Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice Book 2) (6 page)

“There are certain chambers I am to avoid unaccompanied until our wedding day has arrived, my lady.” Zayne turned from his flustered fiancée to her brother. “Forgive me, Your Highness. Princess Adelaide sought my presence upon hearing a strange noise outside her window. She sought your counsel first, of course, but was unable to find you.”

Tristan’s eyes narrowed.

“Um, it’s true,” said Addie. “I did hear a noise. A scratching, scraping noise. Like someone was trying to scale the wall outside.”

“Oh?” Tristan’s gaze grew wary. “And did you see anything?”

“No, I was too afraid to look. Which you probably think was silly of me.” She looked to the floor, color clouding her cheeks. Oh, but his angel could be quite the little devil when she felt so moved. If Zayne had not known better, he would have fully believed her.

“Not at all,” said Tristan. “Forgive me for being absent in your time of need, sister. Please, allow me to check the room before you retire for the night.”

“Do you think there could’ve been someone out there?” she asked.

Tristan’s gaze shifted from hers. “No, certainly not. Most likely what you heard was a tree branch scratching the stone on a breeze. But as I can see you are quite upset by the sound, I shall check your chambers for anything out of the ordinary before we all bid each other good night.”

With that he offered them both a small bow, then disappeared into Adelaide’s dimly lit room. It bothered Zayne to know the prince had just lied to his sister, especially when he himself had just promised never to do so. Unfortunately, secrecy and lies were often the ways of royals. Ways he vowed to abandon for Addie’s sake. As his future queen, she deserved to know all that he knew.

And as independent as she was in her former lands, she would surely stand for no less.

“Why would he lie to me?” she whispered.

“To keep you free from worry, my lady.”

She shook her head. “Well, that’s a lost cause.”

“Do not waste your hours consumed by worry, Addie.”

“Easy for you to say. You aren’t stuck inside a foreign castle filled with strangers all day, being lied to about your safety while there are crazy witches outside waiting for the chance to snatch you up and hold you for ransom. Or worse.”

Zayne cupped her delicate face in his hands and waited to speak until her gaze slowly shifted to his. “I pledge to keep you safe from harm, sweet Adelaide. Always.”

“And while that means more to me that you could ever know, you can’t possibly be with me every minute of the day.”

He scanned her silken blue gown. “A shame, that.”

“Don’t try to distract me, I’m being serious.”

He bent to run his lips along the outer edge of her ear, pleased with himself when she shivered in response. “I promised you defense training, and you shall have it.”

“When?”

“Soon. But not from me. And not until you better understand the ways of our kingdoms.”

“Great. So until then, I’m pretty much a sitting duck.” She drew back and cast a dark look upon him. “What if the witches come for me?”

“They will not. But if by some miracle I am wrong, simply do what you do best.”

“What’s that?”

Zayne grinned and pecked a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Why, stumble and scream, of course.”

Addie’s eyes narrowed to mere slits. Before she could rally a rebuttal, however, her brother reemerged from her room, signaling an end to their time together this night. Though the image of her in that gown and the memory of her pressed tight against him would keep Zayne’s mind ensnared by desire for hours.

Curse these rules, and curse the fortnight that separated Adelaide and him from their wedding. But the days would pass soon enough. Besides, a little extra time would allow him to seek answers from his mother about the witches’ true plans involving his betrothed and her family.

After all, the witches were very much a part of his.

R
osalind awoke with a start
.

Daylight? How could it possibly be daylight? She lifted her head and looked around, trying to make sense of the view. Before her was a clean but rustic hut made of wood rather than the familiar stone of Forath Castle. The roof overhead was thatch, the windows mere coverings over open holes. A hint of smoke lingered in the air she breathed, as did the scent of drying herbs.

At least she had not been captured and returned to her father. Not yet, anyway.

Rosalind sat up and grimaced at how every muscle in her body seemed stiffer than ever before. The primitive cot on which she had apparently slept creaked beneath her shifting weight. It was less sturdy than her bed at the castle, but its coverings were just as soft and their colors far more vibrant.

