
“What an interesting twist,” Sam murmured. “Who knew she cleaned up so well? You know, I like my women devious… If I could just sneak her away from the prince…” his brother trailed off, probably thinking of a way to steal her virtue. “Do you think he knows?”
“Knows what?” Tehl asked quietly.
“Who she is.”
“I couldn’t say,” Tehl said. “I don’t know what to think. In the last month of trying, we still have learned nothing about her. We already knew she wasn’t some street rat, but it appears she’s the Methian prince’s companion.”
“She is not someone new to him either,” his brother remarked in a low tone. “I could tell from the way they moved together, and his reaction to your stare and my wink. Their relationship is real.”
“Is she a spy for the Methians? Or is she a plant for the rebellion?” he asked under his breath.
Sam’s lips tipped up. “It’s a mystery I intend to untangle. I will keep our new guests occupied.” Sam sauntered down the stairs, smiling and winking at female passersby. No matter their age, they blushed and smiled back.
Tehl ignored his brother’s antics and looked to his cousin. Gav seemed rooted to the same spot, scowling at the floor.
“She didn’t even acknowledge me,” Gav gritted out, looking up at him with fire in his eyes. “Never once did her expression flicker. I even questioned my own eyes for a second until I spotted the scars.”
&
nbsp; “Scars?” He hadn’t noticed any scars.
Gav scoffed at him. “Of course you didn’t notice them. You were too busy ogling her, right along with most other men in this room.”
Tehl shot him a dirty look but quickly smoothed it when their exchange garnered attention. “We will figure this out. Sam is gathering information as we speak.”
Gavriel snorted. “Maybe halfway to helping her out of her skirt.”
Tehl brushed that comment away, along with the accompanying uncomfortable stab of jealousy. A servant entered, bowing before him. “Dinner is ready, Your Majesty.”
Tehl descended the stairs, the crowd parting for him, bowing as he walked by. Swiftly, he made his way outside and toward a table that was raised above the rest. Reaching it, he turned to face the crowd below him. He picked up a goblet of wine and raised it to the people. “Good people of Aermia, I stand before you, in the king’s stead, to start the festivities this eve. I am not one for speeches, so…” He paused and smiled. “Let the festivities begin!”
The crowd roared back at him as he set his goblet down, and music filled the air. He surveyed the jovial crowd as they oohed and ahhed over all the work that had gone into tonight; His staff had done well. There were candles in little glass jars hung on ropes high above their heads. They winked in the darkening sky like stars. Large, dark blue lanterns sat on carved wooden columns, illuminating the area in soft light. Exotic orchids perfumed the air, spicy and sweet.
Soon though, other scents filled the air, those of roasted meat, herbed bread, and rich gravy. Hordes of his staff moved into the courtyard and up to his table, laying out a beautiful banquet.
“Thank you,” he said to those working around him.
Despite his hunger, he focused on the people surrounding him. There were a couple of his advisers, some visiting nobility, Gavriel, Sam, the Methian prince, and the rebel. He still couldn’t get any name to stick to her. Rebel? Ruby? Sai? Lady Salbei? Who was she?
His companions for the evening gazed at him expectantly. “Please sit. Prince Rafeth, Lady Salbei, it would please me greatly to have you dine with me.” He gestured to the seats on his right sit.
Rather than place himself between her and Tehl, Prince Rafeth guided Lady Salbei to the seat next to him, which he thought odd. He glanced at Sam from the corner of his eye, noting that his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. His brother had noted it as well. Sam and Gav sat on his left and across from the foreign prince.
Tehl took a bite of the roasted rosemary red potatoes, savoring the herbed butter. He swallowed and looked at the prince. “With everything that befell you on your journey I’m glad you’ve made it here unscathed.”
“It’s fortunate we made it here at all. We kept getting delayed. Once we made it past your border, however, it was nothing but smooth sailing.”
“Do you sail?” Tehl asked, trying to keep the conversation flowing. “I would love to hear about your homeland.”
“I enjoying sailing every once in a while.” The prince gestured toward the sea. “Our sea is nothing like yours, the water is gray and turbulent most of the time. Our forests are our real source of pride. There are trees as far as the eye can see, and everything is lush and green. To those unfamiliar, I’ve heard seeing it for the first time seems unreal. The lakes are so clear you can spot fish swimming at thirty feet down.”
“How do you farm?” Gav asked, intrigued.
The prince twisted his wine goblet between his fingers. “We have areas that have been cleared over the years, usually near lakes and springs, and that’s where we grow our food.”
“What about cities?” Sam probed.
The prince watched Sam for a moment before he answered. “We, of course, have cities but not where you would expect them.”
Tehl tucked his grin away, knowing that answer would bother Sam.
“Where?” Sam asked, his curiosity shining through.
Rafeth caught the twitch of Tehl’s lips and shot him a grin before turning back to Sam. “Our cities are in the mountains themselves.”
“You mean in the mountains?” Sam asked, incredulous. “That would take years of work.”
Rafeth shrugged, “You’re not wrong. Our homes were carved out of the mountains hundreds of years ago.”
Sam gaped at him for a moment before recovering. “How interesting.”
