The Commander's Desire (35 page)

Was he all right? As always, Elwytha’s mind
returned to her husband. All week, she had prayed fervently for his
safety as he rode on her castle; as he battled to vanquish her
land.

She missed him so much, and she loved him so
much. And she longed for the hopeless—for things to return to the
way they were on their wedding day. Before Richard came.

It would never be. Wretchedly, Elwytha wept
into her pillow until she had no strength to cry anymore.

* * * * *

Later that day, Elwytha heard a noise at her
door and slowly sat up. She felt exhausted, and still had not
touched the foul eggs.

It was too early for Hagma to return.

The door opened and the Prince entered. With
a startled gasp, Elwytha leaped to her feet. The enemy ruler wore
no crown upon his black hair, and a dagger sparkled at his
belt.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “Why are you
here? I didn’t know your royal feet tread these pedestrian
hallways.”

His teeth gleamed, but it could not be called
a smile. “Your pleas of innocence have reached my ears.”

Elwytha was surprised. “Hagma spoke to
you?”

“
Henry, my
guard.”

Quickly, she remembered that Hagma had said
she’d speak to Mary. Perhaps Mary had spoken to her husband, Henry.
She swiftly marshaled her wits, knowing the Prince paid her no
social visit.

“
Do you believe my
innocence? Have you decided to set me free?” Elwytha didn’t believe
this for a moment.

His eyes looked like coals, and his aquiline
nose as sharp as the blade tucked into his belt. “Nay.” Venom bit
through the word.

Fear slid through her. “Then why are you
here?”

“
To interrogate
you.”

Elwytha crossed her arms. Though what defense
this might be against his blade, should he decide to wield it upon
her, she did not know. “Ply your questions then, and I will
answer.”

“
More of the lies you’ve
begun to spread around my palace?”

She opened her mouth, but he raised a finger
for silence. “I will put an end to your lies. Answer me now. You
plotted with Richard to kill the Commander. You swore to a false
peace. You say now you changed your mind and plotted no betrayal.
But you still knew of Richard’s treachery and did not speak of it.”
The Prince watched her with condemnation in his black eyes.

A breath caught in Elwytha’s throat. And
guilt. “Tell me, could I betray my own brother?”

“
The Commander deals with
you too kindly,” he flashed.

“
Yes, you would adorn your
flagpole, I know. But I did not betray the Commander, Prince. I did
not put a blade to his throat. I would
never
do that.” Anguish sparked her
temper.

“
Your silence was treachery
enough.”

“
How could I serve honor to
Richard and honor to the Commander? Pray, what would you have done,
if you are so wise?”

The Prince took a menacing
step toward her. “I would
kill
the bastard who killed my brother!” His black eyes
cut into her like knives, shocking her.

“
I didn’t know that Richard
killed Thor. I still have no proof. You would have me kill an
innocent man?”

“
You purposed to kill the
Commander,” he said silkily. “An innocent man.”

“
I didn’t know,” she cried
out. “Not at first. And then…finally, I believed him. I never would
have married him otherwise.”

“
You love him so tenderly,
then?” the Prince mocked. “Spare me a woman who would serve a lie
and pretend it the truth.”

“
Truly, Prince, you have all
the answers, don’t you? I did not wish Richard’s death, or the
Commander’s, or even yours. That is the truth. If I failed,” she
spurted, “it is because I have not your infinite wisdom. You are
faultless in all your ways, are you not? Nay, Prince,” she said
with scorn, “You are as blackened as the rest of us. You knew
Richard planned treachery. You suspected me…and him…all along. Yet
still you sported with us. We are the only ones who
suffered.”

“
As you deserved,” he
returned in a cutting tone.

“
Pretend no innocence,
Prince,” she lashed. “True, I plotted treachery at first. But you
plotted it to the last—Richard’s last breath. Did you lure him here
and taunt him to attack you? Did you commit the cold blooded murder
of my last brother?”

Anger flared, giving the Prince’s features a
dangerous edge, but Elwytha no longer cared.

