His Secret Wife

Griffin Rider

Spring - 32nd Year of the Rule of William Farview. W32

‘Thea!’

Thea blinked, snapping out of her reverie and looked around at the impatient call of her friend. Freya, as always, looked utterly gorgeous. Decadent in a gown of vibrant pink silk. Her blue eyes sparkled with and her dark hair had been slicked back from her face tied into a neat bun, ready for the flamingo mask to slot over her beautiful features.

‘Sorry,’ Thea shook herself off and moved away from the balcony where she’d been standing. Her body ached from a long day of training with the other Griffin Riders. Her limbs were heavy as she smothered a yawn behind her hand and Freya lifted a brow.

‘Oh no you don’t,’ the Princess warned and approached her friend. Freya was smaller than most women and Thea taller, meaning there was a head of height between them. But the Princess’s personality tended to dominate most of their interactions, despite her diminutive build.

‘Don’t what?’ Thea feigned innocence. But she and Freya had been friends since baby hood, and although they had very different stations in life, knew each other well enough that lies wouldn’t work.

‘Don’t you dare think about abandoning me tonight,’ Freya warned, she took hold of her friends hands, pleading. Wide blue eyes impassioned, ‘the ambassadors have arrived from Milany, and there are some young, attractive men among the party.’

‘And how would you know that?’ Thea lifted a brow, quite sure that Thea had not been present at the hunting lodge when the party had arrived. Thea had been circling the skies from above, seeing that the travelers from Milany arrived safely.

‘I have friends,’ Freya grinned, wriggling her shoulders. ‘And one of the young men, is a Prince of Milany. Prince’s are always handsome.’

Thea groaned, ‘Frey,’ she sighed, ‘so all Princes must be handsome like all Princess’s are beautiful?’

‘Am I not beautiful?’ Freya lifted her chin, brow raising archly as she challenged her friend. She bounced on her toes, ‘please Thea. You have to come to the party, stop thinking about Liam. He’s unimportant,’ her voice softened and she reached out, tucking Thea’s hair behind her ear.

‘You’re the most exquisite creature I’ve ever laid eyes upon,’ Thea responded in her usual, dry sense of humor.

The young griffin rider let out the breath that felt like it had been held trapped in her lungs for days. Liam had broken her heart. Thea had broken all the rules of Verene chivalry and taken a lover without any promise of marriage. Her grandfather, the Duke of Runecliff would have been furious if he ever found out. Which is why he was never going to find out. She’d loved Liam, with all of her heart and soul. They’d training together as squires, and their friendship had developed into something more. Something that promised a blissful future. But after finding Liam in bed with a Palace maid, Thea was forced to confront the idea that maybe she was the only one that had envisaged a future with her colleague. It had been three days ago that she’d discovered his wandering hands. She was broken, shattered and exhausted after taking as many shifts in the sky as she could. Anything that saw her keep her distance from the man. The last thing she wanted to do, was attend a ball. To smile and dance and pretend that everything was fine. That her heart wasn’t ripped into pieces. To watch Liam from a distance, and wonder, if or when he might sneak away with the maid, or maybe someone else.

‘Thea,’ Freya turned away and collected up her mask, ‘come on…I know it bothered you, what he said.’

Thea bit her bottom lip then. She took up the simple black mask that would cover her features. She’d dressed in preparation for the ball in green layered skirts and a corset, even if she didn’t have the heart to attend. Last year’s costume as a wood nymph. A tiny green sparkle decorated the corners of the mask. During the bitter exchange of their break-up, Liam had made several accusations. Most consistently, she was boring. Both in and out of the bedroom. Why else would he have strayed? Her heart constricted and she looked between the mask and Freya’s silent encouragement.

With a sigh, Thea pulled the mask over her face and smiled across at her friend. It didn’t matter that the expression didn’t reach her eyes, because most of her face was hidden.

‘Let’s go,’ Thea nodded and gestured to the door. She could hear the music of the ballroom starting up already and her stomach churned in knots. The quicker they arrived, the sooner she might be able to leave. COnfident, that as usual Freya would find herself amused with the other courtiers, the ones who were less boring and sensible.

Freya led the way to the door in a blur of startling pink, ‘what better way to prove you’re not boring,’ she encouraged, ‘than having a wild and wonderful time at a dance!’

‘Let’s just go find you a Prince,’ Thea rolled her eyes, grateful again for the mask that covered her expression.

