by Robin Danner
As he set up the target, she stifled a yawn behind a gloved hand. She hadn't slept well due to thoughts of a prince who seemed determined to cause her nothing but misery.
Not only misery, her conscience chided her.
Last night had been quite a revelation. She'd never been held with such tenderness. If she hadn't known better, she would've sworn he was sincere. But she was familiar with men and knew they spoke pretty words of empty flattery when all they wanted was to bed a female and then leave her.
In the past, many men had mistaken her choice of profession as a sign that she had lesser morals than other women. She'd quickly disabused those men of their preconceived notions and sent them on the way with either a bruised ear or a bruised face.
She had done neither with Mathis. She'd simply let him hold her, trusting an embrace was all he'd desired. She was a maid, true, but she wasn't ignorant of the ways of the world. She'd felt the arousal he'd been unable to keep hidden.
It would've been so much easier had she not known what he looked like under his clothes. She'd seen nude men. Her lifestyle was such that she couldn't help but be exposed to them at some point, whether treating their wounds after battle or happening upon them as they bathed in a stream near camp.
But this was different. This was the first time she desired a man in return.
Oh, stupid, stupid notion. Nothing could come of it but a broken heart. He was a prince.
Even as an infant, when she'd toddled after them, she'd known their stations in life were vastly different. The only place they could possibly stand upon equal ground would be in the training yard. In this area, she excelled.
She retrieved her bow and strode toward the line in the sand Hugh drew to measure the correct distance from the target.
Hugh came to her side and handed her an arrow from the quiver on his back. She planted her feet and drew her bow, properly notching the arrow. She concentrated on the target, and her finger twitched as she prepared to let go.
"Good morning!"
She yelped and let the arrow fly. It whizzed through the air, and she cursed when it missed the target altogether.
"Not a word,” she said out of the corner of her mouth to Hugh, who stood with his mouth agape. She swung around to level a glare on the person who dared to interfere with her training. “Your Highness, I wasn't expecting you this morning."
Mathis was dressed in a dashing manner with an open-necked white shirt and fawn riding breeches. His hair was damp from a recent washing and a wayward curl fell across his brow.
He really is quite beautiful, damn it.
He smiled, and it was blindingly white. “I thought to ask you to go riding, but Collin informed me you were here, so I came to offer my assistance."
"Your assistance is neither wanted nor needed.” She huffed and turned her back. She stiffened as he chuckled.
"Nadia, it appears that my help is definitely needed. What say you, lad? Your aunt was quite off target, wouldn't you say?"
Hugh grinned unrepentantly as he doffed his cap. “That she was, Your Highness. Had she'd been on the battlefield, she may have struck the horse instead of the rider."
"You are quite right."
Nadia growled and swung back around to poke a finger in the center of the prince's chest. “I would not have missed had you not purposefully startled me."
Mathis cocked his head to one side as if he pondered the idea. “Is that so?"
"Yes, it most definitely is so.” She had to tilt her head back when they stood this close to be able to meet his gaze.
She was used to looking most men in the eye and hated that he was so much taller than her.
"Then I propose a challenge."
She did not like the look in his eye one bit. “What sort of challenge?"
He lifted a regal eyebrow in a cocky manner. “You and I. Two aims each. The closest to dead center wins."
With anybody else, she would be confident and assured of her win, but this was Mathis, the man who once possessed the deadliest aim she'd ever seen. Had time changed that?
She was unable to turn down his challenge even though it would be difficult. “Fine, I accept. Name your forfeit."
He smiled as if he'd expected a competition all along. “If I win, you will accompany me to supper tonight."
That's it? She'd imagined he would choose something much worse.
Just when she was thanking her lucky stars, he spoke again.
"In a dress."
Hugh made a choking sound, which sounded suspiciously like laughter. The sound he made turned into an oomph as she elbowed him in the ribs.
Except for the occasional event, she had not worn a dress since she was sixteen. She even doubted she had one in her possession.
"Are we in agreement then?” The prince's blue eyes twinkled with amusement.
He'd shaved that morning. The faint shadow of a beard that had appeared during the past week was gone.
She'd thought the scruffiness suited him.
She saluted him with her bow. “Yes. And if I win, you cease bothering me for the remainder of your visit."
"Agreed,” he answered quickly, as if he had no doubt he would win.
Nadia wished she was that certain of victory. “Hugh, please allow the prince to borrow your bow."
Hugh handed his weapon to the prince. “Good luck, Your Highness."
Nadia shot her nephew an aggrieved look. “Traitor."
Hugh shrugged and did not look the least repentant.
Nadia sighed and motioned him aside. “You may be the judge, although you're clearly in favor of the enemy."
She arched a brow at the prince. “Shall I go first?"
"By all means,” Mathis answered with an exaggerated bow. “May the best man win."
"Or woman,” she snapped and assumed her stance.
Her fingers twitched with nervousness as she notched the arrow. She drew back on the string, murmured a silent prayer, and let the arrow fly.
It sliced through the air and hit the target about an inch to the left of the bulls-eye. She took her second arrow and re-adjusted her aim. This one landed in the bulls-eye nearly a hairsbreadth away from direct center.
