Fireblood (15 page)

We enter the spectator’s area, and Cecily thanks Devlan as she runs her hand along his arm, complimenting his strong physique. I plop down in one of the seats. Two other girls I met at the ceremony smile and congratulate me on my engagement to Sebastian.

“You have to admit,” one of them—Sabina—says, “there’s no better way one scopes out her future husband than by watching him perform the joust.” She nods her head toward the knights preparing to mount their horses.

“Agreed,” the girl sitting next to her says. She leans forward, sweeps her long dark hair aside, and looks at me. “Have you ever seen Prince Sebastian joust, Princess Zara?”

I can’t recall her name, so I smile. “Nay. I’m afraid I’ve not had the privilege yet.” I look at each in turn and say, “And please, call me Zara.” I turn toward Cecily to include her in this request. I at least appreciate her deviance from formalities.

“Oh,” the dark-haired girl says. “Then you’re in for a treat.” She points to one of the knights. “Prince Sebastian is mounting now.”

Cecily leans closer to us, dropping her voice. “And look at him mount.”

I spot Hawken first and squint, trying to see the rider better. I can tell that underneath the armor it’s Sebastian. He has an air about him, as if he’s aware all eyes are on him. He mounts Hawken with confidence, then lifts his hand toward the crowd. Cheers sound from the risers and the girls next to me fan themselves in mock-swoon.

Cecily looks up at the first knight. “Sir Devlan, will you be competing in any tourneys this year?” She bats her long, kohl-coated lashes.

Devlan nods once. “I will, Miss Cecily.” He rocks back on his heels. “I have a title to defend.”

She slaps her hands together. “That’s right. I nearly forgot you won the melee last season.”

“Yes.” Devlan’s eyes slip over me. “But it will be the only tourney I’m entered into.”

“For shame. I’d love to see you joust.” Cecily puckers her lips into a pout. “But, the melee
is
the most impressive. I’ll be cheering for you, Sir Devlan.” She gives him a wide, toothy smile.

I study Devlan for a moment. His eyes are trained on Sebastian now. I wonder if he roots for him to win or secretly wishes him unhorsed.

“Cecily,” I say, turning toward her. “Is it true Prince Sebastian has never been unhorsed?”

Her lips twitch into a smile as her eyes scan me, then she looks to the field. “It’s true. Although, more than just knights have tried to unhorse him.” A laugh tumbles from her mouth.

“Oh, Cecily,” Sabina chimes in. “You’re so wicked.” But she joins in with the laughter of Cecily and the other girl.

I scrunch my face. “What do you mean?” I ask, and they shoot me looks that imply I’ve said something stupid. I haven’t grown up in Court like them, nor have I been privy to gossip and the secret talk of the courtiers. But when they all turn their heads and stare down at Sebastian like animals tracking their prey, I regret my question.

Cecily dips her head toward me and lowers her voice into a whisper. “Sebastian is quite the flirt. Always with a girl on his arm. That is, until recently, of course.” She tosses me a quick smile, then returns her wide, hungry gaze back to the prince. “It became quite entertaining to watch girls throw themselves at him, all bidding for his affections, a tourney in itself.”

“Well,” I say, inwardly discounting that he’d simply stop with the courtesans due to our engagement, “mayhap he has other things on his mind. Like becoming a king.”

“Mayhap.” Her eyes are far away as she watches him. “But the way he rides…you just know a man like that knows his way around the bedchamber.”

I catch myself before my mouth falls open. I look back to Sebastian getting ready to charge: his back straight and strong, his lance in hand, the sun glinting off his armor. He’s handsome, there’s no question, and hearing he’s experienced is no shock. I assumed as much before having his and Cecily’s relationship confirmed. I can also picture him through Cecily’s eyes: a trophy to be won.

But when I look closely at Cecily—her eyes following his every move, her thin lips pressed together in anticipation, her creamy fingers laced together so tightly her knuckles turn white—I question if it’s not more than that for her. Whether or not she truly cares for him. Her tough exterior doesn’t match the hurt I observed as she spoke with him earlier.

“Don’t worry.” Cecily breaks the hushed spell falling over the crowd. “If any of them had been successful, you’d have heard about it.” She smiles sweetly. “These are not girls who can hold their tongues when such bragging rights are in play.” She winks.

