Black Rose (29 page)

           
“It’s okay.” Phillip continued to stroke Mara’s left cheek. “Breathe, Mara. Just
breathe.”

           
She did as he commanded, closing her eyes as she drew a series of deep breaths,
feeling her heart begin to slow. Then she climbed unsteadily to her feet and
called to the men guarding the outside doors of the chamber. “Help the Sub-Captain,”
she ordered. They came in quickly and assisted Phillip to his feet before
beginning the long climb to his chambers. Every moan that escaped his lips
struck another blow to Mara’s exhausted form as they moved the injured man up a
sea of seemingly endless stairs to his private chambers. They called for the
healers and settled him as comfortably as they could on his large bed. After
the injuries were properly dressed, one of the healers moved toward Mara. When
the woman’s pale hand reached for her left cheek, Mara jerked back. 

           
“Forgive me, my Lady. I was attempting to assess your injuries.”

           
“My what?” It was only then, as her hand moved to the side of her face, that
Mara realized that her skin had been splattered with Phillip’s blood. “It’s not
mine.”

           
An hour later, Mara was walking down the ancient halls to the hidden hot
springs which the courts had been built around. As this particular spring had
been set aside specifically for those of the highest rank, Mara was relieved to
find it deserted. She removed her saturated clothes and stepped into the
searing water, which turned pink as she sank into its depths. She slowly
scrubbed her pale skin, cleansing away all remnants of her betrayal. She leaned
down, dipping the dark strands of her long hair into the water, writing more
blood from the strands.  She kept her face in the searing heat until she
could stand it no longer and arose gasping for air. 

She
moved to the side and seated herself on the polished stone as the colored water
began to clear. Her body shuddered in spite of the hot water and she sank
further down until she was immersed to her neck. She had no idea how long she
sat there longing for the silent tranquility which she knew would never come.
 

Then
the moment was broken as a young girl entered the chamber. With mousey brown
hair and large green eyes, the girl gave a small curtsy as she paused by the
pool. “Forgive me, my Lady,” the child said. “Captain Edward has summoned Lord
Phillip to his chambers. I was told that the order was to be given to you
instead.”

Mara
nodded before motioning to the pile of cloth lying on the opposite side of the
pool. The girl grabbed one from the top of the pile without being asked and
brought the cloth to Mara. She rose from the water, wringing as much from her
hair as possible. She then ran the rough material over her body for several
moments. Having planned to retire for the evening, Mara had brought only a
thin, low-cut gown of dark silk which clung to her damp skin. She ran a comb
quickly through the wet strands of her hair, not bothering to pull it back as
was her custom. Pulling a matching silk robe over her shoulders, Mara walked
from the chambers and into the cool night air. 

It
was a short walk to the Captain’s chambers. When she arrived it was to find
Brendan standing in front of the large doors. “I’ve been summoned,” she
informed him.

Brendan
opened the door without question and announced her arrival. She stepped through
the large doors and walked quickly towards the center of the room where Edward
stood a few paces in front of the large bed. “Mara?”

“Forgive
me,” she stated, “but Phillip is indisposed at the moment. He asked me to
answer you in his stead.”

Edward
did not question this, but instead gave a single nod. “Members of the Royal
family from the Muir Court will be calling upon the Queen next week.”

“Yes,”
Mara replied. “I am aware of the upcoming visit.”

“We
need to increase the Queen’s security during the visit. Ensure that one of the
Sub-Captains are with her at all times. Perhaps we could add one or two of the
newer members as well? It would give them a chance to be on a Royal detail.”

“No,”
Mara responded too quickly. “I do not believe that we need to add any more new
personnel to the regular guard detail at this time. Those assigned can handle
the Royal visit.”

“Are
you sure it will be enough?”

“Yes,”
she replied, a hint of anger beginning to slide into her voice at having her
assessment questioned. “The Queen’s regular guard detail should be more than
adequate.” How could Edward possibly even consider suggesting placing anyone
else within the Queen’s line of vision?