She smiled smugly and stepped back. “Your turn, Prince."
"Nice shot,” he praised. “But not good enough, I am afraid."
With amazing speed and accuracy, he shot two arrows directly in the center of the bulls-eye. The second arrow managed to crop the first in half.
Hugh practically danced with excitement. “I've never seen anything like that in my life! Have you, Nadia?"
The blood drained from her face.
A dress? She had to attend supper on the arm of a prince in a dress?
Why had she allowed him to prick her pride enough to accept his challenge?
Mathis handed the bow over to Hugh and came to Nadia's side. “It seems I have won. We dine at eight. I will meet you in the hall five minutes before it begins."
He crooked his finger at Hugh. “Come along, my boy. You may join me for my morning ride since your aunt has much to prepare for this evening."
If her eyes could shoot daggers, he would have been dead.
The prince strode away with her nephew in tow as she wondered where in the world she was going to get a dress in time.
"You need a what?"
He may have had a couple drinks the night before but not enough to imagine this.
Nadia stood in front of him evidently frustrated beyond belief. He'd never seen her so agitated.
Talin tossed aside the papers he was reviewing and motioned for her to take a seat. He waited until she'd done so and then spoke. “You need my help in acquiring a dress?"
Twin flames of red colored both of her cheeks. “Yes. I couldn't fit into the one I have, and none of the dressmakers have a dress that can be altered in time to fit me. I'm too blasted tall!"
"May I ask why this sudden interest in fashion?"
"I lost a bet,” Nadia grumbled.
Talin w
as beginning to enjoy this. “To whom?"
She crossed her arms and looked completely put out. “Your brother."
So he'd been correct. Last night he'd begun to suspect something was brewing between those two. He'd even purposefully touched Nadia's hand to test the waters. Mathis may not have shown an outward reaction, but Talin had known his brother too long to not see he was upset.
Something must've happened this morning, but he did not want to delve too deep. His brother did not need him to play matchmaker.
Talin stood and stretched a hand to Nadia. “Come. We shall see what we can dig up."
He led her to the family wing of the palace.
He entered his mother's chambers, which had been left as it had been when she resided there. Some of her things were moved or given away upon her death, but many of her personal effects had been kept for the granddaughters that would someday be born. It had been years since he'd been in this room, but even now it was as if he could sense his mother's presence.
She'd been such a vibrant person, his mother. Full of warmth and humor, beloved by all her people.
The wasting sickness had taken her quickly, leaving behind a void he had yet to fill. The loss of his father nearly two years after his mother's death had almost destroyed him.
Mathis had suffered as well, but in his own way. His brother spoke of their parents often, publicly grieving when he'd learned of their deaths.
Talin had retreated into himself, hiding his grief from all but Collin. He owed his life to Collin, and now he could repay him somewhat by helping Nadia as much as he could.
He lifted the lid of a heavy trunk and removed several items lined with tissue. With care, he laid them across the bed.
His mother's clothes had been stored with sachets of dried roses, and the scent enveloped him. Roses had been her favorite, and he closed his eyes as her face flashed before them. Suddenly he recalled her lying there in bed, her thin body weak and riddled with pain.
He lurched backwards.
"Your Highness?” Nadia reached out a hand to him. “What is the matter?"
He cleared his throat and focused on the present, on Nadia. “You may take what you like from this trunk. You and my mother were of a similar frame."
Nadia's hand flew to her throat. “Oh, I couldn't!"
"Yes, you can.” He strode toward a side table and opened an engraved jewelry box. “The valuable jewelry is stored with the royal collection, but some of her inexpensive trinkets are kept here. You may borrow from this box as well."
He chucked Nadia under the chin, which he knew she hated, but he continued to do it just to be perverse. “You will bewitch my brother with your beauty."
She opened her mouth as if to protest, but he held up a hand to silence her. “You do not have to explain yourself to me, Nadia. The only thing I ask of you is to make sure my brother remains at N'ior until the wedding. Can you do that for me?"
At once, the bashful woman disappeared, and his loyal soldier remained.
"Yes, Your Highness."
"I have some work to finish up downstairs, but I look forward to seeing you tonight."
He left the room and took a moment to brace himself before going down the stairs. It had been many years, but the pain was still fresh. Just as his father's death haunted him, his mother's painful death filled him with misery.
He'd been sixteen, almost a man but not quite, and he'd been unable to help her. No one had.
He remembered hearing his father pace up and down the halls at night, unable to sleep as his wife lay dying in her bed. Her sons had not been the only ones to suffer. His father's grief had blinded him to impeding danger, and he'd died at the hand of a vicious assailant.
He and Mathis had survived, but death continued to threaten their kingdoms. Talin would do whatever was necessary to protect it all.
With the help of a maid Talin had sent, Nadia prepared to dress for dinner.
She'd chosen the simplest gown from the selection inside the trunk, and she still thought she was overdressed. Her dresses had always been serviceable cottons and poplins, intended for comfort and endurance rather than beauty.