As I squint at her, taking in the innocent look she has smeared on her face, I know
she
is staking her claim—her
bragging
rights.

Suddenly, her spite becomes clear. If I had been with a man only to be discarded—only to watch him betroth another—I’d be livid, too. Although, I believe I’d unleash some of that venom on the one who did the discarding.

I look at Sebastian lifting his lance at his side, majestic and poised for battle, and my stomach roils. Cecily may not be the most pleasant maiden I’ve encountered, but she doesn’t deserve to be used and cast off.

Sabina leans forward and waves her hand at us. “They’re about to start.”

Near the center of the long railing, a man wearing a burgundy vest and black hose waves a white flag. Sebastian kicks his heels, and Hawken gallops. I look down the rail at a knight on a dark brown horse, coming at the prince. I want to close my eyes, but I can’t help needing to see the impact. It’s like waiting for a horrible accident—and knowing it’s coming. You can’t look away.

Sebastian raises his lance at the last moment and it crashes into the knight’s shoulder. The knight sways a couple times before falling to the ground. His lance drops to the earth, un-shattered.

The crowd jumps to its feet and cheers its prince. I follow their lead and spring from my chair, clapping as Sebastian circles Hawken back around to the knight.

Sebastian dismounts and walks over to the fallen knight. I believe he’s about to offer him a hand, help him up in a show of good sport, until he bends and picks up the fallen lance. He flips the carved black wood and then uses the handle to strike the knight in the head.

My mouth opens. My hands freeze mid-clap. When the knight attempts to rise, Sebastian hits him over the head again, and the knight goes limp. I glance around at the crowd, expecting to see appalled expressions. Instead they cheer their prince on as if his actions are not only common, but expected of him.

I look back to Sebastian and stare wide-eyed. This cannot be the same man I talked with at the meadow, the one who spoke of changing the realm for the better. Nor the man who showed such tenderness to his mistress only moments ago. Is his father watching? Who is Sebastian putting on this show for? Is it a show?

“My, Zara.” Cecily leans into me and gives me a smile. “You’re either as stimulated by male aggression as I am…” She glances at Sebastian. “Or you’re in for a surprise in the bedchamber.”

THIRTEEN

A
fter the joust, I quickly part ways with the noble ladies and their ladies-in-waiting. Strangely, I find myself missing the company of my maid. Madity might have the nerves of a squirrel, but I prefer her conversation over the boring dribble of the noble blood of the court.

Once I relieve Devlan of his duties for the afternoon, I enter my room with a huff and plop down on the bed. He’s been with me every waking moment and, although I’m getting used to his constant lurking, I want him to have time to himself. When he’s not with me, what does he do? Where does he go?

Madity enters with a beaming smile, acknowledging me with a bow of her head before she fluffs one of my pillows. “Here, m’lady. Lie back and rest. You’ve had a busy week thus far.” She sighs and shakes her head. “Honestly, I don’t know what possessed you to want to ride those animals.”

I smile at her. I’ve gotten used to her constant fussing over me. Her presence is comforting, almost like having a parent again. I realize that, regardless of her station, she is fond of me. Knowing at least one person in this bleak, altered reality cares makes it slightly more tolerable.

“Madity.” I recline back on my bed. “Do you have any children?”

Her back straightens as she snaps upright. “Nay, princess. My position here at the castle would make having a family very difficult.” She walks to my armoire, favoring her bad leg, and begins hanging gowns. “Though I consider my charges very close to a family.” She gives me a warm smile.

I match her smile, and allow her words to settle over me in silence. A deep ache pulses in my chest, and I can’t help feeling the burden of yet another person I’ll be disappointing when I leave.

She gathers my mud-soaked dress and tsks. “I’ll have this cleaned, if it’s at all possible. May be one to simply dispose of.” She laughs, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh, I do have such work to look forward to with you, m’lady.” Shuffling over to my side, she smoothes my hair away from my forehead with the backs of her fingers. “But you’re worth it, my dear.”

The ache grows at her praise, and I have to look away.

After she resumes her tasks in the bathing room, I settle deeper into my coverlet. I’m nearly nodding off, my eyelids heavy with sleep, when my birthday gift from Devlan buzzes. It’s the first time my communicator has gone off, and I startle awake.

