Silent Orchids (The Age of Alandria: Book One) (32 page)

An Excerpt from Chapter Three
of 

Slumber

(A Fade Novel)

A New Adult Fantasy Romance from Samantha Young

Molded by a tragic childhood, nineteen-year-old Rogan finds it extremely difficult to trust people. Now Haydyn, her best friend and the one person she does trust, is dying and only Rogan can save her.
Setting off on a journey to retrieve the plant that will cure Haydyn and subsequently the ills that will befall them all if she dies, Rogan is stuck in close quarters with a protector she distrusts above all others.
Wolfe Stovia.
The son of the man who destroyed Rogan’s family.
At a constant battle of wills with the handsome Captain of the Guard, Rogan just knows this adventure together will be fraught with tension. She never imagined, however, that the quest would be so dangerous… not least of all when she finds herself falling for a man she could have sworn was her no.1 enemy…

The city of Silvera grew quiet, parting as we moved through the crowds on the cobbled streets, the noise level hushing and then rising as the people gathered back together behind our entourage, like a wave crashing to shore behind us. 

I rode beside Haydyn on Midnight while she rode Sundown. Matai rode on Haydyn’s other side and three of the Royal Guard rode at our backs. Wolfe was atop his magnificent stallion in front of us, his eagle eyes watching the crowds as we made our way past taverns, apothecaries, inns, bakers and butchers and candlestick makers. The marketplace was in the massive Silvera Square, where people from the neighboring provinces came to sell their wares. Haydyn always had a particular interest in the artists and craftsmen of Raphizya and the beautiful glass works of Vasterya. 

“I’ve decided to hold a ball.” Haydyn smiled at me after waving once more to Silverians who bowed and curtsied as we trotted past. 

I raised an eyebrow at the unexpected idea. “A ball?”

“Hmm.” Haydyn grinned excitedly, seeming all her young seventeen years. “A ball. I’ll invite all the Rada and all the noblemen and women of every province. A way of showing our solidarity in an unsettling time.”

“A ball?” I still wasn’t convinced.

“I think it’s a fine idea, Princezna.” Matai smiled at her.

I sighed. “No one asked you, Lord Matai.”

“Rogan, be nice,” Haydyn tutted. “Anyway, Lord Matai is correct. It
is
a fine idea.”

My heart jumped a little at the determination in her voice and I felt hope blooming in my chest. Perhaps Haydyn was finally taking charge. And I might not like fancy balls but… it
was
a good idea. If only because it was
her
idea.

Her face fell when I didn’t respond. “Don’t you think it’s a good idea, Rogan?” She looked so worried. 

I cursed inwardly. Why did everyone’s opinion matter so much to her? She was as smart and capable as any of us fools whose advice she solicited. I sighed inwardly, wishing she’d remember she was fair and just and royal— she should not concern herself with my opinion, or anyone else’s for that matter. 

Instead I gave her a soft smile. “Lord Matai’s right. It’s a fine idea.”

Moment of anxiety over, Haydyn grinned cheerfully as we entered the marketplace. Again all went quiet at the sight of us. Gradually, however, as we trotted over to the stables the noise level rose again. 

“I want you to seek out the finest fabric for me, for my new ball gown, as well as the finest for yourself,” Haydyn commanded gently as Matai helped her dismount. I was so shocked by the request I dismounted without help, forgetting I wasn’t supposed to do that in public. But Haydyn very rarely used my magic and never for something as frivolous as fabric shopping.

Already my body was crackling inside, drawing me towards a fabric stall deep in the crowds of the square. “Fabric?” I queried softly.

“Hmm.” Haydyn nodded, smiling prettily at me. “We want to look our best for such an important event.”

“Not the key to world peace? Not the answer to shutting down a rookery or controlling rogue gypsies?
Fabric
?”

Haydyn sighed wearily. “Must I repeat it, Rogan, when we both know you’re being facetious?”

I shrugged. “Well, I just had no idea that the form of our fashion was so incredibly important to settling Phaedrian disputes.”

“More facetiousness. Lovely.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Away I go to seek and order the fabric.” I glanced between Matai and her. “What are you going to do?”

Haydyn gazed a little too adoringly at Matai. “Lord Matai’s going to escort me around the market while I choose some gifts to present to our guests at the ball.”

I threw Matai a look of mock horror. “Lord Matai, may I say now how much I have enjoyed knowing you, for I fear it will be the last time I look upon you. Death by boredom.” I winced.

He grinned at me. “I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“Well you don’t have to sound so put upon,” Haydyn sniffed.

I laughed, thinking about her well known generosity. “And just where are all these gifts going? We didn’t bring a cart?”

“I’ll borrow one. Or buy one. I am the Princezna.”

I almost rolled my eyes. She asserts her authority when shopping. Wonderful.

“Well, don’t let me keep you. Off I go. Shan’t be long.” I moved as fast as I could away from them and into the crowds before Haydyn demanded I take an escort. 

I breathed deeply of the thick smells of the market. It was a strange mixture of pungent sheep’s wool, beats, chocolate, oil, sweet meats, bread, perfume, paint… oh it was a fragrance of all the variety of the market. Usually, I hated the crowds, preferring my escape to be down at the cliffs some miles from the palace. I loved the peace and quiet of watching the surf of the Silver Sea crash against the cliff walls. For some reason it reminded me I was alive. But never alone. No. There was always a guard with me some way in the distance. Today, as I swept past people—some who recognized me, some who didn’t—calling out to me to buy their wares, desperate for what they assumed was a noblewoman to purchase something expensive from them, I loved the market. 

Because I was alone. All alone. 

Free.

