Page 1 of The Warlord’s Princess (Warlords of Tempest #3)
RAMSEY
Before Exile
Walking with my head bowed, I round the corner, entering the sitting room of the Great Princess Kasmina.
Her giggles fill the room, alerting me to others, and sure enough, when I lift my gaze, I see she is surrounded by four Tempest men from the barracks.
The sight makes my blood run hot, but I know it is not my place to have such feelings.
“Oh, look, it is solemn Ramsey,” she says nonchalantly, a smile curling onto her beautiful lips. Her light blue cheeks darken, tinting with violet as her silvery eyes find mine.
Knowing that I am their better, the other men do not look at me, though as I watch one caressing her feet, I feel small.
“Does it gladden you to see that I have been well cared for while you have been away at battle?” the princess asks.
The gods saw fit to make her beautiful, though it was at the expense of her heart.
“Leave us,” she tells the other men, and they slink away, shoulders slumped.
She gets up from her chaise and crosses the room to me, her white garment flowing around her body like water.
“What is it that saddens you?” she says softly. “Are you jealous?”
“I just thought your appetites ran richer than the trash from the barracks,” I reply, turning away so she cannot see my shame.
“My appetite would run only for you if you could manage to complete your mission.”
My hands clench into fists, but I say nothing, as she is right.
I had lived sixteen years when she first allowed me to take her. Due to my high birth, my mother being a queen in a larger territory, we had been raised side-by-side and were meant to mate.
But it was not just lust I had felt for her. Our kinship ran deep, and she was who I ran to with all of my thoughts and questions.
In my heart, she was mine, and I know that she felt the same.
I wasted no time filling her with my seed again and again, thinking it would surely be enough.
But her womb never quickened, and our relationship changed.
I was sent away to battle under the brave Warlord Manatrix, and upon my return, I saw her for the first time with another man.
The discovery was intentional on her part. Perhaps as a way to punish me for being unsuccessful at impregnating her.
Still, when we were together again, it was almost as though no time had passed, and no other man had come between us.
And even now, as I have endured this pain more times than I can count, she is still mine, in my heart.
“Follow me,” she says as she walks past, her hand gently grazing my chest.
Her fingernails are long and freshly polished, looking more like talons than I have ever seen them.
Over the past several years, she has grown colder, more vicious, climbing higher than her peers, using tactics that, to some, would be dishonorable.
But I love her still, as she is mine.
“You have disappointed me, Ramsey,” she says in a mischievous tone.
“I have brought great honor to Tempest in my battles,” I say, trying to hide my annoyance.
“And yet my womb did not quicken with your seed.”
While that is true, it is not only me who she takes to bed.
But I know better than to say that, because it is never a woman’s fault when they fail to conceive.
“You have been given privileges most men have not, and yet you have squandered them.”
“If my mistress would like, I can try harder.”
She giggles, making my heart light, but when I look over at her, I see that her face is not as it was when I was last with her. It is hard. Angry. Unforgiving.
After bringing me to the caste courtyard, she stops and spins to face me, looking at me with a callous disregard she typically reserves for others.
“Oh, my fierce Ramsey, you need not try anymore.”
Shocked, I look down as her flowing robes settle and see that her belly is now round.
A stab of pain pierces my heart, for we have not lain together in some time.
“Who?”
“It must have been one of the lowly barracks men,” she replies, her pretty lips widening into a smile.
I know I should feel elated for her, but the pain in my chest is so great, I can hardly breathe.
Why not me? What did I do wrong? I was honorable in every regard, and when the other men took their spoils, I took none, thinking only of her.
She looks over my shoulder. “Guards.”
Three Tempest warriors approach, one to my back, another to my right, and the third to my left. Their formation can only mean they seek to restrain me.
Stunned, I ask, “What is the meaning of this?”
“You have failed me, and I have no use for failure in my court.”
“Am I to be sent to battle?” I ask, confused. “Because if that is the case, you need not force me. I revel in battle and victory.”
“No, you are not to go to battle, dear Ramsey. You are to be exiled.”