Page 8 of The King’s Bodyguard (Catkin Trilogy #1)

Corrin

N o sooner had the words slipped out, I regretted my impertinence.

This was not how a gentlecat of the king’s guard behaved, nor a tomkin of my tribe.

Any Munni would know better than to flout tradition, generate theatrics, or risk bringing shame to our people.

At any moment, King Landis could come to his senses, cast me out of the guard, strip me of my position and rank, and spit on the face of the Munni.

Mother would be livid. Father... Father would undoubtedly cast me out of the clan. I knew all this and yet I couldn’t help myself. The feeling of Landis’s hand on mine, however, drew me out of my mental turmoil.

The King of Sumarene was not going anywhere.

Against all odds, he remained in my arms. Pliant.

Willing. Expectant even. It was impossible to turn my eyes away from his wide-eyed gaze.

Those blue eyes were as mercurial and fathomless as the ocean, but they told me one thing: “Please.” My words brought out shy happiness from deep within Landis.

“Y-yes,” Landis said softly. “If-if you don’t mind, that is, Corrin. I recognize I am keeping you from your task.”

“My task is to ensure your security... and happiness,” I added with great liberality.

Laughter erupted from my new dance partner.

More like a giggle. It bubbled up from within Landis like a trapped stream rushing freely.

For some reason, it buoyed my spirits as well.

It felt only natural then to draw him closer, so we stood chest to chest. His left hand automatically rested itself on my shoulder, and the fingers of his right now sought out mine.

“Ugh,” he said. “Could the gloves come off?”

“Oh, yes,” I said, tucking them in my leather belt. “You might regret it though. My palms are rather rough...”

Once again, Landis placed his hand in mine. This time, however, I could feel the warmth of him as his fingers brushed across my palm.

“Much better.” Landis blushed delicately. “I—I like how you feel... so different. Rough, but strong.”

I curled my roughened palm inward around his own. My right arm drew tightly around his waist, keeping him close to me.

“I will do my best to not endanger your toes,” Landis said jokingly.

“I would consider it an honor were you to tread on mine,” I assured him with a grin.

A soft laugh escaped me, and Landis giggled again. I glanced around the balcony. No one had been drawn by our laughter. No doubt the sound of talking and music within drowned out our voices.

Moving forward smoothly, I guided him through the first forward spin.

I could feel the spike in his heartbeat as he pressed closer to me, allowing me to take the lead.

After entering another set of the waltz steps, I glanced down to see if Landis was still enjoying himself.

The smile on Landis’s face was undoubtedly genuine this time.

There was a sparkle in his eye and a wave to his tail that spoke of contented relaxation.

My nose found itself buried in a nest of curls as Landis bobbed up and then down.

Now that I was able to focus on the moment, I found myself suddenly overwhelmed with his scent.

He had no doubt bathed before Lady Hartford’s ball.

There was an aroma of fresh lilies, light sandalwood, and some kind of apple balm.

Or perhaps that was the sweet pastry on his breath.

Yes. That was his scent, the scent of his desire—ripe apples ready to fall, sunlight on the grass, and the faded perfume of elandarin blossoms. It was heady.

I wanted nothing more than to draw him in more tightly, enjoy the soft curves of his supple body, and bury my head in his arms. Deep within my core, something hungry unfurled.

Desire prowled, wanting only one thing: to make him mine.

As if reading my mind, or perhaps sensing the tension in my body, Landis gasped a little. He tipped his head back. Within my hand, his fingers clenched suddenly within mine. Behind him, his tail flowed out with the slightest tremble.

Fighting my own instincts, I battled against my need.

Even as we turned into a reverse double spin, I tried to focus on the moment.

Tonight, with the blessing of the Goddess Meryn, I could gift Landis something, but it would not last forever.

After all, the music was coming to a close.

Soon, we would be parted, and the chasm of our circumstances would once again widen the spaces between us.

Sure enough, the violins and flutes drew into the final bars of the song.

Landis and I heard the applause. We stumbled to a half-stop.

Landis clung to me, clearly reluctant to part ways.

I gently extricated myself and stepped back.

In response, Landis too began to realize what was happening.

He drew in a few breaths and stiffened his back, resuming his more regal posture.