I was quick on my feet, dodging persistent sellers, and hopefully any of the Guard who may have followed me. In no time at all I found the stall with the fabric that called to my magic. I saw it instantly. Velvet, the color of lapis lazuli, made from the finest silk in the textile factories in Ryl. Haydyn would look wonderful in it. I reached out to stroke the beautiful fabric when a hand clamped around my wrist.

“No, no, miss.” I looked up into the ruddy face of the market seller. “Not the right color for you, miss. Come see some of my silks.” He tried to pull me towards the more expensive material. I tugged at his grip but he was determined.

I grew irritated by his persistence. “Sir—” 

“With a face and figure like yours, you shouldn’t hide behind the heavy textures. Fine silks, miss, fine silks for you.”

I tugged again. Oh yes,
this
was why I hated the marketplace.

A large hand came down on top of the sellers, ripping it from my own and holding it tight. Both the seller and I looked up into the intimidating and angry face of Wolfe Stovia.

“You dare to lay your hands on the Princezna’s Handmaiden?” Wolfe growled at the man.

The seller blanched as he looked at me, recognition finally dawning. “Oh, My Lady, I meant no disrespect.”

Wolfe grunted and shoved the man away. “Lady or servant, I see you trying to forcefully coerce a woman again and you and I will have words.”

I’d never seen anyone look so ill, so green. “Apologies, My Lord. I was over excited. It won’t happen again. Apologies, My Lady.” His head bobbed up and down at me. 

Oh for havens sake. “I’m not a lady,” I huffed, angry at Wolfe for drawing attention to the situation and blowing it out of proportion. The overbearing lout. I glared at him. “You, sir, are a bully.”

Wolfe merely frowned at me. “And you, girl, are the Handmaiden of Phaedra and as such a lady. You are not to allow strange men to touch you.”

I curled my lip disdainfully. “I’ll allow a mountain man of Alvernia to touch me before I take advice from you,
Stovia
.” Dismissing him, agitated by his presence, his ruination of my pretense at freedom, I turned back to the seller. “I want three bolts of the lapis lazuli velvet and one bolt of the emerald silk chiffon.” I relaxed a little at having completed my task for Haydyn, but then my body hummed with energy again and I turned without thinking toward a stall some quarter of the way back into the middle of the market. The fabric that would suit me most was in there somewhere. Damn Haydyn. Damn being an Azyl.

I spun back on the seller. “Have the fabric delivered to the palace and ask for Seamstress Rowan. You’ll be paid well for your troubles.”

He nodded, doing this obscene half bow/curtsey thing that made me throw a growl in Wolfe’s direction. Turning sharply from them both to make my way to the fabric stall my magic called me to, I drew in a breath at the pleasant sandalwood scent of Wolfe as he fell into step beside me.

I stopped abruptly. “What are you doing?” I snapped.

Wolfe shrugged, refusing to look at me, refusing to leave. “Just one of the more unpleasant jobs of being Captain of the Guard. Protecting
you
.”

Pulling a face, I began walking again. “We are droll, aren’t we?”

“Some people think I’m charming.” He grinned flirtatiously and executed a graceful half bow to a passing tavern girl, who eyed him seductively over her bare shoulder.

“Some people don’t know any better.” 

“Ooh is that judgment I hear in the voice of the lady who was flirting with a mere stable boy this morning.”

I gritted my teeth. “Stable
Master
.”

Wolfe raised one annoying eyebrow. “As if that makes it any more palatable? You know he’s bedded every girl in the palace? You’re not special.”

I could feel my blood boiling under my skin, as it did whenever I was forced to be in the same presence as this man. I tried to take deep, calming breaths. I did. I really, really did. It didn’t work. “Who I choose to converse with is of no consequence to you, Captain Stovia. And may I remind you to whom you are speaking?” My answer was thick with condescension but he deserved it.

 “So there is a snob buried under all that ‘I’m not a lady, I’m not a lady, I’m just like everyone else,’ piffle?” He mocked.

“I do not speak like that. And I
am
just like everyone else.
Except
when it comes to you. You will talk to me like I’m royalty,
Captain
. As in… don’t speak to me at all.”

The usual cool and collected Wolfe stiffened at my insults, his face taut with anger. Our dislike was definitely,
definitely
mutual. “If you want to get snooty, Rogan,—”

I flinched at his use of my given name. He’d never called me Rogan before. Not to my face anyway. It had always been My Lady, despite my lack of nobility.

“—may I remind
you
that I’m the one with Lord before
my
name. Don’t speak to me like I’m dirt beneath your shoe.”

Arrogant beast
, I shook my head. Just like his demon father. I laughed humorlessly, a cold, brittle laugh that caused him to wince. “You don’t need to remind me who you are,
Vikomt Stovia
.” With that I veered from him, pushing my way through the crowds to escape him. I looked back to make sure he did not follow. He didn’t, however, I watched him nod at someone and then glance at me. Within seconds, Lieutenant Chaeron had pushed his way through the crowds to walk by my side, his hand on the hilt of his sword. I wanted to be annoyed at the immediate sense of suffocation his presence caused me, but then I recalled Jarvis’ words of warning and relaxed. There was a reason behind Haydyn’s idea for a ball. Quite suddenly I was glad for our trained Guard. We had never needed them before. 

But then there had never been crime in the different provinces before.

Samantha Young is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author from Stirlingshire, Scotland. She's been nominated for the Goodreads Choice Award for Best Author and Best Romance for her international bestseller ON DUBLIN STREET.
For more info on Samantha's adult fiction visit
http://www.ondublinstreet.com
For info on her young adult fiction visit
www.samanthayoungbooks.com

The Age of Alandria series

continues with

Book Two

Coming Fall 2013