Blood of Kings, page 19
‘Things have changed,’ he told her, refusing to allow her to tug her hands free of his grip. ‘I’ve fallen in love with you.’ He saw her eyes open in surprise at his admission but forced himself to continue. ‘Which is why I will no longer allow you to put yourself in danger.’
‘You think threatening to tie me up is how your treat someone you love?’
‘Depends on the situation, I guess,’ he said with a small grin, enjoying her narrowed glare. ‘My oath as a Royal Guard was to serve and protect the royal family. My oath to you is to love and protect you, to lay down my life if necessary and do whatever I have to do to keep you safe. I take my oaths very seriously in case you haven’t figured it out yet.’
He knew he’d managed to touch something inside of her when he saw the tiniest hint of a smile and her eyes softened ever so slightly.
‘I had noticed. The whole sacrificing your body thing has been done completely selflessly.’
‘My body, mind, and soul,’ he added, lifting her hands up to kiss her fingertips softly.
‘Garrick, I—’
‘If you want to help your parents, then we need to move now.’ He didn’t want her to finish what she was going to say. If she told him they couldn’t ever be together, he wasn’t sure he could bear to think about it. If she was going to try and beg him to let her return to the castle, he wasn’t sure he had the strength if she tested him to say no to her. Best to just play the bully and push on.
He wasn’t sure how he was going to break the rest of the news to her, that her father wanted her to remain behind at Armeania with her sister. He thought maybe choosing his battles might be the prudent thing to do at this stage. He’d leave that till later...like when he was about to leave, later. He ignored the clucking noise he heard inside his head, but it was a braver man than he, who willingly placed his testicles on the chopping block twice in one day. He’d already bared his heart once this morning.
WYNTER
The ride to Brica’s home was not an easy one; the rugged terrain of the mountains slowed their progress and kept their stride uneven. Armeania was a beautiful country, but hostile in many places—both in landscape and population—but they were a loyal and trusted friend of Pairyon and with the alliance of her sister’s marriage, made them a safeguard that her father was wise to have foreseen.
Wynter hadn’t seen her sister since her wedding day. It had been a strained affair and she’d left as soon as it was done. She loved her sister dearly, but they were as different as night and day. Brica’s whole life had been dedicated to becoming Queen. As the eldest child, she would have taken the throne as successor to their mother; however, marrying into another kingdom was always going to be the most likely way to achieve her goal. When Wynter had found out who her sister had agreed to marry, she’d been horrified.
‘But the man is old enough to be her grandfather!’
‘He’s not that old,’ her father had dismissed gruffly. ‘I’ve known Harmend Armeania for a long time. He’s a good man.’
‘But he’s old!’ Why wasn’t anyone else disturbed by this? Wynter turned to her mother, hoping for some kind of support, but she hadn’t found it.
‘Your father and I, have thought long and hard over this request. Your sister was given a choice; no one has forced her into this marriage. We would never force any of our children into a marriage they did not want.’
Wynter’s disbelieving gaze fell on her sister who sat quietly in her chair, her expression calm and serene. ‘You can’t be serious. You can’t be in love with this man?’
‘I am very fond of Harmend. I’ve spent the summer at his palace and we’ve discovered we have a great deal in common. He’s a kind man who will make a gentle husband.’
‘But he’s old!’
‘Enough, Wynter. This is no concern of yours. It’s your sister’s decision and so be it,’ her father snapped.
‘It’s not right. You’re giving up your freedom to marry for some alliance between countries.’
‘I’m happy to do what is needed of me to ensure the peace and well-being of our kingdom. It’s you who forgets who she is and where she comes from,’ Brica snapped.
‘I’ve seen that there is more to life than what’s inside these castle walls. Come back with me...see what it’s like before you make such a big decision, please, Brica.’
‘I’m not like you, Wynter,’ her voice softened as she stared at her younger sister. ‘I have no interest in faraway places and things that are unfamiliar,’ she paused as though searching for a way to explain. ‘Everyone has something special about them. You have your adventurous streak, your love of nursing and your dreams,’ she added, lowering her voice. ‘I know you dislike your dreams, but they make you special. The boys are natural fighters; they have father’s confidence and are both certain of where they want to be in life...even Fern’s exceptional. She picks up languages with ease and reads and writes well above her age. I have nothing. I have no talents to speak of; I have no calling. I’m...’ She paused, seeming at a loss to explain herself.
‘You’re kind and patient and beautiful. Everyone loves you, Brica. You do have talents; you just haven’t found them yet.’
Her sister shook her head sadly. ‘This is my chance to do something important, Wynter. This is my destiny. I can make sure our kingdom is strong and protected for the future. Harmend is older than me by quite a few years,’ she agreed quietly. ‘But he is kind. He’s also handsome,’ she added a little shyly. ‘He makes me feel...special.’
Wynter considered her sister silently. She sounded sincere, there was no doubt about that, but there was still something fundamentally wrong with sacrificing her entire life at such a young age to a man so much older than her.
