Her Betrothal

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Her Betrothal Page 4

by Alice Wilde


  Cao, I swear vehemently to myself. I have a feeling we’re going to have to get used to being called out here. If only he knew how draining it was on our life essence.

  We’ll have to see how this plays out, but perhaps this will be a blessing in disguise. After all, he can’t be—I better cut myself off before I give away too many of my thoughts.

  “If only the girl would stop angering him,” Ero says.

  Ero, Roan, and I are prodded to move up onto the platform and then chained to the table by Annalise’s side. I’m thankful she can’t read my thoughts as I allow myself to look her over, my eyes lingering on the curves of her body and the sweetness of her face.

  Suddenly, I realize she’s staring at us too, and my face turns up to meet hers just as her soft brown eyes look deep into my eyes of violet. My heart skips a beat and blood rushes uncomfortably to my groin.

  “I don’t think we’ve seen anything yet,” I say as we are prodded into place beside her. “I think she’s watching us.”

  “Don't look,” Ero warns, but we all look anyway, meeting her gaze.

  I know it’s fatal to bond with her, but this is going to be hard to fight.

  Roan and Ero exchange a look.

  “Damn it,” Ero says.

  Five

  Annalise

  A knock at the door startles me. My wardrobe had already been swapped out during the feast and I just manage to pull on one of my new white nightgowns before the door swings open and the leopards are ushered into my room. Damien is standing in the doorway, flanked by two of my father’s guards, overseeing the handler as he chains the leopards to the opposite side of the room. A bowl of water is laid out along with a platter of table scraps. As soon as everything is in place, the handler rushes from the room.

  Damien looks over at me, his eyes wandering over my body. I am abruptly aware of my nipples beginning to give shape beneath my gown and throw my arms around myself in an effort to maintain decency.

  “Good night, Annalise.” He grins, his eyes flashing green as he turns on his heel, but then he stops. He notices the lilac gown I had been wearing earlier and snaps his fingers. He nods his head toward it as the handler once again rushes in and snatches it from my bed. Damien gives me one last glance before exiting the room, slamming the door behind him. I hear a key turn in the lock.

  I’m trapped. A prisoner in my own home. Alone in a room with three gigantic leopards. Oddly enough, I feel far more comfortable alone with them than I do with Damien in a room full of people. I sit on my bed and hug my knees to my chest as I watch my new pets eat their dinner. They occasionally look over at me, but not for more than a moment, and never all at once. I wonder what they’re thinking.

  “I bet you wish you could escape too,” I say, and they all look up at me as if they know I am speaking to them. I laugh, sure they were just surprised to hear me speak. One of them grabs at a piece of scrap meat but accidentally swats it just out of reach. I watch as he begins to strain against his collar and start to worry as I see small trickles of blood stain his white coat.

  “Wait,” I say, “let me help you.”

  I carefully climb off the bed and make my way over to them. They’re all watching me intently now, and I start to wonder if I have a death wish. I’m not sure if Damien meant for them to scare me or if they’ve really been trained as pets.

  Reaching down, I pick up the scrap of meat and hold it out to toward the leopards, closing my eyes and praying they won't take my hand with it, but even after a minute of standing like this none of them have moved to take it.

  I look at them in bewilderment. Unsure of what to do next, I sit on the floor and watch them right back. I know they can’t quite reach me from here, but the idea of being mere feet away from these creatures is thrilling.

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you,” I say tossing the meat toward them and watching as the green-eyed leopard snaps it up. “I’ve never had so much as a kitten my entire life.”

  The violet-eyed leopard lets out a low growl.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to liken you to kittens. I’m sure you could kill me in an instant if you wanted to. I just…I just mean I don’t know how best to take care of you.”

  The blue-eyed leopard tugs at his collar, and my heart aches for them. At least I’m not forced to wear a collar and chains. Not yet.

