He couldn’t stop looking at her. And he really needed to.
Posthaste.
Alasdair was escorting her to meet a suitor. A possible match.
A possible husband.
His mouth was dry, and his tongue was plastered to the roof of it. He couldn’t have spoken at the moment if ordered by swordpoint.
At least he’d managed not to compliment her when they’d found each other in the corridor. Lady Elissa looked lovely in the shiny silver gown. More than lovely.
Radiant, because beautiful was too weak a word.
The bodice hugged her forbidden body, with a low neckline that placed her breasts high for the visual taking. It was tight enough to make her slender waist look even more streamlined, yet still hinted at the hips he’d felt when they’d danced. The skirt was overlaid with intricate silver lace that drew the eye and flowed perfectly as she walked.
Young Lucan had snagged him while he’d waited for her. They’d stepped into the closest sitting room for privacy. The knighted mage had wanted to assure him his spell was cast, and every magical precaution taken—including the fact that Lady Elissa wouldn’t be able to sense the protection enveloping her.
Too bad when he’d asked the lad about the ride out to the murdered Greenwald lass’ holding the first expression in Lucan’s eyes was regret. Even putting his head together with the king’s twin mages hadn’t shed any light on the killers—except the confirmation that the bastards had strong magic on their side and an inconvenient level of intelligence. They’d covered their tracks—magically and physically, leaving no clues to what direction they’d gone. Lucan had told him his gut said they were up against a tracker—one who was skilled in vast tracking and masking magic.
Alasdair hated to think they wouldn’t know anything more unless—or until—another young blonde woman was killed. No more should die, especially because of mistaken identity.
The conversation had taken longer than Alasdair had expected, but he’d also not expected Lady Elissa to be so cross with him when he’d finally returned to her.
She’d snapped and demanded. Reminding him of her station. Yet…from what he knew about his charge over the past two days, that was unusual behavior.
A part of him liked the fire that rode beneath the surface. There was more to Lady Elissa Durroc than a pretty face and coveted magic, and Alasdair wanted to be the one to discover it.
He studied her profile as they walked. The same feeling of unease settled over him as before. Something was off about her, and he wasn’t wholly convinced it was nerves regarding meeting Lord Lenore. Then again, he’d never been a lass meeting her possible mate for the first time.
He wanted to growl for some reason.
Her grip on his arm tightened when the lord came into view, jarring him from his thoughts—thank the Blessed Spirit.
Alasdair glanced down at her again, but Lady Elissa was looking at the tall, redheaded man with his back toward them, not at him.
Evidently, Lord Avery heard their footsteps, for the lad stopped studying the tapestry hanging above the dais. It depicted a battle, and was quite intricate in its display. Every time Alasdair took a long gander at it, he noticed something he’d missed before. No matter how many times he’d studied it.
They closed the distance and Alasdair released the lass so he could bow to the heir to the Province of Tarvis. “Lord Lenore, it’s nice to see you again.”
Lord Avery smiled. “You as well, Alas.” He stepped forward and clasped Alasdair’s forearm.
He returned the physical greeting, though they’d never been more than acquaintances. Alasdair had always liked the shy lad who knew more about magic than anyone he’d ever met—save Lucan.
Lord Avery was taller than the last time he’d seen him—just about equal to his own six-foot-three—but he was still lean. The muscles on his frame weren’t those of a bulky knight.
“How was your journey, my lord?”
Gray eyes like his duchess cousin’s met his eyes. “It was good, thank you. We made adequate time.”
“Good to hear.”
Lady Elissa hovered. She hadn’t said anything yet, and part of Alasdair didn’t want to introduce her.
Lord Avery glanced at her and the apple of his throat bobbed. No doubt the lad knew the why of the meeting, and also he’d noticed how lovely she was. He might be young, but the lordling was still a man.
Alasdair wanted to growl. Again.
Lady Elissa smiled and stepped forward. Her eyes were locked onto her suitor.
His face was clean-shaven, and now his cheeks were the same color as his hair. Ruddy and bright.
Alasdair tried not to smirk.
The lord bowed at the waist and smiled. “Hello.” The word was a croak, and he cleared his throat as he straightened. He reached for her hand.
