Читать книгу The Dare Collection September 2018 - Stefanie London - Страница 15

CHAPTER SIX

Damien

“TO THE CHAPEL, THEN!” Benedict says with a flourish.

I readjust my robe and tie it tight. There’s being underdressed for an occasion and then there is flat-out ridiculous.

“He’s wearing a robe, my love,” Evangeline says, hooking her arm through Benedict’s. Not that I expected her to come to my rescue, but thank fucking hell someone did.

Juliet unbuttons her camel-colored coat to reveal the servant’s dress she wears beneath. It’s a plain gray smock of a thing with a white apron tied over it. But something about the way her hair falls over her shoulders gives me a sense of déjà vu. I shake it off. There’s no way that I would have made love to Nightgardin’s princess as she claims I did. I was inside one woman like that, and I ruined her wholly and completely. What kind of fool would I have been to make such a mistake twice?

“We’re quite the pair, are we not?” Juliet asks.

“It won’t make the cover of Vogue.” Kate giggles, then covers her mouth. “I think it’s perfect,” she says when she regains control. “You’ll both remember your wedding day for years to come.”

Benedict claps his hands. “We must go now,” he says. “Once Nightgardin realizes Juliet is missing—if they haven’t already—the Black Watch will be after her. And if they know about Damien—”

“Then there will be guns blazing by nightfall,” Nikolai says. “So get your ass to the chapel and save all of our lives, Damien. For once think of someone other than yourself.”

All eyes rest on me now, but I grit my teeth and stride out of the room, my shoulder brushing Nikolai’s as I do.

I can physically feel his rage rising off his body like steam.

“Wait up!” Juliet says, jogging to my side. We are now some haphazard-looking entourage heading out of the palace and across the grounds to the chapel.

“What?” I ask, and this stops her short. But when I keep walking, she starts to catch up again.

“What?” she asks. “What? We’re about to do something unheard of, and you don’t even want to know a little about the woman with whom you are going to spend eternity.”

I snort. “Eternity? This changes nothing, doll. It’s a piece of paper that you can use to prove to your parents that you aren’t...” The words taste bitter. “Aren’t our whore. That is how you said they spoke to you, yes?”

And though she’s been called the name unintentionally once by Nikolai and who knows how many times by her own parents, I’m sick at having to remind her of such a thing. I do not know this woman, but I wish her no harm. No discomfort. Perhaps this is all a game and she’s playing us for fools. But to what end? It doesn’t make sense—the idea of Nightgardin royalty waltzing onto palace grounds to simply use us for some deadly sport.

She falters as we make it through the chapel gates, and I instinctively grab her under the elbow. The brief touch sends an electric jolt up my forearm.

“Easy there, Princess,” I say. “You need food.”

She shakes her head. “I think I already proved that keeping food down isn’t exactly my forte right about now. Morning sick—”

X is beside her with a clean white bag just as the wave hits, and her body convulses.

“Morning sickness,” I say, finishing her sentence.

Once again, everyone stops and forms an arc around the princess. Soon to be my princess, I suppose.

“I’m fine,” she insists after I roll up the bag. “But we should probably skip the whole you may now kiss the bride part?”

She grins sheepishly.

X presses a hand to an ear, then whispers something to my father.

“Go at once,” the king says. “Keep whoever it is busy until we’ve done what’s meant to be done.”

X slips past us and onto the grounds.

“Everything okay, Father?” I ask, but he turns his attention to Nikolai.

“They’re here.”

Juliet gasps, and even I cannot feign disinterest.

“Nightgardin?” I say, teeth gritted. Because somehow I’ve brought this horror to Edenvale, and I don’t even remember doing it.

“Hurry!” Benedict says, and he ushers us down the aisle between the pews. “Rings!” he calls out. “There must be an exchange of rings!”

“Here!” Kate calls, rushing toward us. She removes both her earrings—two silver hoops just larger than ring size, both encrusted with brilliant diamonds—and places them in Benedict’s palm. “Consider it a loan until you buy her a real one.”

Juliet blushes.

“Look,” I finally say. “I’m doing what needs to be done for everyone involved. But let’s not pretend this is going to turn into some happily-ever-after. The entire continent knows the story of what happened the last time Edenvale and Nightgardin tried to procure peace via two young lovers.”

“They jumped to their deaths,” Juliet says softly.

I bow dramatically, ignoring the lingering pain in my ribs.

