Her mind replayed the conversation with her father. Every shocking word. And the gut-wrenching screech from Tatiana when she’d learned that she’d been poisoned.
Luciana paused by the window overlooking the Southern Sea. The twin moons were setting in the west, where the Isle of Moon slept peacefully in the ocean. Out there was her home, her sisters. And here, assassins waited for their chance to kill her and her father.
Tears stung her eyes. All those years when she’d imagined true love and adventure beyond the convent, she hadn’t realized what a safe haven it was. She reached a hand through the window, wishing she could touch her sisters.
Father had offered to send her back. He’d said he could tell everyone that she had died. Then he would secretly send her back. And she would be safe.
Home. With her sisters.
She sang softly, “My true love lies in the ocean blue. My true love sleeps in the sea. Whenever the moons shine over you, please remember me. My lonesome heart is torn in two. My grief runs deep as the sea. Whenever the waves roll over you, please remember me. Please remember me.”
A tear slid down her cheek and angrily, she brushed it away. This was no time to be a homesick coward! She’d gone into this deception knowing it would be dangerous. She couldn’t surrender to fear at the first sign of trouble.
“Why are you upset?” Tatiana wailed behind her. “I’m the one who was murdered!”
Luciana whirled around to find her sister with tears running down her cheeks. As soon as Tatiana had heard the news from Father, she’d screeched and promptly vanished. “Where did you go? I was worried about you.”
“Were you really?” Tatiana gave her a dubious look.
“Of course.”
Tatiana sniffed. “It’s not fair. The king killed me just so he could get this moldy old castle.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It should be a crime to kill someone young and beautiful like me!”
Luciana sighed. “It is a crime. But apparently, the king can get away with it.”
Tatiana stomped a foot silently. “I should go to his palace in Ebton and sneak into his rooms. Yes!” She lifted her arms, her hands curled into claws. “I’ll haunt him without mercy. He’ll never know a minute of peace again!”
A sudden thought occurred to Luciana. “You can sneak into rooms.”
“I know.” Tatiana rolled her eyes. “I just said that.”
“Father thinks the assassin could be a new guard.”
“So?”
“Instead of haunting the king, you could sneak into the barracks and watch the guards.” Luciana stepped toward her sister. “You are uniquely qualified to be a spy!”
“I am?”
“Yes. Tatiana, you could find the assassin!”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Y-you really think I could?”
“You could save Father’s life. You could be a hero.”
“Oh.” With a sly smile, Tatiana curled a lock of hair around her finger. “Yes, I suppose I could.” Her eyes lit up. “Why didn’t I think about sneaking into the barracks before? I could watch the guards taking off their clothes!”
“Wait a minute. Don’t forget your mission.”
Tatiana clapped her hands together, then whirled in a circle. “I’m so excited!” She vanished.
“Wait—” Luciana sighed. Well, at least her sister was no longer upset. And she couldn’t actually get into any danger.
There was a loud pounding on her door. “Are you all right, my lady?” Jensen yelled.
“Yes.” She raised her voice so he could hear her through the thick door. “I was just talking to myself.”
She roamed about the room. It was much smaller than Tatiana’s bedchamber, but she liked it that way. It was cozy, and she enjoyed the fresh sea air that wafted through the windows. The wooden table and chairs in front of the hearth were simple in design. The bed was smaller than Tatiana’s, but still bigger than she was accustomed to.
There was something odd about the wall across from the window that overlooked the sea. The interior of the tower room had been painted white, but this one section looked like it had been scorched. She ran a hand across the blackened paint. Had someone held a torch against the wall?
Father had explained that her mother had found the duties of being a duchess rather daunting. So even though they loved each other very much and had shared a bedchamber in the keep, she’d enjoyed having a private place she could escape to.
Luciana washed, using the bowl of water and towel that a guard had left for her. Jensen had sneaked into her dressing room to fetch a nightgown for her. As she slipped it on, she winced at how thin it was. There were no shutters on the windows, and the night air was rather cool. Fortunately, the bed had several blankets.
She crawled under the blankets and leaned back against the headboard. She was tired from being awake most of the night. But how could she possibly sleep when the king wanted her dead?
* * *
Unable to sleep, Leo paced about his tent. The more he learned about Tatiana, the more confused he became. Why had she sneaked off to a tower room for the night?
He opened his desk drawer and glared at the letter she’d written to Captain Bougaire. He hadn’t opened it. The thought of reading endearments meant for another man was too wretched to bear. He’d rather take another lightning strike than see proof that she loved another.
He slammed the drawer shut. That chapter in her life was officially closed. She belonged to him now.
He resumed his pacing. In all fairness, he couldn’t begrudge the life she’d led before the betrothal. No doubt, she had never dreamed she’d be forced to marry the Beast.
Besides, he wasn’t a virgin himself. Five years ago, a great drought had fallen over Eberon. With no rain or lightning for a year, his power had completely drained away. Even so, only one of the camp followers had dared to let him touch her. She’d been older than the other women and not as popular, but she’d been kind to Leo. Especially when he’d asked her how a man could please a woman.
