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Rated: 18+ · Book · Fantasy · #1966125
first several chapters of new novel
1

The bells had not yet rung. No one else had found the King dead, but Juliet knew it would not take long. And the killer was still present. He wouldn’t leave until both monarchs were dead. Quickly she reached down and closed her dead husband's eyes. Guilt fell over her shoulders in waves. How could she not have seen this? This of all things! Why could she not stop that bastard from slowly stealing her crown away from her, year after year?

The door creaked open behind her and she drew the dagger in her boot, keeping to the shadows.

"My Queen, we have to hurry. Bastien has arrived with your council and his army," a man whispered from the doorway. He was wearing the garb of the Queen's guard.

Juliet allowed herself to breathe then reached for the man's offered hand. "Flynn, where are the rest?"

"They are searching for you, my Queen." His tone was bitter.

"You mean they're hunting for me." Juliet trembled in fear. Her entire guard had betrayed her. "I will have their heads."

"If we do not move, they will have yours first," Flynn grunted then pulled her out into the corridor, his sword already at his side. As they walked down the torch less hall, moonlight poured from behind the clouds and glinted off the blade. Juliet bit back a curse as fear crept up her spine. Blood covered Flynn's sword from hilt to tip.

"Do I want to know whose blood," she whispered close to his side.

"Ask me after we make it out of here, my Queen."

As they neared the end of the hall, Flynn put out his arm to stop the Queen. The stairs were dark and he didn't hear anything. He started to take a step down, leading Juliet until light appeared around the corner. It grew then there were footsteps pounding up the stairs with shouts accompanying them. Flynn grabbed Juliet's wrist tightly and they raced back towards her chambers, those separate from the King's. They just got the door locked when someone tried the door. When they found it locked, the guards kicked it repeatedly. The door trembled. It was old and wouldn't handle the heavy blows for very long.

Juliet grabbed Flynn's arm and pulled him farther into the room towards the hearth.

"I'm sorry, my Queen. I feel I've doomed us both," he cursed as the door began to splinter. He moved to block her from harm, sword raised. "I will give my life to save you-what are you doing?" He turned to find Juliet pulling out one of the heavy stones from the floor at the edge of the hearth.

"Saving us. I could use some help," she grunted, pulling with all her strength.

The stone was wedged well into the floor and she'd already scraped her fingers 'til they were bleeding. She hadn't noticed, too desperate for escape.

"Milady," Flynn whispered panicking, "your hands. The blood-"

"I'm fine," she snapped trying to prevent the vision. "We just have to-have to hurry." Her voice was already growing faint.

Flynn shoved her hands away and dug frantically until the stone came loose. He shoved it to the side revealing a latch. He pulled it just as a sword was thrust through the door, dislodging planks. A section of the wall behind them slid open with a groan. Flynn didn't hesitate. He scooped his Queen into his arms and fled through the dark opening. Once through he searched for a way to close the passage, slamming his fist against the wall when he saw none. Juliet whispered to him, so quiet he had to bend down 'til her lips pressed against his ear. He felt along the wall for the lever and yanked it just as Juliet went limp. The wall slid closed and Flynn was shrouded in darkness with no idea of which direction this tunnel led.

Behind him, he heard the guards enter the room and yell in frustration. Flynn had to move and trust that his Queen would lead him out. Somehow.

* * *

Juliet yelled curses as she stood in the foggy realm of her sight. She hoped this vision would be worthwhile, considering it was putting her and Flynn in danger. She stared around her, waiting for the images to come, but nothing appeared. Muttering about wasting her time, Juliet hiked up her skirts and dashed off in a random direction. If her vision was going to choose now to spring up then she was going to get it over with, chase every last image down if she had to.

A figure loomed up out of the darkness next to her and she jumped back, away from its outstretched hand.

"Wait," he called gently, but there was a command to his words. "Wait and see."

"See what," she asked hesitant. She never interacted with those she saw in her visions. They never spoke directly to her, not until now. It frightened her.

"Your future and mine." The man's hand reached out and pressed against her belly. His palm warmed as he pointed with his other back behind her.

She strained to see his face before she turned, but it remained in shadow. Slowly she glanced behind and stared wide eyed at what reared up before them. A wall of fire broke through the fog and she stumbled away from it. The man caught her, holding her steady. She felt safe against his chest even as the flames began to split. Swords clashed and the roars of battle cries resounded around them. She tried to see more, but she was caught off guard by the man whispering in her ear as she watched.

