The Assassin: (Mortal Beloved Time Travel Romance, #2) (25 page)

She sighed and pushed herself to standing. “I think, Tomasis, my answer is a definite yes.” She smiled at him and reluctantly followed her father.
 

I wasn’t allowed to take Scout into the palace with me so I entrusted him to Tomasis and Dario’s care. “Take good care of my baby.” I buried my face in the ruff around Scout’s neck, hugged him tight, kissed his gorgeous head, and ruffled his fur as he wagged his tail.

“Are you trying to squeeze him to death?” Tomasis asked.
 

“Papa, he has such big teeth,” Dario said.

I let Scout go and shoved back tears. My dog barked and wagged his tail. Dario ran to him, dropped to his knees and tried to peer inside his mouth.

“Dario! Do not touch his teeth,” Tomasis said. “Do you like your teeth being touched?”
 

I started giggling as I wiped away a few tears.

“Do not worry, Nadja,” Tomasis said. “We will treat him like he is royalty in our home. Besides, you will see this mongrel soon enough.”
 

“Right,” I said knowing that the odds of that weren’t great. “Right.”

He whistled to Scout who ran toward him wagging his tail. “Let us go play for a bit, yes?” The boys walked off together, happy.

~ ~ ~

Now that I was back in the castle, I thought King Pedro would summon me for a de-briefing of sorts. But no such thing happened. After several hours had passed, I prowled the premises hoping to run into Samuel.
 

There was excitement in the air as peasants and the help scurried about preparing for a party. Aromas of roasted meats, fine spices, and mulled wine wafted from the kitchens. I peeked inside the main one and saw the makings of a huge feast. Outside the grand hall I spotted a handful of men lugging two large, gilded ornately carved chairs into the room. “Be careful,” a man said who was overseeing the workers.

“You try lugging these thrones, Juan. I think they have boulders in them.” A beefy man rested the chair down and wiped his sweaty brow. “What on earth does King Pedro want them moved here for?”

“How would I know?” Juan asked. “Besides, it is not your job to ask questions.”

They situated the thrones front and center on a low stage deep into the room. All these preparations had to be for King Pedro’s coronation party, or at least a fancy
 

celebration. After all, two of Inêz’s assassins were caught, justice would finally be served, and I hoped His Highness would be able to forgive himself, parent his children, and find a better nickname than “The Cruel.”

Someone pinched my arm and I jumped.

“Oh, Nadja!” Miri said. “We are finally back in the safety of the palace and there is to be a great party! Are you as excited as I am?”

“I’d be more excited if people would stop sneaking up on me,” I said.

“We are home and you have nothing to worry about! I have to cook and you have to serve, but I have a feeling tonight will be so much fun! Come! Let us get ready. I think I shall wear my fanciest dress tonight.”

“That means you’ve already butchered the pigs?”

“You know me so well.” She smiled. “Hurry!”

~ thirty-one ~

I wore the gorgeous red gown that Jorge dug up and gave me the day I was baptized. The first time I pulled it over my head and smoothed the skirt, I felt embarrassed. The dress was clean, but worn, and the silk was frayed in spots. Now it was the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen. The gown was still too big for me so I borrowed a corset from one of my skinny roommates. Miri pulled on its strings and helped cinch it tight around my waist.
 

She combed my hair and braided locks, arranging them so that they wrapped along the side of my head and fell down my back. “Oh, Nadja,” she said. “You look so beautiful.”

“You do, too,” I said. Miri’s complexion was pale, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and her eyes sparkling. “You look like a girl who’s in love.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” She blushed.

“You have every idea what I’m talking about,” I said.

“I never thought I would meet someone like Tomasis, let alone believe he would fancy me. Come on. We have work to do. If I am lucky, I will be kissing the most handsome man in all of Portugal under the moonlight after King Pedro’s festivities.”

~ ~ ~

Torches flickered high on the walls illuminating the grand hall. Garlands of pine branches draped over the tables and hung in decorative arrangements on the wall. The room smelled like a musty forest with a hint of sweetness that seemed familiar but I couldn’t place it.

