Читать книгу Dark One Rising - Leandra Martin - Страница 5

King Randor Breslin of Aaralyn, and his son, Kevaan Reese, looked down on the courtyard from a second- story window, watching the display of men-at-arms below. Two figures moved around the fighting arena with fury, feet kicking up the dirt underneath them, attacking and parrying each other’s onslaught with refined skill. One was large and strong, with fully defined muscles, the other small and quick, looking too frail to possibly win this match. The show was lengthy, but they were tiring, and soon a winner would prevail. The smaller figure finally beat his opponent, knocking the sword from his hand. The figure pulled off the safety helm and loosened a thick mane of golden red hair. She looked upon her opponent with a disarming smile. The other figure picked up his sword, bowed to his victor and walked away.

The king looked to his son and shook his head. “Again? That’s the second opponent this week.”

“She really is quite good,” Kevaan replied with a proud smile. “Everyone says so.”

King Randor left his viewing place at the window and returned to his chair, sitting down with a sigh.

“I know. I constantly hear this. My men are starting to feel inadequate.”

“Well, no one has forced them to accept her challenges. Besides, I think they let her win most times, so they really have no need to feel less than the king’s best.”

“That’s not the point, Kevaan. I have asked her to stop doing it, but of course, she doesn’t listen to me. She does what she wants, when she wants. I’m at my wits end. I don’t know what to do with her anymore.”

“I guess she’s too old now to put over your knee,” Kevaan said smiling again.

“I’m glad you find this so amusing, my son. This is your fault you know.”

“My fault?”

“You were the one to insist she learn the arts to protect herself.”

“There were lots of times when both of us had to be away. I just wanted to make sure she’d be safe.”

“That was a noble gesture to a sister from her brother, but this is why I have guards, to protect my loved ones.”

“I thought it was practical at the time.”

“But look to where it has led. She is not a normal girl.”

“She’s never been a normal girl. Not since birth. You said so yourself. The gift of an Elvin made sword does not go to a normal girl. Then when mother died, she had no role model to guide her into womanhood. She had only you and I and a palace full of men, no woman to teach her. We did our best, but we as men can only do so much.”

“We have a lot of female servants to help her.”

“Yes, but they only knew how to serve her, not to teach.”

“I guess we were too busy to notice; now it’s too late.” King Randor shook his head in dismay.

Kevaan sat down next to his father and placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. “She has turned into an exotic beauty, and she knows how to act like a princess when necessary, whether it’s what she prefers or not. We didn’t fail completely. It will be alright, father.”

“All the other women her age have been married for quite some time and are nursing babies, some on their second by now. Twenty-one is too old to be unmarried. Time after time I’ve told her she must choose a husband, but she refuses. I even gave her the option to find someone of noble blood that she loved, but even that didn’t work. Now my options have run out, and I’m left with only one.”

Kevaan looked concerned. He knew what was coming and was sad for his sister. He loved her, but he knew this time he would not be able to get her out of it as he had always done in the past. This time she was on her own.

“I must choose a husband for her. It’s time for her to marry.”

“She won’t like this, father. You know she will refuse.”

“She will have no choice this time. I have given her plenty of time. I have been patient, putting her needs for love first, but she’s deliberately defied me. She has given me no choice. She will marry whether she likes it or not, to whomever I choose.”

“And have you chosen?”

“I have, but I would rather wait to reveal it. I want to surprise her with a celebration for her twenty-first birthday. Then after the celebration, I will tell her. I want her to be happy during the party, not worried about what is coming. I expect you to make sure she attends. It’s an honor I want to bestow on my only beloved daughter.”

He wanted to argue that the party itself would not make her happy, but he didn’t. “Alright, father, but you will tell me first, correct?”

Randor waved his hand in dismissal. “Yes, yes, one thing at a time. Party first, then nuptials. I have made all the arrangements. You just get her there.”

“Yes, sir.”

***

Melenthia sat next to her father, finishing her meal as she looked around the room at all the nobles and their families that had come for her birthday. She had tried to make her father understand that she didn’t want a birthday party, especially when no one on the guest list were friends of hers; she had none. She didn’t want strangers at her party, people who didn’t even like her, but her father insisted and would hear nothing of it. She looked back on that day a week before.

