Warrior (57 page)

chambers. Jaisyn and her sisters

retired to the private salon, which

overlooked the garden, off to the side

of the Great Hall. A maid brought in a

tray of scones and biscuits along with

a large pot of herbal tea. Ever since

she’d returned to Morden, Magda had

given a recipe to the cook, and had

ordered that the queen drink it early in

the morning as well as in the

afternoon. Jaisyn did not mind as it

was quite delicious, and it usually left

her feeling refreshed. She’d allowed

Isolde and Mathilda to taste it the first

time that she’d had it, and they’d

wanted their own cups. They didn’t

drink as much of it as she did, but

they usually joined her for cups in the

afternoon to sit around and be idle.

“Lady Calista is very pretty,”

Mathilda said after a sip of her tea.

She sat on a soft chair beside Isolde.

“Do you think she has a nickname as

well?”

Jaisyn willed herself not to roll her

eyes. Since the girl’s arrival in

Morden, she’d heard far too much of

Lady Calista. She lifted the silver cup

to her lips and drank, before reaching

for one of the sugary biscuits she so

liked.

Isolde responded and what she said

shocked her older sister. “I don’t think

she has any sort of nickname, Matty,

but if she does it is no doubt

something like the “Thorn of the

North.” I do not find her that pretty

anyway. Jaisyn is more beautiful and

so are you.”

Jaisyn coughed as a few biscuit

crumbs went down the wrong way,

and she blinked and stared at Isolde,

who batted her lashes innocently,

although a devilish smile played

around her lips. Had she been that

obvious in her dislike of the Lady

Calista that Isolde saw it? Had anyone

else noticed?

“Really?”

Mathilda, naively oblivious to the

real reason for Isolde’s biting answer,

stared at Jaisyn for a long period of

time, golden eyes assessing the

features that were common to her

sister. “Yes. You’re right, Isolde.

Jaisyn is much more beautiful.”

Isolde turned to stare at Mathilda

and burst into gales of contagious

laughter. Jaisyn shook her head and

followed suit as Mathilda seemed lost.

When they sobered, Isolde reached to

the tray and grabbed a scone.

“Jassy?” Jaisyn blinked and focused

on Isolde. “Do you know when we’ll

be returning to Lytheria? I know

we’re to spend the Season here but

Lady Mor’an said that the Season

lasts less than two months. Will we be

returning as soon as the Season

ends?”

Jaisyn did not know. Her husband

had barely borne her presence long

enough to tell her that her sisters were

to spend the Season with her.

“I will ask Vulcan,” she told Isolde,

secretly glad that she had a reason to

enter his study and make him speak to

her. Another thought occurred to her

as she stared into the green of her

sister’s eyes. “Are you not happy

here? Do you not feel welcome? Is it

the cold? It will become warmer soon,

or so I’m told.”

“No! No, I love it here. I loving

spending time with you,” Isolde

amended her words quickly, shaking

her cap-covered head. “I was only

curious.”

Jaisyn blinked and stared at Isolde

for long moments, eyes narrowing

when her sister seemed to fluster

under the attention.

Mathilda asked a question and she

turned to focus on her younger sister,

but still something nagged her about

Isolde’s question. What was her sister

not telling her?

Chapter 15

Vulcan had long since retired to his

chambers. He was not tired and with

his wife’s chambers adjoining his, he

was finding it hard not to think of her

beautiful body under his. He’d

avoided her for more than two weeks,

during which time he’d tried to quell

the anger he felt for stupid actions in

Lytheria. She could have been killed;

his unborn child could have been

killed. One of his warriors could have

fired a crossbow at her, thinking she

was a man helping a fugitive. Many

scenarios had entered his mind, all

with his wife being badly injured, or

worse, in her attempt to rescue her

undeserving friend.

Although seeing her angered him,

continually rousing these scenarios in

his mind, it had done nothing to

smother his desire for her. At

mealtimes, he would look on as she

charmed his stepmother and even

some of the stiff nobles who’d been

invited to dine at his castle. And then

there was Calista. Calista Dakar had

been pretty since she hit puberty, with

her pale skin, violet eyes, playful

personality, and slim figure. But she’d

come a long way from the pretty

twelve-year-old

who’d

once

attempted to be his shadow. Small

breasts had budded where none had

been before and her prettiness had

increased until she could be described

as nothing short of beautiful.

She served well to distract him from

his wife when they dined together.

Unlike Lady Savoy and a few of his

ex-mistresses,

Calista

was

an

innocent, in every sense the lady, who

had perfected her charms, no doubt in

hopes of snagging a husband. She had

been under his stepmother’s tutelage

since the death of her own mother,

and had been trained well by Lydia.

And so every day, he would try to

give his undivided attention to Calista,

which turned out to be harder than he

expected, with his wife seated directly

opposite him. The first night they’d

been back, she’d glared at him as he

conversed with Calista, but after then,

she barely seemed to pay him any

attention. For all the notice she gave

him, he could have been a very small

fly on the wall.