Wynter had grudgingly accepted that there was no more she could say or do to talk her sister out of her decision and so had sat through the wedding and following feast holding her misgivings inside for the sake of family harmony. Perhaps she had been wrong; maybe it had just been her youthful expectations which had been offended by such an arrangement. At eighteen, everyone over the age of thirty had seemed ancient. Her sister had been, from all accounts, a happily married woman now for six years, so clearly her misgivings had been for no good reason.
Despite her concerns over the impending march on Pairyon, Wynter was very much looking forward to seeing her sister again. She would no doubt be eating humble pie, but as long as her sister was happy, she would do so without complaint.
It was just on dark when they made camp for the night. They would reach Armeania by early the next afternoon if they continued at this pace, and it couldn’t come fast enough for Wynter. Her muscles were aching from the long hours in the hospital back at camp. Briefly, her mind wandered to the previous horse ride she’d taken with aching muscles—although they had been an entirely different set of muscles, sore for an entirely different reason.
She let out a shaky breath as flashes of memory sparked a shot of red hot desire through her body.
Beside her, Garrick turned his head and sent her a sizzling look that had her clutching the reins tightly. Oh God, he knows. She clenched her jaw tightly as she fought off a blush which began moving up her neck. This bonding business was not funny at all. How on earth was she supposed to hold onto any form of dignity when the man sensed the fact she was practically in heat? It was beyond embarrassing.
His quiet chuckle did nothing to help the situation.
Garrick had been quiet throughout the day, but she’d felt his eyes on her frequently. Selfishly, she’d wished they’d had more time back in the outpost cabin. This trip would offer them no opportunity to be alone with an escort of some twenty men. In the company of her father’s men and in the line of family duty such as this visit, it was not appropriate for them to be seen as anything more than Princess and body guard.
This didn’t stop her reliving the past nights and wishing for a chance to do it again. This went beyond the bond they shared. She knew she was falling in love with Garrick, but where that would lead them was anyone’s guess.
That night, after their meal, Garrick accompanied her a short distance away from their camp to give her some privacy in order to prepare for sleep and away from the watchful eyes of the out post’s platoon.
‘Are you ready to go back?’ he asked when she reappeared a short time later.
‘Can we stay a little longer? It’s peaceful out here,’ she said, leaning back against a tree trunk and closing her eyes as she listened to the twittering of birds and the wind as it gently moved through the tree tops high above. Her eyelids fluttered open when she felt Garrick step closer.
‘You are so beautiful,’ he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek tenderly.
Wynter ran her hand along his wrist and smiled tolerantly. It had to be love; there was no way she looked anything other than a complete mess after riding all day. She lifted her face and leaned into him. The kisses started out gentle, almost light-hearted but before long they deepened and ignited that all-too-close-to-the-surface need within.
He groaned softly as he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.
‘I’m going to miss you tonight.’ She wished they at least had a tent she could sleep in, but they didn’t. All they had were bedrolls.
‘I know. But we’ll be at your sister’s tomorrow night.’
‘I can’t wait that long,’ she said, shaking her head, her hands quickly unfastening his trousers then lifting the skirts of the dress she was forced to wear for the trip in honour of meeting her sister and husband without offending anyone’s sensibilities. Trousers on women—especially royal women—were still not something commonly seen on this side.
‘Wynter, this isn’t going to be comfortable,’ he warned between grunts as he helped adjust their clothing.
‘The first time was on the floor of a cave. You’re seriously going to bring this up now?’
‘It wasn’t exactly planned.’
‘Stop talking, soldier,’ she demanded as her fingers nimbly untied the bodice of her gown.
Garrick’s eyes darkened as his gaze feasted on her cleavage that had been exposed to the cool night air. He slowly moved the fabric away until he’d uncovered her breasts, cupping them gently while his large, callused thumbs brushed across each nipple leisurely until they puckered and jutted, firm and pale, in stark relief against the moonlit night.
Her legs trembled as he dipped his head to caress each one. Wynter threw back her head and bit her lip to hold back the moan she felt building within. His hand ran down her side to her waist, then settled on her hip pulling her tightly against him until she could barely feel when she ended and he began. Lifting her leg, he placed it high on his hip, angling closer so that Wynter felt him large and hot against her centre. Moving both his hands under her bottom he lifted her, bracing her back against the ancient tree trunk behind them and entering her in one long, smooth stroke.
Wynter couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t do anything except hold on and give herself up to the shameless and uninhabited lust this man had awakened inside her.
When it was over, Garrick slowly lowered her to her feet and braced his hands on either side of her head, closing his eyes as he fought to catch his breath.
Wynter could feel his heartbeat still thumping hard against her chest and smiled shyly. Every time she thought sex couldn’t get any better, he went and proved her wrong. Slowly the sounds of the forest brought them back to earth and Garrick eased away from her, straightening her gown and retying her bodice with a firm knot and a dry grin. Clearly, he was intending to make sure the girls remained securely hidden, until further notice.
They didn’t speak as they made their way back to camp, but Wynter felt him beside her that night, as they lay side by side on their bedrolls near the fire, watching over her as she slept, ever her vigilant protector.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
WYNTER
Armeania’s palace was nothing short of breathtaking as it stood before them on the top of a ridge overlooking the valley below. Built from the rose-coloured rock found in the area, the castle glowed and sparkled with a pink hue that made it look almost magical.