“I was beginning to wonder if ye planned to sleep the day away.”

Jaxon. Even after spending but half a day with the man, she would forever recognize the deep timbre of his voice and its melodious, confident pace. But whenever had she fallen asleep? And how had she gotten here?

Rosalind pulled the cot’s quilt to her bosom, unused to feeling such a lack of control. And though fury raced through her like fire on the driest of fields, one dark look cast at the man sitting hearthside across the room from her only served to stoke her ire. Because he was beautiful, strikingly so, and her traitorous pulse raced at the sight of him.

Unlike the men at her castle who wore tunics and armor or robes and furs, Jaxon wore neither. His pants looked to be of the softest of leathers, colored a deep brown, and fit like a second skin to his long, lean legs. The shirt he wore was ivory in color and of a different fashion from anything she’d seen before. There were no buttons or strings, only clean lines and a collar that formed a V at his chest, offering a glimpse of fine russet hair which matched that of his thick, wavy locks. Today those locks were no longer pulled back from his face but hung loose upon his shoulders, still wet from an early morning bathe, and his feet were yet bare.

“Now, before ye jump up and start screaming about your sleeping here, Princess, let me first say two things. One, the sleeping potion was to protect, not harm ye, and two, I did no’ lay so much as a finger upon your snowy white skin.”

“You
drugged
me? Do you have any idea—”

“How that makes ye feel? No. But had I no’ placed ye in my own bed, a floor in another hut is where you would have slept last night. And likely not alone.”

He rose to his full height, drawing her gaze along with him. And a fine specimen he was. Fire rushed to her cheeks. “Perhaps I would have preferred the floor.”

“Aye, but you would no’ have enjoyed the company. Or so I have heard.” He crossed the room, his stride undeterred by her petulance, and stopped to kneel before her. The teasing look vanished from his countenance. “What do ye remember from yesterday, lass?”

Rosalind tried to look away from his gaze, from the dim glow of his russet eye and the clouded look of his other, but again found she could not. “I remember the flight and the arrows, the wall and how you somehow flew straight through it—how were we able to pass through solid rock?”

“The rock is but a trick of the eye. There exists a cavern leading to Edana, hidden from view by a spell of illusion cast by those among us who are skilled in such ways.”

She frowned. “But what would keep Forath’s guards from following your path?”

“They never approach the cavern, as wards have been cast all around its location to bring feelings of unease and fear to anyone—man or beast—who draws near it. Tell me, what else do you remember?”

Rosalind squirmed beneath his stare, the space around them beginning to feel far too small. “We flew a short distance beyond there, and landed in a meadow at the edge of a wide field. You both returned to human form, offered me a drink of water, and—”

She narrowed her eyes. The water. It must have been tainted.

“And how do ye feel?” Still his gaze commanded her attention, just as his questions demanded her answers be voiced. Was she under a spell even now?

“Sore. Stiff.
Angry
.”

Jaxon responded with deep, rolling laughter. “I like a woman who is no’ afraid to speak her mind.”

“Oh? And here I thought that was perhaps why you had drugged me—to keep me from speaking my mind sooner.”

“No, it was to keep you from seeing the path to Weston. I suggested a blindfold, but the others thought this a wiser option.”

“Weston?” Rosalind knew of no such place.

“Come, I will show you. We will visit the well first, so you may cleanse the dirt from your hands and face. I have no clean clothes to offer ye, as we are hardly alike in size, but my mother is sure to have a gown ye may borrow.”

He rose to his feet and offered her a large, calloused hand—a welcome change from the usual incessant royal pretenses offered by the servants in her former life. Though her private bathing quarters she did indeed miss. And while she was still furious at being drugged and carried off like a hunter’s bounty, they were petty matters in comparison to the throne she sought to reclaim.

