Page 13 of The King’s Bodyguard (Catkin Trilogy #1)

Landis

I couldn’t stop thinking about Corrin. Corrin’s breath against my ear.

Corrin’s lips brushing the edge of my cheek.

Corrin’s rough palm stroking my cock. The memory of that night swamped me.

It took all of my willpower to keep my face neutral.

I slowly descended the stairs to the castle courtyard where the commotion of a hunting party preparing to depart filled the cool morning air.

The sun had risen for an hour, pinking the pale blue sky filled with clouds.

It was a dull morning, promising rain and fog.

I wrinkled my nose. If I had my way, I would remain indoors and miss Corrin.

Maybe I would have gathered the courage to creep into the soldiers’ barracks and seek out his bed. Just for a quick nap.

Gods, I miss him already.

As if reading my thoughts, I caught sight of Corrin. He was staring right at me with a small smile on his pale face. After a long night of patrolling the castle, he and his Munni tomkin looked tired. Their bedtime was approaching. My heart skipped a beat, and my feet turned to intersect his path.

“Going to bed?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Corrin, keeping formal in front of his tomkin.

“You were on a different patrol last night.”

It wasn’t easy to keep the conversation going, but I was desperate to talk to him at least a little.

It had been two days since he stood on guard outside my door.

Two days since he entered my chamber and laid his hands on me.

My body ached for him so much. Did he think of me as much as I did of him?

“Indeed, yes,” Corrin said gravely. “Did you miss me?”

A small smile flickered across his face despite the fatigue marking the edges of his eyes and his mouth.

I found myself blushing a little, and I pressed my lips closed and glared at him.

Alf and a few others behind him chuckled.

They were good-humored Munni. I knew they didn’t mean to disrespect me, but I suddenly felt as uncouth as a kit before his first heat.

“Not—well, a little,” I admitted with a huff. “You and your tomkin have done a great job guarding the castle. If I had my way, I would be asking for your escort today.”

“The hunting party is still going forward?” Corrin looked skeptically up at the sky. “With the fog rolling in?”

“Yes.” I grimaced. “Rilla enjoys hunting and riding and all that. I thought she might enjoy seeing Sumarene’s finest hunting grounds.”

“I wish you well, Your Majesty.”

“Bag us a few pheasants,” grunted Alf, walking past with the others.

Corrin trailed after them and then turned to gaze as a black charger was led forward, decked out in royal colors. It was Sanson, one of the royal stallions my older half-brother had raised and broken in. I used the term “broken in” loosely. Sanson was a vivacious creature.

“You are riding Sanson today?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

I bridled a little, feeling nettled.

“They had discussed letting Rilla put him through his paces,” I said. “But he seems more... frisky today than usual. I might take him in hand myself.”

Corrin shot me an amused look.

“Be safe... Landis,” he said.

At the sound of my name, my tail rose a little, quivering. My ears flicked back and forth, and a flush rose to my cheeks. Gripping my leather riding gloves, I shot a glare down at the ground and then bashfully glanced up at Corrin.

“It’d be more fun if you were there.”

It was easy enough to admit. I didn’t care who heard.

Not really. If my cousin overheard me, he would gain leverage over me.

He would pressure me even further and push me to my limits, but Corrin was worth it.

There was something about Corrin’s sharp jaw, the glimpse of his fangs, and the pink brush of his tongue that had me throwing all caution to the winds.

Was it just the way he touched me or something else?

“I am sure you will enjoy your time with the princess,” Corrin said softly. His green eyes glimmered with regret. “I would try to join, but... I think I would just pass out in the saddle.”

“Go sleep.” I forced a smile.

“Be safe, my king.”

The way he said ‘my king’ made my heart skip a beat.

Corrin bowed and followed his fellow guards to their shared barracks.

I watched him walk off. His stride was long.

My gaze traced the upright tilt to his broad shoulders, the black hair that was even now coming undone from its half-up messy bun.

Beneath his short tunic, I could make out the curve of his buttocks beneath his skin-tight breeches.

I felt rather breathless. I would much, much rather remain at the castle.

Someone called my name, and I considered Sanson thoughtfully.

Rilla could handle him, I had no doubt. The young molly had proved herself a capable rider and could seat a horse better than most in my court.

On the other hand, I could only imagine the political outcry should anything untoward happen to her during the hunt.

Although there was no sight of my cousin anywhere, I would not put it past him to try something, if only to cast uncertainty about my court and the state of our security.

Hugh shouted my name, and I waved back, offering a grim smile. Approaching Sanson, I took the reins and mounted in one smooth swing. Rilla, coming down the stairs, gave me an approving smile.

“You have a good mount there, Landis,” she said. “Quite spirited.”

“My brother’s,” I said through gritted teeth as the stallion bucked, testing the strength of my arms.

“I would have loved to have bought it off him,” Rilla said. “Of course, Father would have ideas. He would probably think the creature is too strong for me.”

“Perhaps you could take him for a ride around the ring another day,” I suggested.

Under the sharp eyes of my grooms and horse trainers, that would be a safer approach. I hoped. Gods knew, who Lord Morne has paid off in my court. Princess Rilla didn’t seem to notice my suddenly sour mood and smiled wickedly.

“I would love nothing more,” she declared.