She hissed, “You hate my words? Perhaps now
you understand how it feels to be accused when you can provide no
proof to your innocence.”

As the Commander had felt when she’d
repeatedly disbelieved his innocence. Tears burned her eyes.

“
Judge me then, Prince. I
have admitted my crime. But torture me no further with your
presence or your false piety. Leave me to the hell the Commander
has subscribed me to!” She burst into tears and turned
away.

He was right. Perhaps she should have warned
the Commander and Prince directly. Maybe they would have thrown
Richard into the moat instead of killing him.

But now her fate was sealed. The Prince
despised her. The Commander hated her. Her tears came faster.
Clearly, that would never change. When would they take her life? Or
would she spend the rest of her days locked in this tiny chamber,
tortured by her thoughts and memories? She gulped, choking on
uncontrollable sobs.

Behind her, she heard slow, deliberate hand
claps. “Well done, Princess,” the Prince said softly.

Elwytha shuddered, unable to
bear his mocking taunt. “I am not playing a game,” she screamed
out. “This is real life.
Mine.
But how could you possibly know the difference?”
Further fury flared, and she whirled in a rage, but he was gone.
The door softly clicked closed behind him.

* * * * *

The next morning, Hagma came with a
guard.

Elwytha sat up, glad she had dressed this
morn. Since the interrogation by the condemning Prince, she had
felt little desire to do anything. Even food did not appeal.

“
This is Mary’s husband,
Henry.” Hagma indicated the helmeted warrior. Elwytha had seen that
mustached face before. “The Prince has agreed you may go outside
for an hour each day. Henry must accompany you.”

“
Truly?” Joy soared in
Elwytha. With wonder, she looked from Hagma to the guard. “But…the
Prince doesn’t believe my innocence. Why would he allow
this?”

“
Mary and I believe you. And
she asked Henry to speak again to the Prince for you. It’s a small
comfort, but it’s the least we can do.”

“
You believe me?” Tears
filled Elwytha’s eyes. “Truly, you do?”

Hagma nodded. “And Mary is worried. Why are
you not eating your food?”

Elwytha could not even look at the glistening
scrambled eggs. “It makes me want to vomit. I know not why.”

Hagma scooped up the tray and offered Elwytha
a small smile. “What would you like?”

Elwytha burst into tears at the unmerited
kindnesses. “Perhaps toast and fruit, if it’s not too much
trouble.”

Hagma nodded, but before she could leave,
Elwytha leaped to her feet and hugged her friend. “Thank you,
Hagma,” she whispered brokenly.

Hagma pulled away, seemingly embarrassed, but
pleased as well. “Do not carry on, miss. These are only small
things.”

“
But they mean everything to
me.”

“
After breakfast, Henry will
return to take you outside.”

Elwytha smiled at the helmeted man. “Thank
you, Henry.”

The gray mustached man said, “Hmmph.”

“
And please thank Mary,
too,” Elwytha told them as the door closed.

Relief and joy brightened her spirits as
Elwytha waited for their return. To go outside! To smell the breeze
and see something besides these boring four walls. But Elwytha
didn’t delude herself. Her fate may still end up the sword, but for
now, the life remaining her would be more bearable.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Two weeks to the day
after Richard’s death, Hagma entered Elwytha’s
chamber, bearing her usual breakfast of toast and fruit. She set it
down on the dresser.

“
The Commander returned last
night.”

Elwytha’s heart leaped. He lived! “Is he all
right?” she asked anxiously. “Has he been injured?”

“
Nay, miss, not that I could
see.” Hagma bit her lip. “I’m sorry, miss, but…”

Dread sank to her toes. “He wishes to
sentence me for my crime.”

“
He wants you to dress and
pack. You leave in an hour.” Hagma blinked quickly.

Elwytha felt a bolt of surprise. “But where
am I going?” Would he have her pack if he meant to kill her? Surely
not. A blade of hope sprouted in her heart.

“
I know not.” After a
hesitation, she said, “Goodbye, miss.”

