Allegra's Dream (Avador Book 4, a Books We Love Fantasy Romance) (4 page)

Still, it would help if he could read the text, he thought as he reached for the last volume.  And there it was! Newer than the other books, it was written in contemporary Avadoran and was titled “Tales from the Otherworld.” The book related experiences of people who had gone to the Otherworld and returned by means of the portals. Others had died for a short time, then come back to life. “How can that be?’ he said aloud. “Once you’re dead, you’re dead.” Suddenly aware that he had spoken aloud, he glanced around, thankful no one else occupied the room. Time slipped by him as he turned the pages, reading of how time differed in that other place, and the many fruits and nuts that flourished there, the trees and flowers, exotic yet familiar, not too varied from those in his own world. Most important, the book contained maps that revealed portals to the Otherworld. Just as worthwhile, it told how to leave the Otherworld. Sighing, he closed the book and leaned back in his chair, feeling more optimistic than he had in a long time.

* * *

“Queen Keriam and Prince Roric have returned from Galdina and are hosting a party in a few days. Would you like to attend?”

“A party!” The princess’s eyes lit up, her smile a welcome relief from his recent difficulties.

Arrived at the palace at Mag Bregha, Rowan presented the princess with the histories and biographies he’d found at the Treasury of Knowledge. The princess continually fascinated him,. He enjoyed watching the play of emotions across her pretty face, her sheer happiness at every boon that came her way.

Allegra looked toward her maid. “Elsa, do I have any suitable dresses for a party?”

Lips pursed in thought, the maid set her knitting down. “There is your periwinkle silk packed away,” she said, rising from her chair. “I’ll get it now and hang it up to get the wrinkles out.”

While the maid was out of the room, Rowan spoke in low tones. “My lady, I sought out Queen Keriam while at the palace recently. She knows of your arrival here and requested your attendance at her party.” He frowned. “I question the wisdom of your attendance at the event. No one but a very few must know of your presence here in Avador. However, I could hardly refuse the queen. And yes, she is aware of the need for secrecy. The queen and I agreed that you will use another name, and that is how you will be introduced. How about Lucette Varay?”

She sighed. “If that is how it must be.”

“I’m afraid so, my lady.”

* * *

Days later, Rowan hired a carriage for the ride to the royal palace at Emain Macha. Sitting across from the princess, he was stunned by her beauty, but more than that, he found pleasure in hearing her talk, telling him of her country and the royal castle of Fomoria. She spoke in broken Avadoran, although he had told her from the first that he spoke her language. “Best I learn your language,” she’d replied. “I may be here for a long time.” Her voice enchanted him, soft and low, just above a whisper.

Her gown fit her beautifully, its neckline modest with only a hint of cleavage, and soft folds falling from her waist. The aroma of lavender wafted through the air, a scent he would forever associate with her. An amethyst necklace sparkled at her throat, her dangling ear rings swinging with every movement. She wore her hair simply, as she always did, long dark curls caressing her shoulders. She often glanced out the carriage window, asking a flood of questions as the carriage rumbled past hamlets, villages and open farmland. Seeking distraction, he glanced out the window, too, but he found it difficult to remove his gaze from her.

Beware, you will gain nothing by falling in love with this woman. There could never be any future for them together. Yet, more and more, he found himself drawn to her. Whenever peace reigned in her country–and if it did–she would return to Fomoria to claim her rightful place in the kingdom. And be gone from his life.

A sudden longing seized him, a desire to hold this woman in his arms, to tell her he would keep her safe forever. Ah, but that could never be. Despite the cool night air, his body warmed, and wild thoughts rampaged through his head.

She looked his way. “Tell me about your queen.”

“A good, capable ruler. She’s been on the throne for several years. Her husband, Roric, is the prince consort. We think much of our queen here in Avador. Her father was . . .” He shook his head. He should never have introduced that subject.

“Yes, what about her father?”

