Warrior

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Warrior Page 9

by Lori Brighton


  Guilt had me surging to my feet and pacing as far as my heavy chains would allow. Perhaps it had been a mistake to go after the princess. Mayhap the woman was cursed. Not a thing had gone right since I’d brought her here. Hell, I should have killed her on the streets of New York when I’d had the chance.

  “Did I not tell you to leave me behind?”

  Gregor pulled on his chains, trying to break free, but merely rattled the metal. “I’m not angry we were caught.”

  I stared at a stain on the wall. It looked like blood. Old and faded. Acadia seemed so peaceful, so perfect on the outside. Here was the truth. It was like any other dungeon. It made me feel better to know this kingdom was not so beautiful deep down. “You’re angry because of why we were caught.”

  He hesitated. “What were you thinking?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I braced my foot against the stone wall and pulled. The metal bit into my wrists, but the chains didn’t budge. They held strong. Anger broiled, threatening to burn me from the inside out. It was always there, lurking. But it seemed particularly noticeable since I’d made the jump to Earth. I sucked a deep breath through clenched teeth, forcing my body to relax. As my mother used to say, nothing good ever came from losing control.

  “When I saw the man, I took action. I’m trained to take action. We want her alive, right?”

  “Do we? I don’t think it matters. I think your uncle would applaud her death. In fact, it would have solved everything. If she isn’t here to save her kingdom, they aren’t saved.”

  I didn’t respond. Gregor wasn’t known for his intelligence, but at times he surprised me. What could I say? That I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing her killed? Her death didn’t sit right with me. Hell, since when did we care about morality? Right was saving my own people. Right was putting myself first.

  Frustrated, I jerked once more on the chains. They rattled, but held steady. “Damnation!”

  “My lord,” Gregor started. “Are you—”

  “Don’t say it,” I snarled.

  Gregor slumped back against the wall, much like a child pouting. “I was merely going to ask if you’re attracted—”

  “I said shut up.”

  He pressed his lips firmly together, but his eyes glimmered with condemnation. Attracted to Shay? Of course not. I pulled at the chains, the metal manacles around my wrists biting into my skin. I welcomed the pain. She was insufferable. Annoying. Arrogant. Stubborn. Brave. Kind-hearted…

  I jerked on the chains again. “Do they intend to keep us here forever? I’d prefer they kill us and get it over with.”

  Hell, perhaps I was attracted to her. I slumped onto the bench. However, being attracted to her didn’t mean I’d give up my kingdom, my people, my life, for the woman. Gregor was right. She was a distraction I didn’t need. If I’d learned anything from my father, I would have let her get hit by that arrow. Kingdom first. Always.

  The sudden thump of footsteps echoed down the hall, startling us both. Perhaps Brynjar had grown bored and returned to torture us for information. It was, no doubt, what my uncle would do.

  The door screeched open.

  Shay stood on the threshold wearing a fresh gown of pale lavender. Her hair was swept up atop her head, tied with white ribbons, loose curls framing her flushed face. She looked feminine and perfect. My heart skipped a beat, my mouth growing dry even as I cursed my body’s reaction.

  Bold as you please, she stepped into the cell. “Why?”

  “My lady,” a soldier murmured behind her. “I highly suggest you wait outside.”

  She didn’t even look back at him, but kept her gaze pinned to me. “No.”

  Her command of presence captured me like no other woman ever had. It had been only a week, yet she had moved into the role of princess with an easy grace. She was supposed to be here, in Acadia. She should be leading her people. There was no doubt about it.

  “Why did you save me?” she asked.

  “My lady,” the soldier behind her continued. “You shouldn’t be down here. It’s not safe.”

  Finally, she glanced over her shoulder at him, a flicker of annoyance in her blue eyes. “I’m the princess, apparently, which means I can do whatever I want.”

  The soldier hesitated, bemused. The urge to laugh, or applaud, overwhelmed me. By the gods, she was amazing. “Can you?” I asked, drawing her attention back to me. “Well, that must be nice.”