An escort from the palace came to meet them and the parade wound its way up the mountain and through the cobbled streets into the courtyard of the castle. Wynter saw her sister standing in all her regal glory beside the King at the top of the stairs awaiting their arrival. The Armeanian house colour was green and Brica looked breathtaking in a deep emerald satin gown, with her hair intricately braided and woven into an elegant chignon, secured with delicate pink roses.
Garrick helped Wynter dismount her horse, his hands giving a brief squeeze before he released her, and they shared a quick glance before she murmured her thanks and stepped away. His body had felt strong and warm as she slid her hands down his chest while regaining her balance, and a stab of longing shot through her as she caught the barest whiff of leather, man and sweat, bringing back a memory of the night before.
‘Behave,’ Garrick murmured near her ear and she bit back a smile, realising he had been just as affected by her wayward thoughts as she was.
Taking a fortifying breath and clearing her head of inappropriate images, she straightened her shoulders and fixed a smile on her face as she made her way across to her sister.
She may have spent a long time on the other side, but royal protocol had been firmly ingrained in her from childhood. Restraining the urge to run to her sister and hug her tightly, she instead gave a graceful curtsy and lowered her eyes demurely as she greeted the King and Queen of Armeania.
Her sister wore a serene smile, but the genuine happiness in her eyes as she quickly looked Wynter over told her she too was restraining her own joy at the reunion.
They were received by the King, his strong voice sounding warm and sincere as he gave the traditional Armeanian blessing of welcome. There was an aura about the man, a confidence that seemed to radiate from him and his kingdom reflected it, in the happy faces they’d passed on the streets.
The castle guard lined the courtyard, in their forest green robes, holding up shining swords to form an archway for the guests to walk through into the palace. They were led into a room with an open balcony that allowed magnificent views of the kingdom. The soil was rich and fertile, the green of the pastures and yellow and browns of crops in the valley stood out starkly against the black of the mountain rock that surrounded them.
They were offered refreshments and after a few moments of polite conversation, Garrick handed over her father’s request to Harmend and waited for him to speak.
‘Your father is asking for our assistance to stop Forewick and his men from reaching Pairyon.’
‘Forewick is marching on Pairyon?’ Brica gasped. Her gaze flew to her sister’s and Wynter easily read their question...your dream is coming true?
‘I will send a message to Pairyon, immediately agreeing to the request. Ladies, if you will excuse us, we must make arrangements swiftly.’ The King bowed low to his wife and Wynter, before gesturing to Garrick that he should follow.
As soon as the door shut, Brica moved across to her sister, looking into her face urgently. ‘Is it happening? Your dream?’
‘I don’t know for sure, but everything is telling me that it is.’
‘Father? Mother? How are they?’
‘I haven’t seen them since King Forewick sent them the ultimatum...I’ve been visiting an outpost.’ She waved it off briskly. ‘I was heading back there when father sent word to Garrick that we were to come here and ask for your...husband’s assistance.’
‘You’re still having trouble saying that after all this time little sister?’ Brica smiled slightly at her stumble.
‘Are you well?’ Wynter asked, searching her sister’s eyes.
‘I am.’
The women looked at each other silently, taking in the changes they saw in one another after their time away. There was contentment here; Wynter could feel it hanging in the very air that surrounded them. ‘It’s really good to see you,’ Wynter said and felt a sheen of emotion welling in her eyes. She hadn’t realised just how much she’d missed her big sister.
‘I’ve missed you, too,’ Brica said, reaching for her and holding tight. For once, Wynter allowed herself a moment to return her sister’s embrace, but pulled away and self-consciously wiped at her eyes when a maid came in carrying a tray of tea.
‘There’s something different about you,’ Brica said, eyeing her curiously as she picked up her cup.
‘It’s been six years.’
‘No, not different like that...different like,’ her sister started as her eyes widened slightly, ‘a man.’
‘What?’ Wynter’s eyes mimicked her sister’s at that, how could she know something like that? She panicked for a moment before calming herself. She can’t. She’s just guessing. ‘When would I have had time for a man?’ she scoffed, hastily taking a sip of her tea.
‘True,’ her sister said shrewdly, tapping her lip thoughtfully, ‘I mean you’ve had one of father’s guards hovering over you—’ She stopped abruptly and stared at her sister. ‘Your guard!’
‘I think we’ve got far more pressing things to worry about than...that,’ Wynter said briskly.
‘Wynter, you’re not!’
‘Not what?’
‘Not thinking of doing what mother did.’
Wynter eyed her sister with a raised eyebrow. ‘Marry a man for love instead of a title?’
‘You’re a princess...of royal blood. You can’t marry—’
‘I’m not marrying anyone...but if I were, then I don’t see how marrying for love is wrong.’
‘You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. Let’s just forget I said anything. I don’t want to fight when you’ve only just arrived.’
Wynter gave a long sigh. It seemed on quite a few issues they would always remain on opposite sides of the fence. The comfortable silence of a few moments earlier was now gone. ‘If you don’t mind—it’s been a long journey—I might go and freshen up.’
