Page 26

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Of course. I can do two things at once, look out this window and listen to you. Go on, the second brother just died. What happened next?”

Brandth squinted, was that Perri? No, just Lady Parkour’s second youngest sister returning from a day of shopping, trailed by two servants heavily laden with parcels. The sun was going down. Where the hell was Perri? He’d watched her head off earlier in the day with the mute lad, Deacon, and a boy with a limp, whose hair glinted like fire in the sunlight just like Perri’s. Her son? Just what was she up to?

“Our conversation was interrupted at that point. In order to resume it Alia had to win the archery competition, doing so in record time no less. Which meant she could join me on the trophy podium where we waited together for the remaining bridal candidates to finish.”

There was something in Talac’s tone. Enough to make Brandth glance his way quickly before returning his gaze to the main throughfare leading from the Palace to the adjacent city of Pallene. A trace of smugness? No, pride. He was impressed with Alia’s skills.

“And?”

“Six arrows, six bullseyes.”

“Not the competition, the angelic bastard’s history, what more do we know?”

“Oh. Between the strict tutor and his father, it appears Regal buckled under. No more deaths. No more aged pet hounds disappearing. A sister or two leaving to be married. Turning twenty, Regal declared his love for Perri, and promptly married her on her seventeenth birthday. Within a year they welcomed their first child, a boy. Father said to be overjoyed. But so very respectful of his wife now, that he insisted they have separate rooms. Perri assumed this was normal. Her husband whilst a little distant from the child in private, played the proud papa in public. Proclaiming for all to hear that he was the luckiest man alive to be so blessed. All the while showering Perri with compliments and professing his devotion to her. In hindsight, she realises he was twisting those compliments. Making little digs in the guise of jokes about her post-baby figure, her appearance, the amount of affection she showered on the child rather than him. Perri proceeded to work doubly hard at showing Regal she loved him. Making his clothes for him personally. Overseeing his bath. Wearing only colours he liked. Requesting foods be made that only he liked.”

“He was boxing her in. Making her second guess everything. Was he violent?”

“Not at all. But from what Alia intimated he visited Perri’s chamber less and less, ensuring via sly words that the reason for their distance lay somehow at Perri’s feet. She was turning herself inside out trying to please him, yet he never came outright and faulted her. But nor did he ever seem happy with Perri’s actions or words.”

“Get to the meat of the matter, I sense you’re stalling.”

“As a new mother Perri had no time for visiting her kin. Alia sensed from her letters that Perri was a little depressed. So she decided to visit, to help celebrate the child’s second birthday. At first, everything appeared normal. Regal doted upon his wife and child. Perri appeared a little fatigued and harried, but nothing untoward for a mother of an active toddler. Regal claiming that seeing the sisters together made him realise how neglectful he had become of his own family, his brothers. Requesting Perri arrange a picnic for the Soutner males on a nearby cliffside. Food, drinks, games and prizes.”

“And when the big day arrived?”

“Perri and Alia were out for a gentle horse ride with the child. Thinking to surprise Regal with a welcome visit, they headed towards the designated picnic area.”

Brandth turned his entire attention to Talac, his friend’s demeanour nothing but grim, warning him he wasn’t going to like what he heard next.

“The tableau looked nothing but normal as they approached. A wagon full of food and wine attended by two servants. Regal’s six remaining brothers armed with crossbolts hitting practise targets set up on a nearby grassy area. Their host leaning against the trunk of an old oak tree off to the side, enjoying the shade, quaffing mead. The smell of ripe honey thick in the air was Alia’s first warning that something was terribly wrong. She advised Perri they should turn back, that there must be a hive somewhere nearby. But Perri insisted they warn Regal.”

“Gods.”

