Chapter Twenty-Five

Daniela lurched awake as Luka bolted from the bed. Her “What was that?” was sharp in her mind, but a tangled thick mess as she tried to speak.

He didn’t answer as he grabbed his breeches from the floor. Why was he still there, anyhow? It was dark enough that she couldn’t see the clock on the mantel, but he still promised her that he’d be gone long before they ran any risk of being discovered by her father.

Then she realized what it was that startled her awake. “What do you think that was?”

Luka paused in fastening his breeches. “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.”

She rubbed the sleep from both eyes. “Do you have your pistol?”

He paused at the door to nod. “I do. Go back to sleep.”

“Go back to sleep? You’re joking, aren’t you?” She slid to the edge of the bed. “Why do I think that crash was not caused by someone familiar with the palace?”

“Don’t be a fool. Stay here.”

She scowled at him. “I didn’t say I was going with you. I think you and the others will be fine without me. You certainly did fine before I came here.”

He smiled then as he pulled on first his right boot and then his left. “Lock the door behind me. Do not open it until you hear my voice.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

He set a second pistol on the low chest beside the door. “If something happens, use this. It’s loaded, ready to be fired. Ivan did tell you, didn’t he?”

She stared at the gun, her blood cold. It looked just as menacing, just lying there. “Well, yes, but Luka, I don’t know—”

“Point. Pull the trigger. Make that shot count.”

A hint of chill crept over her, but still she nodded. “Of course.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. You’ll be fine.” He crossed back to her, brushed her lips with a quick kiss, grabbed his shirt, and was gone, swallowed up by the darkness.

No sooner did the door close than she regretted not going with him. Waiting was brutal, the silence thick enough to make her ears hurt. She couldn’t sit still.

The clock on the mantel ticked loudly. Wind whispered at the window panes. Every little noise seemed magnified by the absolute silence within the palace walls.

And then the most terrifying noise in the world rang out, followed by a wail of agony. She jumped at the snap of a gun firing, spinning around to stare at the door as if she’d be able to see through it and down a floor. Silly, of course, but she did it just the same. Then her gaze slid to the pistol Luka left on the chest. No. She promised she would wait for him. That scream wasn’t his. She’d heard enough of his screams to know the difference. That was a sound she wasn’t likely to ever forget.

The words kept reverberating through her skull—That was not Luka. That was not Luka—as she paced her room from windows to door. Back and forth. Her thoughts whirled and shifted, like thick black storm clouds gathering. A soft creak came from the far side of the room as she was mid-stride, and she jumped from the sudden shatter of heavy silence.

“Dolt,” she chided, shaking her head at her foolishness. “Merely the settling of an old building.”

But then there came another creak, this one louder and closer. She froze as the handle of the door connecting her chambers to Helga’s jiggled and then slowly turned. Then the door opened with the softest of creaks.

Even with the minimal light afforded by the lone candle blazing, Daniela recognized the man with the mismatched eyes. She stared, her mouth going dry, as he smiled that familiar oily smile. “And we meet again, Mrs. Bertalan.”

Her heart thundered against her ribs. It was worse than that day out on the steppe. She didn’t know why it was worse, because out on the steppe, she’d thought she was alone, save for Helga and the weak-willed driver. At least at Iarnia, Luka lurked about somewhere. The trouble was, she didn’t know where.

Still, she didn’t want him to know he frightened her. She wouldn’t give him that. Squaring her shoulders, she held his stare easily. “How did you get in my maid’s chamber?”

“It was quite easy, once I sent word she was needed below. The beauty of life in a palace—there are always so many people whose faces you don’t recognize, but yet you trust them all the same.”

“Who are you, and what do you want with me?” He stepped toward her, so she stepped back, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible.

“The first is unimportant, and the second is for you to come with me.” A flash of silver cut thorough the gold light. He carried a knife. “And I’ve no desire to hurt you, but I will, if it comes to that.”

“Where is Luka? And the others?” As she spoke, she inched away from him, away from that blade, until she bumped up against the chest. Perfect. She stood between him and the pistol, and he didn’t know it was there. He hadn’t seen it.

He’d never know what hit him.

He shrugged. “Down below, probably tearing the palace apart searching for me. My partner is not the most intelligent soul in the world, and I don’t doubt he is in shackles once more. They don’t realize I know this palace as well as the king himself, as I spent most of my youth here.”

She leaned back into the chest, hands clasped behind her back, surreptitiously skimming the chest’s surface until her fingers brushed the pistol’s oiled wood handle. “Who are you?”

“Again, it doesn’t matter.”

The door swung open and anger hung from Stefan’s growled, “Not since I know who you are.”