“These are people you have grown up with, Melenthia, people who have known you all your life.”

“They know you, father, and Kevaan. They refuse to know me, the real me. They don’t even like me.”

“That’s preposterous, Melenthia. Of course they like you. You’re their princess.”

“I know what people say about me. They may sing praises about me to you, but behind your back is a different matter.”

“Maybe if you would try to be more demure and princess-like, they would respect you more.”

“It’s not those people that I want or need to respect me, but those that live in this realm, those that look to us for protection and guidance.”

“We are dropping the subject, Melenthia. It’s your twenty-first birthday and you will not embarrass me by not attending your own party. I expect you to mingle and dance and talk.”

She had swallowed back another retort and suffered the week in silence. Only to Kevaan did she make her plight.

“This is the real reason you rode in from Charbonneau, to bully me into something he wants me to do. He knows I can’t say no to you.”

“I will not bully you. I will only ask nicely.”

“And if I still refuse?”

“I will try harder.”

She changed the subject. “He doesn’t understand me. He expects me to be someone I’m not, someone he wants me to be. I can’t pretend to be what I’m not. And I absolutely dread having to dance with some nobleman who will paw at me and expect me to giggle and bat my eyes at him. I don’t want to have any part of this!” She stamped her foot and scowled.

“Melenthia, I know you hate parties, but it’s something father wants to give you, to let you know how much he loves you. He wants to show you off as the beautiful and graceful lady we both see you as.”

“He cannot love me if he refuses to really know me, the real me.”

Kevaan kissed her on the forehead and smiled at her. “Just eat and dance a dance or two with a man of your choosing. Then when the festivities start going full steam, bail out and escape to your rooms. Everyone will be too drunk by then to notice.”

“Father will notice.”

“I’ll deal with father. Please, Melenthia, for me.” He hated himself for pushing her, knowing well that more bad news would follow this dreaded event, but he had promised his father he would make sure she attended. “Promise me an hour, two at the most. If anyone does anything you do not like, which I know is bound to happen, I will deal with them. I promise.”

She looked up at him, lips pursed, glaring at her sibling, the man she loved. She gave up. Her father was right, she could never say no to Kevaan.

“Oh, very well. I’ll do it only for you.”

“That’s my girl.” He kissed her forehead again. He stood from the bench he was sitting on beside her and glanced over his shoulder as he was walking away. “Wear the green velvet dress. It’s father’s favorite. You’ll have all the men eating out of your hand and all the women matching the color with envy.”

She grimaced and went into the keep behind him.

Now, here she was, dressed in the green velvet dress, with long gathered sleeves tied at the wrists, the skirt covered in pearl accents, just as Kevaan had suggested and watching men leer at her from afar. She had suffered through the receiving line, nodding and smiling congenially at all the pompous nobles who came to bring her good cheer on her special day. She knew they all thought the same thing. A twenty-one year old unmarried spinster. If her eyes could shoot arrows, everyone in the room would be dead.

She had promised her brother that she would give it an hour or two, and she had started counting down the minutes as soon as she entered the hall. Dinner was almost over and people would be taking to the dance floor soon. She frowned inside. She hated that the most. It was the perfect opportunity for the men to touch her inappropriately and whisper in her ear, without anyone the wiser. As soon as the remnants of the meal were cleared, she would try to slip out without anyone noticing.

She waited a half hour more, then as her father was having a conversation with an earl to his right, she slipped away. She was almost to the door when a hand grabbed her shoulder, not roughly, but firm. She turned to whoever was foiling her escape and looked up into the face of the Duke of Xenos. He was dressed in gray hosen, with a black leather sleeveless doublet and white ruffled shirt. He had black leather riding gloves tucked in his belt, and his black leather boots were polished. He smiled down at her in a charming way, but she knew better. She did not smile back and said nothing.

“Running off so soon, Your Highness. The festivities have only just begun.”

“I’m not feeling all that well, Your Grace. I feel I should lie down for a while.”