“The two gryfalcons dropped from the sky, with the sun behind them. One brother was just gone. Screaming, gripped in the talons of the male of the mated pair who promptly flew off, probably to feed their youngsters. The female, even bigger than the male, flew low over the field. Knocking one brother sprawling. Nipping one of the servants almost in half with her beak. Pandemonium. Alia determined to follow Perri. Remember, this was ten years ago, she wasn’t the Beast then, just a girl who loved her sister. Everyone was scrambling, frantic, but with no real cover available except for a few trees. What struck Alia though. With the Soutner brothers scrabbling to save themselves… and each other, was Regal. How he just stood under that oak tree and did nothing. She assumed he was frozen in fear. But Alia didn’t have that luxury, as the gryfalcon came around for another run. This time the bird managed to get one of the brothers, stabbing him in the back with her beak. The wash of her wings was like being in a hurricane, Perri and the child swept off their horse, and a good thing too, as the gyrfalcon’s claws ripped it from throat to rump three seconds later. Perri lost hold of the boy following their fall. When she looked up the child was running towards the oak tree, towards his father. Yet Regal made no move to fetch him, in fact, he seemed wielded in place. The gryfalcon settled on the ground, blocking the way, the child now running straight for it. Perri finally catching up, in time to push the child back and away, taking a swipe of the creature’s claws. Flung aside, rolling down a small incline, leaving the child alone to face the giant bird. It heaved itself skywards, claws coming for the baby, but Alia was there, batting them away with a stick she’d picked up from the ground. Too brittle and insignificant the weapon was torn asunder, as was Alia by the creature’s raking claw. Somehow it managed to scoop up the child.”

“Cruddy hell.”

“Alia had all but landed on a discarded crossbolt, coughing up blood, barely able to breath, she raised it and took aim as the creature left the ground, the baby clutched in its claws screaming its head off in terror. She said she’d never prayed harder, and perhaps the Deities above were finally listening that day. For the bolt took the gryfalcon in the eye. It released the child, but the fall was high, she heard bones break when he hit the ground but couldn’t move to go look.”

“That is not the end of the tale.”

Brandth insisted, perhaps a little more adamant than was prudent. Given who he was speaking to, but Talac took no offence.

“The account now is second hand, what Perri told Alia occurred. Injured, the female gryfalcon flew away. Leaving behind destruction, death, and so much blood. Perri looked to her husband, who finally began moving, somehow managing to capture the reins of Alia’s abandoned horse. She assumed he was coming to her aid. Yet as he rode near, he didn’t slow down. Regal’s expression instead astonishingly flat, except for a brief flicker of disdain when his eyes met hers for a mere moment as he rode on by. He was going to help their son first, Perri understood. But after he passed by, an acrid smell assaulted her nostrils, reminiscent of the spray the Lair used to discourage the gryfalcons. Regal reeked of it. And it hit her. The honey. Regal had lured the gryfalcons to this place. And under the oak tree, remaining unmoving and smelling like he did, Regal had been the safest of them all.”

“What did the bastard do next?”

“He took the child and rode for the manse… to raise the alarm. Perri panicked. Suddenly all the times she’d caught a glimpse of something… other flicker for an infinitesimal moment in Regal’s eyes assailed her. She was badly injured, her sister worse… and those Soutner brothers’ still alive, worse still. Even if they were fetched, the Gloomenthrall sisters would be low on the Soutner Medic’s list. Perri decided in that moment that she and Alia needed to get to the Lair. The wagon carrying the picnic supplies had been anchored, the horses unable to break free. Perri commandeered the wagon, and somehow got Alia into the back.”

“How did they survive a day’s journey in their condition, reeking of blood?”

“They met a very capable mute boy on the road, headed to the Lair in pilgrimage. There was an unused jar of honey in the wagon. It was his idea to pour it on their wounds, to hopefully stick the skin back together and stop the bleeding.”

“The honey saved them? Please don’t tell me they were attacked again by the gryfalcons?”

“No. Luckily the narrow roads of the woods prevented the birds from being able to do much but circle overhead, following them. When they drew closer, they were able to signal the Lair that they were incoming, a band of fighters riding out to bring them in to safety.”

“Cruddy hell.”

Brandth slumped against the nearest wall.

“Rumours spread. Of the four Soutner brothers that survived that day, one succumbed to his injuries within a month. Another took his own life two years later. Whilst a third suffered from debilitating nerves and night terrors. And then there was Regal. Golden, shiny, perfect, a man who’d even managed to save his son, snatching it from the claws of the creature personally. Or so the story he told went. But it seems his father was a suspicious man. He gathered his grandsons close, had them guarded. And promptly put Regal on a boat, sending him away to the secure and strengthen the Soutner trading interests in far off lands.”

