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Later that day, Cal sighed while she kicked at a few pebbles on the path. She’d hoped to meet Relian for their usual walk in the gardens, but he couldn’t make it. He’d been thoughtful and sent a servant to tell her, so she couldn’t fault him. Listlessness now filled her. She only wanted him.
Her stomach fluttered at the remembrance of that one explosive encounter in the garden and how it’d been interrupted. Though their exchanges hadn’t lost any of their passion, they never stepped so close to the edge as they had that one time. He wanted them to wait, and she agreed. Until she made a decision, sex would only complicate matters and muddy feelings. If he pushed her for more, she wasn’t sure how or, even if, she’d be able to deny him. Thankfully, he hadn’t used her weakness to his advantage.
She inhaled deeply. The garden was peaceful, though there were always elves nearby. They literally camouflaged themselves, blending into whatever background they stood against. The color of their clothes aided in this practice, as did the fluidity of their movements.
Just when she thought she was used to elves, a certain characteristic would leap out at her and tear away any notion in her psyche they were human. That melting into the background, into the shadows, was one that caught her off-guard all too frequently. No doubt there were at least one or more sentries or sentinels sheltering in the branches above her head or in any number of other places. At least she would be safe even if she found it rather creepy.
As she touched various plants, the feel of their texture underneath her fingertips soothed her. She no longer sought the reality of sensation to convince herself she was awake and not locked up somewhere in a straitjacket.
Her visits with Relian fostered a deepening familiarity between them, making both more open. That new sense of comfort seemed to make him more carefree with her. When he acted like that, she rewarded him with passionate kisses. It was a very enjoyable pattern to establish. Her heart quickened at the thought.
The touches and kisses they stole had been igniting a slow burn in her. Though she wanted to wait, she might spontaneously combust if she didn’t get some relief soon. An image of her exploding from Relian’s caresses caused her to chuckle. That wasn’t how she intended to come apart in his arms.
However, her other concerns hadn’t disappeared. They’d pop up at the most annoying, inopportune moments. She’d often shove them into the foggy recesses of her mind. Unfortunately, they had a tendency to unearth themselves. Issues like returning home, not to mention her finite life poised against the backdrop of his immortality, grew exponentially larger when she least expected. She’d have to talk to him soon.
Even now that she could converse with him in a limited manner, the situation wasn’t ideal. However, it was an improvement over complete silence or, worse, pantomiming. She did best when she could just listen and didn’t have to worry about formulating her own response.
Turning back the way she’d come, she decided to find Maggie. Even if she couldn’t see Relian now, she wasn’t going to mope.
When she took a path to the right, she halted. Two elf lords and one lady walked a few feet ahead. The lavishness of their clothes identified their station. She didn’t have much luck with those sorts of people, either here or back home. Definitely time to hightail it out of the garden. She pivoted around as silently as she could until a masculine voice reached her.
“How are you, my lady?”
She cringed and steeled herself. Maybe these were some of the friendlier elves around. Pasting a polite smile on her face, she tried to keep a calm and steady voice. “I’m fine, my lords and lady. And you?” She spoke slowly in Elvish, thinking if she did so, they might talk at a rate where she could puzzle out most of it.
The brown-haired male elf gave her a genial but knowing smile while the blonde male and female retained poker faces. She winced internally. Ouch, no friendly reception there.
The friendly elf spoke. “We are well. Lord Sardon, Lady Cianve, and I were enjoying the lovely day given to us. I am Lord Ennin.” He bowed slightly and touched his hand to his forehead in way of formal greeting.
Cal froze. Her four-hour-long daily Elvish lessons had truly helped her to improve. But not to such a degree that she’d begun to learn any basics of etiquette, except for simple greetings and farewells. She chose to stick with what she knew and executed a small curtsy. “Pleased to meet you.” Better than nothing. At least she’d attempted some form of pleasantry.
As none of the elves looked mortified, she must’ve acted with enough decorum not to look foolish. Ennin continued to smile, and Sardon kept on his non-expressive face—not hostile but certainly not welcoming by any stretch, either. Cianve disconcerted her most of all. The elvin woman’s measured gaze seemed to assess her, as if stacking her up against some invisible foe.
Ennin inclined his head. “We’re pleased to speak with you again. You infrequently attend meals in the great hall, so we’ve had little opportunity to reacquaint ourselves and see how you and Lady Maggie are familiarizing yourselves with Eria and its people.”