  She stepped farther into the room, bringing with the scent of flowers, reprieve from the stench around us. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  I quirked a brow. “Mayhap I wasn’t trying to save you. Mayhap I was trying to abduct you.”

  She tilted her head to the side and looked at me like I’d said something stupid. Brows drawn together, lips pressed tightly into a firm line. “Why did you save me?”

  The cell grew utterly still. It was as if the very world paused, waiting for my response. Gregor watched me intensely. Even the soldier outside did not hide his interest. My jaw clenched. I didn’t like the way of my thoughts, the warring of my feelings when she was near. I sure as bloody hell didn’t like that she made me seem weak.

  “Because, having you would provide great leverage.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, not in the least hurt by my comment. I could feel the full weight of her judgement as she tried to read me. “They said I’m supposed to save Acadia from your people.”

  I didn’t respond. Instead, I waited to see what else she would divulge. How much had she learned? She’d known nothing when she’d arrived.

  She furrowed her brows. The sunlight pierced the one small window high on the wall and hit the side of her face, making her skin glow. “Yet, if I was going to save Acadia, wouldn’t I be better off dead? That is, better for you and your people. So why not let the soldier shoot me?”

  Gregor snorted his agreement. Oh, how he would rub it in when she left. A heated blush was slowly making its way up my neck. Hell, I hadn’t blushed…ever. They were both right, and I’d been stupid to underestimate their intelligence. Perhaps I hadn’t wanted to admit the truth to myself.

  “I wasn’t really thinking, Princess,” I sneered. “I reacted, as I’ve been taught.”

  “Hmmm.” She narrowed her eyes, studying me. “Interesting.”

  The flush crawling up my neck declared my guilt. Leave, damn her. Why wouldn’t she leave? I had to resist the urge to shift under her watchful gaze. I felt naked. Exposed. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the fact that it seemed as if she could see the very truth in my eyes. That she knew me.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter. You’re to be beheaded in two days.” She laughed, a wry laugh. “Pretty stupid and barbaric to me. I mean, seriously? They still do beheadings here?”

  Her comment startled me more than I wanted to admit. Despite what I’d said, I had been hoping they might not be so quick to kill. That I might actually have time to plan our escape. Use my charm and wit to get us out of this mess.

  She shrugged and started out the door. “But whatever. Not my neck.” She paused, her back to me. “Still, I guess I owe you a thanks. Whether intentional or not, you did save me.”

  I parted my lips to say something…anything. Too late. Instead, I laughed, delighted by her arrogance when I shouldn’t have been. With one last look of annoyance thrown over her shoulder, she moved into the hall.

  The door slammed shut, the metal bolt screeched back into place. Gregor and I didn’t speak until her footsteps faded and we were alone. I turned my gaze to the small window. The sun had set. The world grown gray. So, we would die in two days and it was my fault. Unless I did something drastic.

  The animal deep within that I’d been trying to contain reared its ugly head, eager for action. Damn Shay. I slammed my fist into the rock wall next to me. The skin on my hand ripped apart. For one long, breathless moment I didn’t speak. Blood trailed from my knuckles, dripping red spots to the floor. Perhaps someday another prisoner would wond
er whose blood stained the ground. I took in a deep, shuddering breath and tried to calm my racing heart.

  “Gregor, I’m sorry.” I looked at my friend, who stared at me with wide, startled eyes. His look of shock touched me. Made me feel guilty in ways I didn’t know I was capable of feeling. He’d been a soldier for years, but I supposed no man truly expected to die. “I know this is my fault, and I know—”

  “Dear God,” he hissed, his expression changing from surprise to disgust. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

  Chapter Seven

  Shay

  “You discovered the Queen’s Garden.”

  Startled, I looked up from where I sat in the soft grass to find Bryn looming over me. A tall, broad-shouldered shadow against the backdrop of the sun. I’d thought I wanted to be alone, but his sudden arrival made me feel better for some reason.

  “Yeah, Helen told me about the place.”

