Fireblood (16 page)

Sebastian stands next to it.

“Zara,” he says, my name breathy on his lips. “Wow.” His eyes trail over my frame, taking me in, and I can’t help but do the same to him. He’s dressed in all black, except for a dark blue belt that holds his scabbard and sword, and a matching blue tunic under his vest. He’s striking. The dark clothing against his light-toned features is a beautiful contrast.

He approaches me, his golden eyes flickering. “There are no words for how breathtaking you are.” He takes my hand and bows, placing a soft kiss on the back of it.

I allow him to continue holding my hand as he guides me to a seat. “Sebastian.” I glance around the garden as I sit. “This is truly beautiful. You outdid yourself.”

His smile reaches his eyes, making them bright and lively. “You give me far too much credit.” He waves his hand around. “Can you see me climbing trees?”

I laugh, picturing the prince doing anything himself. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” His head tilts as he stares at me. “And look.” He points to our goblets. “Grape juice.”

I laugh louder, but uncertainty grips my chest as I remember his callous words in the corridor after the betrothal—his lips hard on mine. I push the thought out of my mind and try to be in the now.

We don’t talk much during supper. But the sounds of the garden, with its crickets and the splash of its fountain, enchant me, and I don’t desire conversation.

After supper, Sebastian asks me to walk with him through the garden before I retire to my chamber, and I agree.

The crisp air is weighted, pressing down on me as I realize I must garner the information I came here to get. I can’t postpone any longer. I open my mouth to forge ahead, but he turns to me with questions of his own.

“I was thinking,” Sebastian says, taking my hand in his as we round a corner near the maze. “I’m going into town soon, to make an announcement in the square about the tournament.” His thumb rubs the top of my hand. “Would you like to come?”

I stop and face him. “You’re actually allowing me outside these walls?” I cock my head, trying to hold back the excitement coursing my veins. My whole body wants to react—scream to be outside of Court.

He sighs. “Zara. It was not my intention to inflict intolerable restraint on you.” His brow furrows. “You have to understand. There’re certain precautions we must take.”

“Against this network of conspirators?” I shake my head. “Why have I never heard of them before? Are they truly bent on attacking you—attacking
me
?”

His mouth lifts in an amused smile. “It’s not what you think, my love. I don’t fear them attacking you. They’re bent on destroying the realm and…ah, it’s complicated.” He takes my other hand in his and brings them between us. “Though Karm is the safest place in all the world, royalty cannot go wandering the streets. You’d be surprised how commoners will latch onto you, and it can become quite frightening when they start fawning.”

“I was a commoner, and I never
fawned
over anyone.”

He laughs. “You, my love, were never common.” He kisses one of my hands. “But trust me. You don’t want to be stopped every second in the street or market, being asked to change this or that. Invited to suppers and weddings. Made to appear at baby christenings.”

“Is that what I’ll have to do?” I look away from him and glance around the garden. The tea lights glimmer in the tree branches. The chilled air is scented with roses and lavender. I consider where I am…and what I could do if I must remain here. “I hoped to put my position to use—help others, remove station barriers, make the orphanage better. But those will be my duties?”

His smile falters, his face pulls into a scowl. “You’re to be Queen, Zara. Not a saint. The people don’t—” He bites off his words and inhales deeply. “Yes. Those will be your duties. Among others.” His eyes become intense. “Your first, and the only one I require of you, is being with me.” He cups the back of my neck and tilts my head up. His thumb gently rests against my cheek.

I step back abruptly, putting space between us. “Sebastian.” I say his name barely above a whisper.

He releases an audible breath and drops his hands, then stares at the ground. He’s quiet a moment, only the sound of our mingled breaths between us. “Too soon,” he says softly, looks up and backs away farther. “We still have plenty of time before the wedding. We’ll go as slowly as you’d like.”

A shuddering breath leaves my lips with obvious relief, but just as quickly a twinge of panic worms its way into my chest. I feared telling him outright at the meadow that I have no intentions of being with him romantically. And after seeing his temper today on the field with just a sport at risk, I have no idea what the prince may do if I continue to reject him.

However, I can’t allow him the slightest hope that I will ever willingly marry him.