Magic—it was magic she sought, which could send Adelaide back to wherever she’d come from. Until such magic was found, Rosalind would endure what she must to acquire it. Hopefully, Jaxon would lead her to another in their clan able to do more than transform into a dragon and convince unsuspecting foreign lasses to drink sleeping potions.

She placed a hand in his. “Your mother? Is she the town seamstress?”

Jaxon chuckled, the sound less bold than before as he helped her to her feet. “No, and I dare say ye should no’ address her in that way if ye wish to remain among us.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

A flash of white greeted her as his smile widened. “’Tis no’ the way to address our queen.”

Z
ayne stood
in the scroll room at Forath Castle, reading the message he’d penned for his mother. It was answers he sought today, as he was certain Adelaide would soon rise and demand to know them as well. Answers that she rightfully deserved and might help to soothe her worry.

Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Zayne quickly rolled the parchment closed to keep his inquiries from view.

“Homesick so soon?”

He held his tongue at Tristan’s taunting. Instead, he secured the scroll’s edge with melted wax, pressed his royal seal into the pliable red substance, and handed it to the castle’s head scribe before finally turning to address the son of his royal host.

“Wherever Princess Adelaide resides, so too becomes my home. My mother, however, I do miss dearly when I am away.”

He offered Tristan a cursory smile and walked from the room. Much to his chagrin, Addie’s twin fell in step beside him.

“And your father?” Tristan asked.

“Rarely do I miss him. The feeling is mutual, I am afraid.”

“Perhaps if you spent more time learning the ways of his kingdom and less luring women into bed, your circumstances would be different.”

Zayne offered him a second smile instead of the fist he so longed to plant in the prince’s smug countenance and kept his pace leisurely. This was not a discussion he wished to reach the ears of his betrothed, as it would only serve to distress her further. That her twin could not sense her vexation was highly frustrating. Though from the frequent petulant quips Tristan had offered since his arrival, Zayne sensed insecurity buried deep within the prince. Insecurity bred from something greater than Zayne and Brom’s unannounced arrival yesterday.

“I see the rumors of my lust-filled youth have extended beyond the land of Edana. And while not entirely false, they have always been and continue to be greatly exaggerated.” Zayne lowered his voice and extended an elbow playfully into Tristan’s side. “Though surely a prince such as yourself can relate.”

The man stiffened rather than return the jest. “Noblemen, sir, do not behave in such a way.”

“Neither do virgins, it seems.”

Tristan double-stepped to block Zayne’s path, his eyes narrowed and cheeks flushed bright with anger. “I will not stand silently by and watch you crush Adelaide’s spirit in the same manner with which you crushed Princess Rosalind’s.”

At this, Zayne was taken aback. Surely, the prince was not as naïve as that? He started to respond, realized an attack of words would do neither of them any good, then cleared his throat and started again.

“It was never my intention to hurt Princess Rosalind. Though, in all fairness, I had no desire to marry your half sister either. My parents were forced into a marriage of convenience, and I have witnessed firsthand the toll it has taken on them both. As such, I thank the heavens daily for Adelaide’s return, as she is my one true mate.”

“Is that so?”

Zayne’s patience began to wear thin. He stepped forward, unafraid of Tristan’s shorter, slender frame. “I would lay down my life to keep her safe.”

“Good.” Tristan leaned forward with narrowed eyes. “Because if you dare hurt another of my sisters, it is indeed your life I will seek to extinguish.”

Footsteps sounded behind them. Both men took a step apart as Zayne spied Addie and a servant woman fluttering about his betrothed like a worried mother bird. Adelaide had one arm cradled to her chest, and in an instant, his verbal sparring was forgotten, the battle insignificant compared to the concern for his betrothed that flooded Zayne as he strode forward.

“Really, I’m fine. It’s just a scratch. I—” Addie saw him and stopped, a smile blossoming upon her lips. “Good morning.”

“Are you hurt, my lady?”

She drew her arms behind her. “No, I tripped. Stupid rug. Skinned my elbow is all.”

