The Beauty of Darkness (15 page)

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Authors: Mary E. Pearson

BOOK: The Beauty of Darkness
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“I can't imagine what you suffered at the hands of those savages,” Madam Hague said.

“If you mean the Vendans, yes, some were savage, but many others were extremely kind.”

She raised her eyebrows as if doubtful.

Captain Hague threw back another glass of wine. “But you must regret your decision to flee the wedding. All this—”

“No, Captain. I don't regret my decision.”

The table grew silent.

“If I had been shipped off to Dalbreck, there are valuable things I never would have learned.”

Lieutenant Dupre leaned forward. “Surely there are easier ways to learn lessons of youth—”

“Not lessons, Lieutenant. Cold, hard facts. The Vendans have amassed an army and devised weapons that could wipe out both Dalbreck and Morrighan.”

Dubious glances were exchanged. A few eyes came close to outright rolling. Poor delirious girl.

Rafe put his hand on mine. “Lia, we can talk about this later. Tomorrow, with the colonel and other officers.” He quickly suggested we retire and excused us. As we walked past Sven and Bodeen, I eyed the near-empty bottle of red-eye.

I grabbed it from the table and sniffed. “Colonel Bodeen, do you mind if I take the rest of this with me?”

His eyes widened. “I'm afraid it's very strong brew, Your Highness.”

“Yes, I know.”

He looked at Rafe for approval, and Rafe nodded. I was getting quite weary of everyone deferring to Rafe before answering me.

“It's not for me,” I explained, then shot an accusing stare at Sven. “We did promise Griz a glass, didn't we?” Bodeen remained gracious, but several of the dinner guests cleared their throats, and stared at Bodeen, waiting for a refusal to share the red-eye. I understood their disapproval. They had just learned of an entire platoon's demise at the hands of Vendans. Still, everyone couldn't keep ignoring the fact that Kaden and Griz had suffered injuries to help save our lives.

Rafe took the bottle from me and handed it to a sentry standing at the door. “See that the large fellow in the surgeon's barracks gets this.” Rafe looked back at me and raised his brows as if to ask if the problem was solved, and I nodded my satisfaction.

*   *   *

“These are your quarters,” Rafe said, pulling aside the curtained entry of the tent. Even in the dim glowing light of an overhead chandelier, I was met with a shock of color. A lush indigo carpet swirling with flowers covered the entirety of the floor. A blue velvet quilt, white satin pillows, and fur blankets were piled high on a canopied bed topped with finials carved in the shapes of lion heads. Elegant blue drapes were gathered back with gold cording, waiting to be pulled, and a squat stove with an intricate grill was nearby. Fresh cornflowers graced a side table, and a small dining table with two chairs was in a corner. It was more luxurious than my own chamber at home.

“And your quarters?” I asked.

“Over there.”

A dozen yards away, a similar tent had been erected. A short distance that seemed so far. We hadn't slept apart since we left the Sanctum. I had grown accustomed to feeling his arm around my waist, the warmth of his breath on my neck, and I couldn't imagine him not being with me tonight, especially now that we finally had what might be called real privacy.

I smoothed back a lock from his face. His lids were heavy. “You've gotten no rest, have you?”

“Not yet. There will be time for that later—”

“Rafe,” I said, stopping him. “Some things can't be put off until later. We still haven't talked about your parents. Are you all right?”

He let the tent curtain drop, blocking out the lantern light, and we were in darkness again. “I'm fine,” he said.

I cradled his face and drew him closer, our foreheads touching, our breaths mingling, and it seemed tears swelled in both our throats. “I'm sorry, Rafe,” I whispered.

His jaw tensed beneath my touch. “I was where I needed to be. With you. My parents would understand.” Each word he spoke throbbed in the space between us. “My being with them wouldn't have changed anything.”

“But you could have said good-bye.”

His arms circled around me, holding me tight, and it felt like all the grief he would ever be allowed was in that grip. I could think only of the cruelty of his new position and what was immediately expected of him.