For a few months, Leo had experienced a taste of what other men enjoyed regularly, but then the storms had returned.
He glanced down at his gloved hands. It was tempting, so tempting, to go to the nearby cliffs, remove his gloves, and shoot lightning bolts over the water until his power was completely gone.
Then he would be able to hold Tatiana’s hand. Touch her cheek. Her hair. Her body. Woo her in bed like any other newlywed husband.
But with his power gone, how would he protect her?
“Leo?” the general yelled in front of his tent. “Are you awake?”
“Coming.” Leo threw on his cloak, then lifted the flap and stepped outside. Dawn was breaking, streaking the eastern horizon with shades of gold and pink. “What news?”
“Your lady is safely ensconced in the southwestern tower.” General Harden pointed at it, then looked Leo over. “You’re still dressed. Did you never sleep?”
“I couldn’t.” Leo glanced at the tower. “I’ve been trying to figure her out.”
The general snorted. “Take some advice from an old man who’s been married over thirty years. Never try to understand a woman. It will drive you insane, and you still won’t understand.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
The general gave him a wry look. “You’re used to winning battles, aye?”
Leo nodded. “Of course.”
“Then prepare yourself for defeat.” The general chuckled as he sauntered toward his tent. “Get some sleep, boy. She’s safe now.”
Defeat? Leo frowned. He wasn’t about to take the general’s word on that. Tatiana would soon learn that he was in charge. He studied the tower. Safe, was she? He was tempted to see just how safe she really was.
When he’d studied the fortress earlier, he’d noticed a narrow strip of land between the outer wall and dry moat. The strip ended with a cliff about six feet before the southwestern tower loomed up from the edge of the
rocky promontory. A metal drainpipe was fastened to part of the tower, probably used to carry waste from a privy to the sea below. A normal man could never reach the drainpipe from the cliff. He would plummet to his death on the rocks below.
But Leo was not a normal man. And he was tired of other men watching over Tatiana. She was his betrothed. His responsibility. His challenge.
He removed his gloves and stuffed them beneath his belt. Lightning power tingled his fingertips as he strode through the camp, headed for the fortress. When he passed a narrow pole, he wrenched it from the ground and tore the red-and-black flag off the top. At the edge of the camp, he broke into a run.
Power surged through his limbs, increasing his speed. If one of the guards on the wall spotted him, he’d be nothing more than a blur.
As he approached the dry moat, he leaped into the air, planted the pole in the ground, and catapulted himself across. Releasing the pole, he landed neatly next to the wall. Immediately, he took off, running along the narrow strip of land between the wall and moat. By the time he reached the cliff’s edge, he was at top speed.
With a leap, he hurled himself through the air. The sea raged against rocks below. Sparks skittered around his hands, pulling him like a magnet toward the metal pipe that ran down the side of the southwestern tower.
He latched on to the pipe and dug his booted feet into the recessed mortar between the stones. Barely pausing to catch his breath, he climbed up the pipe. Near the top, he spotted some wooden beams protruding a few inches from the tower wall. No doubt, the beams provided the base for a wooden floor inside the tower.
He reached for the first beam, leaving the pipe behind. With his feet dangling, he swung to the next beam and the next. Now he was hanging above the wall walk. Above him, there was a window, too far to reach. He’d have to go down.
There should be a guard inside the tower. Leo whistled, and sure enough, an armed guard stepped out to look around.
Leo dropped on top of him, knocking the guard down. One touch of his hand on the guard’s uniform, and the man was jolted unconscious. An accidental touch to the man’s bare skin would kill him, so Leo quickly put on his gloves. He dragged the man into the tower before any other guards on the wall walk could notice.
Now inside the tower, he spotted a door and opened it. The privy. He headed up the spiral staircase to the top floor.
Peering around the center column, he spotted two guards by the chamber door. He moved with lightning speed, and by the time they saw him, it was too late for them to unsheathe their swords. He grabbed each man by his helmet and clashed them together with enough force that they were both knocked out. As they tumbled onto the wooden floor, Leo removed one glove and peered at the lock in the door. The key was on the other side.
Energy surged around his bare hand, then reached out to connect with the large, metal key. Slowly, he turned his hand to rotate the key till he heard a click. He’d unlocked the door.
His heart pounded. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and tugged his glove back on. Then he quietly opened the door.
Chapter Thirteen
A whistling sound woke Luciana from a light slumber. Probably a bird, she thought as she peered around the dimly lit room. Dawn was breaking, but very little sunlight filtered through the windows that faced north and west.
There was no need to worry, she told herself. Jensen and another guard were just outside her locked door. And more guards were below. There were even some soldiers from the Lord Protector’s army on the ground floor. Father had assured her that while she remained hidden for a few days, all three assassins would be discovered.
She closed her eyes. No need to worry.
A clashing noise jolted her wide awake. She sat up as loud thuds hit the wooden floor outside. Her guards? Her heart leaped up her throat. The assassin was back!
Goddesses, help me! She jumped out of bed. Surely, the assassin couldn’t get in. She’d locked the door herself.