“He banished him?”

“Effectively. But according to Alia the old Baron died of old age a short while ago, and his heir, a na?ve lad, sent word for his uncle to come home, advising Regal would be welcomed there. Within three short months the young Baron was dead, along with his siblings, and a male cousin or two.”

“All hail Baron Regal Soutner.”

Brandth spat in distaste.

“But what about Perri, his wife? He never came to fetch her?”

“He never even enquired if she and Alia had survived and made it to the Lair. The Gloomenthralls cut all ties with the Soutners after that day on the cliff. They tried to get word of the child, but Regal took him into exile.”

“So, he just abandons her? His wife? She’s so insignificant he doesn’t even care if Perri’s alive or dead? That’s chilling.”

“I would imagine he thought she would only be a burden if she were to accompany him into exile. Besides, much easier for him to play the single mourning widower role, prey on the sympathy of others. Perhaps in Regal’s mind, after a time, that role began to seem real.”

“They’re isolated in those woods, maybe he thought she’d sequestered herself away for good, and that he was effectively clear and free. Cruddy hell. That bastard needs to die!”

“I agree whole heartedly, but Brandth, you know we’re hamstrung here.”

“Yes, damn it. Perri would never forgive me if I over stepped and took this away from her.”

“And I’m just as sure Alia would grab a sword, and carve out her anger on my flesh if I was to interfere in their schemes.”

“I don’t like how this feels. Being relegated to the side lines.”

“Hold on.”

Talac’s eyes brightened as an idea came to him.

“Who says we must just sit idly by? We’re not allowed to kill him, but there’s an awful lot of things to do to a man before you tear his heart out.”

“Where are you going?”

“To speak to the housekeeper, I fear there’s an issue with Soutner’s accommodation. Then I shall track down the head steward, and have a word in her ear regarding who should be seated next to the Baron when we have formal meals.”

“Talac…”

Brandth was unsure whether he should say anything.

“Before you go. I’d like to enquire of your… intentions when it comes to Alia.”

“My intentions? What’s brought this on?”

“People are talking… you spend more time conversing with her than any other candidate. She’s enough of a target already… I just ask that you factor that information in when it comes to your interactions with her.”

“People should mind their own business.”

“You’re the Prince, you are their business.”

Brandth didn’t like saying it out loud, and by the way Talac clenched his jaw, he didn’t like being reminded of his duty and responsibilities.

“I admire her, that’s all.”

Even to his own ears Talac knew the words sounded weak and was unsurprised when Brandth laughed in response.

“Fine. I desire her.”

It felt decidedly freeing to say the words out loud.

“You would make her Queen?”

“There is a vast distance between desire and wedding vows. She’s a rare woman, Brandth. All the things that should make her so very wrong, I find compelling. Her independence. Strength. Skills. A self-belief that in others I’m sure I would find arrogant, but in Alia, I find it admirable.”

“I think you captivated that she treats you like a man.”

“Yes.”

Talac had to acknowledge, his friend had distilled his attraction to Alia down to a very salient point.

“That goes a long way in her favour.”

“If we were out on the road, Captain Talac could have acted on such an attraction. But here, at the Palace, you have no such luxury. No, don’t even try to argue the point. You are His Highness: Prince Zariffe Talac Bausum Vallas… the fourteenth. If you dally with Alia, and that news got out, she and Gloomenthrall… all of her copious female kin… they would all be tarred by that brush.”

Grey eyes blazing for just a moment before Talac banked away the heat. Brandth’s words were unwelcome, but unfortunately a necessary reminder. From the cradle he’d been raised to be selfless, the King’s man, never his own. A tool. Whether that be providing a shining example by rising through the military ranks. Acting the covert master spy. Or donning the sash and medals here at the Palace, and presenting nothing but a haughty expression to the aristos.

He had learnt very early in life that fate could not be changed. Talac was heir to the Vallas Realm. And by default, he had less freedom than many an imprisoned man. He’d prayed for siblings growing up, to lighten the load. It was not to be. But he would give it all up for just one night to be a mere man, flirting and dallying with a woman such as Alia. He’d dance, drink, and make merry, then he’d lead her to a secluded room and make love to her until an hour before dawn. Before hustling back to his chambers, the Prince would need to awaken in his own bed, alone.