“And
you or Phillip will remain with the Queen?”

Aren’t
we always,
she thought silently. Aloud she said simply, “Yes.”

“At
all times?”

Her
anger returned more fiercely than before. “Unless you would like to take a
shift for once?”

“What?”

Mara
attempted to reign in her words. She closed her eyes to clear her head, but
instead found herself standing in the torture chamber, bringing the whip down
upon Phillip’s back, tearing the flesh from his bones. Her eyes opened and gave
in to her anger. “I said, unless you would like to take a shift for once.”

Edward
straightened and his eyes began to narrow. “I do not care for your tone, Mara.
Do I need to remind you that you are speaking to your Captain?”

“Exactly!”
she interjected. “My
Captain
. Yet you want
me
to re-organize the
guard. Me to guard the Queen
you
are sworn to protect. When is the last
time you placed yourself in a role of leadership, Captain?” She drew a breath
but the words continued to tumble forth. “This guard is crumbling. The men are
screaming for leadership and everyone can hear them but you! They are calling
for you, begging for you, spilling the very blood from their veins to keep the
Queen from wondering where you are.” Anger pushed her forward. “Why don’t you
take the shift yourself!”

“How
dare you!” Edward shot back. “I am your Captain and you will treat—”

“Then
be the Captain, Edward!” she all but screamed. “Be the Captain! Open your eyes
and lead them!”

“I
am doing the best I can.”

“Not
good enough!” Mara took a step closer, narrowing the distance between them.

“They
need you to lead them, Edward; because I cannot. I am not the Captain, you
are.  These men—your men—need you now. I’m sorry.” Her voice grew softer.
“I’m sorry she died and I’m sorry I wasn’t there when it happened. I will carry
her death to my grave. But, Edward, I cannot do this anymore. I need…” She drew
a ragged breath as her anger faded to a plea. “They need you.” Her body began
to tremble. “I need you.”

He
reached forward and placed his large hands just below her slender wrists,
taking them firmly within his grasp. He pulled her forward, moving her to a
seated position upon the bed. He towered over her from the seated position.

“Edward…”
But her words fell silent as he reached down, placing a finger under her chin
and raising her gaze to meet his. His eyes searched her features with a haunted
expression and she felt her words become trapped within her throat. “Please,”
she managed to whisper. “Help me.”

He
moved his hand to the side of her face, running the tips of his fingers lightly
over her pale skin. “Edward,” she whispered his name. His fingers traced their
way slowly down her cheek and, brushing back several strands of her dark hair
before tracing the outline of her full lips, parting them slightly as he
continued to stare down at her. 

Then
his hand slid lower, down her neck to pause at the hollow of her throat and
Mara wondered if he could feel the frantic beat of her heart. She closed her
eyes as his hand slid even lower, reaching the edge of her silk dress. He
traced the silk edge to her shoulders where he suddenly jerked the outer robe
from her shoulders, exposing even more of her pale skin. 

“Edward,
don’t,” she protested, but her voice was lacking the conviction she had hoped
to convey. He froze at her words, but did not pull back. He searched her body
with nothing but with his gaze, which slid slowly up and down her still form as
she sat motionlessly on the large bed, the light of the flames illuminating her
pale skin. He reached forward, capturing her slender wrists in his hand and
pushed her down on the bed. Edward pushed with such strength that Mara knew she
would need to forcefully resist to break his hold.  She allowed him to
push her down, the satin of her gown sinking into the thick blankets.

           
“Please.” Her voice again arose soft and insecure. “Edward,” she whispered, not
knowing if she was pleading for him to stop, or to never let her go.

           
He moved his hand towards her left cheek and traced her features with the tips
of his fingers. Her high, blushed cheeks, her sharp chin, the hollow of her
throat. His fingers explored her possessively as his gaze bore through her
violet eyes, directly into her soul.

