Page 38

A servant opened an imposing gilt door as Alia approached. She’d been handed a note the moment she left the royal balcony. Instead of joining the aristos for tea and gossip at the wake, Alia had been summoned to the cream salon by the Queen-Dowager, Lady Cecelia.

Just the two of them, alone together. Lady Cecelia’s flint coloured eyes gleaming like those of a predator who’d just witnessed their prey stumble by, bloodied and weak. Hah, Alia would soon disprove her Ladyship of that notion, lifting her chin before bowing slightly, very grateful for Perri’s application of her numbing potion on her injured buttock. Barely registering any pain.

“Your Highness.”

“Oh, I think we’re past all that, call me Lady Cecelia. Do take a seat.”

Proceeding to play hostess, pouring the tea.

“Cream? Sugar? No?”

Pushing across the delicate teacup in Alia’s direction.

“Thank you.”

Alia accepted the cup but made no move to drink from it. After all, no one who died two days ago had boasted about being responsible for trying to poison her at the high tea party.

Lady Cecelia’s lips twitched ever so slightly, as if she’d guessed what Alia was thinking. Damn, the woman was canny and formidable. Which begged the question, why had she summoned Alia for this private little chat?

“What did you think of the funeral procession?”

Polite chit chat first, okay, Alia would oblige.

“I would place it amongst my top three favourite funeral processions.”

“Hah, you’re funny. Good. You’ll need a sense of humour.”

For this talk? Or for some other diabolical thing Lady Cecelia had up her sleeve?

“I’ve never been a fan of these bridal candidate gatherings. But Zari has been dragging his feet when it comes to marrying… too much of his life has been spent running around playing soldier, if you ask me. But my son, the King, insisted upon the competition. Strangely, he does not appear to recall that he himself took an age to meet and marry a suitable woman.”

Um, okay…? Alia could not participate in the conversation as she had no idea where it was leading.

“But I must say, this season has proven most exciting. It reminds me of when my son, Zariffe, first met Ostrellie. High drama indeed. Missing jewels, a dead body… and that mysterious fire.”

“As far as I’m aware there have been no fires, nor has anything gone missing.”

“Oh, but you’ve more than made up for that with the… let me see, seven… no, eight dead bodies. I forgot to include the bard. Although why Baron Soutner would invite a bard to accompany him and his friend on a fishing expedition, I will never know. I’m a novice, but I would have thought music would scare away the fish.”

“I couldn’t say.”

“And how unfortunate that the riverbank gave away beneath the boy… his father diving in to save him, his friend, and all his servants following his example… even the bard. And how ironic that only the boy would manage to drag himself out of the river’s clutches.”

There was pointed silence for a moment, as if Alia was supposed to contribute something to the conversation, but she had already determined that would not be wise and remained close-lipped. Taking a pretend sip of tea instead.

“And that poor boy, an orphan, but then not. Claimed by his mother, who declares him a dual heir title holder. A happy miracle if you would… which would the make the boy your… nephew, it would seem.”

Lady Cecelia’s flint eyes narrowed as Alia continued to do nothing but sit there and listen attentively.

“Personally, I thought the pomp and ceremony of the funeral procession a little much, but I would still place it high on my own personal list, second probably. Although it would take a lot to displace my number one choice… where the coffin fell off the carriage. Unfortunately, the lid had not been secured properly.”

Alia was grateful she was only pretending to sip her tea as she would surely have choked right then. Setting the cup down perhaps a little more forcefully than she intended.

“I wonder if I might enquire as to what reason we are having this little… chat?”

“I don’t frighten you even a little bit, do I?”

The polite mask fell and a canny watchful manipulator pinned Alia with an intrigued expression. A small smile tugging up the edges of her lips.

“No. And you appear equally unimpressed by my reputation.”

“You mean the whole Beast conjecture? I assume there’s some truth to the tale?”

“Perhaps.”

Alia acknowledged.

“Fangs and claws? Should I be afeared for my life?”

In a lightning fast move Alia palmed a knife, held it up and then disappeared it just as fast.

“Of course not.”

Though she smiled, baring her teeth for a split second.

Lady Cecelia laughed in response.

“Funny, intriguing, and deadly… I like you. I think you’ll be very good for him… and good for the Vallas Realm.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t play coy at this late stage. We’re talking about you and my grandson.”

“I thought you favoured Lady Evagene.”

“Please. The moment I smiled fondly at her it was basically the kiss of death for her chances. Zari likes to play master spy and manipulator, trained by his father. But who do you think trained the King? I did. And there’s nothing… nothing a man dislikes more than a woman his family whole heartedly approve of.”

