“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Anca exclaimed, clapping
hands to her cheeks, as though hiding a blush. She turned to Demi. “We have to
help.”
The family was muttering, and the boy’s hot
glare fixed on her. As soon as Demi made apologies in their language, their
angry expressions faded. He set down their cases and knelt to help gather their
items.
Anca pretended to do the same, until Demi
was kneeling with his back turned. She got up from her semi-crouch and sprinted
across the platform. She could see a sheltering stand of trees in a field
across the parking lot and pumped her legs for added speed. If she could make
it to the trees, she would be able to hide until the train came back through.
Once on the train, Demi wouldn’t be able to
get her off it. There would be train employees and security to keep her safe.
Surely, she could purchase her ticket on the train, or send one of the
employees to do so for her. Once they realized she was in danger, of course.
Would Demi follow her? Anca knew he would,
even as she asked herself the question. He appeared to be the loyal type and
had promised her father he would bring her back with him. He wouldn’t let her
escape easily.
She plunged into the stand of trees as she
heard the soles of his dress shoes skidding across the parking lot. Anca cursed
the twilight sky, wishing for full darkness. She moved deeper into the stand of
junipers and firs. They were old, and there was little room to maneuver between
them. Their proximity hampered her movements, but it made for numerous hiding
places.
She came to a thick clump of bushes
sheltering a spot between two trees. Anca dropped to her knees and slithered
through the bushes. She attempted to still them behind her, to cover her
tracks.
She huddled on the wet ground, feeling cool
mud soak into the knees of her pants. Anca struggled to control her ragged
breathing. She held her breath when she heard a twig snap near her location.
She continued to hold her breath, straining
to hear another telltale sound from Demi. She prayed the next one would be
farther from her hiding place. Her heart raced, and her head was light. When
she couldn’t stand it anymore, Anca let out her breath in a low exhale. As she
drew in another, she heard the rustle of leaves.
She cried out as Demi’s arm reached into the
bushes and lifted her out effortlessly. She tried to jerk free from his hold on
her arm, and his grip tightened. She bent forward and sank her teeth into the
back of his hand.
He stiffened, but made no move to let go of
her.
Anca bit down harder, until the sharp tang
of blood filled her mouth. She heard his breath hiss through his teeth, but it
didn’t sound like he was in pain.
A curious sensation swept through her as his
blood flowed onto her tongue. Already light-headed, the forest seemed to spin
around her. She attempted to move her mouth, but her teeth were hooked into his
flesh.
Blood spurted into her mouth, and Anca
swallowed it. The light-headed sensation faded, and a surge of renewed energy
swept through her. She looked up at Demi through the veil of her lashes. He had
thrown back his head, and he seemed to be in the throes of ecstasy.
With a frightened grasp, she tore her mouth
free. Anca cried out when she saw the jagged tears in his skin. Her eyes
fastened on the blood trickling down his hand, and she couldn’t seem to pull
her gaze from it. She whimpered when Demi brought his hand to his mouth and
licked away the blood.
His eyes were dark with passion when he
pulled her against him. His lips were anything but tender when they claimed
hers. The kiss was hot and hungry—full of urgent needs and desires.
Anca pressed her body closer to his, parting
her lips eagerly to accept his tongue. She stroked hers across his, wanting to
taste every inch of him. His blood was on both of their tongues, and the scent
and taste filled her senses. It was like the dream.
She pushed against his tongue, trying to
push hers inside his mouth. She winced when her tongue raked across her teeth.
Her canine tooth punctured her tongue, and the flash of pain brought her back
to herself. Anca pushed against him as she became aware of their surroundings.
She stared up at him, trying to make out his
expression in the deepening twilight, trying to pretend she hadn’t just drank
some of his blood and relished the experience. No! She hadn’t enjoyed it. It
had been an accident. Somehow, her teeth lodged in his skin, and when the blood
flooded her mouth, she had swallowed without thought. His kiss had aroused her,
not tasting his blood.
“Why did you run, Anca?” His voice was
hoarse with passion, and his uninjured hand shook when he brought it up to
smooth his hair.
She swallowed. “I changed my mind. Please
let me go home.”
“Valdemeer is expecting you.” He sounded
regretful. “I swore I would bring you back.”
She began wringing her hands. “What if he
won’t let me go? I don’t want to be a prisoner here.”
Demi sighed. “Your father is a good man. He
only wants what’s best for you.”
She wasn’t reassured by his answer. “I want
to go home. I don’t want to worry about being an heir to a kingdom. I don’t
want to look over my shoulder all the time. This isn’t the way I want my life
to be.”
His eyes burned with an inner light. “I will
protect you with my life, Anca. Your father would do the same. You have nothing
to fear.” He touched her cheek gently. “Nothing happens without a purpose.”
She frowned up at him dubiously. “You really
believe that?”
“It is a tenant of our beliefs. Trust me.
Come with me now and meet your father.” He held out his hand.
Anca stared down at it, reluctant to accept
his hand, but afraid not to. She didn’t think he would hurt her. Her fear was
deeper and less specific. Slowly, she raised her hand and grasped his. It felt
as though the actions of her arm were independent from her body.
“Promise me you won’t run away again?” There
was a hint of steel in his voice.
“I…” She hesitated.
“I can’t protect you if I don’t know where
you are. Promise me.” He spoke firmly, and his eyes bored into hers.
She nodded. “I promise,” she heard herself
say weakly.
* * * * *
The castle came into sight as Demi’s car
topped the last hill. The road from the capitol to the castle was a long series
of twisting curves, rising elevations, and poor roads. When she asked about the
condition of the roads, Demi told her few people had vehicles, and the horses
and wagons had little trouble with the rocky and uneven path.