She inclined her head and set her fingertips against Lord Avery’s palm. “Hello, Lord Avery.”
His cheeks stained an even deeper red.
Alasdair tried not to blow out a breath. If the lad wasn’t going to do anything but blush all morning, and the lass wasn’t going to say much beyond polite conversation, this day was going to be more torturous than he could’ve imagined.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Elissa. Lady Elissa Durroc.” She spoke gently, as if she would to a child, and Alasdair wanted to roll his eyes.
But it worked.
Lord Avery seemed to regain his composure. “I’m very glad to meet you, too, my lady.”
When she glanced his way, Alasdair didn’t know what to make of her gaze. She looked him up and down, then did the same to her suitor. Their eyes locked. He arched an eyebrow and her cheeks pinkened.
She couldn’t be…comparing him to the lad?
If it wouldn’t have shamed Lord Avery—and if Alasdair didn’t like him—he would’ve assured the lass there was no comparison.
Lady Elissa cleared her throat and put those hazel orbs of hers back where they belonged—on Lord Avery Lenore. “Shall we walk in the gardens, my lord? It’s a nice day out. The sun is warm.”
The lad jumped and nodded. “Of course. What a wonderful idea.”
“Aye, a good plan.” Alasdair made himself agree. He’d shown her the gardens in their vast entirety the afternoon before.
Satisfaction that he’d taken her there first washed over him before he screamed at himself for being ridiculous. First of all, she wasn’t for him. Which was exactly how he wanted things.
Pin that to your brain.
Secondly, Lord Avery was a lad of twenty.
Alasdair hadn’t been a lad for turns. He was all man, and when it came to pursing a lass, he always got what he wanted. They’d never complained, either.
Lord Avery couldn’t compete.
He doubted the heir to Tarvis had ever had a woman in his bed. His bashfulness all but shouted his virtue.
Still, aggression raced down Alasdair’s spine when the lord offered his arm to Lady Elissa and she slid her petite hand onto his sleeve.
They turned to leave without a word.
He groaned. Was he supposed to follow like some lost wolf cub?
It was going to be a long day.
She tried to concentrate on the sweet, shy young man whose arm her hand was tucked into, she really did. Lord Avery’s blush was charming, and he was handsome.
His face lit up when he talked, especially about magic tomes. Lord Avery’s gray eyes were just like the duchess’. So much so, it was like looking into hers. His red hair was cropped short, and was also like his cousin’s, yet his was a few shades lighter than Lady Cera’s.
At least meeting him is out of the way.
It’d gone well, too. But Elissa’s mind kept wandering back to what she’d overheard in the duke’s ledger room.
How dare King Nathal keep the truth from her?
Her parents were murdered. Her brother, too, she assumed. The king hadn’t mentioned Emery specifically, but nothing else made sense. They’d died together.
Murdered.
The word bounced around in her head, commanding all her attention.
I need to get out of here.
But she couldn’t. Not right now, and maybe not even later. The holding of her birth wasn’t far from the center of Greenwald. Perhaps an hours’ ride. She wanted to go to it.
Elissa needed to see Castle Durroc with her own eyes.
Why? It wasn’t like she could do anything about what’d happened so long ago.
Still…
Something felt like it was missing. Had for a long time. Maybe if she went there, the place where she’d lived at the start of her life, she could find it.
Maybe she could remember her parents and her brother.
She swallowed and made her stride match her suitor’s. He was talking again. Elissa chided herself to pay attention to him, for the fifth or sixth time.
Castle Durroc can be for later.
It would be. She refused to accept defeat. She’d accepted too much already. Perhaps she should confront the king about what he’d told the Duke of Tarvis.
“My lady?” Lord Avery asked. He shifted in his boots, his discomfort palpable.
Elissa felt a pang in her chest. She didn’t want him to be uneasy around her. “Aye, my lord?”
“Are you well?”
“I am, thank you.” She made her lips curve upward.
Act natural.
Elissa needed to get through midday meal and the time she was required to spend with the young lord from Tarvis. She forced her eyes on his.
He inclined his head. Lord Avery was tall, several inches past six feet, and he was leanly muscled, more of a scholar than a warrior, but he’d been knighted a few turns ago, so the duchess had told her, as a result of helping defeat the evil former archduke, Lord Varthan. Although his physique was pleasant, he didn’t have the muscle-mass of a certain knight that was trailing them.