He, on the other hand, was finding

that it increasingly difficult to ignore

her. Especially when she laughed. He

would find himself staring at her lips.

Or when she turned to speak to one of

her sisters, he would stare at the

gracefully line of her neck.

Groaning, he tossed the covers off of

his hips and padded over to the

adjoining door. He was the king,

damn it! If he wanted his wife, he

could damn well take her and be done

with it.

Pushing the door inward, he stepped

into the room and immediately noticed

the stifling heat. The fire was blazing

high and he considered dousing it a

bit, before deciding that his wife must

have felt chilled this night. Heading

over to the bed, he looked through the

thin peach-colored curtains at his

sleeping wife. She was on her side,

facing him. The bed gown she wore

was red, with a burgundy wrapper

over it. He frowned and stared at the

thick covers that were thrown over

her body. Jaisyn didn’t wear wrappers

to bed.

He moved the curtain aside and sat

at the edge of her bed. The mattress

dipped, and she came awake instantly.

A slight cough escaped her lips as she

stared up at him, blinking the sleep

from her golden eyes. Recognition

dawned and her eyes widened.

“What do you want, my lord?” she

asked immediately, and her voice

sounded sleepy and more than a little

hostile.

“Are you ill?” he countered, staring

at the wrapper and the extra covers on

the bed before looking back to her

face.

Jaisyn sat up and glared at him

incredulously before hissing, “Why

should you care now? You haven’t

cared in over two weeks.” She pulled

the wrapper tightly around her body.

“I have not come here to argue,

wife. Just answer the question and

remember that I will always be

concerned over the well being of my

heir! Are you ill?”

He saw the hurt in her golden eyes

at his words but refused to make

amends. Her eyes hardened instantly.

“The child is fine,
liege
,” her voice

came soft but firm. Cold yellow eyes

glared at him. “You have received the

answer for your question and now

may leave my chambers.”

“Do not order me about, Jaisyn.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,
liege
. I am

but a woman in a kingdom ruled by

men and their whims.”

She spoke so politely that it came

across as sarcastic, and lifted her

brows when his face darkened in

anger.

“Why is it so warm? Why do you

have so many covers on your bed?”

Jaisyn looked to the fire before

gesturing to the throws on her bed. “I

did not know, liege, that it would

impoverish your kingdom if I used

more wood for my fire, and more furs

for my bed. I will have the furs

returned in the morning—”

“Are you trying purposely to goad

me, lady? I will ask you once more,

are you ill?”

A frosty smile appeared on her lips.

“And I have already answered, liege.

Your heir is fine.”

He

moved

quickly,

practically

lunging across the bed. Jaisyn gasped

when his arms closed around hers and

she was dragged closer to him. Her

legs were caught in the covers,

making it difficult for her to struggle.

His action had parted the slight

opening in her bed gown, revealing

the swell of her heaving breasts. The

sight made his groin ache. Jaisyn

began to twist in his arms.

“Have you tired of your mistress,

liege?” she said tightly. His eyes lifted

to hers in confusion but she continued.

“I noticed Lady Savoy no longer

comes to dine with us. Has her place

been filled by Lady Dakar?”

Vulcan was caught off guard by the

question and blinked rapidly at his

wife. It was not proper for a wife to

ask her husband about his mistress.

But Jaisyn was in no way a proper

wife. If she were, he would not still be

angry with her for dressing like an

assassin and helping a condemned

man escape. He would not tell her

that Lady Savoy had been sent from

the castle when she’d tried to sneak

into his bed chambers while his wife

had been missing. She’d thought that

with Jaisyn gone, she could seduce

Vulcan. It had been a fatal mistake,

which had found her running from his

room almost as soon as she entered,

and

surprised

when

she

was

subsequently ordered back to Eerie.

“Are you surprised, liege—?”

“Vulcan!” he snarled, his grasp

tightening on her shoulders. Jaisyn

glared at him before her smile

appeared once more.

“I am tired, liege. You may feel free

to go to whichever mistress pleases

you, for I do not want you.” Jaisyn

had begun speaking in a carefree

manner, but by the end of the

sentence, she was practically seething

in rage, and began struggling to

remove herself from his grasp.

“Stop moving before you hurt

yourself,” Vulcan bit out, his grip still

on her arms.

“But you care nothing of me,

Vulcan. As long as your heir still

breathes. Release me!”

Vulcan’s patience gave even more

and he found himself demanding

harshly, “You would prefer I take my

pleasure with a mistress rather than

come to your bed?”

Jaisyn froze in his arms and for a

small moment, he thought he saw

something else flicker in her eyes

before it was gone and she gave an

affirmative nod. “You are king, are

you not? Find another to share your

bed. You have already done your duty

to the Crown, as have I.”