“An evil witch–Aradia--assassinated him, a sorceress who collaborated with the head of the army, Midac Balor.” He saw her wince, aware of her own loss. “After the . . . death of King Tencien, Balor and Aradia married and declared themselves king and queen. Theirs was a harsh rule, causing much suffering among the people.” He heaved a deep sigh. “Hunger, poverty, a miserable time for the people.”

“How long did they rule?”

“Not long, thank the Goddess. Early in their reign, Aradia died, although the cause of her death remains a mystery to this day. Waiting until the time was right, Princess Keriam gathered an army, and in one immense battle, defeated the usurper. Roric, then a servant of the crown, killed King Midac in a sword duel on the battlefield. Shortly after that, Princess Keriam took the throne and married Roric.”

“If she could do it, so can I. If only I can surmount my obstacles . . .”

“I hope and pray that the war faction in your country will soon be defeated, and that you can eventually return.” But I will miss you so much, he wanted to say. Just within the short time he had known her, she had worked her way into his heart.

As the carriage careened through the countryside, the sun began to set, and shadows played across her face in the descending darkness.

The last of daylight faded, and the first faint stars glowed in the dusky sky as the carriage eased up to the palace entrance. It joined other carriages ahead of it, all of them depositing prosperous looking men and women who greeted each other and exchanged gossip.

The coachman opened the door and let down the steps. Rowan exited the carriage and reached for Allegra’s hand, noting her smile of anticipation. As he clasped her hand, a sudden warmth washed over him, like waves on a seashore, a sensual pleasure like nothing he’d ever known. A look of surprise captured her face, prompting him to wonder if she felt the same. The wind picked up and she shivered, ending this special moment between them.

Craobhs–short sturdy trees--lined the walk leading up to the palace; the delicate aroma of night-blooming paconia drifted their way.

The palace was truly magnificent, Allegra mused as they entered the vast reception hall with others in front and behind them. Candles glimmered from a myriad of crystal chandeliers spaced throughout the room. Blue velvet draperies graced the high windows, the floor a lustrous pink marble. Making their way to the reception line, Rowan leaned close to speak. “I had hoped you’d meet the Minister of State, but he was called out on important business.”

“Ah, I’m sorry about that.”

As she made her way through the reception line, she caught bits and snatches of talk from other guests. Women were clad in silks and satins, their jewels glittering. Rowan preceded her, and when he introduced her as Lucette Varay, the queen nodded, as if understanding the subterfuge.

The queen spoke in low tones. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” What an inadequate reply, yet she could think of nothing better to say.

Upon leaving the reception line, Rowan introduced her to other men and women, but she feared she’d never remember their names. How different Avador was from her native country, the people here less formal, and, she had to admit, much friendlier.

Talk and laughter echoed across the room, the marble floor reflecting the noise as the guests gathered in groups. Allegra noted the other men, clad in sumptuous tunics and trousers, but none looked quite as elegant as Rowan. In his black velvet tunic and matching trousers, his gold pendant shining, he was surely the most striking man in the room. But more than looks or clothes, she admired his demeanor, his solicitude as he presented her to friends and acquaintances, ensuring that she had a drink and food.

As spacious as the reception room was, it soon filled up with hundreds of people, until it seemed she was rubbing elbows with all the other guests. Somehow, she became separated from Rowan but was enjoying herself too much to care. She lost track of time, meeting so many men and women, listening to their talk, answering questions about herself. Strong scents of musk and patchouli hung heavy in the air, overwhelming the more delicate aromas, such as chamomile and lilac.

After a while, she caught a glimpse of Rowan across the room, his head bent low next to a beautiful woman with silvery hair, her gown showing ample cleavage. Like a red hot poker, jealousy stabbed her, but she quickly chastised herself for such a ridiculous reaction. Why should she care if he paid attention to another woman? She, Allegra, had no hold on him. Still, she’d like to know the name of the woman who had caught Rowan’s attention. She turned to a man at her right. “Sir, who is that woman across the room, there by that tall pillar?”