“So now you intend to approve of me? I’ll save you the breath, I have no intention of marrying anyone… let alone Talac.”

“Talac, hmmm? He always did prefer that nickname. Do you know what the requirements are to be Queen of this Realm?”

“Biddable. Quiet. And… docile.”

“Hah! Please. The Queen must have an iron will. Acting as a general, not just in charge of the staff, but all the Realm’s subjects. She must be a master manipulator, flattering the egos of aristos, scholars and diplomats to get them to fall in line with her agenda… without them ever realising it. Even her own husband, son… grandson, must be guided, herded… tricked sometimes into doing what is needed.”

“And you think I would make a suitable Queen?”

“Yes. You lead already, I can tell by the way you hold yourself and the way you approach others. Sizing them up, deciding in an instant whether to intimidate them, instruct them, or order them about.”

“But I don’t wish to be Queen. And I certainly don’t wish to spend my days playing mind games with aristos and snotty men of learning, who think just because they’re male that they’re more intelligent than I.”

“Hah, as if you would put up with their games or their snotty ways. I’m not advising you to act like me… or Ostrellie… I think you’ve been doing well on your own. Beast, you say? I wish I had thought to attach a frightening moniker to my persona when I first stepped onto the throne. It might have proven useful.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t worry, Lady Cecelia, I believe there are a number of monikers people have attached to your personage that make many a person quake in their boots at the thought of dealing with you.”

The Grande Dame burst into hearty laughter. Wiping tears of merriment from her eyes, grinning.

“You’re a delight.”

That grin reminded Alia instantly of Talac.

“As I have said, I do not wish to be Queen, so you can stop with all your plans and plots right now. Besides which, Talac has no wish to marry me… or anyone for that matter. He’s been off loading bridal candidates rather speedily, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Quite. Even now I believe he’s introducing the Letweah triplets at the wake to Miss Delish, Miss Freer and Lady Parkour. Their father is an extremely wealthy tea merchant. The triplets are mildly intelligent, considered handsome, and are set to divide their father’s fortune equally upon his demise. Really, I think my grandson might have missed his calling as a matchmaker.”

“That’s all the candidates accounted for then.”

Alia sighed, because she was relieved it was all over, not because she was worried Talac might have decided at the last moment that one of them might suit him after all.

“Then there were none!”

“No.”

Lady Cecelia’s grin turned into a rather satisfied smug smile.

“Then there was one.”

Staring pointedly at Alia.

“No. He knows my feelings on the subject.”

She’d been very clear, hadn’t she?

A knock sounded on the salon door, once… twice… a signal, as Lady Cecelia abruptly stood up.

“Will you look at the time. I must be off. No, you stay and finish your tea… yes, look at how much is still left in your cup, you must be parched.”

Knowing eyes twinkling in merriment as Lady Cecelia headed for the door, which was already being opened by a footman.

Why was Alia unsurprised to see Talac step forward to fill the frame.

“Grandmere?”

“Zari. I’m running late for my sewing circle, please let me pass.”

Talac looked at his grandmother and then to Alia.

“Is there something you wish to share with me?”

“Lady Alia and I have just been getting to know one another.”

She leaned forward, acting as if she was whispering but her voice rang around the room.

“Highly unsuitable girl. I do not in any way approve.”

Lady Cecelia glanced back at Alia, her expression narrow, pinched and forbidding… then she winked.

Oh, Gods, just what did the scheming old biddy think she was doing?

“As I said, I’m late.”

Reaching over, patting her grandson on the shoulder, again whisper shouting for everyone to hear.

“Do let her down gently.”

Patting him once more before sailing past, the door shutting in her wake, leaving Talac and Alia alone to… say their goodbyes Alia assumed.

By the nine circles of hell. This day had to come eventually, and yet, it still somehow came as a surprise to Alia, it was time to say goodbye. Leave the Golden Palace and Pallene. Leave Talac. Why did sudden dread fill her? Because they had become lovers, no, more than that, friends, and she was going to miss her friend, that was all.

That was all, right?

* * *

“It appears you have won over my grandmother.”

Talac smiled, moving into the room.

“She thinks she’s so wily, with her double bluffs and machinations. She forgets I’ve spent a lifetime watching her antics.”

“Are you okay?”

He’d clearly winced as he took the seat Lady Cecelia had recently vacated.

“It’s nothing. Just took an elbow to the ribs. My former bridal candidates were most eager to meet the Letweah triplets and I was in the way. So, what did you and my grandmother discuss?”