Tonight she was dressed in a rich silk, which was the color of the sun. She'd never dressed in yellow before, but she'd chosen the dress because of its simplicity. The only adornment was a small line of ivory lace at her hem and wrists.
The skirts swished when she walked, and the fabric felt decadent upon her skin.
"This color looks perfect on you,” the maid remarked as she dressed her hair. “With your black hair, and those glorious eyes, you will catch the attention of every man present!"
Nadia preferred to ignore the maid's prediction. The last thing she wanted was the attention of men.
She glanced at her reflection in the looking glass and tugged at the bodice of the dress. “Are you absolutely sure it fits?"
She was quite a bit more well-endowed than the late queen. She feared that any moment she was going to burst out of the bodice.
The maid shooed Nadia's hands away for what had to be the twelfth time. “Just keep your head up and your shoulders straight and you will be fine. If you slouch, you will cause quite the distraction."
The maid's eyes met Nadia's in the mirror. “Unless that is your intention? Have you set your eyes on a certain young man?"
Nadia blushed. She couldn't seem to stop doing so. “I merely lost a bet and have to appear at supper tonight in a dress."
The thought made her want to groan out loud.
The maid smiled and continued to dress her hair.
In no time at all, the maid had created a masterpiece of wavy curls that fell to Nadia's waist. The sides had been pulled back from her face and held with pearl encrusted combs, which had also been borrowed from the late queen's belongings. They perfectly matched the pearl earbobs that dangled from her ears.
Nadia stood and examined her image from all angles.
The dress clung to her curves, emphasizing her trim waist. Her hair, easily her most notable feature, had been brushed until it crackled.
When she joined the army, Nadia had debated cutting it to a more serviceable length but couldn't bring herself to do it. The long length of ebony hair was her only concession to vanity and femininity. Now she was glad she'd chosen to keep it.
It looked quite lovely.
Turning away from the mirror, she held out trembling hands. “How do I look?"
"Oh, miss!” The maid clasped her hands to her bosom. “You look beautiful!"
Nadia nodded but still chewed her bottom lip.
Soon it was time to go.
The maid escorted her most of the way to the palace. Hugh and her father had gone ahead, so after she thanked the maid for her help, she made the remainder of the trip on her own.
She reached the great hall precisely four minutes before eight. The heels of her borrowed shoes clicked on the marble tiles as she clutched the skirts to keep them above her ankles and hurried to the designated meeting spot.
Mathis’ broad back was to her when she arrived, but he turned at the sound of her approach. Her steps faltered when she saw his face.
He gaped, his expression clearly astonished. Mathis was dressed in formal attire, a sash of purple signifying his rank across his chest.
He was so handsome, and for some reason he desired her company.
A prince. She mustn't forget he was a prince and out of reach. Nadia made a mental note to keep reminding herself of that before she fell completely head over heels.
She coughed to clear her suddenly dry throat. “Has everyone else already gone in?"
He stepped forward and took her hand. “You look ravishing."
With tenderness, he lifted a curl that lay over her shoulder. “I'd wondered what your hair looked like unbound, and my fantasies were nothing compared to the real thing."
He'd fantasized about her?
Nadia tried not to be flattered but failed miserably. “Shall we go in?"
"
Of course.” Mathis took her arm and turned her away from the formal dining hall. “We shall sup in private."
Had he not taken hold of her elbow, she would have stumbled. “Pardon?"
"As enchanting as you look tonight, I knew you would be uncomfortable being the center of attention. We shall take supper in the private dining room and then join the others for tonight's festivities. I hear there are to be fireworks."
"So you and I will eat alone?” A shiver tickled down her spine.
His mocking gaze was anything but innocent. “Unless you prefer to join the others?"
Nadia shook her head quickly. “No, it is fine."
She was grateful for the small reprieve. She may look her best, but some at court would wonder at her sudden transformation and correctly ascertain the visiting prince was the cause for it.
She did not want speculation to begin.
The prince to lead her down a side hall. Her steps were hesitant as she forced herself not to bite her lower lip again. The richly appointed hall was unfamiliar. She had not been in this area before, despite her numerous visits to the castle.
"Here we are.” The prince gestured that she should precede him into the room.
She stepped inside and gazed about with wonder. They were in one of Prince Talin's private dining rooms.
The room was small but expensively furnished. Rich, dark wood and velvet curtains muted the light and made the room cozy. The soft light of dozens of candles painted the space with a golden glow.
It was a scene for a seduction.
Nadia narrowed her eyes and then glared over her shoulder at the prince.
He acted as if he didn't notice as he moved forward to draw out a chair from an undersized table. “Please sit."
Her skirts swished as she stomped forward and plopped into the chair. “Thank you, Your Highness,” she said through gritted teeth.
He took a seat across from her. She shifted as she became more and more uncomfortable. Merely a glowing candelabrum and their place settings separated them.
The prince lifted a crystal wine glass and eyed her over the rim. “Don't be nervous."
"I'm not.” She picked up her own glass and took a large gulp.
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he continued to watch her. “I've prearranged several dishes I think you might like. The cook is quite exasperated with me."