  I’d felt safe, protected, the moment I entered the small, walled garden. No one would see me, no one could judge me. And they’d been judging me. I could feel their attention, noticed the sidelong glances, the murmured whispers the moment I stepped into view. In here I could breathe. Be me. Think.

  I glanced back at the door, to find it slightly ajar. “I thought I was the only one with a key.”

  He didn’t respond and I wondered if he thought badly of me for shirking my duties as a princess, or if he just didn’t care. It was so hard to tell what Bryn was thinking.

  I tucked my bare feet under the skirts of my dress, embarrassed to have been caught without shoes on, although why, I wasn’t sure. “Did you know I was here?”

  A princess always wears shoes, or so I’d been gently reprimanded by my aunt yesterday. So many rules, I could barely keep them straight. At least half made no sense whatsoever, although I’d learned quickly not to question them.

  “No, I didn’t know you were here.”

  Dismissing me, he strolled toward a red rose bush. I’d caught only glimpses of him here and there throughout the days that followed my arrival. I admit when he’d dropped me off on that front stoop, I’d felt abandoned, hurt by his disinterest. Although I might admire Bryn, even find comfort in his presence, he, it appeared, was merely doing his job.

  “My grandfather was a gardener, you know,” he said. “He was the only one your mother allowed into this sanctuary. I promised him when he died that I would watch over it.”

  Bryn, the quiet, stoic warrior, always surprised me. Maybe that’s why I liked him. I stood, brushing my skirts free of grass and leaves, and slid my feet into my matching apple green slippers. I tried hard not to, but I admit I enjoyed the soft, floaty feminine gowns I wore.

  “So, you’re here just to check on the garden?”

  He gave a brief nod.

  Maybe he needed the reassurance of nature, of peace and quiet, as much as I did. Especially after what had happened only yesterday. The day had been chaotic, to say the least. Everyone had been ushered into the castle, as if the stone walls could provide protection when the very enemy, Prince Makaiden, resided here with us, deep in the bowels of the dungeon. Only the soldiers had remained outside, doing a thorough search of the gardens and woods.

  Inside, tension hung thick and heavy in the air. Choking almost. They’d been so concerned with who to blame, they hadn’t bothered to ask if I was okay. I’d tended to the deep scratch upon my leg myself, before anyone was aware I’d been injured. Not even Helen knew. If only I had some of that magical balm that Bryn had carried.

  I wasn’t sure why I kept it a secret. Maybe I didn’t want everyone to fawn over me. Perhaps it was because I didn’t want Prince Makaiden blamed for any more than they already blamed him for. Or maybe I was tired of everyone knowing every little thing about me and my welfare.

  Bryn glanced at me. “How did you sneak out?”

  But I was okay…wasn’t I? It was just a scratch. Sure, it was a bit surprising to learn my own people wanted me dead. But I’d read enough history books to realize that was common enough. I plucked a leaf from a branch, twirling it between my fingers. Whenever a person was in power, others wanted to bring them down a peg or two. Still…

  “My lady?”

  I jerked my gaze up to Bryn. “Huh? Oh. Helen told me about a tunnel the servants use. She…” I looked at Bryn for the first time since he entered. Truly looked. The way the sunlight hit his square jaw, those light, blue eyes…

  “You shaved,” I blurted out. “I wouldn’t have recognized you but for your eyes.”

  Although there was a world wariness in his gaze and a masculine line to his jaw, he looked younger now. Not much older than myself. He shifted, stepping toward a yellow rose bush, but not before I noticed the light blush to his face. I’d embarrassed him, and any other day I would have been amused.

  “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen years.”

  Eighteen? And already he was a leader, a deadly weapon. I watched him carefully as he walked, the way his muscles flexed, stretching his dark brown trousers and beige shirt. While the prince was refined, lean and elegant. This man was muscle and brawn. If the prince was a panther, Bryn was a lion. I knew I couldn’t trust the prince, but could I trust Bryn?

  A yellow rose in hand, he turned to face me fully. “You visited the prince?”