Gav’s voice whipped through the air. “My lady, where are you from?”
Lady Salbei smiled at Gav, eyes bright. “I am from Aermia.”
“How did you ever come to meet Prince Rafeth?” Gav pressed.
She looked up at the Methian prince with a sweet smile. He picked her hand up and kissed it. “Would you like to tell the story, little one, or shall I?”
The rebel blushed turning back to the table.
She had to be the best actress Tehl had ever met.
She blushed on command.
Incredible.
“I lived in a little village along the Methian border in the providence of Challaraies. My parents died when I was quite young and my grams raised me. She lived in a cottage about a mile outside of the village, too far to run for help if we needed it. So we needed to protect ourselves.” She paused taking a breath. “Grams’s father had been in the Guard most of his life and was stationed in this little village. Over time he married and had three daughters. He decided just because he had girls didn’t mean they didn’t need to have skills so he taught them how to use a sword and bow. Grams passed it on, teaching me what she could.”
She cleared her throat and the Methian prince handed her his goblet. “Thank you,” she smiled gratefully at him. She took a quick sip and resumed her story. “Growing up, I loved being able to use both a sword and bow. But the sword was always my favorite.”
Her eyes sparkled at the shocked older men at the end of the table. “I practiced every day and loved every moment. As I grew, I had to take on more responsibilities because it got to be too much for Grams. One day when I was about twelve, I was exploring and I found the most beautiful meadow with a gurgling spring. It was clearer than anything I had ever seen and so full of fish. From then on, I hiked there every day. I would set up my fishing nets and then work with my sword. Years passed, and that meadow became my second home. I even made friends with the local animals.” She smirked at them. “But that is a story for another time.”
She picked up her story, but he wasn’t paying attention her words, only to where her hand unconsciously ran along the edge of her costume, where pearls met lovely skin. He jerked his gaze away and scowled. What was wrong with him?
Tehl glance around the table and smirked, he wasn’t the only one. The other men were just as entranced as he had been. The Methian prince’s eyes were locked on her, full of banked desire. He looked at her almost coveting, like she was his most prized treasure. She noticed none of it though, so lost in her story. Tehl tuned back in.
“The forest stilled, silent.” She dropped her hand, and the men held their breath, eyes focused on her. “I knew I wasn’t alone. I scanned my surroundings trying to figure out where it was coming from. The hair on the back of my neck stood up because I could feel that something watched. I clapped and hollered but still nothing, so I knew it couldn’t have been a bear. I thought perhaps my stalker was of the feline variety.”
Curses sounded around the table, and she grinned slyly at them. “Despite my best efforts, I found nothing. So I braced myself for an attack. Finally, when I couldn’t handle the silence any longer, I shouted, ‘I know you’re there so come out and face me.’ To my surprise, it was a man who stepped out.” Tehl looked from the prince to her.
Prince Rafeth chuckled. “Her swordplay was a thing of beauty. Every move was like water, such fluidity I hadn’t seen in a very long time. Not to mention she herself was stunning, so fierce but so tiny. One of the first things out of my mouth was ‘little one’. It popped out before thinking about it.”
She shook her head ruefully. “Needless to say, I was not pleas
ed with his appearance, nor his nickname, so I commanded him to leave my meadow. But all he did was laugh and said it was not my meadow, but his.”
“You were on Methian land?” a baron asked from the end of the table.
“She was,” Prince Rafeth replied.
“All those years I had been fishing and hunting on their land.” She smiled sheepishly.
The Methian prince ran his thumb along the top of her hand and sent her a secret smile. He didn’t like how Rafeth looked at her. Tehl frowned at himself. It must be residual guilt from the events several weeks before. He shook it off and focused back on the couple.
“It wasn’t long before his visits became a regular event. We even began to train together. I learned a lot from him.” She smiled at the Methian prince with true admiration.
She was a good actress, he would grant her that, but the emotion shining through was real. Their affection for each other was a reality. And the way the prince touched her, both with possession and interest…that was definitely real.
“Is that how you came by your scars?” Gav questioned looking her straight in the eyes.
The table stilled, silent as most of the men glared at Gavriel. Tehl couldn’t believe his cousin would ask that. Why would he make her relive that?
Sam even looked taken aback by Gav’s question. If looks could kill, Gav would dead. The Methian prince had retribution written across his face as his hand clenched the rebel’s. She looked over at the prince and gave him a small smile before cocking her head, staring evenly at Gav.
With intent, she untangled her hand from the prince and calmly removed each one of her cuffs laying them side-by-side on the table. She placed both hands on the table for all the men to see. “That’s what torture looks like, my lords,” she said in a low tone. She looked each man in the eye until she lifted her wrists up in front of her face and twisted them. “This is what happens when bad men have power.”
She stood up and brushed aside the delicate silver netting hiding her navel. A six-inch scar marred the smooth skin. “I was hung from a ceiling and then cut for their amusement.” She dropped the netting back in place and lifted her sandaled foot to the arm of the chair. Her skirt rippled away leaving her calf and thigh exposed. A map of cuts wrapped from the outside to the inside.