His smile turned to a sneer, his dark eyes piercing through her. “I’m sorry to hear that, Your Highness. Maybe all you require is a bit of soothing from a gentle hand.” He rubbed his fingers up her arm and then touched her cheek. A shiver went up her spine, but it was not from pleasure. She took a deep breath, calming herself. She knew all about him. He was callous and crass and quick to temper. He had plenty of mistresses, but none that kept him satisfied enough to marry. She knew he was looking, and she had heard his aim had been on her for some time. She refused to let him shake her.

“Tempting as that is, My Lord,” she answered pleasantly, “I believe sleep is all I require.”

“It’s impolite to leave your own party before well wishers have had time to celebrate you further with dances and toasts. Perhaps a drink or two would alleviate your ills, and you could find your strength once again to dance. I would be honored if you would permit me to lead you around the floor for a tune, or two.” He hooked her arm with his and tried to steer her back to the open floor of the hall. She pulled back. “I don’t wish to insult you, My Lord, but I don’t wish to dance with you, and I do not feel well enough even if I did.”

He leaned over so that he could get close enough to whisper in her ear. “There are some who think that you are just a tease. A woman who will lure men in with her charms and then push them away once they are ready to satisfy you. I think that you just haven’t had the touch of the right man yet. You will not be able to hide behind your skirts forever, Melenthia. Soon they will be pushed up and someone will have you, whether you want it or not. Teasing only causes men to get angry, and someone, one of these days, will take what they want. You have been unspoiled for too long. I imagine you are getting hot now, just by me talking about it.” He moved his hand between her legs, the layered skirts of her dress the only protection from his touch. He moved his other hand down her arm and slid it toward her waist. He swung it around her body and pulled her in to him and held tight so that she could not get away. “Can you feel it? I want you in the worst way. I’m already, just being next to you, starting to feel the heat rise in me. I could take you here and now if we were not in public. Maybe I should accompany you upstairs to your chamber and take away whatever ills you might be feeling. I think your fever is your desperate need to have a man satisfy you.”

She moved her free hand and slapped him. He backed away, but only a little, then grabbed her again by the arm, this time hurting her.

“Don’t tease me, Your Highness. I don’t like it.”

“You came on to me when I only wished to retire for the evening, by myself.”

He squeezed harder, pressing his leg up against her.

“Let go. You’re hurting me.”

“I will have you, Melenthia, one way or another. You can either give yourself willingly to me, or I will just take you. It’s your choice of course, but willingly will get you the least hurt.”

Kevaan glanced her way from across the room. He saw the look on her face and the one on Fallon’s. He excused himself from the conversation he was having and came over to her quickly, now trapped in the doorway by Fallon’s body. He placed a firm hand on Fallon’s shoulder and leaned in. “Is there something going on here I should know about?”

“No. This is a conversation between me and Melenthia. It doesn’t concern you, Kevaan.”

“It does if your conversation becomes threatening to my sister.”

“Do you feel threatened, Melenthia?” he asked her, giving her a warning glare and pressing his leg further against her.

“Just a bit uncomfortable, My Lord. I’m sure you mean no harm.”

Fallon released his pressure on her leg. “Of course not.” He looked at Kevaan. “See, Your Highness, she’s fine.”

Kevaan looked at his sister. She had an unreadable face, but he knew her too well. He asked her casually, if only to steer the conversation back to a less menacing tone. “Where are you off to, Melenthia?”

“I don’t feel very well this evening. I’m just a bit woozy. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably from the excitement of the evening.”

“Well, why don’t you go upstairs and lie down. I’ll give father your apologies.”

“Thank you, Kevaan, I will do so. Good night.” She curtsied to Fallon. “Your Grace.”

Fallon let go of her completely and allowed her to pass, leering at her until she disappeared around the corner. He turned to Kevaan again, seething.

“Do not interfere in my business again, Kevaan.

“I will interfere again if you forget your manners a second time.”

“You cannot threaten me.”

“Not a threat, a warning. Where my sister is concerned, I will interfere all I like until you get the message that when she says no, she means no. You do anything to make her uncomfortable again, you will deal with me, and I’ll have more than just a warning next time.”

Fallon said nothing. He just glared at him and walked away. No one said no to him. He had his sights on Melenthia, and he would have her, by force if necessary. He didn’t think it would come to that, however. He had made steps toward achieving his goal. She would soon learn her place. Her curvaceous body and those full lips would soon be his, and he looked forward to it.