Both Daniela and the man with the mismatched eyes jerked toward the door. Luka and Stefan stood in the doorway. She would have breathed a sigh of relief save for one thing.

Neither man was armed.

Still, together they were impressive to look at. Although not nearly as much of a giant as his half-brother, Stefan was no small man, either. His pale blue eyes blazed with the same fury burning in Luka’s eyes, and neither seemed to notice her standing there.

“Put the blade down, Marek,” Stefan continued, “and I will not order you hanged.”

“My trouble is not with you, Stefan. Nor is it with you, Morovic.” Marek swished the blade in Daniela’s direction. “She is the one I need. And seeing as how I have the weapon, and you are all unarmed…perhaps my fool partner served a greater purpose than I thought.”

“Why do you need me?” Daniela asked, ignoring the looks of surprise from the king and Luka. Well, if neither of them was curious, she certainly was. It was something that niggled at her since that on the steppe. Why? And did that mean that the shots fired at her and Luka in the forest were meant for her and not for him?

And again, why?

But Marek apparently didn’t think she needed to know, because he shook his head. “Because I do. Now, you will come with me.”

“I don’t think so,” Luka growled, shoving by Stefan to come fully into the room. “And you do have trouble with me, for I didn’t take too kindly to being wounded by you.”

“It wasn’t personal, then.” Marek lunged. “Now, however—”

The knife slashed the front of Luka’s tunic. Luka sucked in sharp breath as a ribbon of bright red blood bubbled along the neat incision made by the knife.

Daniela swept the pistol from the chest and held it out. “Put it down. Now.”

All three men stared at her. She would take Luka to task later for the horrified look on his face. At the moment, all she cared about was getting Marek to surrender his knife. “Don’t look at me as if I was mad. Put it on the floor now.”

Marek scowled, but the knife clattered to the floor. She breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Kick it toward Luka.”

Silver flashed and glinted, throwing off light in brilliant sparks as the knife spun in a circle toward Luka. Without taking his eyes off Marek, Luka crouched to pick it up. Then, as calm as the world before a storm, Luka strode up to Marek and punched him in the middle of his face.

Bone crunched, and blood spurted from Marek’s shattered nose. He dropped to the floor with only a lame squeak. Stefan called for Ivan and Marko, and as they came to collect Marek’s crumpled body, he growled, “And this time, make certain the lock on the door has been oiled and actually locks.”

A stiff lock? Unbelievable. Daniela shook her head as her hands trembled. Would she have actually been able to shoot Marek? She didn’t know, and she was just as glad not to have to find out. The tremble spread, rippling up her arms to embrace her like a lover. The harder she tried to halt the shivers, the worse they became. She swallowed hard and finally willed the tremors into submission.

Instead, she turned to Luka, whose shirt was once more stained with his blood. But as she parted the frayed edges of the tear, she sighed with relief. “It is only a flesh wound.”

He sucked in a sharp breath as she gently probed the clean slice. “It stings now. By morning, I will have forgotten about it.”

“Especially when you sneak back into her chambers this evening,” Stefan added with a knowing grin.

Heat flared through her, but then Luka let out a wistful sigh. “Why do I think that isn’t going to happen. At least, not tonight?”

“More’s the pity.”

The heat intensified. Stefan knew? She remembered the way he knew about her and Luka in the Crimson Room. She didn’t know how he knew what went on in the palace, but it didn’t surprise her that he knew about Luka’s being in her chambers. It would take a great deal for anything to surprise her any more. Still, she scowled at both of them. “Enough. I am standing right here.”

Stefan glanced from Luka to her and back. “I think Ivan and I can take care of Marek and his idiot partner. Why don’t you two get back to whatever it was you were doing?”

“Who is Marek?” Daniela blurted. Neither man seemed to have been overly surprised by Marek’s presence, and she couldn’t recall either one asking him his name. How did they know him?

It was Stefan’s turn to sigh. “He is a cousin, a Niemchov, but of Royal blood, and he has been a thorn in my side for years. I’ll wager his idiotic attempts to kidnap you were meant to prevent the accord between Mordainia and Sandinia. If he cannot sit on the throne, he will make life as difficult for me as possible. I will find out soon enough. But”—he smiled at them—“that is nothing for you two to trouble yourselves with. As you were.”

And with that, he left, closing the door firmly behind him, then calling, “Kiss her, you idiot, before that wound starts to hurt and all you wish to do is rest.”

Daniela’s cheeks blazed with heat, but then Luka swept her up into his arms and his mouth came down firmly on hers. It was on the tip of her tongue to warn him to mind his newest wound, but then she realized Stefan had given them a direct order. Who was she to defy the orders of a king?