"A brother's lies will lead to death," the words came from far away, even as the scene within the fire changed again. People dressed in black as if mourning. "So many lies has he woven."

"Who," she breathed, grief suddenly spilling through her mind.

"Who indeed," the man replied. The fire roared again and Juliet saw herself, eyes glowing with power. Two men stood behind her, their faces hidden by shadow. "Beware the betrayal."

"I have already been betrayed," she muttered.

"There will be more death within the lies. Take heed, milady, save yourself."

"Save myself, what do you mean..." she trailed off as the image flamed once more. She gasped at what lay before her. It was her body lying in a pool of blood. A dagger pierced her heart and her eyes were frozen open in fear. "This...this cannot be."

"He will be the end of all your hope." The man's hand pulled away. He walked towards the fire, his last words echoing around her. "Lies and betrayal. Lies, lies." His words grew fainter as he drifted away from Juliet and the fire went out.

Juliet was left alone in darkness, the last image of her dead body implanted on her mind. Then she was falling and the eerie sounds of a battle still raging followed her down.

* * *

         Flynn carefully lifted the trap door to peer out. Hay fell in at his feet and he sighed in relief. The tunnel had taken them underneath the stables, right into the stall of the Queen’s prized horses. He drew his sword and held it up as high as he dare, trying to see any reflections around them. It was quiet and after a long moment of waiting, he decided to take the risk and jump out of the tunnel. No one yelled in alarm and no one came out of the darkness to attack. The large white mare turned her gleaming brown eyes to stare at him while she continued to chew on her hay. He patted her rump then sheathed his sword and reached back down into the tunnel, surprised when a shaking hand gripped his.

         “Milady,” he whispered as he hoisted a coherent Juliet up into the stall next to him. “You have returned at a most opportune time.”

         She nodded stiffly, her eyes still haunted by whatever she’d seen. “No troubles on the way here?”

         “None, my Queen.” He saw her shiver in the coldness and quickly undid his cape and wrapped it around her shoulders. “We ride bareback. I dare not try to grab saddles from the front wall of the stables,” he said and she quickly agreed.

         As he quietly opened the stall door, Juliet pulled her dagger from her boot and made a few quick slices in her skirts then ripped them almost up to her waist. It would be easier to ride if they weren’t in the way. She threw the remaining fabric back into the tunnel then lowered the trap door, kicking hay over it to cover the handle and edges. The more Flynn watched her calm at escaping such a disaster, he wondered how many times she’d practiced using that passage, or if she’d seen it all along.

         He let her coax her mare out of the stall as he went to pull out his own painted steed. Once they were out of the stalls, both mounted and gently kicked the horses’ sides to get them moving out the back door of the stables. The moon had disappeared behind a bank of clouds and Juliet prayed for their sake it stayed there until they were out of sight. She didn’t even know where to turn, where would be safe for them, but they had to get away, out of her beloved Brolach. Her land, her home.

         And now she was running for her life from it.

         Flynn went out first then motioned for Juliet to follow when the patrolling guards turned back to their posts. Their horses remained as quiet as their riders as they headed out to the pastures surrounded the castle, sticking to the trees as much as possible. Fear pounded in Juliet’s chest as they sped to a gallop, freedom within reach. They were nearing the end of the field when dogs started to bark in the distance. She urged her mare on faster even as she seethed in anger. How dare that bastard use her hunting dogs against her, to hunt her as if she were nothing more than a fox!

         “Hurry, my Queen, the stream, we must make it past there,” Flynn urged turning his horse until she rode ahead of him, taking up the rear guard.

         The dogs wouldn’t catch them, but they would track their scent for miles. Her breathing was harsh as the trees closed in around them once more and she heard the faint murmuring of the stream, steadily flowing through the land. If they followed it, they’d make it to the river Creo and from there enter the lands of Anoran; her new sanctuary, or so she hoped.

          The tree line broke ahead and water was splashing up, cold on her bare legs, but they were across. Flynn followed close behind and pulled up beside her to stare back towards the castle. He was expecting his Queen to show fear, but she held herself tall atop her mare. Her eyes glared fiercely through the trees.