  It was my turn to blush. I tore my gaze from him, finding sudden fascination with the daisies that grew next to the wall. “I did.”

  “It’s not safe for you to be down there. Nor is it proper.”

  I tore a daisy from its stem. Proper? Annoyed, I gritted my teeth. I was so damn tired of being told what to do. A princess must always wear her hair up. A princess must always wear shoes, even in her own chambers. A princess must smile demurely when approached. I sure as hell didn’t miss the fact that men weren’t held to the same high standards here. I dropped the daisy, watching it flutter to the lawn.

  “Proper, huh?” I muttered. “And a princess certainly needs to be proper.”

  He moved toward a bush with little purple flowers that was planted next to me, and feigned interest in the plant. I was highly aware of how close he stood. The musky scent of clean male swirled around me, tempting and taunting, so at odds with the noxious odor of the dungeon where the prince waited. Damn it all, I liked Bryn. I didn’t want things weird between us.

  “He was chained,” I said. “It was fine.”

  He frowned, his brows snapping together. I studied his features, wondering if he was cute or if it was his aura of confidence that called to me. I’d noticed more than one female servant following him with her eyes. No doubt about it, he was tall, blond, and handsome. The quiet, stoic type. The complete opposite of the prince, I couldn’t help but compare the two.

  He brushed his fingers over the blue flowers and I wondered how hands that had killed, could be so gentle now. “You need permission to go to the dungeons.”

  “Permission?” Unbelievable. I turned in a flurry of skirts, and headed toward a small apple tree planted in the middle of the garden, before I did something I’d regret…like punch him in his handsome face. My very skin itched with irritation. “I’m the princess, soon to be the queen. The only royalty left.”

  Or so I’d been told. It still annoyed me that Bryn hadn’t mentioned as much when we’d traveled here. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had time. Caught unaware, I’d felt like a total idiot when Helen had told me.

  He followed me. “Well, yes. You are the princess.”

  I paused at the base of the apple tree, knowing there was more to his comment. Pink blooms wavered on a breeze that sent their sweet perfume through the salty air. I couldn’t even enjoy it. “You can’t have it both ways, Bryn. Either I am the leader here, or I’m not.”

  The look of confused exasperation upon his face almost made me laugh. Almost. He braced his large hand on the trunk of the tree and leaned closer to me. He looked like a man trying to explain geometry to a five-year-old. “There are protocols in place that y
ou must be aware of. You can’t just do as you wish.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Well then, what is the point of being royalty?”

  “The point?” His voice rang with shock. I had a feeling no one in my royal family had ever questioned their position. “The point?”

  I quirked a brow, waiting for his response. “Well?”

  A slow smile spread across his lips, a dimple appearing in his left cheek. Surprised, and unable to stop myself, I smiled in kind, unsure what we found amusing. Perhaps the entire situation. Or maybe just the fact that I was a supposed princess.

  Grinning, I said, “It’s not funny, you know.”

  He shook his head. “You are utterly ridiculous.”

  I frowned. “You can’t call me Shay, but you can tell me I’m ridiculous?”

  He pulled the yellow rose from his shirt pocket and reached out. Those callused fingers brushed the shell of my ear as he tucked the flower behind it. A heated shiver whispered over my skin. “Protocols, you know.”

  I released a breathy laugh, feeling oddly warm. “There is a protocol that says you can’t call me by my given name, but not one against insulting me?”

  His gaze met mine and held. There was amusement there, but something else, something more…as if he’d tasted a new flavor he found intriguing, but wasn’t quite sure he enjoyed.

  We both fell silent. Our flirting had made things awkward. Time to talk about business. “Did you question the soldier who tried to kill me?”

  “He killed himself before we even got to him.”

  Startled, I stiffened. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “It’s what many soldiers do, to keep from divulging information.”

  The door creaked open. “My lady?”

  I jumped away from Bryn as if we were guilty of something more than just sharing a smile. Helen peeked around the thick, wooden door that led into the garden. How long had she been there, and why did I feel as if we’d just been caught rolling around on the grass, making out? “Yes?”

 

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