“Nothing much of import. Favourite funeral processions. The fact your parents met thanks to some missing jewellery, several dead bodies and a fire.”

“Bodies? As in plural? Seems my mother is still leaving a few finer details out of her re-telling. I spoke with my parents this morning. Advised them I was done with the yearly bridal candidate competition.”

“How did they take the news?”

“Surprisingly calmly.”

That familiar twinkle glittered in Talac’s eyes, he was finding something vastly amusing.

Alia hadn’t had much of a chance to speak to him after the incident at the riverbank. They had rushed back upstream and thrown all the bodies into the water. Working fast and efficiently together as if they had done that kind of thing a hundred times before. Which Alia found strangely comforting and weirdly… erotic.

Then, whilst Alia helped Perri get Brandth and Deacon back to the Palace discreetly. Talac had gone to raise the alarm, carrying a dazed but compliant Levi. Who helped sell the tale of his falling in the river, and the unfortunate drownings of everyone in the fishing party who’d gone into the water after him.

A tragic tale. The aristos lapped it up.

Talac had then taken some of the Palace Guards to recover the bodies. If those that found the bodies or prepared them for burial found it strange that several were sporting knife or arrow wounds, they were keeping very quiet. Loyal to their Prince and the tale he’d spun.

Now, finally, with the bodies on their way to be buried, and no hint that anyone thought the incident had been anything other than an awful tragedy… Alia and Perri were officially in the clear. Regal was dead. Alia’s mission complete.

“Is that all you and Grandmere discussed? She didn’t perchance try to convince you that you would make an excellent Queen?”

How had Talac guessed? And how should she respond? Talac would know if she lied.

“Um… maybe.”

“You don’t agree with her assessment?”

“I hadn’t ever given the role much serious thought before.”

“And now?”

“I don’t believe I’d be a very good fit. I’m too set in my ways. There would be too many rules, too many restrictions… I relish my freedom.”

The sparkle in Talac’s eyes brightened. He was definitely amused.

“Personally, I’m in agreement with my Grandmother. But what about me? Did she say how I would factor into the equation if you wore the crown and wished to get your way? Am I to be manipulated? Tricked? Coerced and distracted by your feminine wiles?”

“Er… a combination of manipulation and training was mentioned.”

“That’s disappointing.”

“Excuse me?”

“I believe if I’m to eventually play the role of patsy King, and Grandmere is seeking to position you as the power behind the throne, then I would prefer to be beguiled by your feminine wiles.”

What? He was teasing her, wasn’t he.

“To be brutally honest, I don’t believe I have… wiles.”

Talac laughed, a hearty deep chuckle.

“You should have more faith in yourself. So, let’s discuss your future. The man you wished to see dead is being buried six feet under as we speak. Your sister has been re-united with her long lost son. What do you intend to do now?”

“Return to the Lair.”

Alia said the words by rote, where else would she go? What else could she do?

“And take up the Beast mantle once more?”

“Well, yes.”

“The role that comes with all those weighty expectations and heavy responsibilities? The role that places you under constant scrutiny by everyone around you? Demanding all your time, your energy? It strikes me the position comes with a lot of restrictions. Paying your Father frequently both in money and displays of public allegiance. Ensuring all your various industries are performing at their peak levels. Responsible for the safety, health, even the happiness of everyone who lives and breathes within the Lair battlements. Tell me… where, in all that, is this freedom you say you crave?”

Cruddy hell. Just thinking about her life back at the Lair, Alia could practically feel her shoulders sagging under all the weight of the expectations and responsibilities that came along with being the Beast. Resolutely though she kept her back ramrod straight, refusing to relax back into her chair. Talac was playing a deep game here. Circling. Prodding at her. He wanted something, that amused sparkle in his eyes was a clear warning.

“I believe you have a proposition for me?”

Did he want to offer her a job? Or maybe request she stay longer, let them continue on as lovers until the lo… lust and attraction they felt for one another burned itself out. Or until he was forced to marry a suitable partner and could no longer put off providing the Vallas Realm with an heir.

Talac continued to stare at Alia speculatively, before arching a taunting, challenging left eyebrow, as if he were silently questioning her intelligence.

Oh, no. He couldn’t possibly be on the same track as Lady Cecelia.

“Just how much river water did you swallow the other day? I’m not Queen material.”

“That would be the finish line. First, you would be Princess Alia, it has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Please. Princesses are sweet, graceful, pretty and perfect. Do you equate any of those attributes with me?”