         “I curse you Bastien,” she whispered, “curse you and swear that one day I will be the one to kill you.”

         Flynn’s lips twitched in a satisfied smile to her words. “Milady, we must move ahead.”

         “I have no money, Flynn, and no jewelry to sell,” she informed him as they turned their horses to follow the stream.

         “Don’t fret, my Queen. I am not your personal guard for just my brute strength,” he teased. “I would like to think I have some level of intelligence that sets me above the others. Feel the lining of the cape.”

         Juliet stared at him curiously before she reached her fingers up to brush the fur. Underneath was something hard and round. “You sewed money into your cape?”

         Flynn shrugged. “Among other things. I have picked up a few tricks from being with you, my Queen, for so many years.” He smiled with her as she laughed for the first time in days. “Milady, would you tell me what you saw?”

         He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth, but he had to know if it would affect their escape. Had to know if there was some threat he needed to be aware of. Juliet’s smile faded into a frown, the haunted look coming back over her eyes.

         “I cannot be certain Flynn,” she said as she laid a hand over her stomach, remembering the warmth that had been there. “But I have a feeling it will not just be the two of us for very long.”

         He frowned then stared at where her hand rested and smiled sadly. “The King’s child. You are pregnant.”

         “Perhaps and if I am then this child will grow without a father.”

         “No, milady, he will have a father.” Flynn reached out and laid his hand over hers. “I will be his father if you allow me to have the honor.”

         Juliet covered his hand with hers. They would make it to Anoran and find a way to stay hidden from Bastien, to stay alive until the moment she could extract her revenge on the man that had betrayed her in more ways than one.

* * *

         Bastien ran his fingers lovingly over the iron arms of the King’s throne. He had yet to sit in it. He had to be certain that Juliet was captured, that she would be his Queen now. She might not enjoy it at first, but he would tame her, make her want him.

         Or he would destroy her.

         He continued to run his hands over the throne, relishing in the cold metal against his skin as the door was thrown open and the men that used to be loyal to the Queen fell to their knees now to Bastien.

         “My Lord,” one said quietly.

         “Shh, you’re interrupting,” Bastien said. He moved his hands up to the back of the throne then turned to face the men. “You were saying?”

         “It involves Flynn and Queen Juliet.”

         “You have killed the traitor and captured the lovely lady of the hour?”

         “No, my Lord. They have disappeared from the castle. The hounds tracked them to the stream, but no farther.”

         Bastien stilled. Anger thrummed through his body as his hands curled around the head of the throne. “They escaped with every guard in the castle searching for them?”

         “Yes, my lord.”

         “Well then, I guess the time has come for you to announce the death of the King. Tell the people…he was murdered by the Queen. Make up some story or other about her and what was his name? Flynn? Yes, do that,” he ordered waving his hand at them.

         “Of course, my lord, as you command.”

         “And gentlemen,” Bastien called before they rose to their feet. “Do not fail me again! Or it will be your murdered bodies found in the morning! Now go!” Power filled his words and the men left the room hurriedly, slamming the door behind them.

         Bastien circled the throne with a sneer then finally lowered himself into it. He sighed content at last to sit at the throne of Brolach once more. It had been so long since his skin had caressed the metal. It had smoothed over the centuries, no longer rough and freshly hewn. Even after all this time, it still fit his body perfectly.

         “Soon my sweet Juliet, you will come to me again and you will be mine. Forever,” he whispered to the night, sending his promise on the wind, knowing that it would reach her in time. Knowing she would shiver in fear at his power. He relished in the thought, leaned back in the throne and cackled with delight.



















2

         Blaire watched his Prince pace back and forth across his rooms, playing with his sword. It had been a long, slow month in Anoran. Nothing had happened, there were no tragedies. Everything was perfect. And it was driving Prince Connell mad, anxious. Sadly he was a man of action and there was no action to be had.

         “My Prince, perhaps we could go out to the training yard,” Blaire suggested again.

         “Did that yesterday,” Connell said swinging his sword.

         “Or go hunting?”

         “And we did that the past three days before the training yard.” He took a few steps, dodging an invisible enemy before stabbing a pillow beside Blaire on the lounge.

