Page 15

The sound of familiar footsteps had Brandth’s head whipping around so fast he almost gave himself neck strain. Finally. He’d been waiting all day for Perri to start her shift. He had questions, lots and lots of questions. Although the one that spilled from his lips had not been one he intended to ask.

“What are you wearing?”

His gaze, no longer covered by a blindfold, drank in deeply all the details of her appearance.

“My healer’s uniform.”

The tone was nothing but polite as Perri gestured to the long grey gown and large black apron she wore over it.

“Not the dress, woman. That. Why do you have that thing covering your face?”

The dove grey scarf was pinned to the high collar of her gown and to a small cap she wore covering red hair that glinted sparks of fire thanks to the nearby lantern light. The heavy rope of it plaited back, the thick tail falling almost to her waist.

“Is someone in here contagious? If so, I want one too.”

“No one in here is contagious.”

“Then why are you wearing such an encumbrance?”

Perri issued a terse sigh, Brandth thinking he was about to be blasted by waspish words. Instead, she took a deep breath, which drew his attention momentarily downwards. Hhmmm, nice full breasts, he remembered the feel of them pressed against his chest.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said that my reasons for the veil are personal ones.”

The tone polite, the words soft and measured.

“You’re… you’re not a nun or anything, are you?”

Brandth liked nuns on the whole, most he found displayed an admirable sense of humour. But the idea of Perri being one. That for some reason made him equal parts angry and strangely bereft.

“I have taken no vows other than those required of healers. Now, how was your day?”

Her hand resting lightly on his forehead for a moment.

“The fever feels completely gone. That’s good. Did you sleep today?”

“Did you? I understand I must share my thanks, the orderly who bathed and shaved me this morning told me I spent… the night in your chambers. Yet, I have no memory of such events.”

“That’ll be the fever.”

“As you say. But still, you have my gratitude. I’ve seen patients with fever, I didn’t do or say anything untoward, did I?”

Frustratingly, with that scarf in place, he couldn’t read any expressions on Perri’s face. And why did he keep recalling that day three years ago spent swimming in the clear dark blue waters of the Middle Isles?

“You were restless. But no more so than any other patient. Rest easy, you neither did or said anything that would cause you consternation.”

Her tone and words were nothing but soft, sweet and reassuring… and by the Gods, they annoyed Brandth.

“I must have been quite the burden though if you are commencing work so late in the day.”

“Long sleepless nights are part and parcel of being a healer. I caught up what I lost during the day. But now… dinner? You must be hungry. I shall go fetch you some.”

Brandth watched as Healer Perri strode away, a dark wraith of grey quickly swallowed up by the shadows, only the occasional fiery glint from her hair catching the light to note her passing. All his instincts were… aroused, there was no better term to use. He had no idea what the woman looked like, and yet, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so intrigued by a female.

Just what was she hiding behind that veil and why? A beauty so entrancing she was tired of beating suitors away? She wasn’t shy. And she wasn’t sick. She was a mystery, that’s what she was. And damnation, Brandth loved a good mystery.

All day he’d felt her absence. With nothing to do but lie still and heal, he’d found himself missing their little spats. But now that she’d arrived, Perri appeared determined to keep things strictly professional. He was sure others were appreciative of her soothing gentle delivery… but Brandth found it irritating, false even. Just where had the real Perri gone, and perhaps the more important question, why was she turning over this new leaf? Why now?

Momentarily distracted from this new puzzle as dinner was served. The bowl of rich beef stew could not be faulted. Brandth watching Perri move around the lantern lit chamber whilst he ate. She was acting like a graceful restless ghost. Folding bandages. Righting bed linen. Rearranging the herbs on the nearby potion making table, though the bench did not seem cluttered or in need of attention.

A red fruit pudding finished Brandth’s meal with a sweet flourish that was much appreciated. Unfortunately though, now it was time for the dreaded elixir, pouring himself a fresh glass of water from the table next to his bed in readiness. He would need it to help wash the foulness away. Taking the vial from Perri, Brandth rather manfully downed the nasty stuff… except, it didn’t attack his tongue like a rancid five day dead grutling. Shockingly, it tasted like a mix of mead, honey, a dash of vanilla and distant medicinal notes that could barely be detected. What, in heaven’s name, was going on?

“Well done.”

Perri taking the vial away from him, sounding as if he’d accomplished some great feat.

The mystery of what was going on with Perri deepened. Was she actually being… nice to him? Had someone reprimanded her? Or did she have some evil payback plan hiding up that long tight grey sleeve of hers?

Another thought occurred to Brandth. How far could he play this until he pushed her over the edge?

Over the next hour he had Perri fetch him three cups of tea; the first too hot, the second too bitter. Then he requested another pillow. No, her first offering was too fluffy. The second too hard. The third, he could just tell by looking at it, he advised Perri, that it would surely mat his hair into a terrible tangle.

