Princess Avenger - Brightcastle Saga Book 1 (27 page)

A sudden frown
marred the soft skin of her brow. “I need to be one with you.”

Vard grasped
her shoulders as she pushed forward against him again. He held her
apart. “You are sure this is what you want, Alecia? Once you take
this step, all will change. You’ll be a woman, and I don’t think
I’ll be able to walk away.”

Alecia’s smile
lit her face, her hungry lilac eyes firing the slow burn in his
loins. “I am your destiny.”

All the
barriers Vard had carefully constructed came crashing down, and he
crushed his princess to his chest. Words clogged his throat, so he
showed her the depth of his love instead. His lips met hers in one
long, tender, soul-affirming kiss that deepened until Alecia
moaned, allowing his tongue to explore the deepest reaches of her
mouth. Her fingers wove through his hair, tugging gently, stirring
his desire until he couldn’t wait any longer.

Vard pulled
his mouth from Alecia’s long enough to spread her discarded
nightgown at the front of the cave. He lifted her in his arms and
she laughed as he gently laid her on the garment. He bent to kiss
her again but her frantic hands tugged at his clothes. Vard stood,
slowly peeling off his tunic and then his breeches and hose until
he stood naked before her.

Alecia’s eyes
widened at his nudity, her heartbeat exploding into a gallop in
time with his own.

“Love me,” she
whispered.

He knelt and
kissed her neck, her shoulders and her breasts until she strained
against him, begging for release. Then his hand slid beneath her
buttocks and he entered her, slowly, gently, until all of him was
consumed in her warmth. Alecia tensed at the pressure but then
moved against him, meeting him thrust for thrust until she groaned
and stiffened around him, sparking his release, his seed exploding
inside her.

Afterwards as
they lay entwined, Vard marvelled at the depth of his feelings.
Alecia was part of him, and right at that moment he wanted to stay
joined with her for eternity. “I love you,” he said.

“And I you,”
she said. “I would stay like this forever but I fear the world will
eventually intrude.”

“And what
then?”

“I will not go
back.” Alecia smoothed his forehead with her fingers.

“You can’t
abandon your people.”

“We will help
them together and find a Defender to teach you.”

Vard gazed
down at his princess, her face lit with the smile that made her
irresistible. “In this moment, I really believe we can achieve all
that.”

“We can, Vard.
You will see.”

Vard smiled.
With this woman by his side, anything was possible.

Thank you for reading
Princess Avenger. If you enjoyed it could you please leave a review
at your favourite ebook retailer. Thanks so much!

Regards

Bernadette Rowley

To Louise
Cusack for her inspiration and advice over the last nine years.

To Sophia
James for mentoring me through the early editing of Princess
Avenger.

To Tracey
O’Hara for her assistance during the most recent edits of Princess
Avenger.

To MG
for being there to bou
nce ideas off.

To my
husband, Michael, and my sons for their unending love and support
and for sharing
in the
disappointments and triumphs of a writing life.

Bernadette
Rowley is an author of fantasy romance who grew up on rural
properties on the Sunshine Coast, Queensland, Australia. Her
teenage years were spent training her beloved horses, reading the
fantasy stories of Tolkien, Brooks and Eddings and dreaming of
becoming a vet.

She graduated
as a vet in 1987 and now works part time, allowing her five days a
week for her passion- writing. Bernadette lives in Townsville with
her husband of 27 years, their sons and Slippers the cat. Her other
interests are reading (fantasy and romance), singing (a capella),
cricket and music.

Check out my
Smashwords Interview here:
https://www.smashwords.com/interview/BernadetteR

The Lady’s Choice-
coming in June 2015

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Benae smiled to herself as her maid fussed with the
tiara that adorned her dark hair.
Finally something in my life
is going to plan.
In moments, she would descend the grand
central staircase to meet her host, Prince Jiseve Zialni, next in
line to the throne of Thorius, Lord and Master of Brightcastle. If
her scheme worked, she need not be all alone in the world. Being
solely responsible for the five hundred citizens on her estate wore
her down. Despite being surrounded by people, with her parents and
brother gone, hers was a solitary existence.

