The Royals

Chapter 33

'Everyone receives the same rations."

'But I'll bet some portions are bigger than others.' He slapped Henry's shoulder in a falsely hearty guffaw. 'Isn't that so, prince.'

The prince bit his lip to keep from shouting. 'I wish it were. I'll see what I can do about your living-quarters. There must be an apartment somewhere.'

'I hear there's extra space at the castle.'

He's maneuvering me, Henry thought. Still, we might be able to keep an eye on him there.

'You can announce I'm to be knighted for saving you from certain death."

.A knighthood! Next you'll want ..' He let the thought go unspoken. Why borrow more trouble?

'Could be I'll want that too,' the mercenary agreed, as if he knew what the prince was thinking.

'Let's go,' Henry said. 'It's a long walk.' there.

. 'Not to worry, sire. I've got your horse right over You won't mind sharing, will you?'

The prince remained silent as he followed the man to a horse that by all rights should have been dead.

He casually strolled a route intended to take Henry through the worst of the aftermath. Corpses and the occasional steaming troll littered the battlefield. Blood still flowed from many of his men's wounds. How long had he been out?

'Too bad we won't be able to take care the bodies," said his despicable guide. 'Ah well. I'm sure the elfwitch will put the buggers to good use."

With heavy heart, he closed his mind to the dead. He had to protect the living now. What happened to the trolls?'

'Don't remember that either, huh? I guess you wouldn't. They're gone."

'Gone where? Headed for The Cliffs?'

He shook his head. 'Don't think so. Maybe the elfwitch called them back.'

This was more disquieting than their defeat. "But why, when they're so close to… The prince couldn't bear to voice the possibilities.

As they mounted his horse, Henry told himself over and over that the battle would have happened just this way whether or not he'd let himself ascend to the skies. She'd planned it from the first.

Try as he might, he didn't believe himself for an instant.

Lyam took Kate to a well-appointed chamber. He nodded politely and bid her a formal 'good night, princess' as he closed the door behind him.

She might have been visiting distant relatives if not for the lock bolted from the outside.

Relieved that at least Henry hadn't betrayed her after all, Kate collapsed onto an over-stuffed chair. How could she have ever thought him capable of such heinousness, and why hadn't she paid more attention to Maarcus's repeated questions about the prince?

It all came back to the elfwitch. Alvaria could twist whomever she chose, using more fear than magic. Kate was no less susceptible than the fleeing refugees. When she thought about it, she realized the elfwitch only needed to remind the princess of her lifetime of treachery and death in order to render her powerless. This was one of the many inner battles Kate must win if she expected to defeat Alvaria.

Kate paced, exhausted but unable to sleep. She couldn't help but be struck by the comparison to her stay with Zera. She'd thought herself trapped in the elf's elegant home because of what the elf had expected of her, but in the end she had been free to choose what she would do.

Here she was truly caged, whether in one of her half brother's dank cells or in more tolerable surroundings. The best treatment she could hope for would be as a perverted plaything. Intolerable as that was, she knew it would be no more than a way-station between here and something more dreadful.

A basin and pitcher sat atop a wash-stand next to the chair. Hating herself for taking advantage of any comforts while Maarcus remained in worse conditions, she couldn't resist the compulsion to cleanse the stench of the past days. She poured water into the pan and dipped in a nearby cloth. The water was surprisingly warm and scented with roses. How did he . . . ? Never mind. Kate didn't want to know.

She scrubbed the grime from face and neck with misgivings. Hadrian may have temporarily changed his tactics. Just the same, he hadn't given up wanting some thing from her and he didn't appear to be a man who was often denied.

She pulled off her boots. Fully clothed, she lay down atop the covers. There might well be a nightshirt hung in the wardrobe, but she was repulsed by the thought of wearing it. Hadrian would surely have dressed another hapless woman in it and Kate didn't want to come within spitting distance of anything he'd touched.

Several hours later, Princess Kate finally drifted to sleep. She dreamed of dead men. Men who died in battle, men who died at the hands of assassins, men who died of old age. Men she'd known well, men she hadn't known at all. She struggled, tossed, and turned against the tide of bodies. It seemed there was no escaping from the endless swirl of blood.

She awoke with the taste of iron thick on her tongue, but it was not the nightmare that had awakened her. Years of protecting royals from assassinations had taught her to note any slight flux in the air. Sound asleep or wide awake she could focus all her attention on the change as though an alarm tolled in her ears.

She wasn't surprised the door was quietly swinging open. A shape in the doorway smelled of leather and sweat and expensive wine. Overlaying it all was a per fumed musk applied, no doubt, to mask the others - scents.

Hadrian.

He closed the door behind him.

Kate silently sat up with her back against the head board, leaving a lump of blankets in her place. She had been without a weapon since the ruffian captured her, but she was not defenseless.

The prince sat down on the bed and leaned over to where he expected her to be. Finding her not there, he began vigorously patting the blankets. 'She couldn't have escaped. . .' he muttered, the words understandable despite the alcoholic slur.

Though she was tempted to let him continue searching, she didn't want to risk raising his anger further. 'Looking for someone?'

'Huh?' He turned in the direction of her voice.

In the near darkness, Kate caught a shadow shift as his face widened into a smile.

'So you like to frolic. Good.' The words came from deep in his throat. 'I enjoy spirited carousing.'

This was not what she intended. I don't engage in such diversions,' she told him matter-of-factly. 'I was protecting my skin from those who would do me harm.

'Rest assured, lady. No harm will come to you or your skin - so long as I have something to say about it.' He paused dramatically. When Hadrian spoke again, he sounded much harsher, nastier - and more comfortable as his true self. 'That is, so long as you co-operate.'

All depends,' Kate said easily. Contrary to her interest in copulation, she was expert at word play.

'On what?' Hadrian snapped.

'Circumstances.'

'Such as?"

'Whether I'd be inclined to fornicate without coercion."

'And would you?'

Kate considered her answer carefully. He was close enough to straddle her if he chose and she'd be hard pressed to get out from underneath his bulk. Finally, she let her voice get throaty. 'It's difficult to say. We've just met.'