Instead, Talac had to act detached, and above reproach, showing no favouritism. Forced to watch Alia from afar. He couldn’t even dance with the woman unless he danced with every single candidate. Cruddy Hell, what he wouldn’t give to be a normal man… for one night… no heir mantle, no need for the Princely mask… mask!

The masked ball tomorrow night. Dare he take one night for himself? How could he not?

“I’m unsure I like that look in your eyes.”

Brandth contemplated his friend.

“You’re planning something, aren’t you? No. Don’t tell me. I have my own plans to put into action.”

Glancing out the window Brandth had just spotted Perri’s fiery locks, glinting under the last of the setting sun’s rays as she and her two companions returned from the direction of the adjacent township.

Brandth had a prickly woman to pursue. He knew Perri had a lot on her plate. An abominable murderous estranged husband to send off to the nine circles of hell. And a long lost son to try and reconnect with. But he didn’t want her to forget about him. And it was well past time he reminded her that she hadn’t yet given a response to his invitation to engage in an encounter of the intimate kind.

* * *

Perri’s knees gave way. Luckily, Alia’s bed was there to catch her, several packages she’d been holding thumping to the floor. Gods, give her strength. Blinking back tears that threatened to fall, unsure whether they were the result of joy or terror. Perhaps both.

She’d just sent Levi away… and it had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. He and Deacon were headed to the stables, where they would join Molbee, the stablemaster, for an early dinner. Perri had also discreetly signed to Deacon that he show Levi a safe place to sleep at the stables. Anywhere was preferable than the idea of sending him back to his father.

The day had gone surprisingly smoothly as Levi had slowly shed his wariness of her and Deacon when Perri, acting the fine lady, had done nothing but feed him and expect him to carry a few packages. Giving him several coins when they arrived back at the Palace before promptly dismissing him. With payment for services rendered in hand, Levi had gifted her the sweetest smile, it made Perri’s heart ache.

She hated sending him away but there was always tomorrow of course, when she would see him again. Promising Levi further coin if he were to help her run more errands in preparation for the masked ball.

The knock at the chamber door had her frowning. Perhaps the boys had run into trouble and were back. That had her launching herself off the bed to fling open the door. “You!”

“Eagerness combined with a hefty dose of disdain. You have a unique way of flirting with a man, Lady Perri.”

Brandth lurched forward, forcing Perri to step back.

“Best to let me in before anyone sees me.”

“You can’t be here.”

Perri all but hissed.

“I can as long as no one sees me coming or going.”

Swiftly closing the door behind him.

Perri backed up until her legs were resting against Alia’s bed. Do not think about the bed. Heavens, and certainly don’t think about how the two of them were alone. Nor how good Brandth looked.

It was difficult for Perri to shift mental gears, but the sight of him standing there ignited a spark of heat deep within her. Honey brown eyes sparkling with humour, a half smile clinging to his lips, his gold satin coat fitted expertly to his frame highlighting his lean muscular build.

“Where are your crutches?”

“The steel boot is enough on its own now. You look like you had productive day.”

His gaze skimming over the strewn parcels.

“This is only the extraneous, our costumes and masks won’t be ready until later tomorrow. I don’t know why they had to send us all into a frenzy announcing a last minute masked ball.”

“I would lay money on the Queen. Royal functions rarely go off as planned, she likes to test the candidates and their ability to cope with the unexpected. Now, how did today go… with Levi?”

The bark of laughter that escaped Perri was unplanned.

“Equal parts torturous and heavenly.”

“Does he know who you are?”

“No. He didn’t appear to recognise my name. Perhaps he’s never enquired about his mother before, or more likely Regal has withheld the information. At least I got to spend the day with him. I don’t think he gets enough to eat. And his clothes and the state of his hair are horrendous. The very least I could do was feed him. But I dare not offer him a new wardrobe or anything of real value. Either Regal or his servants might notice.”

“You did manage one small change though.”