I suck in a breath and latch onto that small fire burning in the pit of my stomach. It’s there, but faint. “Thank you.” I draw myself up straighter. “But I have something to confess.”

His brows hike up his forehead. “Am I going to like this confession?”

Biting my lip, I look up at him. “Probably not, my lord, but I’ve thought long on what you told me at the meadow. I want to be by your side, help you in your
endeavors
.” I nod, hoping he follows along as I don’t want to say anything incriminating on Court grounds. “Only, I can’t truly be with you. As your wife.” My chest prickles as I allow this to sink in a moment, and then add, “I’ll understand if you should choose another now that you know my position.”

“Let me escort you to your chamber.” He takes my arm and guides us toward the trellis opening. “It’s getting late, and I believe you’re to continue riding lessons on the morrow?”

I stop and turn on him. “Sebastian, did you hear—”

“As I said before.” His eyes snap to my face, his features wooden. “There is plenty of time before the wedding.” He smiles, but it’s forced, muted against the hard lines of his face. “I will win your affections by then.”

Drawing in the cool night air, I allow the chill to coat my stinging lungs. I hesitantly walk beside him toward the opening of the garden, pondering what else might convince him that I’ll never be with him in the way he desires. It took all my strength to admit those words. I hoped he’d somehow be relieved, use my reluctance as an excuse to choose Cecily.

However, I don’t want to press him further tonight. I trust that he—as Madity claimed—has a good heart, and maybe after thinking on what I said, will see that a marriage between us is impossible.

I change the subject. “I’ve asked Devlan to fill in teaching my riding lessons for the rest of this week while you’re preparing for the tournament.”

He nods once. His eyebrows knit together. “That’s excellent. Devlan is a fine rider.”

We near the lattice opening of the garden and Devlan is there, waiting with his hand cupped over the hilt of his arming sword, standing at perfect attention. His face is stoic as he stares past us.

As we pass through the arch, I glance at Devlan and our eyes meet. For a brief moment, his features harden. His face rigid and dark, his blue eyes cold. A shiver works its way down my spine. I can almost register what he may be feeling, but then his impenetrable mask slips back into place, shutting me out.

Before I force my gaze away, Devlan smiles. But it doesn’t match his cool, hard eyes.

FOURTEEN

T
he sky is clear, and sparse white clouds feather the pure blue with no threat of rain. The weather is agreeable. No mud puddles to splash around in if I’m thrown from a horse. I feel confident about the afternoon’s ride, even though Devlan’s avoidance of me is off-putting.

He’s the only thing ruining my otherwise perfect day. Luckily I spent most of it with Madity, going over her marital preparation to-do list. Picking out material for my wedding dress. Tasting icing for the cake. I think she was as shocked as me that I didn’t oppose. I did enjoy it, as I imagine I would’ve done these things with my mother were she alive. But at the same time, I was anxious to be done and get to my lesson.

Devlan readies Fireblood with a woman’s saddle, grunting as he pulls the leather straps tight. Jericho stands to his side. His shorn dark hair makes him look younger than I believe he is.

I lean against the wood fence, fingering my locket, and stare up at the sky. Too many thoughts cloud my mind to allow Devlan’s infectious behavior to bother me much longer. I’ve decided it’s best to fulfill my father’s wishes and escape this maddening place. Sebastian should be free to choose another, and rule his kingdom however he feels is best.

Before I leave, I’ll visit the chapel, and do something I’ve not done since coming here.

Pray.

I’ve been too conceited in thinking I could influence the soon-to-be king. He’s his own man, and responsible for his actions. The court is not my world. Not my place. I want to be free of the burden weighing on me, and I want to respect my father’s memory and do as he requested. I have to learn to relinquish control, and trust that a higher power already has a plan.

Glancing at Devlan, I ask, “Where are we going today?”

He adjusts his stance, then strokes Fireblood’s mane. “Right here.” He finally looks at me. “You’re going to take instructions from Jericho today within the stable area.”

My brow scrunches. “But why? I’ve been doing well, have I not?”

“Yes, princess.” He steps away from his horse and motions with his hand, urging me over to her. “But there’s no reason to go out again until you can mount on your own and ride on your own.” He cocks his head. “Next time, you’ll have your own horse.”