Behind his serene gaze, however, I caught a glimpse of longing.

Longing I could not in all good consciousness answer.

“Thank you, Corrin,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a dance.”

“Your partners are much too controlling,” I said mildly. “That one lordling you danced with tonight was practically dragging you all over the floor.”

“You noticed that?” Landis asked. His golden ears flicked back with surprise.

Of course, I did. Tasked as I was with his safety, my eyes had been glued to him since our arrival. From the edges of the room, from the seclusion of various vantage points, I had stood guard and seen how people treated him. It had been quite a bit of a shock, honestly.

For one thing, it was clear that many of Landis’s aristocratic subjects didn’t respect the young king at all.

They took quite a few liberties behind his back, gossiping about his garments, his behavior, and his recent decisions in court.

That kind of rumor-mongering was certain to happen about any monarch, but the snide comments certainly took me aback.

“Mhmmm... What HAS he done to his hair though? I suppose haystacks are in this year...”

“Is it true he fell asleep at the General Assembly? Surely not. I mean, he IS young and perhaps needs a kit nap every now and then. But still.”

“I mean, blue is rather last year, is it not? But I suppose one does what one has to.”

Watching the dances had been even more painful.

During four of his dances, several people attempted to cut in.

Cutting in wasn’t a social blunder necessarily, but I had never seen young gentlecats wrangle a prince, much less a king in the fashion they did.

In one instance, Landis’s hand had been outright yanked out of his partner’s grasp, and the young king had been dragged back a step.

As though he were some kind of trophy or prize to be hauled off to a cave , I thought with rising indignation.

When Landis finally managed to rest, I had immediately drawn closer with the hopes of whisking him off for a rest somewhere.

Thankfully, even Landis seemed to feel that he required a reprieve from his own court.

Now, I watched him mentally gird himself for yet another gauntlet of dances.

Something in my chest squeezed tight. If I had my way, I would be packing him into a carriage and sending him home.

But Landis is king. He is his own person.

After tonight, it is clear that his wishes need to be heard as well.

I need to protect him , I mused, but I can’t just run roughshod over him as everyone else does.

“I will be right there when you need it most,” I finally told him.

Landis blinked in surprise. Perhaps he picked up on the emotions I was trying to hide. He slowly nodded and offered me a small, reassuring smile.

“Thank you, Corrin,” he said.

Then he slipped back into the great hall, shoulders set and back straight.

Landis’s courage and determination filled my chest with a sense of pride.

There is my king... and my friend , I thought.

I may be relegated to watching from the shadows, unseen and unheard, but perhaps my presence will bolster his confidence.

I could only hope. Here, standing on the edges of the great hall, I watched as Landis was once received into a massive bevy of young lords and ladies.

Lady Hartford, watching over the crowd with other eagle-eyed grand-mamas, seemed to be managing Landis’s dance card.

She gently scolded the king for his absence from the last set.

Landis prettily offered apologies and made arrangements to dance with his partner at a later point in the evening.

Circling about on the patterned marble floor, the dancers flowed up and down in lines and circles as the ronde gave way to waltzes and line dances. Landis danced through the list of his dance card with a patient smile plastered on his face. However, he did not laugh.

As another molly took Landis’s arm, jealousy stirred within. I wanted to cut in and take him for my own, but my duty rooted me in place. Tension thrummed through my shoulders.

“He’s not enjoying himself is he.” Hugh’s voice broke into my thoughts.

I held my tongue. Whatever Landis had shared with me, I would carry in secrecy to the grave. Besides, Ser Hugh had no doubt formed his own opinion. The tall, broad-shouldered knight frowned, and his golden eyes filled with uncharacteristic worry.

“The preparations for the Princess’s arrival are coming apace,” he said quietly. “Before we know it, there will be wedding bells ringing. Our poor king will be held captive by ball and chain.”

“Hm,” I grunted, feeling more annoyed than ever.

The last thing Landis needs is for us to be acting like the end of the world is nigh, I thought. He needs encouragement... and a chance to find ways to be himself from now until the future.

“Ah,” Hugh said, stiffening a little. “Looks like we have a problem. Look lively, Corrin.”

My gaze focused instantly on Landis who was standing within a group of young toms and mollies.