         “Your mother is not going to appreciate another of her pillow’s meeting its end,” Blaire scowled as Connell laughed and pulled his sword out. Stuffing went flying across the room, landing in Blaire’s lap. “And now you stain me with the evidence. For shame, my Prince.”

         Connell laughed sharply going to stare out his high window overlooking the town beyond the walls. Something was bothering him, making him pace, making him agitated. He had to move, had to do something, but he didn’t know what. It was going to drive him mad if he didn’t figure it out soon.

         “I can’t explain it, Blaire, there’s just…a feeling that I’m missing something.”

         “Like what, my Prince? Your brother making an idiot of himself at court?”

         “No, I don’t wish to see anymore of him. He’s turned into a drunken laughingstock and over what I ask you? Nothing, absolutely nothing!”

         “I wouldn’t say over nothing, my friend.” Blair stood and went to lean on the wall besides his Prince. “There are rumors floating around the servants and courtiers.”

         “What? That father has named me his heir? Simply rumors, Blaire nothing more,” he said slapping a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I think I would know if they were.”

         Blaire shrugged with a smile then walked towards the door. “Why don’t we find some pretty ladies this eve? Go dancing at the taverns. Might take your mind off things.”

         At the thought of a woman holding him, Connell bristled. It confused him, but he only wanted one woman holding him and she was…well he wasn’t sure who she was. His dreams were even turning into visions of a woman, calling to him, but he never saw her face, or heard her name. He could tell she was in pain, frightened, but he couldn’t reach her.

         A knock on the door distracted Connell as he called for whoever it was to enter. Orrick, one of his close friends and personal guard stepped in, bowing his head in respect.

         “Ah, Orrick, perhaps you have come to tell me of a tragedy that has struck the Kingdom? Some problem that requires my sword,” Connell asked hopeful.

         “Sadly no, my Prince. Your father just asked me to pass on a message.”

         “Let me guess. Watch my brother while mother and he go and visit the outer villages?”

         Orrick laughed quietly settling down on the couch. He picked up the stabbed pillow with a raised brow before tossing it aside. “No, not quite. He wishes to have a banquet within a week in order to showcase available women within the Kingdom for his sons to visit with in a mature and sociable manner. The announcements were sent out yesterday. You are to be in charge.”

         Blaire laughed at Connell’s grimace. “Oh, my Prince, you get to taste all the riches of the land! It shall be exciting, just the adventure you need.”

         Connell grimaced, but followed Orrick and Blaire out the door as they both talked of where to go in the village to gather the required items. Their Prince nodded in agreement and declined any comments on the young available women of his Kingdom who might appear that night. His heart yearned for the woman in his dreams, but that was not something he would confide to these two men. It sounded like he was a woman, pining for her lost love and he was most certainly not that.

         As they headed into the market square, Connell’s thoughts drifted farther and farther away from the banquet. He felt as if someone was calling his name, touching him on the shoulder. He kept turning towards the feeling, but no one was there.

         “My Prince, are you feeling alright,” Orrick asked quietly after watching Connell turn for a fourth time. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sheathed sword, eyes constantly searching for threats. He saw nothing.

         “What? No, I mean yes, I’m quite fine. What have you go there, Blaire?” He tried to distract himself and spoke to the vendor about the price of the linens for the tables and chairs. The color was a vibrant violet with just a tint of blue that reminded him of something, but he couldn’t catch onto the thought. Instead, he handed the man a small pouch of gold coins, ignoring the man’s protests that he was overpaying. “My good man, you always have the finest quality of linens and service this Kingdom well. Take it as a bonus, eh?”

         The vendor bowed his head at the compliments. “Thank you, your Grace, thank you.”

         Connell bowed his head then ordered the linens to be carted back to the castle. He led the way to the next vendor, trying desperately to throw himself into the conversation with Blaire about flowers to be used as decoration. The woman who stood behind the stall smiled brightly at Connell as he approached, being certain to bow low enough for her cleavage to be seen above her tight blouse.

         “My Prince, it is good to see you this day,” she crooned.

         The Prince tried to smile and bowed his head before coughing uncomfortably and turning back to Blaire. “What flowers do you suggest?”

         “We have the best variety in the market,” the woman cut in brusquely. “Roses I think would fit the banquet the best, your Grace. Women always love roses,” she said pointing to the large arrangement near the front.