           
Mara’s heart was beating frantically under his possessive touch. His finger dug
against the racing pulse in the side of her neck, all the while, keeping his
other hand wrapped tightly around her wrists which fit easily inside his large
grasp. She gazed as his other hand trailed lower, sliding along the edge of her
low-cut gown. 

           
Resisting the overwhelming urge to completely abandon herself to Edward’s
control, Mara parted her lips to protest his invasion of her body, when
Edward’s hand dipped lower to cup her breast through the thin, satin material.
She gasped at the touch, nerves awakening which she had previously thought long
dead. Her heart increased its already rapid pace as his hand slid under the
dress, slowly ripping the material that had clung to her body.

           
Mara squirmed at the sound of the ripping material, causing Edward to increase
the pressure on her wrists to a point that pulled a slight cry of pain from her
lips. She attempted to rise, but Edward was having none of it, and ripped her
gown further, completely exposing her breasts to his wild gaze. There was
something primal in his movements, a need which boarded upon desperation; and
one which Mara was unable to refuse. Every protest was driven from her mind as
Edward’s hand explored her exposed flesh, his fingers sliding in circles around
the soft tissue before enclosing upon her hardening nipples. 

Her
body jerked at his touch, her nerves set aflame by the touch of his skin
against her taut flesh. His fingers tweaked the nipple of her right breast,
drawing a gasp from deep in her throat. He slid his body further on the bed,
pressing his weight against her own, trapping her more firmly against the bed.
He dipped his head and pressed her mouth against unresisting lips before
finally releasing his grasp on Mara’s wrists. She raised her arms to wrap them
around Edward’s neck as he leaned forward and offered a deep, passionate kiss.

Her
breathing became labored and her body tightened. She kissed him harder, pulling
a low moan from the man laying above her. 

Then
Edward pulled back enough to stare into her violet eyes. In a deep voice that
was tinged with the promise of all that was to come, Edward spoke a single
word: “Liza.”

The
sound of Liza’s name brought Mara’s passion to a halt. Of course Edward would
want to take her to his bed—Mara, the spitting image of a dead Princess. How
could she have thought for a single moment that it was not for her but for Liza
alone to whom Edward had ultimately given his heart? Liza, who his fingers had
once held so tenderly. Liza, for whom his very heart had once beaten—his long
lost love.

Edward’s
hand slid back toward Mara’s full breasts, but all the passion that had flowed
through her so magnificently only moments before had vanished. Edward paused
and looked down upon Mara’s now still form as realization dawned. Mara saw the
look as one of confusion that quickly turned to horror as his gaze travelled
from her bruised wrists to her torn dress. He shook his head as though in
disbelief and finally said, “Mara?”

Mara’s
heart broke even further at the confused tone which emanated from Edward’s
voice. Tears threatened her eyes, but she did not allow them to fall. 
Instead she drew a deep breath and said, “Yes, Edward.  It’s me; it’s
Mara.”

“Oh
my Gods! What did I almost—” He searched her gaze.

“It’s
okay, Edward,” she said softly, moving her hand to his left cheek, gazing up at
him from where she lay. “It is okay.”

“No.”
He shook his head, the frustration slowly filtering through his voice. “Why…why
am I constantly hurting you? Why is she gone? Why?” He drew a ragged breath.
Mara moved her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down against her. His
weight was almost crushing, but she ignored this, instead holding him tightly
against her.

“It.
Is. Not. Okay.” He spoke through clenched teeth. His body trembled against
hers. “She’s gone. She’s just…” He drew a deep breath. Mara twisted her arms to
the best of her ability to run her fingers through the edge of Edward’s dark
hair. 

He
pulled back at her touch and rose to a seated position on the side of the bed.
He gazed down at her, his eyes pouring over her exposed flesh. “Oh Gods, what
have I done? I almost…” He found her gaze. “Mara, I…”