His hold finally loosened, and he looked at me, tired creases at the corners of his eyes, a smile through his exhaustion.

“Stay with me?” I asked.

His lips met mine, and he whispered against them between kisses. “Are you trying to seduce me, Your Highness?”

“Absolutely,” I said, and leisurely ran the tip of my tongue along his lower lip like it was my final course of the evening.

He pulled away slightly and sighed. “We're in the middle of an outpost with a hundred eyes watching—probably right now from the dining room windows.”

“You didn't seem to be worried about what others thought when you kissed me in there.”

“I was overcome with the moment. Besides, kissing you and staying the night in your tent are two different things.”

“You're afraid you'll taint my reputation?”

An evil grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I'm afraid you'll taint mine.”

I punched him playfully in the ribs, but then felt the smile fade from my face. I understood protocol—especially with royals. By the gods, I had lived with it my entire life. I also knew Rafe was in an especially delicate position now, all eyes newly trained on him. But we had both nearly died. I was tired of waiting. “I want to be with you, Rafe. Now. It seems waiting is all we've ever done. I don't care what anyone thinks. What if there are no tomorrows? What if now is all we'll ever have?”

He reached up and gently pressed his finger to my lips. “Shhh. Don't ever say that. We have a lifetime ahead of us, a hundred tomorrows and more. I promise. That's what all this has been about. Every breath, every step I've taken has been for our future together. There's nothing I want more than to disappear into this tent with you, but I do care what they think. They've only just met you, and I've already disregarded every protocol expected of a prince.”

I sighed. “And now you're king.”

“But I can at least come in and light the stove for you. That won't take me long.”

I told him I could light it myself, but he pulled aside the curtain and led me in, and I didn't protest further. He checked the flue in the tall round chimney that vented through the top of the tent, and then lit the kindling. He sat back on the side of the bed, watching to make sure the wood caught. I walked around the tent, brushing my fingers along the bed drapes, taking in the extravagance.

“This really wasn't all necessary, Rafe,” I said over my shoulder.

I heard him poking at the wood. “Where else would you stay? In the soldiers' barracks?”

“Anything would be a luxury compared to where I have been sleeping.” I spotted my belongings on the table. They were carefully placed in a neat pile, but the saddlebag was gone. I pulled my hairbrush from the stack and began pulling pins from my hair, undoing all of Adeline's beautiful work. “Or I could have slept in Madam Rathbone's sitting room. Though her husband might not have—”

I heard an odd thump and turned. The poker had slipped from Rafe's grasp and now lay on the floor.

It appeared I was going to get my wish after all.

“Rafe?”

He was out cold. He lay on my bed, his feet still on the floor, and his hands limp at his sides. I walked over and whispered his name again, but he didn't respond. Even a stubborn king could stay awake only so long. I pulled his boots off, and he barely stirred. Next came his belts. I couldn't wrestle with his deadweight, so the clothes would have to stay. I lifted up his legs and turned them so he was fully on the bed. He mumbled a few incoherent words about leaving and then didn't utter another sound. I removed my pauldron and jewelry and struggled to unlace the leather corset on my own. Once I extinguished the chandelier lights, I curled up on the bed beside him and pulled the furs over both of us. His face was serene, glowing in the firelight. “Rest, sweet farmer,” I whispered. I kissed his cheek, his chin, his lips, memorizing every inch of his skin beneath my touch.
A hundred tomorrows.
I laid my head on the pillow next to his and slid my hand around his waist, holding him, still afraid he might slip away and our tomorrows would never come.

 

CHAPTE
R
TWE
N
TY-THREE

I sensed him slipping from beneath my arm in the midde of the night, but I thought he had just rolled over. When I woke early the next morning, he was gone. All I found was a servant with wary eyes and a tray of tarts, dried fruit, and cream. She set it on the table and curtsied.

“I'm Tilde. His Majesty told me to tell you he had meetings and would check on you later. In the meantime, I am to help with anything you require.”

I looked down at the rumpled gown I had slept in. “Madam Rathbone is sending more clothes over soon,” Tilde said. “She also wanted to know if you wanted your other belongings cleaned or … burned.”