King Pedro sat at the head of a table in the front of the hall. He was cleaned up; his hair was cut and combed. He wore spotless, rich looking clothes. Platters of food and tankards of ale and wine filled the tabletop. A few of his male friends, allies, and high-ranking guards surrounded him.
 

The Queen Mother chatted with her Ladies several rows over. A gaggle of King Afonso’s two-faced advisors huddled on benches directly in front of His Royal Highness’ grouping. Odd that Pedro would keep them so close. I thought he would have banished them, or at least, stuck them at the worst table in the room.

Thick, majestic full-length velvet curtains had been erected in front of the thrones, concealing them from the partygoers who were pouring into the hall. The guests were a mixture of well-dressed nobility and wealthy merchants accompanied by their wives and mistresses dressed in expensive gowns and glittering jewelry. I still hadn’t laid eyes on Samuel. He had to be here. I couldn’t imagine that he’d leave without at least telling me goodbye.

I made run after run, back and forth from the kitchen to the hall; my tray piled high with food and drink on the way out, and filled with dirty plates, platters, and goblets on the return. At one point, I could swear King Pedro was staring at me. But when I met his eyes, they were blank and he turned and looked off into the distance, as if he didn’t even know who I was.
 

I finally spotted Samuel seated close to an exit leading away from the hall. He nodded at me curtly, rose from his seat, and maneuvered through a thick ring of guards who stood tall on alert surrounding the room. I wondered why the security was so tight.

I put my tray down in the kitchen and left to meet up with him when a guard materialized at the exit blocking my way. I backpedaled and whispered to Miri. “What’s up with all the security?”

She shrugged. “I heard there is a special celebration planned for tonight. No one is allowed in and out for a bit. Although you can probably change that man’s mind with a warm smile and a tankard of wine.”

~ ~ ~

Miri was right; a smile, some booze, and a promise to return as soon as I grabbed my wrap were all it took for the guard to let me leave the kitchen. As soon as I was out of his sight, I raced down hallways until I spotted Samuel half hidden behind a stone column.
 

He grabbed my hand, pulled me to him, and kissed me. “I missed you,” he said. “I’m riddled with foolish fears that played tricks with my mind and insisted I would never see you again.”

Unfortunately, his thoughts weren’t at all foolish.

I stood on my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Just kiss me,” I said. “Kiss me like we only have tonight.”

And he did. His hands fisted my hair, twisting locks between his fingers as he pressed against me, and moaned my name. “Nadja, Nadja. I love you, truly I do. Do you love me? You said it once in passing. Say it again. I need you to say it again.”

But my name wasn’t Nadja; it was Madeline and I was from the future. I couldn’t decide if I felt like the luckiest girl in the world or the biggest asshat. Whether I died in this life or traveled back to my real life in present day Chicago, I was still a liar. Another cheat, yet another deceiver in Samuel’s life who led him on, and eventually would leave him all alone.
 

I couldn’t be that person anymore. I just couldn’t.

My breath hitched in my chest, I pulled away from him, and I couldn’t even look him in his beautiful hazel eyes. “Samuel,” I said. “I have to tell you something important.”

“I know, I know. I have to tell you something important as well.” He pulled me flush against him and kissed me again.

I wanted his arms wrapped around me, his lips on mine. I wanted to laugh with him in any lifetime. I wanted to cry with him in happiness and sadness. I wanted him here and now—I wanted him forever. And yet this all felt so very fragile, like catching that snowflake. I was going to pull away from him again, I swear I was, but he beat me to it.

“I apologize,” he said, breathing heavily. “I normally have restraint. You probably think I am an entitled noble, a brute—”

“No I don’t,” I said. “Stop it. Just tell me.”

“Nadja, I fear that when we go into that room that we do not exit being the same people,” he said. “I fear everything will change. You need to know—”

“I love you, too,” I said. “Nothing you can tell me will change that.” I took his hand and kissed it once.
 

He cradled my cheek with one hand and traced my face and then my lips with his finger. “I would petition King Pedro to allow us to be together,” he whispered. “He of all people understands what it is like to love someone you are not allowed to love. Or, you and I could just leave Portugal and journey to… Constantinople, or The Kingdom of Sicily. A place no one knows us, or cares about our backgrounds, or stations in life. A place we can be free.”