  I edge closer to them without thinking. They continue to watch me curiously but make no move to hurt me. My hand reaches out without me telling it to and I gently brush the face of the violet-eyed leopard. His fur is softer than anything I’ve ever touched. My fingers press deeper in, caressing his face as I look up into his eyes. For a split second, it’s not a leopard I’m pressing my hand to, but a man.

  Startled, my hand shoots back to my side, the sudden movement causing the leopards to move back toward the wall.

  Great, I’ve startled them. “Sorry,” I say, unsure of how to proceed. I want them to trust me. I want to help them.

  “We’ll all get out of this together, I promise, but you have to trust me,” I say, trying to reassure myself as much as them.

  I stand and slowly make my way toward them again. Even sitting, the leopards are taller than me, and I’m sure far heavier. They could probably crush me with a single paw. At this point, I’m not sure it would be an altogether unwelcome death. At least I’d be free from my engagement.

  I’m now standing well within the limits of their shackles, and they have moved to encircle me, but I am surprised that I feel no fear.

  They are beautiful. The moon has come up, streaming through my windows and highlighting the backs of their snowy fur, forming a glowing halo around each of them. Their eyes seem to twinkle with magic, and as I look into the eyes of each one, my heart nearly jumps out of my chest.

  Where a moment before I was encircled by three giant leopards, now there are no leopards, but three even more enormous men.

  One with eyes like amethysts.

  One with eyes of sapphire.

  And one with eyes of emerald.

  My back aches as I wake, the surface below me hard as rock. I peek through my lashes as I open my eyes and find myself surrounded by three large beasts, not men.

  I must have fallen asleep on the floor, which would account for why my dreams had been so strange.

  The door opens and a woman I’ve never seen before walks in. She’s wearing a simple dress and a bejeweled collar, not entirely unlike the ones my pets have. Noticing that I’m lying on the floor, she rushes over and helps me to my feet, brushing off a rather large amount of fur from my dressing gown.

  “Good morning,” I say as I stretch my arms, my back and neck cracking from my sleeping position last night.

  She doesn’t say anything in return, and I realize she may not speak my language.

  “Good morning,” I try again, this time in Damien’s native tongue.

  Her eyes flicker to my face in a way that confirms she can understand me, but she doesn’t respond once again. My heart sinks as I begin to grasp what Damien’s done.

  He’s completely isolated me. He’s removed all familiarity and left me with no one to talk to.

  Even my wardrobe has been changed. I eye the dress my new chambermaid has pulled from the closet. It’s daring, perhaps even more so than the dress I donned yesterday, but just as he had demanded it’s all white. Almost blindingly so. I have no idea how I’ll manage to keep it that way.

  The chambermaid walks over to me and motions for me to remove my nightgown. I loathe being naked in front of the mirror, let alone anyone else. Not that I think my body is anything to be ashamed of. It’s just not in my nature to enjoy being naked. My eyes flicker over to the leopards, although I’m not sure why I worry about them seeing me undressed. They are only animals, after all.

  But the leopards haven’t shifted from their sleeping positions, their bodies slowly moving in the rhythm of sleep. I sigh, probably best to just get this over with as quickly as possible.

&
nbsp; I pull the nightgown over my head and cover my nudity as best I can as I step into the gown.

  Thankfully, my new maid seems to know what she’s doing and has the dress up and covering me in a moment. I breathe a sigh of relief.

  Strange to think something as simple as a piece of fabric can feel like armor. It is only then that I realize that is all that is between me and my surroundings, one thin piece of fabric…not even a chemise to act as a barrier between my skin and outer garments. I make my way over to my mirror and look.

  The material is exceptionally silky, with delicate, nearly invisible beadwork on every inch. It’s perhaps the loveliest material I’ve ever laid eyes on, but it caresses my skin and laps at my body in ways that send shivers along my spine, among other places. A simple movement of my arm and my breasts have begun to peak. I’m mortified as I see their shape change in the mirror.