Surprise flickered through her because she understood most of what he said. “We’re taking our days as they come and learning slowly.” Her Elvish was fairly fluent, though probably riddled with mistakes. And forget about giving a longer answer. It was all she could do to form that short one. She was used to talking with Henril, Relian, and a few others, but this felt like a surprise test.
To her relief, Ennin beamed at her use of the language. Though Sardon’s face remained as implacable as before, was that a spark of approval in his eyes? Cianve, however, still watched her as if filing away all her measurements.
“We could ask for no more, my lady. It will come.”
Ennin made their farewells, and she sent him a smile of thanks. She’d given up on Sardon saying anything at all, but he offered up a short parting. The lady left with a regal nod of the head.
She watched them move off, dazed. That went better than expected. Even Sardon, whose frigid manner had convinced her he was a lost cause, hadn’t snubbed her. Maybe... Maybe she wouldn’t feel like such an outcast if she did stay here. Still, there was so much undecided, and even unspoken, between her and Relian. The notion of permanently living here shouldn’t be taken too far.
Now, what had she been about to do? Oh yes, find Maggie.
“Imagine seeing you here.”
Cal whirled around at the voice. Her heart sank. Eamon stood before her. So much for the goal of meeting nice elves today.
“Many greetings, my...lady.” He smirked. “Lost all your companions?”
Ice encased her veins at his smile and the taunting note in his voice. Since he was talking in a slow, indolent manner, she couldn’t pretend to misunderstand him. He creeped her out. The fact that he resembled Relian didn’t help. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What? They left you all alone?” He prowled closer, and she stumbled back. “How did you like meeting one of Prince Relian’s ladies?”
Cal’s heart plummeted, and her stomach lurched. So that was what Cianve’s staring had been all about? She’d been Relian’s lover? With his age, why wouldn’t he have lovers littering the palace?
As if he sensed her turmoil, Eamon leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Lady Cianve is such a beautiful elvin lady, wouldn’t you say?”
She shivered, the breath against her ear causing all the wrong kind of chills. He sought to goad her but wouldn’t get a response. His game was all too apparent.
“Hmm, no answer for me? Well, I might have to see what I can do about that.” He drew his fingers down her neck, scraping the tender skin.
Cal recoiled and knocked his hand away. She touched the slight sting his fingers left. Eamon was well past creepy now. “Get away from me. I know there’re sentries around.” Concern exploded when he didn’t look a bit scared and paid no heed to his surroundings. But he moved no nearer.
“Are you so sure, my dear? I sent a few to check out a...disturbance. The rest are conversing with your companions.” He shook his head sadly. “They’ve forgotten their duty, which is tragic, really. Humans are such fragile things, after all.” He fingered a dagger on his belt, looking contemplative. “They should be more careful. We wouldn’t want your heart broken, now would we?”
Electricity flooded her synapses. It was time to run or scream. She couldn’t decide which. Her gaze flickered around while her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. An escape route...she needed one. Now.
Eamon’s hand shot out and grasped her arm. “Now, where are you trying to flee to, my pretty little human? The fun’s just beginning. You can’t leave yet.”
Cal ignored the fright that flowed through her body. Gritting her teeth, she stared down at his hand. “Release me. Now.”
He gave a low laugh. “I’ll release you as you wish. I hope the arms of death are as comforting as Prince Relian’s. It’s nothing personal, but you are a blemish that must be removed.”
His arms snaked around her, forcing her against his chest. Cal struggled, but his muscles were like steel bands. She couldn’t even get her arms free.
The bite of a dagger against her cheek froze the breath in her lungs. This elf was seriously unbalanced. As he slid the blade down her face and neck, a fiery trail sprang up. A telltale warmth seeped out of the thin line. He pressed the dagger right above her heart. She was afraid to breathe, fearing the action might send the blade plunging into her chest.
She closed her eyes against the tears. He was going to kill her no matter what she did. She had to act now. Just as she opened her mouth to scream and bring her heel down on his foot, a voice shouted, “Stop!” Eamon startled behind her.
The blade slipped and dug painfully into her breast.
Relian stood about fifteen feet away on the garden path, sword drawn. Good lord, someone was in for a whole lot of hurt. Please, not me or Relian. The dagger pierced deeper. Agony exploded as a wet feeling slicked her skin. Eamon removed the knife, but the throbbing in her chest didn’t disappear with it.
