Читать книгу A Royal Marriage - Rachelle McCalla - Страница 13

Chapter Five

John rushed outside looking frantically for Hilda or either of the guards. Were they safe? He could only pray they were. As for his safety, he’d quickly realized he’d be far safer outside than he was in Princess Gisela’s room. Even if the Illyrians had them surrounded, that was preferable to the dangers of getting close to the emperor’s daughter.

At what point had their discussion turned so coy? He reviewed their course of conversation as he trotted around the inn in search of Hilda or the plants she’d gone to find.

With chagrin, he realized he’d been afflicted the moment he’d entered her room and a thousand times more so when he’d taken her hand.

By the time he’d seen the dimples on her cheeks, he’d been utterly smitten.

Was he a fool? Her father was the greatest leader the Holy Roman Empire had ever known. Everyone knew Charlemagne was a zealous family man who adhered strongly to the tenets of the Christian faith.

John embraced those same tenets himself. So how had he let himself get so close to a woman who was promised to another? If they suspected him of any impropriety, he’d have the wrath of both Charlemagne and the Illyrians on his head—and on his kingdom.

“Hilda!” He spotted her making her way up from the river, huffing along carrying a burden he couldn’t identify in the darkness, though she acted as though it was much heavier than his herbs should have been.

“Sire,” the maid wheezed as she made her way up the bank. Her words came out in spurts between gasping breaths. “She took it down to the river to water it.”