I knew they assumed everything should be burned. The clothing was beyond repair, but my boots, and especially Walther's baldrick, were not things I could let go, and then when I thought of it, the remains of the dress of many hands was not something I could let go of either. I told her I would clean the items myself if she would bring them to me.

“I'll take care if it right away, ma'am.” She curtsied and scurried out of the tent.

I brushed my hair, pulled on the dainty slippers Vilah had lent me, and left to find Colonel Bodeen's office.

The thick walls of the outpost were bright in the morning sun. Everything about the garrison was pristine—and intimidating in its order. It exuded the confidence of a kingdom that was strong all the way down to its foundation. Even the ground between the buildings was covered with neatly raked gravel the color of marmalade. It crunched lightly beneath my feet as I approached a long building that looked similar to the dining hall, but that had only small high windows. Perhaps they wanted no one to see who met within.

The officers looked up in surprise when I opened the door, but neither Rafe, Sven, nor Colonel Bodeen was present.

“Your Highness,” Lieutenant Belmonte said as he rose to his feet. “Is there something we can do for you?”

“I was told we would meet today. I came to continue our discussion of last night. About the Vendan army. You need to be aware—”

Captain Hague dropped a thick stack of papers onto the table with a loud thud. “The king has already informed us of developments in Venda,” he said, and then added pointedly while surveying my rumpled dress, “while you were still sleeping.”

I smoothed out my dress. “I respect what the king may have already told you, but he didn't see what I saw when—”

“Are you a trained soldier, Your Highness?”

He cut me off so sharply he may as well have slapped me. The sting hissed through the air. So this was how it was to be? I leaned forward, my palms flat on the table, and met his stare. “Yes, I
am
, Captain, though perhaps trained with a different eye than yours.”

“Oh, of course,” he said, sitting back in his chair, his tone ripe with disdain. “That's right. The Morrighese army does do things a little differently. It must have something to do with that
gift
of yours.” He shot a grin at an officer next to him. “Go ahead, then. Why don't you tell us just what you think you saw?”

The ass. Apparently Rafe's claim of me as his future queen carried little weight with the captain—as long as the king wasn't present—but I couldn't let my pride nor contempt keep me from sharing what they needed to know. So I told them everything I knew about the army city.

“A hundred thousand armed soldiers is a staggering claim,” he said when I finished. “Especially for a people as backward as the barbarians.”

“They are not so backward,” I countered. “And the men I rode in with, Kaden and Griz, can confirm what I've told you.”

Captain Hague rose from his chair, his face splotched with sudden color. “May I remind you, Your Highness, we have just lost twenty-eight men to the barbarians. The only way we'll be gathering information from savages like them will be at the end of a knotted whip.”

I leaned forward. “And it is clear you would prefer to gain it from me in the same way.”

Captain Azia laid a hand on Hague's arm and whispered something to him. Hague sat down.

“Please understand, Your Highness,” Azia said, “the loss of the platoon has been a bitter blow to all of us, especially to Captain Hague. One of his cousins was a soldier in the unit.”

My hands slid from the table, and I stood straight, taking a calming breath. I understood grief. “My condolences, Captain. I'm sorry for your loss. But please make no mistake. I owe a debt to the men you slander, and if they are not invited to our table, do not expect to see me there either.”

His wiry brows fell low over his eyes. “I will convey your wishes to Colonel Bodeen.”

I was just turning to leave when a door at the back of the room opened and Colonel Bodeen, along with Sven, Rafe, and Tavish emerged. They startled when they saw me, and Rafe's eyes turned briefly sharp as if I had undermined him.

“I was just leaving,” I said. “It seems you've already taken care of matters here.”

I was out the door and halfway down the stairs before Rafe stepped out on the veranda and stopped me. “Lia, what's wrong?”

“I thought we were going to meet with the officers together.”

He shook his head, his expression apologetic. “You were asleep. I didn't want to wake you. But I told them everything you told me.”

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