All the while Perri did as he bid, with a stoic air. Yet he could sense that her patience with him was distinctly thinning. He’d like to say there was a tone in her voice, but no, that remained gentled and sweet. He wondered what that cost her.

Happily, he could tell she was nearing the end of her tether by the way her bosom bounced delightfully as she attempted to suck in deep cleansing calming breaths. Doubly entertaining for Brandth. As if the Gods themselves were rewarding him for endeavouring to unmask this false pretender.

The cracks finally began to show when he requested a new blanket, as the current one, he explained with great detail, was completely the wrong shade of green and made him look bilious. The corners she tucked when she made the exchange were a little tighter than perhaps they needed to be. Her deep breath upon completing the task perhaps closer to a sigh of exasperation than she probably would have liked. Hah, there, there was the real Perri peeking out behind that dreadful serene demeanour she had recently adopted.

“Is there anything else you require, your Lordship?”

Oh, yes, that tone was way too sweet, almost sounding like she was daring Brandth to request one more blessed thing.

“Ah… now that you mention it…”

“What? What is it now? Is the bed too comfortable? Does the moon need to be moved because its light is annoying you? Perhaps the ceiling is too high? Your water too wet? What ridiculous thing could you possibly want now?”

Hah, he’d won. Annihilating that sweet, good, calm exterior to revel the true Perri. And for his reward, well, Brandth would take the sight of her heaving bosom, he was no saint after all. But now to get to the crux of why she’d been trying to play him false.

“Actually… I was going to say I was feeling a tad lonely and would appreciate a little conversation.”

“You…”

More deep breathing followed.

He definitely believed in the power of prayer, along with a lovely heaving bosom.

“You… impossible-”

“Now. Now. Before you say anything you might regret Healer Perri, remember there is something you clearly require of me. And it would be a pity after all your efforts to estrange me. Come, sit. Enough with these charades. Drop these false virtuous airs, and speak plainly with me. Tell me truth, did spending the night alone together ignite a passion in your heart that you can no longer contain? Is this your way of wooing me perchance?”

* * *

Grrr. Perri locked her teeth together, a torrent of words threatening to spill forth. This man… was a conceited, pompous, manipulative, jester. The tea. The pillows. The wrong shade of green blanket. He should count himself lucky to still be alive. The idea of smothering him with a too hard pillow was beyond appealing right now.

Unfortunately, Perri needed him alive. Worse still, she needed Brandth to do her a favour. What had she been thinking? Sagging down onto the nearest chair, Perri fought against a wave of smothering fear and hopelessness. She couldn’t do this one simple thing, she was a failure. Her son’s life hanging in the balance.

Rage and howling fear clamouring at her innards. It was so unfair. She despised feeling helpless. Had worked for a decade to ensure she would never experience that emotion again, and yet here she was. Back where she started. Brought down yet again thanks to a ridiculously handsome man. Who’s every word was questionable. Every motive suspect.

“Perri?”

This was no mocking or jeering evident in Brandth’s tone. If she didn’t know better, she would almost say concern laced that one word, her name. Worse, he reached out and took one of her tightly clenched fists in his large calloused hands. Slowly, carefully, uncurling it. Soothing away the harsh indentations her nails had caused when they dug into her palm.

“Talk to me.”

Again, the words plain, lacking edge, hinting at concern. She couldn’t bring herself to trust in them, or him. She should stick to the plan. Be nice. Spoil Brandth. Gentle him. Trick him.

“I need you to extend the bridal candidate invitation to my sister, Alia.”

Or she could just blurt out her demand.

“Alia?”

Brandth repeated the name. Clearly trying to recall which of her kin she was referring to.

Gods. She’d come this far.

“The Beast.”

Other than the slightest widening of his eyes for a split second, Brandth’s reaction was somewhat heartening. He wasn’t laughing. Or pointing a finger and declaring Perri mad.

“Let me get this straight. The Beast would like to marry the Prince of the Realm?”

Perri was a terrible liar, so she stuck to the truth.

“Alia would very much like to travel to the Golden Palace. Grateful beyond measure to be considered one of the bridal candidates.”

It really would solve all their problems.

“Other than crossing paths during the hunt. During which time I believe I was mostly unconscious, I cannot recall interacting with your sister. Does she have a lot of maidenly attributes that my Prince would value?”

Maidenly attributes? Alia?

“Is she beautiful?”

“I certainly find her so.”

“But you’re her blood kin, her sister. How might others describe her?”

“Um… well, you know she excels at hunting. And… I believe most people might consider her… tall?”

“That certainly helps paint a picture for me. Besides hunting, what are her interests? Does she like poetry? Can she draw? What about needlepoint?”

“Heavens, no.”

“Okay. And other than her… height, does she have any noticeable personal attributes I should be made aware of before I make my decision?”

By the nine circles, Brandth was about to make a decision. Levi’s life hung in the balance.

“Listen, you will never find a fairer, more capable, intelligent, funny candidate than Alia. Not just a good leader, but a protector, a defender. She would never ask more of others than she demands from herself. Alia would be a breath of fresh air at your stodgy Palace.”