“Exactly!” I shout, triumphant. “Maximus and Calista were fools to think they could have any sort of happiness. So please stop pretending that we will be any different.”

Juliet clicks her tongue.

“What now, Princess?” I snap.

She holds her head high. “That’s not how you told the story to me,” she snaps. “When you took me to the Lovers’ Leap, you recounted their meeting—their instantaneous love—with a wistfulness I did not think a man of your reputation capable of. And for a foolish few nights, I let myself believe that maybe we could do what they couldn’t. But I realize now that the Damien I met doesn’t exist anymore. Maybe he never did.”

I open my mouth to deliver some sort of stinging retort, but Nikolai’s phone rings. He answers and hangs it up in a matter of seconds.

“Now, Benedict,” he says. “Marry them now or it’s all over.”

In a whirlwind of generic vows—something about sickness and health, loving and honoring—I’m suddenly sliding one of Kate’s earrings onto Juliet’s finger. She closes her hand into a fist to keep the dangling piece of jewelry in place.

“I do,” she says with a conviction I do not understand. How could she want this—want me?

But then I hear myself saying the same words as if I’m a bystander rather than one of the main participants.

That is what I am now, what I’ve been for years. A bystander in my own life—never fully participating or investing. Why would I? Everyone in whom I invest, I hurt beyond repair.

I killed my mother in childbirth.

I killed my first love, Victoria.

I hear the march of footsteps beyond the chapel door and know that I’ve sealed Juliet’s fate as well.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Benedict says as the doors burst open and four Nightgardin guards rush into the small church with twice as many Edenvale patrol on their heels. Benedict simply nods at our new guests.

Without thinking, I grab Juliet’s hand and step off the dais.

“Stand down,” I say. “All of you. By order of Damien Lorentz, Prince of Edenvale.” Then I squeeze my new wife’s hand.

“And by Juliet de Estel, Princess of Nightgardin and Edenvale.” She rubs her hand over her stomach. “And by order of protection of the dual kingdom heir.”

All guards stop in their tracks—and take a knee.

“Send word to my mother and father,” Juliet says with an authoritative tone, “that I carry the first-ever Nightgardin and Edenvale heir. Send word that I will not marry the Duke of Wartson because I have wed the youngest prince of Edenvale. And send word that any other act of aggression on Nightgardin’s behalf will not be tolerated.”

She flashes me a questioning look, and I nod. She is Edenvale royalty now as much as she is Nightgardin.

One of the guards sneers at Juliet, and in that moment I want to rip his face clear from his skull. But then they rise and retreat.

It’s all I can do to keep from applauding because—well—no one’s dead, yet.

“Good show,” I say under my breath to my willing accomplice.

Juliet stands tall and regal, every bit the princess she’s known to be.

“I wasn’t acting,” she says. “Now I think I’d like to be shown to my room. I’m exhausted.”

Then she strides down the aisle and out the door.

What the hell have I just done?

Juliet

It might be my wedding day, and my first as a princess in a new realm, but I’m still alone in a high tower. I sit in front of the vanity in my chambers, brushing and plaiting my shower-damp hair when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I call, setting down the silver-handled brush an attendant provided upon my arrival.

Two simple words, and yet my rush of gratitude makes it almost impossible to breathe. For the past two months, no one ever bothered knocking on my door. In fact, it often seemed the Black Watch, Nightgardin’s notorious secret police, took particular pleasure in barging in if I was trying to bathe or relieve myself. I was humiliated and vulnerable every waking hour.

My jaw tightens. I’ll never forgive my parents for that treatment. While I know my affair could have been punishable by death, I was foolish enough to think that they needed me. After all I’m their heir, what did they gain by hurting me?

The door swings open and in rush my fellow princesses of Edenvale, Kate and Evangeline. They are each carrying a basket covered with a white linen napkin.

“Hello.” My face relaxes into an uncertain smile. “Thank you for the visit.”

These women are still strangers, as is this entire kingdom, so I can’t help but look on every kind gesture with practiced wariness.

“We come bearing gifts,” Kate chirps, setting the basket on a table and removing the covering with a flourish. “Ginger scones from the kitchen and still warm. I heard you mention you haven’t been eating at the wedding and thought this might be calm enough for your digestion. Trust me, these are to die for.” She pats her slim hips. “I’ve gone up a size since living in the palace, but Nikolai loves my new curves.”