  Damien has dressed me in as little as he can manage. Unless the dress had been see-through, I can’t imagine a dress much worse than this.

  I notice my chambermaid in the mirror standing behind me. Her eyes are lowered, but I can still see a sad pain in them. It frightens me. The more I see of Lord Godfrey’s servants, gifts, and behavior, the more I worry about what his true nature is.

  If I’m scared now, only one day after meeting him, what will our marriage be like? I shudder.

  “Can I at least know your name,” I ask in what I believe to be her native tongue, turning to look at her. “It would help me…command you.”

  I hate that word, command, but I can think of no other way that she might give me an answer.

  “Miriam,” she quietly replies, her eyes lighting up ever so little.

  I wonder when the last time someone asked her to use her name. There are heavy footsteps approaching in the hall and Miriam frantically motions me toward my vanity. I rush to sit, not wanting to get her in trouble, while she begins work on my hair. She pulls a soft, silver beaded cap and a long piece of white fabric from a box I hadn’t noticed before.

  Miriam starts braiding my hair tightly against my head, or as tightly as she can manage. Unlike Rosa, she hasn’t grown to understand the unruly nature of my golden tresses and I can tell she’s struggling.

  The footsteps in the hall have stopped outside my door. There’s a loud knock, and a moment later the door swings open, once again revealing my betrothed flanked by guards. I’m thankful that men aren’t allowed within this wing of the castle until at least an hour after the sun has risen. Even the guards have to wait outside the various entrances to this wing through the night.

  “Ah,” Damien says, “I see you are not ready. I’ll make note of your tardiness and expect that you shall do better tomorrow.”

  He snaps his fingers and Miriam hastens to finish my hair as quickly as she can. Once the braids are done, she wraps them around my head, pinning them in place. The white fabric is then tied into place, tightly covering my hair in its entirety before the silver cap is fixed over it, firmly keeping everything in place. She moves to take a rose petal from the dressing table, crushing it in her hands.

  “No,” Damien says, and she stops just before she’s about to brush it across my cheeks.

  Damien has been sitting on the edge of my bed. I pray he doesn’t notice it hasn’t been slept in. I’m sure it’s just the sort of thing that would bother him.

  “I prefer my women natural,” he continues. “She’s ready to go. Do not forget to freshen the bed with herbs.”

  Miriam bows her head and moves to replace my bedding, and I’m thankful she doesn’t say anything about the state she found me in this morning.

  “Come,” Damien says, motioning toward the leopards, “and bring them with you.”

  I don’t move, unsure of what I’m supposed to do next. He doesn’t snap his fingers, and no handler has come with him.

  “Do as I say, Annalise,” he growls, his black eyes glistening like cauldrons of tar as he hands me a key. “I need to know you can handle them as they will be far easier to handle than I if you dare to anger me.”

  My heart races and I bite my tongue, drawing blood, although I don’t think my mouth would open even if I tried to talk back.

  I turn to face the leopards and find them awake and sitting up, their heads all cocked to the side. It’s rather endearing, and I can’t help but want to snuggle them, even as monstrous as they are. I slowly make my way toward them, the dress slithering around me as I walk. Their heads shift to the other side as though curious to see what I’m about to do. To my surprise, they move to make way for me as I reach to unfasten the chain with the key Damien gave me.

  The chains are heavy and they slip from my fingers, clattering to the floor.

  There’s a laugh behind me and I swing around to see Damien, eyes flashing green, grinning at me.

  “Fool of a handler. The chains will be switched out at once.” His eyes once again go black. “No matter.”

  In three large strides, he has moved me aside and taken up all three chains in his large hands.

  A sound at the door turns our heads. It’s one of my father’s messengers who bows low.

  “The king has requested your presence, Lord Godfrey,” he says.

  “Very well, we shall be along in a moment.”

  “Pardon me, My Lord, but I believe he wishes to see you alone.”