They toured the gardens, looking at the fall flowers and discussing others that were asleep for the season. They didn’t speak of anything of consequence really, and the lack of pressure Elissa felt was nice.
It almost took her mind off the king’s conversation.
She’d never been meant to hear the words, but they swirled around in her head.
Lord Avery understood the purpose of their time together as well as Elissa, yet neither mentioned—nor seemed to be affected by it.
Well, except for his red face. He was twenty, he’d confessed, and the constant embarrassment made him seem even younger. She suspected this was the first time he’d been introduced to a potential bride, but if so, Lord Avery was doing well. He—and his awkwardness—was endearing, not irritating.
They strolled passed a small fountain, and the water called to her. She stared at the carved copper statues, which were shaped into two children appearing to play in the fountain base. Water shot up between the figures and flowed back down at the center of the piece. It was complex, detailed, but the water drew her eye, not the sculptures.
She lifted her hand and the water froze, forming a ball that floated above the fountain.
“Fascinating,” Lord Avery whispered.
Heat bit her neck and her gaze flew to his. The water ball sloshed back into the fountain. “I’m sorry. Sometimes…water just draws me.” It was more than that, but she couldn’t tell her suitor she was distracted by what the king had told his father. Her magic had shot out on its own, the water demanding it’s due.
“That is your main power?”
“Aye.”
“Yet you can control earth, wind and fire as well?”
“Aye.”
“Can I see?” His speech gained speed with every sentence. His gray eyes shone, and Elissa couldn’t help but laugh.
This particular distraction from her chaotic thoughts was welcome.
Lady Cera had told her Lord Avery adored everything magic—as well as understanding why magic worked the way it did.
The young lord looked down. “I’m sorry, my lady.” His cheeks were bright enough to match his hair again. “It’s just…elementals of your strength are rare.”
Sir Alasdair cleared his throat as if he was covering up a laugh as well, and Elissa’s eyes were drawn to her chaperone. When their gazes met, he tipped his head, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
Awareness zinged down her spine and she forced her attention back to Tarvis’ heir.
Nothing. Elissa felt nothing when Lord Avery looked at her. Not like when she looked at her knight—something she’d been consciously avoiding after the embarrassing moment in the great hall. His arched eyebrow had shouted he’d caught her sizing the two men up. Comparing.
There is no comparison, a voice whispered.
One was a lad, the other was all man.
Too bad Sir Alasdair wasn’t one of her suitors.
Guilt churned her stomach. She swallowed and forced a smile. “It’s quite all right, my lord. I understand the rarity of my gifts.”
Lord Avery nodded. “I don’t mean to be…pushy, my lady. I’m just curious.”
She nodded. “You may ask me anything you would like, my lord.”
“Call me Avery. ‘My lord’ is not necessary—considering the circumstances.” His blush reddened even more, if it were possible.
Elissa smiled—this time genuinely. Lord Avery was adorable, even if she didn’t feel a spark with him. She already knew he wouldn’t be the man she’d marry. But he was kind and sweet, and she would very much like to be his friend. She hoped he’d understand her decision. “You may call me Elissa, in that case. Considering the circumstances, as you say.”
She felt Sir Alasdair’s eyes on her and threw him a glance. The intensity in that blue gaze made her want to shift on her feet, but she didn’t. Elissa ignored the sensation darting all over her body and made herself look at her suitor.
“Very well, Elissa.” Lord Avery really did have a fantastic smile. It wasn’t as distracting as when the knight smiled at her—blast him—but it wasn’t hard to gaze at the lord’s countenance.
Her mind darted back and forth.
Lord Avery. Sir Alasdair. The new information about her parents.
Elissa’s gut twisted and her heart sped up. She needed distance from her young suitor, lest he sense—or worse, feel—her rapid pulse.
She drew her focus to magic. Needed to regain control of herself or risk something foolish like starting an accidental storm or flooding the fountain and drenching the three of them in the process.
Lord Avery fired questions rapidly, like loosing arrow after arrow, and she laughed when she couldn’t keep up. It helped with her loss of control, because she had to concentrate to process all his sentences. He apologized again, but didn’t protest when Elissa gently tugged her hand away from his arm.