“Perhaps we should—”

“No. Whatever you’re going to say, no. I don’t need a doctor, I don’t need a handmaiden or a foot maiden or any maiden. I just need…” She stopped, pinched the top of her nose, and drew in a deep breath.

“Perhaps a bit of fresh air would do you good?”

A look of relief settled upon her features. “Yes, I would love that. Along with that history lesson you promised me.”

Zayne offered her his arm. “Your wish is my command, my lady.”

“It had very well better be,” Tristan muttered under his breath as he stalked away, leaving Zayne to wonder just how deep the animosity between their families ran…

…and if a single marriage to their newly returned princess would be enough to reverse it.

* * *

A
ddie took
Zayne’s arm as he led her down the stairway and toward the castle’s inner courtyard. Servants curtseyed as they passed, looking upon them as always with keen interest.

“You seemed consumed by dark thoughts this morn, my lady.”

“Sorry, Zayne,” she whispered. “I just… I’m not used to being babied, is all.”

“They are merely doing what they have been hired to do, Adelaide.”

She winced. After being mostly on her own these past few years and living more or less forgotten in her childhood home, her move into the castle hadn’t been an easy transition. At first she’d tried to be a good sport, tried to grin and bear it. But with each passing day, her patience waned more and more. Hell, she couldn’t even skin an elbow without people flocking to her side. Everyone wanted to help her, to dress her, to bathe her, to brush her hair, to pick her brain.

Sometimes it was enough to drive a person mad.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, where more servants stepped out of their path and curtseyed. Addie forced a smile and nodded to each. Zayne was right, of course. They were only doing what they were supposed to. She’d just have to make sure they did far less of all this wherever she and Zayne moved after the wedding. Would it be to Edana Castle, or somewhere offsite like Godfrey Manor where they’d first met? She hoped it would be the manor home—it was a thousand times more peaceful and quiet than here.

“I guess I prefer the hard love Emeline offered at Godfrey Manor.” She offered him a wink. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” he whispered back.

“Away from all…this.”

Whispers followed them as they went, ricocheting off the stone beneath their feet. A longing for freedom swelled within her as they neared the open air, and Addie found herself wishing she could fly like the prince at her side. Wishing she could just think herself into another form, then launch into the clouds and escape this place. Since that wasn’t possible, she’d just have to settle for a quiet place somewhere nearby. Maybe the woods behind the stables, which often served as the dragon landing pad. That wouldn’t be breaking the rules by much. And just in case her overbearing brother was watching, Addie angled for the castle’s inner courtyard.

The perfect place to get lost in the crowd.

Over the past few weeks, she’d tried to learn as much as she could about the daily goings-on in this crazy, mixed-up world. And if there was truly a hive of activity in the castle, the courtyard was it. Servants of all shapes and sizes, ages and duties, rushed back and forth across the vast open space from morning to night, keen on keeping their ruler and his family cared for and happy. For when King Jarin wasn’t happy, no one was.

Or so she’d heard, anyway. Each time she had been in his company, her father had been pleasant enough. And though that seemed to be less and less often, each time he had stopped whatever else he was doing to pay her his full attention. To take interest in her words, no matter the number, and smile kindly.

The whispers she heard from the servants, however, carried tales of a different king. One with little patience for his second daughter, who resented him for the perceived preferential treatment he offered to Tristan. Addie was dying to know why that was, but she didn’t feel comfortable enough asking her father. At least, not yet. Hopefully one day she would settle into a more comfortable, easy relationship with him. Today, things still felt very…intentional.

“This way.”

She tugged Zayne through the crowd, servants offering hurried greetings as they scrambled aside to allow their passage. He followed willingly, a grin tugging at his lips.

Lord, those lips. Addie looked away before she thought too much about them. Later, maybe. Once they were in the clear. And she’d gotten her answers about the witches. And that legend.

“To where exactly are you leading me, my lady?” Zayne asked.

“Someplace a little more private.”

“And yet you lead us through the center of the yard?”

