Amaskan's Blood, Raven Oak [read me a book .TXT] 📗

her dagger. “I apologize for that show of force, but it’s necessary to prove the point. I owe my allegiance to Princess Margaret and the protection of her life.”

“Leave us,” the King ordered, and Margaret sniffed loudly. When only the three of them remained in the room, Adelei gestured for the King to sit without thinking much of the action. Yet King Leon raised an eyebrow at the role reversal.

“Who are you to tell the King what to do?” Margaret hissed.

Adelei sat in the chair beside King Leon and ignored Margaret completely. “Have you told her nothing of the Amaskans?”

“She knows enough to know who they are and what they do.”

“But nothing of the code of honor they follow, nor the work they do to ensure the safety of kingdoms.”

The bubbling laughter made Adelei grind her teeth as she promised not to slit the spoiled brat’s throat. Margaret’s foolish grin could have set the calmest Holy Woman on edge. “A bunch of murderous thugs having honor?”

“Stop.” The sharp word from King Leon ceased all talk, and he wiped sweat from his flushed face.

“If I’m to protect her, she must be able to follow any and all orders. If she’s unwilling or unable, it may cost more than her own life. I won’t walk into a suicide mission, no matter what Master Bredych promised you,” said Adelei.

He nodded. “She will follow orders. I’ll make sure of it.”

“But she wants to take my place in the wedding. My wedding. It’s the day of my dreams, and now you’re both saying I can’t even participate.” The unlit candle she threw came within a foot of hitting Adelei, who made no move to dodge it.

“Poppet, I know this is a lot to take in, but Master Adelei’s here to protect you. I’ve appointed her your sepier.”

“I don’t want a sepier.” Margaret wrapped her robe closer about her and stood with her fists on her hips.

“I’m sorry, but you need one. I need her here to protect you.”

“What happened to Captain Warhammer?”

“She has been stripped of that rank.” When Margaret opened her mouth, he interrupted her. “I’m not going to discuss this with you, Margaret. You must follow whatever order Master Adelei gives as if it is my own—it’s for your safety.”

“But—”

“Someone is trying to kill you. Do you think I wish to see you dead, like your mother?” The words zapped the air in the room, and Margaret startled upright, her face flushed as if burned. “Adelei will serve as your body double during the ceremony at the cathedral, though you may endure the rituals beforehand yourself. Master Adelei will be present to guard you during those. You will do this, by my order if I must make it so. On my life, you will do this.” Hatred in Margaret’s gaze reminded Adelei of the “fit” she had heard through the door when she had arrived yesterday—a spoiled princess throwing a temper-tantrum because she’d never been told “No.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Margaret was no wildfire today—she channeled Adelei at her best, a slow-stirring beast whose spit flecked bits of flame in warning.

This appeared to be nothing new as King Leon merely shrugged before standing to place a kiss on Margaret’s crown of black curls. “Today’s a busy day of meetings, and I have much to attend to. Mind Adelei and Nisha as they watch over you today, and I’ll see you at dinner.” As he left, Margaret made a face at his back and retrieved the candle from the floor.

How am I going to survive these tantrums? Adelei sighed.

“You sound like my father.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you sighed just now, you sounded like him. And you will address me as ‘Your Majesty.’”

She couldn’t help the second sigh and tried to shift her mind elsewhere. Margaret moved like a fragile person—no defensive stance, no awareness of her body at all. When Margaret stood, her flimsy nightgown parted to display long, pale legs with muscles used to slight steps when walking the castle instead of fighting or horseback riding. Poor Hero. I bet she’s barely even ridden that poor pony. I doubt she can sit a horse, much less anything else.

Small footsteps took the princess to a dressing shade where she rang a bell. Several handmaidens rushed into the room to dress Margaret. They removed and retrieved clothing with a speed that left Adelei dizzy. “Do you enjoy watching people dress?” Margaret said, her tone insinuating a certain impropriety in Adelei’s watchful stare. “I’ve heard there are people that enjoy such pursuits.”

Adelei ignored the jibe for what it was, an attempt to chase off the new bodyguard. Many deft hands wove the laces of Margaret’s corset, and when she stepped out from behind the shade, her narrow waist had lost several inches in the process. The princess sat on a stool before a tall mirror. A few sapphires decorated the mirror’s crown, and when Adelei’s gaze traveled further down, she caught Margaret’s reflection staring back.

Margaret’s handmaidens brushed her thick, black hair as they counted the strokes. When her comment garnered no response, Margaret tried again. “My hair is most beautiful, would you not agree, Master Adelei? Women covet it. Or maybe you’d rather speak of my body—the body of a princess. But I doubt you’d understand such feminine things.” Adelei counted under her breath as Margaret tried to puncture the hardened exterior of Adelei’s shell. “Do you even have breasts under there? Oh Gods, I never even thought to ask—you are female, right? I mean, I can’t have a man in my bedchambers, let alone in my wedding dress.”

“Leave us,” Adelei said. All at once, four pair of feet withdrew with a scamper across the stone floor.

“Wait. Where are you going?” Margaret cried, and when her handmaidens ignored her, she fell back onto her creaking stool.

Another unlit candle flew toward Adelei, and she caught it one-handed. Adelei crossed the room in half a dozen steps and set the candle back in its place before turning to Margaret.