She gasped softly when Castle Draganescu
came into view. It was too dark to make out all the details, but she saw three
pointed spires rising high into the sky.
Otherwise, the castle resembled a solid
rectangle, with chimneys sprouting from the roof. It looked older than she
could imagine, except for a rounded tower on the side that didn’t quite mesh
with the older style. The stone looked newer, and it had more of a baroque
appearance than most traditional Eastern European castles.
“How old is it?” she asked with awe. Why had
her mother walked away from all this? She had spent years working three jobs,
and all that time she could have lived the life of a queen. Had it truly been
necessary for Kathryn to turn her back on her home and position to protect her
child?
“About a thousand-years-old.” Demi pointed
to the tower as they went down the hill. “Except the tower. It was added two
hundred years ago.”
Anca’s eyebrows lifted when they neared the
opened drawbridge. Two men in gray uniforms stood guard on each side of it.
They waved Demi’s car through with a brisk salute.
“Is this on the tour schedule?”
He glanced at her briefly as he pulled up
near the smaller main entrance—though “smaller” was a relative term, since the
wooden doors blocking entrance to the castle were at least ten-foot high.
“Pardon?”
“You know, the tourist stops. You could
probably make enough from admissions to pave the roads.”
He shut off the engine and engaged the
parking brake as the heavy doors creaked open, and four people scurried out to
meet them. “We have no need—“
“Without cars, sure, but with an economic
boost, everyone could afford cars.”
He sighed. “Most of us are content with our
way of life.”
She sensed his annoyance with the topic and
closed her mouth quickly to avoid offering any further unwanted advice. After
all, what did she know of running a country? Nothing. Moreover, she wanted to
keep it that way.
Before she could formulate an innocuous
response, the passenger door opened, and a man was bowing to her. He wore
simple trousers, a cotton shirt, and a quilted vest. His garments could have
fit well with any period in history during the last five hundred years. “Your
Highness,” he greeted obsequiously.
She almost looked over her shoulder before
she remembered she was whom he addressed. It was disconcerting to go from plain
Anca to something so pretentious. However, she restrained the urge to tell him
to use her first name. She imagined the lack of protocol would shock him.
“Hello,” she said instead, with a shaky smile. When in Rome, er, Corsova…
He offered his hand to assist her from the
car. She took it and slid out. He immediately dropped his light hold and bowed
again.
“Thanks.”
A woman who had remained a few steps away
surged forward. She was middle-aged, with a heavy frame, curling gray-black
hair, and a simple cotton tunic and pants. She curtsied with surprising grace,
and her generous bosom threatened to spill from the top of her low-cut shirt.
“Welcome, m’lady. His Majesty eagerly awaits news of your arrival.”
“I’m here,” she said, trying not to sound
flustered. If the groveling was any indication of what she could expect for the
next few days, she would go insane. Anca didn’t realize how stiff she was until
she felt the light touch of Demi’s hand at her waist.
“This is Luiza, the cook.” He turned
slightly to the man who had greeted her. “This is Geza, the steward.” He waved
the other two servants nearer. The girl, with her thick, dark hair bound in a
bun, curtsied when Demi’s eyes rested on her. “Helena will be your personal
attendant during your stay.”
The other man bowed once at the waist when
Demi turned to him. His eyes glinted with an unidentifiable emotion, and his
expression was stern. “Petru is in charge of security here at the castle.”
Anca didn’t know whether to curtsey in
return, incline her head imperiously, or ignore the greetings. In the end, she
smiled and said a soft, “Hello.”
Demi glanced down at the muddy knees of her
slacks. “You will no doubt wish to change before meeting His Majesty. I will
show you to your rooms.” He nodded to Geza. “Please bring up the princess’s
luggage.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
Anca followed Demi into the castle, and she
was pleasantly surprised to find electric lights. She had half-expected torches
on the wall and candles in holders, judging from the time warp the rest of the
country seemed to be stuck in.
As Demi led her through the castle, she
absorbed it all with wide-eyed wonder. Threadbare tapestries hung on the walls,
portraying people and events she assumed were from the history of the country.
Her shoes made a clunking sound when the soles landed on the hard stone. An
occasional fur or woven rug was scattered throughout the entryway.
Three large dogs napped near the fireplace.
As they walked past them, the dogs lifted their heads and sniffed. Their eyes
seemed more intelligent than any dog’s she had ever seen, and she realized they
were wolves. The smallest, palest brown one growled low in its throat, until
the dark-brown wolf nudged it with its head. The palest one subsided into
silence, though its gaze still seemed watchful.
Demi glanced over his shoulder. “Sorin,
Lucian, and Starr. They are loyal to your family. When you win their trust,
they will never leave you.”
Anca nodded, pretending she wasn’t terrified
of the wolves behind her, and pretending she didn’t think it was strange to
have them as pets.
As they left the main chamber, dominated by
the large table and a dozen sturdy chairs, Demi walked up a set of winding
stone stairs. The wooden banister glowed, indicating years of care and use. She
grabbed hold for support and found it smooth to the touch.
The stairs seemed to go on forever before
they emerged onto the next landing. “This way.” Demi walked down the hall and
turned in front of a set of double doors. He pushed one open, and they stepped
into a hall with another set of stairs. “Your wing is on the next floor.”
Her eyes widened at the word wing. Never in
her life had she had a room bigger than fourteen feet by fourteen feet. She
followed him up the stairs—this set climbed straight up at a steep angle—and
they stepped onto the third-floor seconds later. A dark-red rug, bordered with
green and gold leaves, covered the expanse of the hallway.
Demi turned to the right, and Anca followed.
He stopped before a massive set of dark mahogany doors farther down the hallway
and twisted the gold handle. The door swung open without even a creak, and he
stepped back to allow her to precede him.