Elwytha hugged her friend and watched her go.
Tears prickled her own eyes. But she also felt hope. She would be
delivered from this tiny chamber—perhaps to another tiny chamber?
The dungeon, mayhap? Some small part of her did not believe
this.

Quickly, she dressed and packed, unable to
deny her eagerness to see the Commander. She only nibbled at the
toast. Her stomach roiled, sickening her. Nerves? Or had she the
flu? She spent a few minutes struggling not to throw up.

But she was so hungry. When her stomach
calmed, she ate a little more toast and felt better.

Elwytha was ready well within the hour. Two
guards came and collected her trunk. Later, another came for
her.

Where was the Commander? Evidently, he had no
wish to see her.

Further pain withered her heart. She followed
the guard to the stables. Sir Duke was saddled, and nuzzled her
hand eagerly. Closing her eyes, she pressed her cheek to her old
friend’s face. At least someone loved her.

“
Mount,” the guard told her.
With a frown, she obeyed and then followed a small envoy of horses,
including one that pulled her trunk in a cart, over the drawbridge
to the field below. There she saw the Commander upon his black
stallion, and her heart leaped. He looked well and strong. Just as
she had hoped and prayed.

As soon as they cleared the castle, he rode
ahead, clearly leading the small troupe. Equally clear, he intended
to shun her.

No chamber imprisoned her now. No shackles
tied her legs or hands. Therefore nothing, she determined, would
stop her from speaking to him. She could not stand being apart from
him for one more moment. And she longed for him to hear her, and to
believe her innocence. As well, she wished to know where they were
going. What future did he intend for her?

Elwytha patted Sir Duke, and he broke into a
glad gallop. When they neared the Commander, she pulled back on the
reins. With reluctance, Sir Duke slowed. Her heart beat fast as
they drew alongside the black stallion. “Commander.”

The Commander glanced at her and frowned. A
white bandage covered his nose. Evidently the break had been
terrible if it still needed healing. Did it pain him?

With him glowering at her, all questions fled
her head except one. “What is to become of me?” The same question
she had asked two weeks ago. Would he answer anon?

He gritted his teeth and looked away, as if
it were painful to look on her. “You will return to your castle and
ready it for the new king.”

Elwytha digested this. She would not be put
to death. Relief soared, and hope. She could go home, even if it
was only to ready her palace for another. “What new king?”

He looked back at her, and the wintry gaze
forbade further questions. Elwytha ignored the warning. Now was her
chance to speak. “Commander, please,” she begged. “I would have you
listen to me.”

He turned his head away and rumbled harshly,
“I spared your life. Speak no more to me.” As though he couldn’t
stand the sight of her, he kicked the stallion into a gallop and
left her behind.

His rejection stabbed like a dagger through
her heart. He refused to hear her. He hated her! Tears wet her
cheeks—how many had fallen since she’d first arrived at the
Prince’s palace? A month’s worth. And still they did not end. Nor
would they end anytime soon. Not as long as she loved him. Not as
long as her heart beat.

Depressed, Elwytha rode on, and as noon
approached her stomach rumbled. As well, the nausea from this
morning returned. Remembering how toast had settled her stomach,
she nibbled on bread from her bag. It did not help. Sir Duke’s
steady rising and dipping gait seemed to worsen it, for the
queasiness increased as they continued.

Elwytha gulped, feeling her throat convulse.
Suddenly, she couldn’t hold it back. Clinging to Sir Duke’s neck,
she leaned forward and retched to the ground.

She hoped it would make her feel better. It
didn’t. She retched again. Weak and trembling, she pressed her face
into Sir Duke’s neck. Elwytha wanted to cry, but did not.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a black
horse beside her. Eyes watery, her gaze flickered to the Commander.
His mouth looked grim, and he looked on her as an unwanted
annoyance. “You are ill?”

“
I have the flu.” Elwytha
sat up, attempting to regain her dignity.

“
Is it why you don’t eat?”
he asked harshly.

“
How did you
know?”

“
Hagma pained my ears with
reports on your health.”