She shook her head and dragged her thoughts
back to the present. Now was not the time to be dwelling on
difficulties. Her project was well in hand. Tonight at dinner, she
would shine in comparison to the princesses. She did not deceive
herself that it would be simple to win the hand of the prince. The
other contenders had arrived some time ago while Benae had been
delayed by the myriad problems that accompanied the running of her
estate. Now she was in residence and determined to make it
impossible for Prince Jiseve Zialni to resist her. Benae met
Merel’s eyes in the mirror.

“You are lovelier than I’ve ever seen you
before, my lady,” Merel said. “That emerald silk makes you look a
princess. His Highness won’t be able to take his eyes from
you.”

“You are kind to say so.”

“Everyone agrees you’re the greatest beauty
in all the land. Now that I’ve travelled outside Tylevia, I think
they must be right. I’ve seen no other to rival you.”

“It is said that the prince is rather vain
so I am hoping he prizes beauty over royalty,” Benae said, spraying
jasmine perfume on her neck and wrists. “I have no title or fortune
to offer as the other ladies have, but I can give him what he
desperately seeks and that is a son.” She smiled at Merel. “I must
go. Do not wait up for me.”

Merel bobbed a curtsey and withdrew. Benae
checked her reflection one last time, sending a silent plea to the
Goddess to watch over her that evening. She gathered her skirts and
was preparing to leave the chamber when a commotion drew her to the
window.

Below, in the castle forecourt, two men
argued. She recognized the lieutenant who had welcomed her on her
arrival earlier. Vorasava was tall, thin and dark with tilted eyes
in a rakish face, but it was the other man who held her attention.
He was immaculately turned out, his dark-blue tunic snug across
shoulders and hips, his cream breeches accentuating the powerful
muscles of his backside and thighs. Long blond hair was tied at his
nape and he had an air of calm control. As he stabbed his hand
towards the stables, the blond god’s blue, blue eyes found Benae’s
and her heart stuttered.
Oh my!
Whatever he had been saying
was lost, for the lieutenant also turned her way. Vorasava snapped
a comment and strode off through the front gates.

The blond man broke eye contact and headed
towards the castle entry. It was only then that Benae noticed the
sword at his hip and the cat-like grace with which he walked. He
was soon gone from view but it took Benae’s heart much longer to
cease its pounding. There was something about the man that
resonated with her, drew her, compelled her. He was about her age
or perhaps a little younger and he obviously held a position of
importance. She could not wait to make his acquaintance. This visit
might be more than just a chance to claim the prince as husband.
Perhaps there was other fun to be had, but for now, it was time to
meet Prince Zialni and her rivals.
Time to see the
competition
.

As Benae turned from shutting her chamber door, she
almost ran into a tall, fair-haired woman in an exquisite
pale-green gown. The woman’s grey eyes held no warmth but Benae
smiled anyway. “Hello.”

“You must be Lady Benae Branasar,” the woman
said, unblinking.

Benae couldn’t help the tension that entered
her shoulders.
Talk about a welcoming committee.
“That’s
right…and you are?”

“Well, Princess Avalin of Tylevia, of
course.”

Benae made a small curtsey as befit her
rank. “I am pleased to meet you, Princess Avalin. You must call me
Benae. Have you been in Brightcastle long?” Benae took in the frown
lines that were already etched into Avalin’s face despite the fact
that she looked to be similar in age, a mere twenty-six years old.
Her straight, almost-white hair was pulled into a severe bun, held
by a silver tiara studded with pale-green gems. Avalin’s face was
too long to be pretty and the picture she presented was, all in
all, one lacking color.

“It is two weeks since I arrived. The prince
and I have spent many moments together and I have become quite fond
of him. This is a magical place and Jiseve is truly a wonderful
man. He needs a woman who will bring a cool and practical head to
the union.”