Once everyone was ready, the hunting party began in earnest. The morning was filled with a merry chase of a few horned lizards.

The pests were common borrowers in the northern forests of Sumarene.

Dark-scaled with large claws, they burst out of the ground in chase of the dogs, and we followed hard after with bow and spear.

Rilla bagged two. I managed to skewer one properly, allowing Hugh to take the last. Hugh, clearly in high spirits, regaled Rilla with tales of the origin of the horned lizards, how their ancestors had once been great dragons.

Fanciful stuff, but judging by the sparkle in Rilla’s eye, the young molly was impressed with ancient tales of mythical beasts.

After that came a long, restful luncheon.

While everyone scarfed down cold slabs of beef, fresh vegetables, and slices of thick warm bread, I picked at my meal and tried not to think about Corrin.

Would Corrin have beaten Rilla and taken all of the prizes?

Would he have mounted Sanson behind me and taken the reins?

I suppressed a sigh as I imagined Corrin’s arms around me, skillfully bringing Sanson to heel.

If he rode the stallion, it would surely give my arms a rest.

I hadn’t gone hunting for a long while, and in the past, when I was younger, I had rarely been allowed to leave the castle.

Sheltered within its eaves, my combat and horse riding skills had been curtailed to whatever my tutors deemed fit, usually the ring or the palace gymnasia.

I could feel my lack of training and experience.

Already my arms felt as weak as a kitten, and I was not looking forward to getting back on Sanson’s back.

I looked around. We had camped out in a ring of trees.

Other party members had gathered under various trees to relax, gossip, and eat.

Underneath my own, flanked by two guards, I sat alone.

Hugh came by to talk about another party that I was slated to attend.

Once he left me though, I was able to rest my eyes and lean back against the rough bark of the great oak behind me.

After a while though, the camp began to stir.

Overhead, thick clouds scudded, promising rain.

A thick fog was also creeping in through the trees.

Ordinarily, I didn’t mind Sumarene’s autumnal mists, but today I was far from ready to deal with weather problems on top of Sanson.

Nevertheless, Rilla wanted to try to hunt a bit longer. She didn’t mind a bit of rain.

Biting back any complaints, I approached my difficult mount, wondering yet again why they had to choose Sanson.

I supposed it was all about appearances.

Rilla was clearly impressed by how I handled the spirited stallion.

She would be less than impressed if I lost control, though.

Sanson seemed to be even more energetic than usual.

He seemed downright ornery. Something was definitely bothering him.

“What’s the matter, boy?” I muttered.

“Looks like he needs a bit of a race,” someone laughed. “Give him his head, Your Majesty.”

“Be careful, Landis.” Rilla, skillfully steering her favored gray hunter, Marin, drew up alongside me as I allowed Sanson to shift about in a large lazy circle. “Something’s...”

I drew in his reins, grabbed the saddle, smoothly mounted, and was instantly nearly thrown off. Clutching the pommel before me, I tried to grab the reins that had been jerked from my hands. Sanson wasn’t going to wait. Before I could do anything, Sanson bolted.

I glanced back briefly, catching a glimpse of guests rising to their feet in concern.

My guards were running for their horses.

Much further back, a new contingent of guards, guests, and groundskeepers were arriving.

Huntmaster Inarin was shouting something.

Among the new guards, I caught sight of a familiar black head of hair, a pale face— Corrin? Up at this hour? It was much too early!

Before I could say anything, Sanson plunged over a hill and disappeared down the other side, taking me out of sight of the rest of the hunting party.

Along the way, he swerved, bucked, and whinnied loudly.

I needed to dismount, but Sanson wasn’t waiting for me to figure out a way to extricate myself.

Rilla, thank the gods, kept her head. Pushing Marin harder, she followed behind me, shouting suggestions.

Something about cutting the saddle off. What?

Without a saddle, I was sure to take a tumble.

Behind her, racing down the crest of the hill, I caught sight of Corrin on a dark bay horse, trying to catch up as well.

Rilla and I were now plunging into the thickening mist. I couldn’t see more than a few paces around me.

As the trees clustered together closely, I was forced to bow my head and cover my face with my arm in a bid to protect myself from the oncoming rough brush of branches.

I could no longer attempt to guide Sanson in any way.

I just hung on and hoped that he would tire out at some point.

Where are Rilla and Corrin? I had no clue. Marin tried his best, but Rilla, unfamiliar with the forest and riding a less powerful horse, struggled to keep up. Gritting my teeth, I clung to Sanson’s back. Cut off the saddle. That was what she had said.

My fingers flew to my belt, where my small hunting knife hung.

Pulling my feet out of the stirrups, I clutched at Sanson’s mane with one hand while leaning down to slice the girth strap.

Within seconds, the saddle flew off. We were now alone, careening through the mist. Sanson wasn’t slowing down.

Sanson kicked and bucked, tossing the saddle cloth beneath off as well.

I immediately saw the problem. Before I could do anything, Sanson came to a screeching halt, throwing me over his head.

Instantly, I tucked and rolled. The ground rose up to meet me.

As I hit the rough soil, heather, and sparse grass, air whooshed out of my chest. I couldn’t breathe.

Black dots danced before my eyes. I wondered if anyone would notice what I saw—the thistles that had been shoved onto Sanson’s back beneath the saddle cloth.

I blacked out.