A slight young gentlecat with deep auburn hair and dark green eyes was glaring furiously at another tall, fair-haired, tan gentlecat.

Lord Berrymay’s youngest son, Colm, was facing down Lord Carl’s oafish offspring, Rhenn, I realized.

Colm wasn’t backing down either. He kept pushing back at a slender, almost white-haired young tom with spectacles, who was attempting to draw him back.

Judging by the white-haired tom’s sober black and deep purple suiting, and the paneled robe he wore over his breeches, it was clear that the fourth party was the king’s high mage.

I didn’t know the mage by name, but Hugh seemed to recognize him. Hugh cheerfully waved and addressed the group.

“Holla, Alan!” He said as though he were simply discussing the weather and the roads. “What do we have here?”

Alan scurried over instantly, looking rather harassed.

Apparently, Landis had been dancing with Colm when Rhenn had tried to cut in.

Colm had refused. Drama had ensued. I didn’t much care for court politics and intrigue.

My attention was focused entirely on Landis.

He was rubbing his arm. Had Rhenn forcefully pulled at him?

Or Colm? It had been hard to tell in the thick of the crowd of dancers.

Landis’s ears flicked backward and forward in consternation, and his tail swished in an agitated fashion.

I gazed at him, hoping to meet his eyes and receive some kind of unspoken command from him.

At his word, I was more than ready to toss the entire party off the balcony.

Landis, however, was focused on Rhenn and Colm.

He was clearly attempting to smooth things over at all costs.

That was when Alan noticed me. Alan flipped a strand of hair back and then leaned to whisper something in an undertone to Hugh. My sharp ears caught up on the syllables lost in the hum of voices surrounding us.

“By the fiery mane of Brandir, who’s the Munni?”

“The king’s guard,” Hugh replied in an equal hush. “Ser Corrin Stonewarden.”

“The Stonewarden?” Alan’s voice rose a little.

I smirked to myself. So the mage knows a little bit of Munni politics.

Fascinating. When I looked back at Alan, I discovered that he was busy inserting himself in between Hugh and me, clearly hoping to start a conversation with me.

I focused on the young king I had been tasked to protect and the lordlings who were now raising their voices.

Already choice words were bandied between Rhenn and Colm.

Rhenn accused Colm of failing in the field during some martial display.

Colm shot back that Rhenn’s intelligence could hardly fathom the nuance of anything beyond that of tumbling girls if that.

Rhenn, stiff with disdain, reddened a little and accused Colm of coming from poor stock.

Perhaps Colm was the unfortunate product of an illegitimate relationship.

Colm’s fists clenched, but he noted that Rhenn would be glad to receive any get, legitimate or otherwise.

Rhenn’s fate, if Colm was to be believed, would be to see his halls filled with other men’s progeny and added with a snarl that Rhenn was a gelded tomkin with no experience at all.

“Gelded?” The question slipped out of me before I could stop myself.

“Oh,” Alan said helpfully. “I heard that Munni have different approaches to the, er, time of all young catkin. Is it true, after all?”

“Time?” I blinked. “You mean heat?”

A gasp of shock rippled through the crowd at my words.

Landis’s cheeks flushed a little red as well.

His blue eyes widened as he stared at me.

Clearly, I had once again reverted to my brash, outspoken self.

There was no stopping the conversation now.

It was careening out of control like a runaway carriage.

“Indeed,” Alan said briskly. He smoothed his long white hair thoughtfully and added for clarification. “Surely you have heard of it before. The way Sunna get around all of that messy business.”

“Messy business?” I blinked at the mage’s choice of words. “How?”

“Potions,” Alan said crisply.

Horror washed over me as I slowly digested what was being said. These Sunna, most of them here anyways, hadn’t experienced heat as most catkin Munni would. I shifted my gaze to Alan, to Hugh, to Rhenn, to Landis, and then over to Colm. None of them had experienced heat?

But that meant that Landis...

Landis never had experienced that moment as I had.

Disjointed thoughts spilled in as I began to piece everything together.

He has never been given that chance to experience a moment of pleasure.

His heat has been stolen away by some mage’s potion.

Landis... I realized. Landis, about-to-be-married Landis. .. is a virgin!?