“He is of fiery temperament then?” Benae
asked, a ripple of interest coursing through her. Fiery she could
appreciate. She had hoped and prayed the prince would not be a cold
fish of a man.

“Oh yes, he has a temper at times.” Avalin
turned to walk along the hall to the staircase and Benae had to
hurry to match the stride of the taller woman.

“Has he lost his temper with you?” Benae
said.

“No, but I stick to safe topics,” Avalin
said, looking down her nose at Benae.

“Such as?”

“He loves to talk
about his family and he is very proud of this marvelous castle.”
Avalin looked Benae up and down. “I suppose you and he would have
horses in common.”

Benae smiled, thinking of her stallion,
Flaire, and she sent the horse a message of love. In answer, a
picture of them galloping over a grassy meadow appeared in her
head.
How can he be bored already when we have been here a mere
few hours?
She realized Avalin was waiting for her outside a
gilded door inlaid with quartz.

“Are you well, Lady Benae?”

“Of course, sorry.”

A page opened the door and Avalin swept
through ahead of Benae who stopped to thank the boy. She crossed
the threshold of the room and paused. All the princesses were in
attendance. The two women she had not met moved towards her.

A plain young woman with red locks and
pale-blue eyes was the first to speak. “I am the Princess Lella of
Brevisten, Lady Benae,” she said, giggling. “Might I say you have
the most glorious green eyes? I so wish I had
your
coloring.” She sighed and stepped aside so that Benae could meet
the last princess.

“And I’m Marey of Issian,” the blonde girl
with rich, brown eyes said. She could not have been more than
eighteen years old. Benae wondered at her parents sending their
daughter to be a candidate in an arranged marriage with someone old
enough to be her father.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance,
Princess Lella and Princess Marey.” Benae bobbed a brief curtsey.
These two girls would be no competition for her in the prince’s
affection, though if he wanted an heir, it paid to select a young
woman.

Benae cast her gaze around the room. It was
a small parlor with crackling fireplaces at each end and wall
hangings depicting horses, dogs and huntsmen. The floor rugs were
woven in rose and pale blue. It appeared that a woman’s hand had
decorated. “What a lovely chamber,” she murmured.

“Yes, decorated by Prince Zialni’s daughter
Alecia, I believe,” Avalin said. “Not to my taste. I’d pull those
ghastly hangings down and raise portraits and paintings instead.
Surely there must be local artists whose work would be polished
enough to grace these walls?”

“You have been here some time, Princess
Avalin,” Benae said, “what do you know of Princess Alecia and her
disappearance?”

“I think you should really ask Prince Zialni
about his daughter, Lady Benae,” Avalin said, the intensity of her
gaze sending a warning tingle down Benae’s spine. “I do so hate
gossip.”

“Well, I don’t,” Princess Lella said. “I
heard from the servants that Alecia and her father had a falling
out. He chose some old lord as her fiancé and she couldn’t bear the
thought of it. Then about a month ago, the prince had Alecia locked
up in this very castle and no one knows why. Fancy a father locking
up his grown daughter. It is unheard of.”

The thought of Prince Zialni incarcerating
his daughter rang an alarm within Benae. It did not seem possible
and yet Lella was convinced. “What of the kidnapping?”

“Oh, yes, Lady Benae,” Lella continued, her
blue eyes wide, “the official word is that Alecia was abducted by
her protector, Captain Vard Anton, but my sources say she went
willingly and that it was more of a rescue than an abduction.”

“That indeed is an intriguing and disturbing
tale,” Benae said, beginning to wonder about the true state of
affairs in Brightcastle.

“
If
you believe the gossip,” Avalin
said. “I have not seen or heard a word that convinces me our host
is anything but a loving father. His dealings with the common folk,
however, are said to be harsh. Mind you, it is my experience that
the
peasants
will always complain about their betters. It is
their nature.”