Perri smothered a gasp… how? Heavens, she was forgetting Lord De’Luca was one of the King’s master spies. Seeing all. Knowing all.

“I acted the entitled snooty lady when I was introduced to a shoemaker. Luckily he was in on the deception when I demanded proof of his skills. All he did was add new soles to Levi’s decrepit shoes, along with several uppers in one of them, to even out his gait. It won’t cure his shortened leg, but it should lessen his pain and keep his hips and spine from contorting as he grows taller.”

“And Regal won’t notice?”

“He might. But I blithely suggested Levi inform anyone who makes mention of it that he hint that he is healing.”

“You sound frustrated.”

“It’s only a stop gap. He’s about to enter a critical growth period. It’s essential that he have proper footwear to even his legs, or his limp will only worsen later in life, along with the potential for him to develop a myriad of other problems.”

“He doesn’t know how lucky he is, to have such a fierce protective angel watching over him.”

Brandth almost sounded… jealous. No, she must just be overtired. It had been a very long day.

“Oh, how did Alia do at the talent exhibition?”

“I was not foolish enough to attend, but I heard she displayed admirable knife throwing skills. No blood spilled.”

“That’s a relief. Following the archery competition, I believe the rest of today was deemed free time, no doubt she’s at the stable seeing to Domino. Well, thank you for… dropping by, Lord De’Luca.”

Perri gestured to the door.

“Lord De’Luca? It appears I’m falling ever lower in your estimation.”

Untrue. But it was a good reminder that his standing as future Baron De’Luca was so very far above her own station. Perri could claim the title of lady. But that didn’t make her one. She was a healer. A soon-to-be widow. A mother. Perri’s thoughts so distracting she wasn’t aware Brandth had reached for her until his strong warm hand encased hers.

“My aim in visiting you was two-fold. To check on you. And to ensure that you’re still contemplating my invitation.”

Gulp. That wasn’t a dream? Or some silly tease on his part? That little spark of heat low in Perri’s body doubled in size.

“Invitation?”

“For the two of us to come together.”

Brandth drifted closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

“For a sinful… fun… dalliance.”

He was so close now, Perri could feel his heated breath against her ear.

Darnation. Her knees were weak once more. Her body clamouring, far too happy at the idea of giving in to temptation and indulging in some illicit mayhem. Great-Aunt Mary would thoroughly approve of the idea no doubt.

Thankfully, the idea of baring all was like a bucket of cold water, waking up her common sense. Take off her veil? Allow Brandth to see her scars? Watch the sight of them douse the flame of attraction in his eyes? Replacing it with horror?

“I don’t require an answer right at this moment.”

Brandth turned his head slightly, planting the softest of kisses just beneath her ear, at the very edge of the scarf. Oh my. Perri’s spine all but turned to liquid in sympathy with her knees.

“Just remember, sweet harridan, that all cats look black in the darkness.”

Then he was gone. Leaving Perri once more free to collapse down upon the edge of the bed. All the while Brandth’s whispered last words whirling in a frenzy around in her head. His argument had just gotten an awful lot stronger… and oh so tempting, she ached.

Could she? Dare she?

She was a woman overly familiar with regret. Mistrust, caution and moderation had become Perri’s watch words for a decade now. But here she was, the possibility of closing that chapter of her life within her grasp. Regal punished. Levi safe and secure.

There should be a celebration for such an achievement. A parade. Fireworks. A night of illicit mayhem in the dark with a man who made her womanly bits ache with longing.

Perri was so tired of regret. And she didn’t want to add not taking up Brandth De’Luca on his offer to the mountainous pile. Good heavens, was she going to do this? Fireworks? Every woman deserved them at least once in her life. Heavens, yes, Perri Gloomenthrall Soutner was about to claim her turn.

She would have to carefully orchestrate the setting. Determinedly shutting down the clamouring voice of common sense that tugged at her subconscious. Nope, too late for all those arguments. For once she was going into a situation with her eyes wide open… if she was going to be plagued with regrets, then better to suffer them for taking a path of her own choosing for once. Bring on the illicit mayhem… for a night.

And really, what could possibly go wrong if she were to indulge in one night of passion with a man such as Brandth De’Luca?

Grrr, shut up common sense, you had your chance.