My heart ached. As much as I wanted to follow Samuel to any world
—how could I tell him that I already had?
If I didn’t return to present day Chicago, thousands of hearts would
not
be broken, but the few that
would
were precious to me: my dad, Sophie, Chaka and Aaron, and my younger sister, Jane. Maybe even Ryan’s.

And the bittersweet and crazy-making part of this story was that Lord Samuel De Rocha from medieval Portugal would miss me, but Samuel Delacroix from present day Chicago would not. I couldn’t even begin to try and make sense of that. I struggled to find a way to tell him and then decided to just go with the truth. I took a deep breath.

“Do you remember the man in the meadow who was looking for a girl named Madeline?” I asked.

“How could I forget?” he said. “You were so frightened. But I set him straight. I told him that you are Nadja and that he was mistaken.”

“That’s what I need to tell you,” I said dreading my next words, wishing that I could keep them captured and hidden quiet inside me.
 

“You can tell me anything as long as you breathe. I worry when you are not breathing,” he said.

I inhaled. I exhaled.
 

“Better,” he said.

“Samuel, that man was not mistaken. I am not your ‘Nadja,’” I said. “I’ve never really been anyone’s ‘Nadja.’ My real name is Madeline Blackford.”

He backed away from me so quickly I feared he’d bounce off a wall. “What do you mean, you are not Nadja? Who is Madeline Blackford?”

“You were in the ruins and you were praying for guidance; probably just days before Inêz de Castro was assassinated.”

“How do you know about that?” He glared at me confused.

I looked away. “You knelt on the ground, gazed up at the night sky, and you asked,
‘Whatever your given name, I beg you, hear my requests. I do not know whom I should trust.’”

“I repeat.” He strode the few steps toward me. “How do you know about that?”

I wrung my hands. “You said,
‘Both choices are bloody…So much could be lost and so many lives could be changed. Please, just give me a sign. Send me a message.’”
I blinked back tears.

He paced. “How is that possible?” He frowned and raked his fingers through his thick black hair all the way to the ends that curled right where they brushed his shirt’s neckline.

He was going to hate me. He was going to hate me, and then he was going to leave me, and I would never see him again.

“Is this witchcraft?” he asked.

“No! You know I faked the reading I gave King Pedro. I’m not a witch,” I said.

“Then how can this be?”

“Something bigger and more powerful than me pulled me to you, Samuel,” I said. “I was the one who heard your prayers.”
 

“I don’t understand? How could you hear my prayers?” He asked. “You are not my Nadja?”

I shook my head. “I am not anyone’s Nadja. I’m not a gypsy. I’m not from Portugal, Castile, or Galicia. And, the worst part is that I’m not from this time
.
You asked for a message. I’m from Chicago, Illinois hundreds of years in the future. I traveled back in time for you, Samuel. I journeyed across all these centuries to find you. My name is Madeline Blackford.
And I’m your message.”

~ thirty-two ~

“Lord De Rocha,” the guard who allowed me to leave the kitchen strode toward us. “By order of King Pedro, all guests as well as servants need to be inside the grand hall for the royal festivities.”

“Of course,” Samuel said and stared at me as the man shepherded us back inside the ballroom. “How can it be possible?” He whispered. “I do not know what to believe?”

“You said I reminded you of the girl from your dreams who comforted you. I see you in my dreams, too. But maybe they aren’t simply dreams or wishes. Maybe they are real,” I said.

He shook his head. “I do not know what is real or not anymore. And still I have not told you…”

“I know.”

We were back in the grand hall and were engulfed by live music and the laughing, chatting, partying crowds. They separated us by feet and then yards. “We will talk after this is over,” he shouted over the top of a woman’s conical shaped, fancy hat.

“Samuel!” Giulia waved at him. She was already seated at his table. How did she follow him everywhere?
Did she have a lojack device planted on him?

I maneuvered through the packed event and found my way to the kitchen where I grabbed more trays and pitchers and performed my duties as a waitress. But a gnawing sensation started digging a hole in the pit of my stomach.
Something felt wrong. Something was off.
I wondered if perhaps this was the last night that Samuel and I would spend together. Maybe Time’s Maker had decided no matter what the year that our time together was finally over.