“Here, let me show you,” she whispered, telling herself centering on her powers would help. She could keep her mind off her parents and maybe even banish that m-word that refused to exit her mind.
She closed her eyes and called to the air. Her body warmed, her skin humming with magic. It felt good. Warm. When she opened back up, both men were watching her intently. Elissa smiled for them and swished her hand back and forth.
A tiny wind was born, kicking up until it threw her hair around. It made their clothing flap. She could keep it going, offer more power, but her suitor was adequately impressed, his gray eyes wide, his expression delighted.
“Air,” Lord Avery said. “Your eyes glow almost white.”
She nodded. “A different hue for each element, or so I’m told.”
“Wow. Earth next?”
Sir Alasdair chuckled.
Lord Avery looked repentant, studying his boots for a moment. His chest heaved as if he’d taken a breath.
Elissa shot the knight a look. She wanted to scold him for making the lord uncomfortable. She could toss dirt in her chaperone’s handsome face, but that wouldn’t be the best demonstration of her powers. “Aye, my lord, whatever you desire.”
Sir Alasdair’s gaze was sharp now, and she threw a smirk at him. A muscle ticked in his cheek. She paused, her heart skipping. Elissa made herself look away—for the hundredth time that morning.
Her suitor flashed a lopsided grin that made him seem like a little lad.
She felt herself grinning back and called to her magic again. The scent of freshly churned earth tickled her nose, but Elissa had never found the scent unpleasant. She cupped her hands. Sparks rode under the surface of her skin as she shaped the dirt that came to her.
When she was done, she offered what she’d made to her suitor.
“Your eyes glowed green. Wow,” Lord Avery breathed. “A rose? Made of dirt.”
Elissa nodded. “I know it’s not very manly, but it’ll hold its shape. I sealed it.”
“I adore it. May I?”
She transferred the flower to his hand. It was a rosebud caught in mid-bloom. She’d always loved roses. Elissa conjured it by just thinking about blooms she’s seen in the queen’s vast rose garden in Terraquist.
“It’s hard. Feels like a wood carving. I cannot believe it’s made of earth…” Lord Avery’s concentrated completely on the item. “May I…keep it?”
“Of course, my lord.”
“Thank you, my lady—Elissa.”
She offered a nod. Elissa felt the knight’s gaze, but she didn’t spare Sir Alasdair a glance. A jolt that wasn’t a result of her magic skittered down her spine, but she forbade her feet from shifting. “There’s only one more element. Lord Avery, would you like to see it?”
“Fire,” he breathed, gray eyes wide.
“Aye.”
Elissa extended her palm, held it flat and concentrated. Heat kissed her body again and magic danced up and down her arms. She pinpointed her power on her hand.
Soon, a small flame was born. She urged it larger, until it burned bright and hot, the center bright blue.
“Impressive,” Sir Alasdair whispered.
Delight washed over her. The knight liked what she could do as much as her suitor did.
“Red eyes. And it does not hurt you, despite your draw, your strength being water?” Lord Avery asked, clear, clinical, like a healer trying to diagnose a patient.
“Nay, it doesn’t hurt me.”
In her other hand, Elissa called water, making its shape imitate the flame. She held both palms up to her suitor.
“Fascinating,” the lord said. “And do you not tire?”
She shook her head. “I would, with more exertion, like anyone. Magic can exhaust, but not from what I’ve shown you.”
“You’re so strong,” he praised.
Warmth settled in her cheeks. She shook her hands and the water and fire faded away, along with the surge of her magic required to keep them around. Elissa rolled her shoulders. She felt good.
Until she remembered what she’d overheard.
She sighed—and hoped very much neither of her companions noticed.
After her suitor had had his fill of her magic—adding a dozen more questions about what she could do—Lord Avery offered his arm and they completed their turn of the gardens.
It was a lovely fall day, and Elissa enjoyed herself.
“My lord, my lady, are you ready for midday meal? The bell sounded.”
She and her suitor exchanged a grin and nodded.
This morning hasn’t been so bad, after all.
Elissa could only ask the Blessed Spirit to ensure meeting her other three suitors was easy, and that they were just as pleasant as Lord Avery Lenore.