“And I brought you some art supplies.” Evangeline’s basket brims with adult coloring books and fine colored pencils sharpened to crisp tips.

“You came to attend to me yourselves?” I ask wonderingly. “Why not send servants to do such bidding?”

The two women exchange a short but troubled glance. “You’re our sister now. When you spoke those words binding yourself to Damien, they also bound you to us,” Kate says carefully. “And the child in your belly will be the cousin to any we someday carry.”

Evangeline takes Kate’s hand. “And trust me when I say that quick marriages run in the family,” she said. “We are both more or less newlyweds ourselves. Neither of our husbands had the, ahem...patience...for a state wedding that would require years of planning.”

“Nikolai compromised and promised his future coronation could receive the preparations.” Kate winks, flicking her fiery red hair over one shoulder. “That kept the royal event planners from having a conniption.”

I look at them, a knot forming in my throat. “But you both married men who love you, men who want you. It’s plain to see that Nikolai and Benedict walk on clouds around you. When Damien looks at me it is as if I am you-know-what on the bottom of his bedroom slipper.”

Kate sighs. “Neither of us had easy paths to love, but they were our journeys. You will make your own way to happiness.”

“We had happiness,” I choke. “Three perfect days. And then my family found me and Damien forgot everything.”

“It was beaten from him, Highness.”

We all turn in unison, startled at the masculine voice behind us. X straddles the windowsill.

“Where on earth did you come from?” I gasp, pressing a hand over my pounding heart.

“He always does that,” Kate answers wryly. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I just so happened to be installing an extra security system around Princess Juliet’s windows. We aren’t picking up chatter that Nightgardin is planning another kidnapping attempt, but we are taking no chances with a member of our royal family.”

There’s that word again.

Family.

I press my hand to my lower belly. “I appreciate your efforts on my behalf.”

X nods curtly. “I couldn’t help overhear a few words, Highness, so please pardon my interruption. Did you know when we first found Damien that he had forgotten a year of his life? He was beaten about the head and neck as badly as a man can be and still survive. The back of his head bore bruising that was an exact match for the butt of a rifle.”

I gasp, bile rising in my throat. Had Mother and Father ordered such viciousness unleashed? It troubles me to suspect the answer.

“As the swelling in his brain has decreased, his memories have slowly returned. Like he said on your arrival, we are down to just a few lost days.”

“Our days.”

He nods again with a sober expression.

“Perhaps...perhaps he doesn’t want to remember them.” My voice breaks into a million pieces. “Pardon me, but I’m very tired. It’s been a long journey and quite an eventful morning.”

“I will arrange for a doctor to visit in a few days’ time,” Kate says before leaving. “To put your mind at ease.”

“As for these—” Evangeline gestures to the coloring books “—I know they seem silly, but art has a way of healing things that seem broken.”

“Thank you.” And I mean every word. Their kindness is almost overwhelming. Such a rarity in my world.

The door clicks shut behind them and X moves to exit the window.

“Do you not have a harness?” I quiz, walking over. The drop is a good six stories to a flagstone courtyard.

“I used to be a free climber in the Dolomites. Don’t want my skills to get rusty.”

“And I don’t want you to fall to the ground and crack like an egg on my account.”

He tweaks one of my braids. “Then I better make you a promise that I won’t fall.”

A glimmer of humor ripples through me. I’d always wanted a big brother, and this man is almost the walking incarnation of the sibling I’d imagined.

“You don’t need to stay cooped up in the tower,” he says, swinging his feet out the window. “The grounds are extensive. There is the maze. The chapel. The wishing well. Find your new husband. Ask him to give you a tour.”

I cross my arms, hugging myself close. “My new husband doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“For what it’s worth,” X says, doing a quick, complicated maneuver that has him dangling from a near-invisible fingerhold on the castle wall, “I believe your story. That something sparked between the pair of you those missing days.” He frowns. “Damien has been lost most of his life. He’s weathered many storms, more than any man should for his still-short years on this earth. Perhaps you are his light in the dark.”

“You care about him.”

“I’ve always been a sucker for the underdog.” A troubled look flashes over his face and disappears. “Plus I made a promise long ago to look out for him. And I don’t intend to break it.”

“A promise to whom?” I ask, but he is already climbing down, ducking around a carved gargoyle and leaving me with more questions than I had when I arrived.