“Needle in a haystack, baby,” she said. “Needle in a—”

“Good day, Princess Adelaide. Prince Zayne.”

Addie skidded to a stop before Quinn, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. With a frown, she quickly scanned the area behind him for more guards. Seeing none, she tipped her head in his direction and started to step around him. “Mr. Blackstone.”

“My apologies, Your Highness,” he said, stepping once again to block her path. “But the king has instructed me to ensure you remain within the castle walls.”

She glared up at him, frustrated her ruse had been sniffed out so quickly. “Look, I really don’t care what the—”

“Princess Adelaide.” Zayne’s hand came to rest upon her shoulder and gave it a not so subtle squeeze. “I am certain we can find a quiet place to continue your studies within the castle’s walls.”

She gritted her teeth. “Maybe I don’t want to stay within the castle’s walls.”

“Ah, but good things come to those who wait.”

“Good things come to—damn, really?” She looked to the sky. “Of all the infuriating sayings that could have followed me here…”

Zayne chuckled at her side. “Forgive the princess, Blackstone. Her rebel ways will take some time to correct.”

“So it seems.”

Addie didn’t like the tone in Quinn’s voice, nor the faint red glow that flared in his eyes. When Zayne wasn’t around, the man intimidated the hell out of her. Probably always would, after that whole stint in the dungeon. She’d seen Quinn at his worst and hoped like hell she’d never be in that position again.

“Fine. We’ll just…go someplace else.”

She turned and tugged Zayne in another direction, angling for the far side of the courtyard and the path that led toward the gardens. Foot traffic was less there, as were the noise levels. Add in the aromatic utopia of roses and several dozen other types of flowering perennials, and it was almost enough to make her forget where they were for a moment or two.

Almost.

A chicken darted out from beneath a wooden cart, squawking as a young servant boy chased after it. Addie’s hand flew to her chest in a futile attempt to keep her heart from jumping right out of it. Beside her, Zayne, clearly used to such noises and activities, barely batted an eye. Would she ever get used to the chaos?

Eventually they made it to her favorite spot on the castle grounds, a grand stone gazebo, erected in the center of a vast herb garden. It stood beyond the line of sight of most of the castle’s living quarters and aside from her room was the best place for reflection. Sort of like Superman’s Fortress of Solitude, only different. And not nearly as…solitary.

But since leaving was out of the question, this was as good a place as any to ask him the burning questions she’d harbored since overhearing her father’s conversation the night before. Questions about her family’s past behaviors and judgments. And, of course, the witches.

But when she took a seat and watched as Zayne took his, a third figure appeared in her peripheral vision. Surprised, she turned to find Quinn hovering nearby. Damn, the man was like a bad cold today.

“What?” she demanded. “Are we not still on castle grounds?”

“Aye,” Quinn said. “You are.”

“So you’re still here…why?”

“Because he does not trust that I will remain grounded.” Zayne’s voice was calm, almost too calm, and Addie sensed hers was not the only patience being tried.

“Then promise him you won’t take off with me, so he can go on his merry way.”

Zayne cast a mischievous glance at Quinn. “Even if I would offer him my word not to remove you from the premises, my lady, I foresee neither merriment nor his departure.”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed, but he finally took the hint and stepped back from the gazebo. Back, but not out of earshot. So much for picking Zayne’s brain. She exhaled a frustrated huff and threw their self-appointed chaperone a murderous glare.

“Patience, my love.” Zayne reached to tip her face toward him and brushed his lips lightly over hers. “The days until our marriage are numbered. Then you may ask me to take you wherever you please.”

He kissed her gently, then drew back and captured her with his topaz gaze. “Unless, that is, you are having second thoughts?”

“Second thoughts?” She blinked, blinked again. Where had that come from?

“I jest, Addie.”

“Good. Because there aren’t any second thoughts. You’re stuck with me, no matter what.”

He pulled her into his chest and rested his cheek upon her head. “No matter what.”

“Even if I ask too many questions?”