Though I’m disappointed that I won’t get to feel the wind on my face, or the exhilaration of bounding over the plains, I accept this. The faster I learn to do it all on my own, the faster I’ll have my own horse. Then it’ll be time to go.

I unlace my arms from around my chest and step up to the horse.

“Wait,” Devlan says. He turns around to grab a thick, three-legged ladder, then positions it beside the horse. “A mounting block. So you can mount sidesaddle.” A slight grin tips the corner of his lips up.

Relieved, I climb to the third step and turn toward Fireblood. Gripping her mane and the saddle tightly—now that my hands no longer burn—I pull myself onto the saddle with a huff. This time, I land my bottom in the saddle correctly, both my legs to one side. I smile and look down at Devlan.

Expecting him to offer some kind of praise at my having accomplished this feat on the first try, I waggle my eyebrows. But he merely picks up the mounting block and stalks away. I don’t have the chance to ponder his behavior as Jericho begins his lesson. I’m forced to look ahead and focus on learning to steer Fireblood.

With Jericho leading, I round the fenced-in area twice before I glance over at Devlan. He’s leaning against the fence, and only looks up to check on me before going back to staring at the ground. He blows so hot and cold from day to day. I never know what to expect from him. But today, there’s obviously something wrong.

The next half-hour is exhausting, for Fireblood as well as for me. Jericho’s repetitive lessons on safety and balance have worn us both out, and I’m starting to wonder about Devlan’s remark on Fireblood’s nature. She’s given me little trouble. An amazing creature, she’s more patient with my lack of skill than she is stubborn.

I’m released to trot her slowly around the stable. As I near Devlan, I pull back on the reins and come to a stop. “I believe I have it down now.”

He looks up at me. “Oh, a few laps and suddenly you know all there is to riding.” He nods once, then waves his hand through the air. “By all means, take her out.” He points toward the gate.

Throwing the reins aside, I adjust my legs from around the lower pommel, turn sideways, and jump off the horse. It’s not the prettiest or cleanest dismount, and my frayed nerves don’t help, but I at least land steady on my feet. I march over, get right under his nose, and stare up at him.

“What is your
problem
, Devlan?” I’m annoyed at the tremor in my voice. “From one second to the next, I always do something to infuriate you. So, what is it this time?” I plant my hands on my hips. Glancing around to make sure Jericho isn’t nearby, I move closer to him, then say under my breath, “I’ve resigned myself to being addressed as ‘Princess.’ I’m doing as you instructed and accepted that my life is here, even having suppers with Sebastian.” I drop my voice into a whisper. “And I no longer carry my dagger.”

Through my whole rant, his face remains impassive, his eyes on me, unblinking—until I mention the dagger. At this his brows shoot up, and his eyes flick over my face. He presses his lips together into a stern line.

“So, you’ve decided to stay.” He looks away for a moment, then his eyes are back on me. “Does this mean you’ve come to your senses and realize it would be impossible, or”—he lowers his head and stares into my eyes—“have you fallen for the prince?”

My mouth drops open. “That is hardly your concern.” I bite the inside of my cheek before continuing. “My feelings for Sebastian are of no importance. The point
is
I’m doing what everybody, even
you
, demands of me.”

He shakes his head. “I have placed no demands on you, princess. I only asked you to make a decision, and hoped that your choice would be one where you remain here.”

“That is so vague, Devlan.” I study his brooding face. “Wishing me to stay surely implies that I am with Sebastian. I’m to marry him in less than two months.”

He shifts his stance. “Yes, but that does not require love.” His eyes bore into mine. “Do you love him?”

I hold his glare, his judgmental eyes hard on me. Anger pools in my stomach. “What difference does it make?”

He says nothing but continues to stare. Finally, he pulls his head back and brushes the hair from his forehead, breaking our eye contact. “None. You’re correct.” He turns away from me.

I latch onto his arm, halting him. He spins toward me, and my words are right on the tip of my tongue. I want to demand an explanation as to why he’s prying. But I’m too baffled by his behavior—too vexed to force them out. Instead, I release his arm and turn my back to him.