The party was worse than she was expecting. She managed to stick with Freya for the first few moments upon entry, until, predictably, some dashing young man dressed as a black swan swooped down to escort the Princess away to dance. His friend lingered, as though he might offer for Thea’s hand but the Griffin Rider shook her head, she didn’t want his pity. Relieved, Thea sank back through the crowd. She waited until the first dance was underway, counted the number of suitors lined up to dance with Freya next, and smiled beneath her mask, pleased for her friend. Freya loved social events like these, and so she should. She was belle of the ball, and it would make her eventual position as Queen an easier once. But Thea found the noise and chaos a challenge at the best of times.

Dreading an encounter with Liam, she slipped away through one of the back doors and out into the fresh air. Pulling the light black cloak that had covered her costume over her soldiers. Despite the mild summer night, she felt cold. No doubt she’d be lectured the next day by her Grandparents for not attending, but Freya would cover for her, she always did. Their's a was a mutual friendship that had stood the test of time.

Away from the Palace, Thea made her way through the dark gardens towards the stable blocks. After three days in the skies, she wanted to check her bag of gear. If there was an emergency and she was sent on a quick flight across the country, she didn’t want to get caught out. She ignored the main entrance to the stables, hearing that the usual card game was underway. For a moment she considered joining the hostlers and carriage drivers, easier in the company of the common folk than the nobility. But decided against the idea. Truly, she was not in the mood for company.

She wasn’t sure exactly when, but part way through the stable block, Thea realized that someone was stalking her steps. A shiver ran down her spine and she walked fast, ducking through the shadows until she reached her bag. She tried to move as though unhurried, to ready herself before her stalker made their attack. Her fingers dipped within her kit bag and curled around a spear-headed blade. Ready to defend herself as her stalker closed the distance, knocking the weapon from her hand.

They grappled with one another and she was frustrated, losing ground faster than she usually would in the cumbersome costume skirts. She took her attackers' measure in the dark, taking note of all the points she usually did against a warrior sparring partner. She was a seasoned Knight and not easily bested and despite being thrown off her balance,was confident that eventually she would win out. Even as they tumbled into the straw. His accent had been Milanic and if he’d thought her easy prey, then she at least owed him a warning.

‘Get off me!’ she struggled to find breath, winded and spots dancing in front of her eyes, yet still quietly confident. ‘don’t make me hurt you!’

She struggled against the man until he called her a thief. A thief? She nearly laughed, wasn’t he the thief, attacking a woman for no reason? To what end was he wrestling with her in the straw. The exchange between them was frantic, breathless and she found herself staring up at the man who pinned her, sitting astride her hips. She could throw him off at any moment but there was something about the way he reached down, pulling away the mask she’d worn. The way that he looked at her, even from behind his own mask.

‘Take off your mask,’ she begged and found herself staring into blue eyes the colour of the sea at midnight. He was handsome, the man from Milany, in a way that saw her body coil tight with desire. She’d felt lust before, but it had been something that had developed over a long time with Liam. This was different, striking like lightning from a clear blue sky. Her breath caught and she held it, her chest rising and falling in frantic gasps. She should make her excuses, introduce herself to the man and get a way. But something told her to stop. Because fleeing into the darkness would be sensible. It would be the right, prudent thing to do. It would be boring. She didn’t want to be boring. So she encouraged the man to kiss her, and once he did, she was lost.

Perhaps it was simply because he was a stranger, or was he particularly skilled? Thea couldn’t pin point the reason, but the desire and passion that unfolded between them felt inevitable once it had started. The moment he had kissed her, she realized that she never wanted him to stop.

There was nothing sensible nor prudent about making love to a stranger in the stable block. But Thea gave herself over to it, whole heartedly. The man was from Milany, maybe one of their Knights or their fabled Myst, the magic users. Perhaps that was why he was able to set her skin tingling with just a simple touch. There were whispers in the darkness, but she couldn’t speak. Her thoughts tumbling together with the strange wonderful intoxication of the night and their illicit actions. He coaxed her name from her, a detail she suspected that she would regret, if he told anyone about what had occurred. She didn’t know much about the culture of Milany, but it was supposed to be more forgiving than the rigidity of Veren and their virginal noble daughters. She would hope, and pray that their tryst remained a secret. Otherwise they’d be trapped together, and who would want a boring Bride?