“The Royals are not typically big advocates of fresh air, they like tradition and no surprises.”

“The Vallas Realm, no, the Prince, would be lucky to have her take on the role of Queen one day.”

“She sounds quite the unique marvel… but Gloomenthrall is a long way from Pallene and the Golden Palace. The aristos can be quite judgemental of anyone they deem different. Not to mention the King and Queen have very high standards when it comes to the choice of a future daughter-in-law. Further, there is our beyond picky Prince to consider. I just do not think-”

“Please.”

Perri interrupted, she couldn’t bear to hear the word no.

“If no previous candidate has been deemed suitable, perhaps the fault lays with the similarity of the candidates. If they’re all pretty, modest, pleasant and good painters, what makes any of them stand out? I’m not saying Alia will be the Prince’s choice by any measure, but perhaps by showing him such a sharp contrast, one of the other candidates may shine in comparison.”

“You have many pretty, modest, pleasant female kin, some of whom are a dab hand with a brush. Why not push them forward as a candidate? Or yourself for that matter? You sound about the right age. You’re graceful. And I heard you close up that stable hand’s leg wound the other day, so I can’t fault your needlework. Ditch the scarf, and grab a pretty gown, you could be a candidate.”

Her? Her? Perri couldn’t help but laugh at the idea.

“Never, I would loathe the attention. No, I shall be very content with my role as chaperone.”

“You would accompany Alia to Court if she was chosen as a candidate?”

There was something in Brandth’s tone. And the twinkle in his decadent golden brown eyes brightened. Perri badly wanted to know what he was thinking at that precise moment but kept her questions to herself. She had stated her case. He hadn’t said yes, but he hadn’t said no, either.

“Tell you what.”

She stood, surprised to note that she had to disentangle her hand from his. How long had they been holding hands? Heavens, that was potentially embarrassing, thankfully her veil hid the blush that stole into her cheeks.

“Why don’t you sleep on your decision. There’s no need to rush.”

“Except for the fact that if we wish to make the first day of end of summer festivities, then we would have to leave the day after tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

Perri hadn’t considered that.

“And then there are my injuries to consider. Will Master Healer Mary sign off on such a long journey, given my recent fever and the state of my leg?”

Gods, Perri would carry the man on her back if it meant getting them to Pallene and invited to the same aristo parties as Regal and Levi.

“You just rest. Think on what I said. I’ll take care of everything in regards to getting you ready to travel.”

“That is most… kind of you.”

Damn, had she overplayed her hand? She sent up a quick pleading prayer. Watching as Brandth’s eyelids grew heavy, the nightly elixir finally kicking in. She had done her best. Stated their case. Now all Perri could do is pray that Brandth would make the right decision. Was there anything else she could have done? Maybe introduce him to Alia? No, that sounded like a recipe for disaster. Alia was nothing but blunt. Yes, she could just imagine her sister snapping at the first personal question, proceeding instead to hold a knife to Brandth’s throat and demanding he give her the invite.

Perri had sold the idea as best she could. She had little choice but to play up Alia’s sharp differences than the normally chosen candidates. A babe in arms could see Alia was no pretty sweet maiden who dabbled in watercolours and simpered over poetry.

Brandth had yet to say no outright, but she sensed his hesitation.

Perhaps Perri could somehow place obstacles in his way to slow his healing, or delay his release from the hospice. Then she and Alia could race on ahead to the Golden Palace… by the nine circles, what was she thinking? Not only would that be unethical, but Brandth and his master spy entourage would eventually catch up. Having them point an accusing finger and outing her and Alia as imposters would not help their cause.

No, all Perri could do was cross her fingers and hope. Brandth’s eyes lit up when he was up to mischief. She’d seen that as he poked at her earlier with all his never ending demands. Here’s hoping he would be willing to bring a little of that mayhem to the Golden Palace end of season festivities. Even if it was just to amuse himself.

Damn, now Perri was wondering if there was anyone at court with whom Brandth indulged in a little one on one mayhem. Not that it was any of her concern… but she couldn’t help but idly picture what such a woman would be like. Probably flawlessly beautiful for a start. Someone Perri didn’t have a hope of competing with… competing? For Brandth? Heavens, no, she had learned her lesson well. Never again would she be bamboozled by a pretty face, and glib poetic words.

Besides, she had no need of a man in her life, but if she did, no doubt he would be plain, sturdy, dependable, and gruffly sincere with the sparse words he did issue.

Yes, when she was Mary’s age, and the cold began to seep into her bones, Perri was reasonably sure she would be ready to seek out such a man for… companionship. Yet why did the idea of that suddenly sound boring beyond measure? Stress. It was the only answer. A nice calming cup of tea, that’s what Perri needed. Her gaze returning to Brandth, so handsome in repose, her fingers actively itching to brush away the hair teasing his closed lids. Gods, she needed that calming tea, and she needed it now. Perhaps the entire pot.