         Connell turned to her smiling broadly as Blaire rolled his eyes. “Really? Well then Blaire, I believe we shall take the orchids and the vines that this young woman has displayed so beautifully.”

         The woman’s eyes turned cold and her smile disappeared, but she bowed her head and began to gather the flowers for Connell’s servants to take back to the castle.

         “Good day, milady,” he said to her then walked away, Blaire muttering under his breath as Orrick laughed.

         “I have a feeling that your father might want you to have better manners around available women at the banquet, sire,” Orrick said.

         “When they don’t purposely press their cleavage into my face, I will,” he shot back, irritation stretching across his face. The feeling was back and it was stronger, pulling him through the village, out towards the countryside. “I think it’s time for a ride,” he said veering off the main road and heading back towards the stables to collect his horse.

         Orrick and Blaire exchanged a disproving look before following their Prince. Orrick called back to the small group of royal guards escorting them to send a message back to the castle before they entered the stables and saddled up.

         “Just where are you planning on riding to, your Grace,” Blaire asked swinging up into his saddle as Connell was already riding out.

         “Wherever my heart leads me,” was his quiet reply, but the others didn’t hear him. They just followed their Prince, hoping that he wasn’t beginning to turn down the path of madness his twin had already gone.

* * *

         The feeling was intense, almost knocking Connell from his horse. They had been riding for hours and night was quickly falling around them. Orrick had already requested three times that they head back, but Connell ignored him. The woman was calling him, reaching out for him and he was so close now, so close to finding her. He couldn’t explain it, least of all to them. They wouldn’t understand. He pulled his horse to a sudden halt as a new scent struck his nose causing the others to ride past him before hastily pulling up.

         “My Prince? What is it, what’s wrong,” Blaire asked.

         “Fire, there’s a fire,” Orrick answered instead and turned his head back down the road. “Smoke on the horizon! Hurry!”

         He took off and the others followed. As they rode closer, flames came into view, roaring around what had once been a cottage. There were men running around it, swords out and Connell’s heart quickened in anger.

         “Halt! In the name of the King,” Orrick yelled jumping down from his horse and drawing his sword in one smooth action.

The royal guard followed his lead, but the men didn’t stop. Instead they yelled and charged the guards and Orrick. Swords clashed as they fought the men who had attacked this defenseless cottage. More men came running from the back, swords drawn and screeching like banshees. Blaire and Connell quickly dismounted and joined the fray.

Blaire stayed close to his Prince as he fought, punching one man before flipping over his back and kicking him in the back. The man sprawled in the dirt and Blaire efficiently knocked him out with another kick. A second man charged and their blades met before his face. Beside him, Connell drove his blade through one man’s belly, pushing him off the blade just as quickly before turning with his dagger to run through another’s leg. The man swung wildly at him with his blade, but Connell dodged them all, stabbing the man through the neck.

It was then he noticed the body closer to the house, where the front door had once been before flames had engulfed the cottage. Connell called to Blaire and pointed. The two fought their way to the man on the ground. He had been stabbed by one of the others. So much of his blood covered the dirt beneath him, spilling out from his belly.

“How do you know he’s not one of theirs,” Blaire asked.

“Look where he’s lying. He was defending when he was struck down. Look at the ground, see the tracks?”

“Orrick has taught you too well,” his friend sighed then bent down to check the man’s wound. “He won’t make it.”

“I know…so does he.” Connell bent closer as the man’s lips began to move fervently trying to speak.

“Find her…find…orchard…told her to run-,” his words were cut short by violent coughs that shook his body. His eyes searched Connell’s desperately for understanding. “Protect her,” he gasped out then stilled, his eyes frozen open in death.

“What did he say?”

Connell closed the man’s eyes then stood quickly. “There’s a woman or a girl, someone else here.” He glanced around then spotted the treetops over the roof. “Orchard, she’s in the orchard! Hurry Blaire!”

Connell sprinted around the cottage, pulse pounding in his ears. The tugging he’d felt all day grew with every step he ran, guiding him through the orchard. It was dark amongst the trees and he slowed his steps realizing what he might sound like to a frightened woman, hell it could be a child. He slowed his pace and began calling out, but there was no answer. Blaire stayed close to his back in case any of the fighters from the cottage followed. It was he that noticed the sudden shadow blur through the trees to their right and pointed that direction.