  Damien glares at him. “We shall be along in a moment,” he says again darkly.

  The messenger’s eyes widen before he quickly bows once again. “Yes, of course. As you wish, My Lord.”

  Fastening the chains once again to the wall, Damien takes the key from me before striding to the door. I don’t move.

  Barely turning his head, Damien snaps, “Come.”

  I don’t want to go, but my legs don’t listen, and within moments I’m beside him. He extends an arm, and I take it, but my stomach twists as I do, and I hear the leopards start to pace behind me, chains scraping the floor as if they, too, know I shouldn’t go.

  As we step out into the hall, my bedroom door locked behind us. I notice that Damien keeps the key.

  My stomach grows ever tighter and more painful as we make our way to my father.

  Six

  Annalise

  I’m surprised when we find my father moving about his chambers. He looks almost like his old self again. Even his eyes look clearer.

  “Papa,” I say before I remember I’m still furious with him, “how are you feeling?”

  The king turns, seeming surprised to see me, but composes himself as he looks at Damien.

  “Far better, daughter,” he says, “I actually have Damien to thank for that. It seems he has had some fine training in the art of alchemy. He’s given me several potions for various ailments in the past, but I’ve never been quite so ill as in the recent weeks.”

  I glance up at Damien in astonishment, but he doesn’t turn his face to meet mine. He towers over me and I can’t make out the expression on his face from this angle. Perhaps my loathing of the engagement has soured me toward him before I’ve truly given him a chance.

  “It was nothing,” Damien says, “I only wish to serve.”

  He bows deeply, although somehow his bowed self is still taller than me. His hair falls lazily over his face and he sweeps it back as he straightens again.

  “I suppose you wouldn’t mind telling me a little more about the concoction you prepared last night,” my father says.

  “Certainly,” Damien replies, his voice calm and steady. “It’s quite simple really. I merely prepared my own version of St. Paul’s potion but with a touch of magic.”

  “Magic,” the king says with a laugh as he makes his way back to bed. “It has certainly brought me to high spirits, but there’s more I’d like to discuss. I have to admit, I had hoped to discuss something with you that I’d prefer Annalise not to be part of at present.”

  Damien frowns as he looks down at me, and I sense he doesn’t want to let me out of his sight.

  “She’ll stay
,” he finally says.

  “Very well, as you wish,” father says, clearing his throat. “I was hoping to discuss the wedding date with you. Now that I am feeling more like myself, I have had a chance to think more deeply about this union.”

  Damien’s nostrils flare.

  “I accept that it’s rather sentimental,” father continues, “but my late wife had always wished Annalise would someday be married in the vineyards, at the time of harvest. I know we had originally agreed that the wedding would be held within three weeks of your arrival, but would it really be so bad to wait another month or two to wed?”

  I’m frozen, my heart pounding in my chest. Is he really going to give me a little more time before the wedding? Damien lets out a snort but says nothing.

  Father hurries to continue his argument for waiting, “It would give you two more time to get to know each other. Perhaps you may even grow to love each other before the wedding, as I did my own wife.”

  He nearly mumbles the last part. It’s the first time in ten years my father has spoken of my mother of his own accord. I think I understand now why he didn’t want me here in the first place. It puts a great deal of pressure on both of them to make the right decision while I’m here to listen.

  “Besides, there are several important matters I need to attend to, and a wedding would be a bit of a burden at the moment.”

  Ah. There it is. He doesn’t really care about the wedding being pushed off. It’s just not convenient. I wonder how Mother could have ever been happy with this man…was she? I gasp in pain.

  Damien’s arm is clenched to his body, nearly crushing mine in the process. The tension in the room is as thick as a poorly made porridge as we wait to hear Damien’s response.

  After what feels like an eternity he growls, “So be it.”

  I suck in air, unaware that I had stopped breathing.

  “Superb,” the king says with a sigh of relief.

 

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