Grabbing it from my nightstand, I flip it over and over, trying to figure out how to use it. I press the button on the side. Nothing happens. Damn.

It crackles. “You have to talk while pressing the button, princess,” Devlan’s annoyed voice sounds over the device.

I hold in the button. “You could’ve told me this when you gave it to me.” I match his tone, but my face lifts with amusement. My cheeks tighten as I smile.

“The Prince requests a private dinner with you tonight.” A long pause follows. “Will you be joining him?”

My head spins. After watching his display on the field, I wanted time alone to piece together my thoughts. Although not having to suffer through dinner with the nobles is tempting. I enjoy mornings more than the evenings in the castle for this very reason.

“Princess?” Devlan’s concerned voice comes over the communicator.

“Yes,” I finally answer. “I’ll meet with him.”

The device crackles again. “I’ll come for you within the hour.”

I toss the communicator onto the coverlet, then slog to my armoire and change into a
white
gown—Sebastian’s favorite color. I swear, I would’ve slapped myself only a few days ago for doing so. But if I’m going to make a decision that will affect the rest of my life and impact others’ lives, I have to be sure. I have to know that if I never succeed in escaping—if I’m trapped here—I could at least rule alongside a friend. Could I help Sebastian fulfill his claims to want to change the realm?

My eyes close, and I see my father’s pale face. Blood drips from the side of his mouth as I wipe with a damp cloth. Cleansing and nursing him after knights of the Force worked him over for missing a production deadline. Mr. Levine’s cries in the arcade echo through my mind. The sight of his stomach being ripped open by the hook—

I grit my teeth, forcing the images away.

It was not Sebastian who ordered it done. It was his father, and soon he won’t be King when Sebastian takes the throne. The Round Table knights won’t be under King Hart’s command. I have to judge Sebastian on
his
actions alone.

After I finish applying makeup and fixing my hair in an intricate up-do—with Madity’s help, of course—I step into my matching white-satin slippers and straighten out the hem of my gown. I run my hands along the smooth fabric and spin, watching the clear jewels sparkle as they reflect the candlelight.

I stop and feel my naked thigh. If I’m truly to challenge myself, I have to leave the dagger behind. I need to feel its strength once more before I leave, though. After saying goodnight to Madity, I hustle over to the bed and slip my hand between the mattresses.

I touch the black hilt, running the tip of my finger over the smooth curve of the handle and the winged crest. Maybe if my father had explained its importance, I’d understand what he expected of me when he entrusted me with it. But as he didn’t and I’m left here on my own, I must make decisions for myself now. I need to choose for myself what is best.

Taking a deep breath, I brace myself and open the door. Devlan leans leisurely against the stone, his back to me. I clear my throat, and he pushes off the wall and turns about. Our eyes meet, and his usual hard expression wavers as his eyes slowly drift down my body. Heat creeps onto my face, and my cheeks tingle. I can’t read his expression, as it’s one I’ve never seen before.

He straightens to attention. After a long, awkward silence between us, his lips part. “Princess,” he finally says. “The prince will be speechless.”

I smile coyly. “Funny, Devlan,” I say as I walk past him. “I’d say he’s not the only one.” I glance over my shoulder, and his face flushes just the slightest.

He nods once. “You are correct.” He ushers me forward, sweeping his hand through the air. I’m surprised by the first knight’s rare show of emotion, and my insides flutter. “But remember,” he says as I turn and start walking ahead of him. “I’ve also seen you covered in mud.”

I bite down on my tongue, stopping myself from snapping a comeback. He never fails to elicit the worst in me. I swear, I was never combative until I met him.

I continue down the corridor, ignoring the smug look I know he now wears. At least he didn’t mention me straddling his horse.

Devlan directs me toward the atrium. I expect to find Sebastian waiting at our usual table, but when I enter the room is empty. He unlocks the giant glass door. It slides open and he leads me to the outside garden.

My breath catches, and my feet fail to bring me one step farther. Tea lights hang from branches of the fruit trees, tiny flames dancing inside the crystal, lighting up the enclosed area like stars in the night sky. The fountain is lit with a soft white glow, and the water sparkles as it cascades over the stone. In the center of the shrub-enclosed garden, tall and short candles flicker, decorating a table draped in white satin.