They turned and headed that way, careful where they tread. Connell saw the shadow move through the trees again then pause behind a large trunk and did not come out again. He motioned for Blaire to stay back as he strode forward, forcing his eyes to focus in the darkness. He was feet away from the tree and was about to call out when a woman screamed and rushed him, sword in her shaking hands. She swung it wildly at him, weakly, tears streaming down her face. Connell dodged the attacks and swiftly caught her hands in his, stilling the blade.

A bulge bumped against his hip and he glanced down, eyes widening in anger. She was pregnant. Those bastards had attacked a pregnant woman. He would kill them all.

“Let me go you bastard!” She screamed over and over as she fought to keep hold of the sword, but it was pried from her hands.

“Milady, please calm yourself,” Connell soothed. “My name is Connell, Prince Connell. We’re here to help you.”

She stilled at his words and stared up at him. In the dark she couldn’t make out his features, but she sensed his emotions. They were strong, burning with anger and worry for her. “Prince Connell?”

He nodded. “We were riding when we saw the fire. My guards are fighting them as we speak.” He stared down at her and noticed the pain etched across her face and the dark spots staining the skirt of her dress. “Are you wounded?”

She shook her head until she glanced down. Her eyes widened as she stumbled back against the tree. “No, no…please God no!” A sudden pain shot up from her abdomen and she bent in half, falling until Connell caught her and swept her up into his arms. She was still muttering incoherently, but she’d lost consciousness.

“Connell, hurry. She needs a healer,” Blaire said as they headed back to the cottage.

“She needs more than a healer,” he cursed as the blood continued to spread, covering his arms quickly. He’d been around enough women to know what was happening. His heart weighed heavy as he hurried back to the others, filled with the knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to save her unborn child. She began to thrash in his arms, so badly that he almost dropped her several times before they made it back to the front of the cottage.

The fire still raged, destroying the small home, but the men responsible were all dead but one. Orrick’s blade was pushed against his throat so he couldn’t move. At the sight of his Prince, Orrick stepped back and let another guard take his place.

“Connell, who is she? She needs a healer,” Orrick said surprised to find his Prince carrying a woman. The amount of blood was alarming. “She will need to ride with you somehow.”

Connell nodded trying to figure out how they were going to get her on a horse. There was no wagon to be seen, but it didn’t matter. She was going to die next if they couldn’t get her away from this place.

“Hold on, little one,” he whispered to her as she gasped again in pain. “Just hold on. I’ll take care of you, I swear by my crown I will.”

* * *

Juliet was tired, so tired. It was a struggle to open her eyes, to keep them open for more than a second. Her whole body ached. Every muscle screamed at her when she tried to move to see where she was. Everything was fuzzy. She had a vision she knew that much, but couldn’t recall any images. Her room was dark, the curtains pulled tightly across the window…except that wasn’t where her window should be.

She sat up quickly, regretting it as pain shot through her body making her gasp and her eyes tear.  The door was in the wrong place, too and the furniture. She didn’t recognize anything. Was she still in a vision? Juliet glanced around heart pounding in fear when she noticed the absence of fog. She was awake, which meant she had been taken. Those bastards.

It was Bastien’s men who had attacked the cottage, had fought Flynn. Where was Flynn? She glanced around the room, but it was too small to be hiding him in it. She prayed he wasn’t dead as she swung her feet over the edge of the bed. Her head swam with dizziness, but she forced her breathing to be deep, in and out until it stopped. This room, she didn’t recognize it from the castle. She might still be in Anoran somewhere. She could still escape before they took her to Bastien.

She gripped the bed and levered herself up, wrapping her other arm around her throbbing middle and she almost fainted. Tears slid from her closed eyes as she shook her head in disbelief, not wanting to look down, not want to see the proof of what her heart was telling her.

Her baby, her sweet, innocent unborn child was gone from her womb. The only part of her King she had left and now it was dead, too.

Sobs shook her frame, but she kept them quiet. After a long moment she let her pain be replaced by the anger at losing so much because of one man. One horrid, villainous man that she was going to bring to his knees or die trying.