“Not a one. You’re bold, decisive, fair, ruthless, capable and selfless. A hunter and fierce protector. Always first in line to face down a threat. And as much as it might privately pain you, willing to enact harsh judgements for the greater good. Did I miss anything out? Oh, and beautiful, stunningly, perhaps unconventionally, downright gorgeous.”

“I…”

Gods, how was she supposed to respond to that? Alia’s insides feeling all strangely melty and heated.

“If danger came calling, which type of Princess would you wish to be in charge?”

“The Vallas Realm would revolt.”

“I think our subjects would quickly come to adore you.”

“More likely the aristos would stage a coup.”

“They’re always plotting and planning something. This way we can direct their energies.”

“Yes, but you stated you no longer wish to seek out bridal candidates. Therefore, the Talac - Captain of the Guard - disguise would be defunct, you could no longer travel about uncovering and exposing those doing the plotting and foil them.”

“Ah, but I was thinking of inventing a new, harmless persona. That of besotted newlywed. Travelling about visiting my new wife’s kin, who I’m given to understand are extensive and located at all corners of the Realm. And we already have a first mission. Tracking down and punishing who ever tried to poison you that day of the high tea by the river.”

“Talac…”

She didn’t know what to say, he had bamboozled her.

“Burdens and responsibilities are lightened the more shoulders there are to carry them. Troubles and problems shared are halved in an instant. You would never be alone again, for I would be there beside you.”

Talac was so tempting… him, the man. But so far all she’d heard him talk about was how suitable Alia would be for the Realm, for the royal family. Unconsciously, Alia shook her head, breath catching in her throat as Talac moved like lightning, suddenly kneeling before her. His large warm hands capturing hers, gripping them gently but firmly.

“It would be the truth you know.”

“The truth?”

He was too close. His touch, it sent little flits of heat to flap around her stomach in anticipation… in need.

“Besotted. Because I am, Alia. Besotted. Beguiled. Enthralled. Captivated… by you. From the moment you ran pell mell down that grassy incline. A chicken feather in your hair. A smudge of stable dirt on your face, and a crooked bridesmaid flower crown upon your head. You were enchanting. Then we danced. Then we duelled with words… and swords. I’d never met a woman like you before. I tried to dodge the inevitable, calling you friend… but I found myself yearning to see you smile, to touch you… to kiss and hold you. I wanted more than friendship, I wanted you, in my bed, in my life. I do not care what title you carry. Queen. Princess. Lady. Beast. Commoner. I love you… I’ll always love you, Alia.”

“Perhaps.”

She swallowed, her throat suddenly very dry.

“… perhaps you should have led with that declaration.”

“If I wasn’t Prince Zariffe the fourteenth, I would have considered doing so. But I come with imperious but loving parents, an interfering manipulative grandmother, and an entire Realm of subjects who feel they are entitled to have a say in what direction my life should go. I thought it only fair you should consider all the baggage I come with before making a decision.”

“Decision? In all of your warnings, flattery and declarations… I don’t believe you’ve asked me a question?”

She saw something flicker in those flint grey depths, uncertainty? Heavens, Talac was nervous. She was charmed.

“But before you do so formally. I feel impelled to issue you with a warning concerning the baggage that I carry. A gruff, prideful, stubborn father. And seemingly hundreds of female kin; sisters, half-sisters, nieces, aunts, great-aunts, cousins, second cousins. All, who if I were to move to relocate to the Golden Palace, would insist upon visiting me.”

“I would look forward to getting to know them. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve proven a rather successful matchmaker of late. Perhaps I could put my new found skills to some good use, for the sake of your family.”

“That would be nice. But not all seek marriage. Some would just like to see more of the world outside Gloomenthrall.”

“Perhaps they might wish to study at our universities. It’s past time they began accepting female candidates, and they’ll have a hard time denying entrance to anyone favoured by the Royals. Or… if your kin don’t wish to study, perhaps one or two might be interested in setting up a business here in the township. Habbon for instance, the jewellery designer.”

“A woman with a business? No one would patronise it.”

“They would if it was endorsed by the crown. I’m betting you could come up with a clever way to manipulate Grandmere into wearing one or two of her designs. The aristos will quickly follow her lead.”

Talac was serious about all these changes, Alia could tell by the sincere expression on his face. The flits picked up their fluttering around her gut, as if they were flying through a storm.

“I told you of the family curse. What if we only have female children?”

“Then that’ll certainly challenge my father and his views on succession. And if he isn’t willing to make some changes, then when I move onto the throne, I will do so.”