“Let her go, Eamon.” Relian’s command was gentle yet threaded with metal. “You have nothing to gain from this.” His face gave nothing away, but his gaze flickered over her more than once.
Even though Cal couldn’t see Eamon, the sneer lacing his voice told her of his likely expression. “I’m ensuring human blood stays out of the royal line.”
“That’s not for you to decide. Stop this folly now, and you may escape with banishment only.”
“I’m not going anywhere. It is you who will see the folly of your ways. I do admit she’s sweet. She’d make a satisfactory plaything if only you would see reason.” He bent down and slithered his tongue up the side of her neck.
Disgust filled her every pore, temporarily dulling the pain. “What, your plaything? Eww.”
“Do you never muzzle your toy, Relian? She actually dares to have the audacity to talk back to me.”
Relian growled, and his eyes flashed angrily. “She’ll never be anyone’s plaything, least of all yours. Let her go.”
“Well, if you feel that way, I have no choice. I do this for the family since no one else will.” Eamon drew the dagger up before accelerating it down toward her heart.
Now or never. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Her elbow went back into his ribs, and her heel slammed into the top of his instep. The air huffed out of his lungs, and the dagger stopped. But the arm around her tightened, and the blade made its descent again. Just as she prepared herself to wage another attack on him, a whizzing sound buzzed by her ear. Eamon’s body flinched. He grunted.
Pushing her away, he sent her sprawling to the ground. The hard press of the path’s stones against her side oddly comforted her. Anything to be away from that madman. She glanced up through the curtain of her hair. Archers and other soldiers climbed from trees and emerged around hedges. They surrounded Eamon. He lay on the ground, clutching his arm.
A bubble of relief rose up through the pain and terror. Relian had brought reinforcements.
“Cal.” Relian abandoned his normally measured stride and ran the few remaining yards toward her. He dropped down beside her, pulled her into his lap, and ran insistent, yet shaking hands over her body. His implacable façade melted and left his face pale under his light tan.
After apparently finding no broken bones, he reached for something one of the archers handed him and pressed it against her chest wound. She hissed. It stung and elicited the same reaction when he dabbed at her neck and cheek.
Relian’s eyes gleamed with suspicious moisture. “I’m sorry. Until we get you to a medic, this will stem the bleeding and help with any possible infection.” He finished his ministrations by placing a strip of material over the chest injury just above her low neckline and applied pressure.
She nodded as her mind struggled to understand Relian’s words. The events hardly seemed real. Shock was catching up with a vengeance.
He used gentle fingers to touch the thin line left behind on her cheek. “Curse him.”
Cal attempted to give him a smile. She failed miserably. “What took you so long? I was beginning to worry I’d have to rescue myself.”
He smoothed back the hair from her eyes and spoke in the slow tone he’d adopted when talking with her. “I happened upon Lady Cianve. She’d come back to ask you to walk with her but saw Eamon approach. After witnessing how he addressed you, she grew worried and sought help. She was looking for a guard when I found her.”
She pursed her lips. “I bet she was.”
He removed his hand from the compress and instead pushed her palm against it. His gaze questioned her as he lifted her in his arms. Cal wanted to protest, but her limbs quaked like a bowl of jelly. Walking was out of the question. She rested her head against his shoulder. “Eamon told me all about Cianve.”
Relian’s lips tightened. “Did he?” He leaned down to place his lips near her ear, and his breath sent all the right kind of shivers up and down her back. “Did he also mention we were nothing more than youths—teenagers, I believe you call them—at the time?”
Her throat felt raw and stiff. The waspish mood that gripped her heart lifted. “No.”
“There hasn’t been another in my life for many centuries. But even if there had been, it wouldn’t matter. You’re the only one who will fulfill that role now.”
Heat blazed from her face all the way down to her toes. Whoa, girl. Did she want that role? She didn’t know but sure as hell didn’t want to relinquish that position to someone else.
“Prince,” a voice called out.
Relian halted without turning around. “Yes, Sardon?”
“What should we do with Lord Eamon?”
“Take him away. He’s lucky to have only an arrow through the wrist. If I deal with him, he won’t live to regret what he’s done.” Relian’s arms tightened. “Punishment will be meted out later.”
A shiver crawled up her spine. Relian’s words sounded ominous, and though Eamon deserved whatever he got, she wasn’t used to violence, especially on her behalf.