Slowly, the key turned as if an invisible hand were moving it. How was that possible? Terror seized her in an iron grip as she looked frantically around the room. No weapons. If she jumped out a window, it would probably kill her.
With trembling hands, she reached for the candlestick on her bedside table. With her right hand she yanked out the lit candle. Then she grasped the brass candleholder upside down with her left hand. If the assassin drew near, she’d burn him with the candle and clobber him with the heavy base of the candleholder.
Goddesses, give me strength. She’d never used violence before. But what choice did she have?
The door opened slowly, and she pressed against the wall as a cloaked man slipped inside. She couldn’t make out his face hidden in the hood, but there was something oddly familiar about him.
He was tall. Muscular. Strong. He stepped noiselessly into the room, his movement stealthy and controlled.
Now. I should attack before he sees me. She drew in a deep breath and eased forward.
He spun around to face her, and she froze. His hood kept his face in shadow, but she could feel his gaze on her. His head tilted as if he was looking her over inch by inch. Suddenly she was painfully aware that she was wearing nothing but a thin white nightgown. And he was still staring.
“I apologize for alarming you,” he said softly. “I thought you would be asleep.”
“You hoped to stab me in my sleep?” She extended the candle toward him. “Don’t come near me.”
He remained still, but she could feel an intensity radiating around him, as if he was filling the room with a great deal of energy that he somehow kept in check. “You should put the candle down before the wax burns you.”
“You’ll be the one getting burned.” She widened her stance and brandished her weapons. “You should leave while you have the chance.”
There was a flash of white teeth when he smiled. “You’re brave. I like that.”
She blinked. Since when did an assassin flatter a victim before doing his deadly deed? “Make no mistake. I will hurt you.” She raised her voice and yelled, “Guards!”
“They can’t hear you.” He strode toward the window that overlooked the Southern Sea.
Her mouth fell open in disbelief. He’d turn his back on her? How could he be so sure she wouldn’t attack? Or was he so arrogant he assumed her attack would fail? She was tempted to clonk him on the head just to prove she could.
She slapped herself mentally. Why fight an assassin when she could escape? She eased toward the door.
He peered out the window. “No need for you to leave. Especially dressed like that.”
She glanced down and winced. Tatiana’s nightgown was embarrassingly sheer. Even so, survival was more important than modesty. She took another large step toward the door.
He turned toward her, and she stilled. “I came to make sure your room is secure.”
What? “Why?”
“To keep you safe.” He studied the hearth for a moment, then moved to the window above the wall walk.
Who was this man? Somehow, she felt as if she should know him. Even his voice sounded familiar.
He peered out the window. “This could be used to access the room. You’ll need more guards below.”
She winced as a bead of hot wax plopped onto her hand. Curse this man, she hated for him to be right. She ought to clobber him just for that. She shook herself. Why was she thinking about him when she should be escaping? She edged toward the door.
“Don’t go.”
Did he have eyes in the back of his hood? She knew he couldn’t, but somehow, he seemed acutely aware of her. That alone caused the skin on her arms to prickle with goose bumps. The tone of his voice, so deep and intense, was strangely appealing. She found herself unwilling to move. As if she was waiting, anticipating … something.
He turned toward her, and his chest expanded as he took a deep breath. “You’re beautiful. I like that.”
Her heart lurched into a pounding rhythm. Who was this man? Whe
re had she heard him before?
He strolled to the scorch mark on the whitewashed wall and touched it with a gloved hand. “What happened here?”
“I don’t know.”
He motioned to the door. “I’ll have a bolt installed. The lock isn’t enough.” With a fluid movement, he bent over and whisked a dagger from his boot.
She gasped.
He straightened. “You need not fear me. I will not harm you.”
She blinked as the familiar words clicked in her mind. “Ye—you’re the false priest who listened to my confession.”
His teeth flashed white again as he smiled. “You’re clever. I like that.”
She swallowed hard. Was he trying to kill her with compliments? At the rate her heart was hammering, he might succeed.
He tossed his dagger onto her bed. “Keep it by your pillow. Don’t hesitate to use it.”
“On you?”
Another flash of white as he smiled. “You could try.” His smile faded, and she could feel his gaze moving slowly over her. The last remnant of her fear melted away, and a different sort of sensation crept into her, making her skin tingle and her heart flutter instead of pound.
She lowered her weapons, and the movement extinguished the flame on her candle. How could he affect her like this? With just a few words and a smile, he was rendering her defenseless.
“Tatiana,” he said softly, and she swore she felt heartache in his voice. Or perhaps that was her own heart twisting, for he had called her by the wrong name.
He stepped toward her. “I promise I will do my best to never harm you.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m—” Shouts rang out in the tower, and he sighed. “I’m out of time.” He strode toward the window overlooking the wall walk. “I’ll see you again soon.”
Her jaw dropped as he climbed onto the stone windowsill. Surely he didn’t plan to jump?
More loud voices sounded outside her door. Her unconscious guards had been discovered.
The cloaked man could barely fold his tall frame into the window. He glanced back at her. “I’ll make sure you’re safe, so get some sleep.” His smile flashed again. “And if you dream, think of me.”
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