“Many… men will not like or approve of these changes you’re proposing.”

“It will take time but they’ll eventually get used to it. Especially once their female kin stop cooking, cleaning, and caring for them if they don’t start changing their ways.”

“Some will react violently… the women will be the ones to suffer.”

“I was talking to Perri, she mentioned not knowing what to do with the Soutner estate. I proposed a haven for women.”

“Ooohh, that’s a good idea. It’s close enough to Gloomenthrall that it will be protected, and we can have instructors from the Lair train the women in trades and self-defence. And Regal would be turning over in his freshly dug grave if he knew of it.”

Alia halted mid laugh as Talac squeezed her hands.

“So that takes care of all your baggage concerns… what about your feelings… for me?”

That flicker of uncertainty flashed across his eyes again. He undid her with his bravery, with his declarations, it was only fair she return the favour.”

“From the first moment you lifted me all too effortlessly into the air as we danced back at the wedding held at the Lair, I was intrigued by you… wary, but definitely intrigued. Not once did you attempt to usurp my role. Everything you did, everything you said, indicated you not only respected me but had faith in me and what I was trying to achieve with the Lair, its inhabitants, and my kin. But I had been alone for so very long… had convinced myself that I would forever be alone, that it took me a while… perhaps too long, to recognise a kindred spirit. And it didn’t help matters, at all, when I discovered you were a Prince. That not only complicated things for me, but destroyed any fantastical remote ideas I had still remaining that you and I… well, could be a you and I.”

“I feel like I should apologise. But you know the reasons for the disguise. And you know why I kept being the Prince a secret.”

“Yes. I had assumed Talac, the one I had gotten to know at Gloomenthrall, was nothing but a mask you put on and pulled off when it suited you. That he was dead, as it were, once you stepped back into your royal role. And all I was left with was Prince Zariffe, who I didn’t know, and who wore an arrogant expression constantly and maintained a remote distance from everyone. But then I noticed the familiar twinkle in your eyes when something amused you was still present. And that you continued to manoeuvre those around you about, the same as Talac would have, just with a dollop more condescension added to the mix. You laughed. You never mocked me or denigrated my talents. You praised my quarry-hammer and archery skills. And you never allowed anyone to escape taunting me without giving them a taste of their own medicine. Zariffe Talac… um, another middle name I can’t remember… Vallas, it wasn’t part of the plan but somewhere along the way I fell in love with the master spy, the Prince… the man. I love you Talac.”

Alia leaned forward planning to seal her declaration with a sweet swift kiss, but the moment their lips met, heat flared inferno bright between them.

A lifetime of kisses just like this were in the offing. Never could Alia have imagined that allowing this man to gatecrash her hunt would lead to the two of them falling in love. Talac breaking off the kiss abruptly, eliciting a small moan of protest from Alia, which brought a self-satisfied smile to his lips.

“Yes?”

What had been the question again? Oh, of course. “Yes!”

And Gods help them both and the entire Realm. She put a hand up to block him as he made to lean forward to kiss her again.

“Is there a servant standing outside that door?”

“Without a doubt. Probably two.”

“Then you’re just going to have to wait until after the wedding to resume… what we were just doing.”

“Royal weddings do not happen speedily. Would you really put the two of us through the torture of waiting, considering we both know how good we are between the sheets?”

Leaning forward, Alia tapped both his biceps.

“You have two good arms and know where to find rope. You’ll arrive in my suite after dark, and leave before sunrise.”

“Sounds like I’ll be doing all the hard work. What will you be doing?”

“I shall be leaving my window unlocked… or not, if you annoy me.”

Talac laughed, stealing a quick kiss.

“No doubt I shall annoy you quite frequently in the lead up to our wedding and beyond. But I promise to work hard at winning back your favour… diligently… intimately… if only you would grant me the opportunity.”

“You’re an honourable man who always adheres to his promises… my windows shall always be unlocked for you, and only you. If anyone else comes through them though, they will not be leaving my bedroom alive.”

“Which is the only way I would have it. And you can always count on my help to dispose of any inconvenient bodies.”

“I wonder if we can find a way to write that promise into our vows?”

“I shall ask the Palace priest. Do you think you’ll miss it… being the Beast of Gloomenthrall?”

Alia took a moment to consider that question seriously, would she? A smile lifting the edges of her lips suddenly as she contemplated her future.

“Perhaps. But after we’re wed, think of everything I’ll be able to accomplish as the Beast of the Vallas Realm.”

The End