He craned his neck, and it took him a few moments to locate the woman in question. “Oh, that’s Neala Dechtine. Her father is ambassador to Partholonia, but she spends most of her time here in Avador.”

Neala Dechtine. She’d remember that name but reminded herself that it was nothing to her with whom Rowan spent his time.

The man smiled her way and introduced himself as a merchant who imported luxury goods from Partholonia and arranged for their sale in Avador. “And you, madam, I didn’t get your name.”

“Lucette Varay from Fomoria.” A jolt of fear chilled her. How long could she keep her identity a secret? “You must forgive my limited ability to speak your language.” She bit into a crunchy almond cake and sipped from a silver goblet, finding the wine too dry for her liking.

“Ah, yes, I noticed your accent.” He smiled. “I’d be happy to teach you, if you’d give me your direction.”

“Well, I–“

”Madam, I feared I’d lost you.” Frowning, Rowan appeared at her side.

A spurt of irritation erupted inside her. “Sir, I’m enjoying myself so much, meeting others here. I wasn’t aware I was to stay glued to you.” She noticed the puzzled expression on the merchant’s face as he looked from her to Rowan.

Rowan nodded toward the merchant. “Good evening, Mayo. I trust your business is doing well. Will you excuse us now?”

The man made a slight bow. “Indeed. And good evening to both of you.” He smiled with one last suggestion for the princess. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

She returned the smile, “Yes, I hope so, too.”

As Rowan led her away, she clenched her hands at her side but kept the smile on her face, pretending that nothing was amiss.

He murmured at her side. “Best we return you now to Mag Bregha, my lady.”

“Return? We just got here.”

“Hardly. It has been two hours since we arrived. Besides, I fear it was a mistake to bring you here, although I was following the queen’s suggestion. We shall talk more of this on the way back.”

They left the palace, walking out into the cool night air, the purple sky bright with a full moon and countless stars. Upon seeing Rowan Leinster approach with the lady, the coachman drove the coach to the palace entrance.

Rowan took her arm to help her into the carriage, but she shrugged him off. Once inside the carriage, she turned on him. “Who do you think you are, my nursemaid? I was enjoying myself. Why did we have to leave so soon?”

“My lady, as I said in the first place, two hours have passed. But more important, I fear it

was a mistake to escort you here. So far, besides the queen and Prince Roric, only the Minister of State and I know that you had to leave Elegia and come here for your safety. Best we keep it that way.”

“So I’m to remain a prisoner in my room?”

“ I wouldn’t say that.” He sighed. “My lady, surely you, of all people, should realize the danger you are in. Why do you think you were taken from Elegia and brought here? The war faction in Fomoria would give anything to know your whereabouts. Then, too, you spoke of a distant claimant to the throne. I’ll wager he’s searching for you even now, or has ordered his henchmen to find you.”

Somewhat mollified, she kept silent. She admitted, if only to herself, that his words made sense. She realized, too, that he was trying to protect her, and she was only making his task more difficult. How she wished she could escape this constant supervision. She longed to return to her native country and turn the clock back, pretend her parents still lived. Since that was impossible, she yearned to return to her country and take the throne herself. She was now the rightful ruler, after all. How much longer could her country go on without a monarch? Surely there was much discontent in Formoria now, with no one to guide and help the people.

His bass voice snatched her back to the present. “How would you like to go horseback riding tomorrow?”

A warm glow of pleasure washed over her, erasing her earlier gloom. “I’d like that very much.”

After Allegra settled in bed that night, she relived her delight in the evening, recalling all the people she’d met. She chastised herself for her anger with Rowan, again aware he wanted only to protect her. Best she do nothing to hinder him. She saw him again in her mind’s eye, his tall, erect figure, his solicitude and consideration of her, as though he had no other obligations.