Juliet stood, her legs shaking as she tried to walk. Her hands reached out using the tables and pulled herself along the wall to reach the door. She expected it to be locked, but when she twisted the knob it swung open silently. She peered around the doorway to see a hallway, simply decorated and only going one direction from her room. There’d be nowhere to go if they discovered her now, but she had to risk it. Quietly, she pulled her door closed behind her then started off. Her hands felt along the darkened walls, trying to keep her balance. Her legs began to shake violently beneath her. Too much stress on her body too soon.

If she did manage to make it outside she’d probably die in the storm that rumbled around this place. It would be better than being tortured by Bastien at least. Dying in the rain. Didn’t sound so bad the more she thought of it.

Her body jerked as another strong pain erupted in her abdomen. She reached out blindly, grabbing hold of a table, but it wasn’t strong enough to hold her up and they both crashed to the floor. Glass shattered around her from something on top of it and she gasped as a sliver sliced her hand open. She cursed as voices sounded down the hall, heavy footsteps coming her way. She was doomed. They would find her trying to escape and tie her to a bed and she couldn’t even fight them off. Her vision was already growing hazy, her breathing heavy.

A small light lit the hall as two men appeared around the corner with a candle, swords out. When they spied Juliet on the floor, they quickly sheathed them and reached out to grab her.

“Don’t touch me,” she gasped, unable to yell any louder. She tried to scramble away, but her limbs were in too much agony to listen to her mind.

“Milday, we’re not going to hurt you,” one said crouching down beside her slowly, hands raised to show her they were empty. “Please, let us get you back to bed. You need rest.”

His voice, it flowed over her in soothing waves. It was familiar to her, but she couldn’t place it. Didn’t matter. She was going to fade into another vision and leave them behind. She stared at them trying to decide if they could be Bastien’s men or not when another wave of pulsing pain from her hand drew her back to the blood and she faded into her waiting vision.

* * *

Connell caught her head before it fell to the floor and propped her body up gently against his. She was so small in his arms, so fragile. He glanced around at the small mess in the hall then spotted the blood on her hand.

“Bandaging, Orrick. She sliced her hand open,” he said carefully lifting it and placing his shirt tightly over the wound to help slow the seeping blood.

Orrick nodded, setting the candle down on the floor beside his Prince. “I’m surprised she made it out of bed, let alone halfway down the hall. She’s certainly stronger than she looks.”

“I wonder if she realized…” he trailed off, running his other hand over where her pregnant belly had been hours before. The healer had given Juliet something while she’d been unconscious, to help the dead life leave her body. It was the worst thing Connell had ever seen, that little thing, that little baby, dead before it even entered the world. The healer had showed him the stab wound through her belly that had caused the death. Those men had stabbed a pregnant woman, purposely to kill her child. He would have private words with the one surviving villain soon enough.

Orrick laid a comforting hand on his Prince’s shoulder. “I’ll get the bandages,” he said then disappeared back down the hall.

Connell brushed auburn hair from the woman’s face as she muttered incoherently in his arms. It was silk in his fingers, long too. Nearly past her hips. Very fine for a peasant or a farmer’s wife. He watched her eyes move back and forth under the lids, wondering what she was seeing in her dreams. He hoped it was not the burning cottage. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her that the man, her husband maybe, was dead. They’d wrapped his body and it was lying in another room, waiting to be taken with them back to the castle.

The tugging feeling he’d had for the past several months ebbed when she was in his presence. His heart didn’t thud with anxiety and he didn’t twitch with the need to go somewhere, to find the woman he had dreamt. He couldn’t see her face too well in the shadows of the candle, but just by being this close to her, he knew. Connell had a connection to this woman, something he didn’t understand and couldn’t explain, but it was there. Simmering under his skin, telling him he needed to protect her. He needed to be by her side.

But he wondered if she would feel the same.

“Your Grace, coaches have been brought from the castle,” Orrick said startling Connell from his thoughts. He held out bandaging as he continued, “We are ready to leave whenever you think she can handle the trip.”

Connell nodded then wrapped the wounded hand tightly. She winced in his lap, but didn’t wake or try to hit him. A good sign hopefully. With Orrick’s help, they got her up into his arms.

“Tell Blaire to load the man’s body and alert the guard that we will be leaving shortly. I would like to make it back home before this storm hits its peak and makes the roads too muddy to travel.”

Orrick bowed his head and led the way down the hall into the sitting area of the healer’s home. She was residing in a chair by the fire, sleeping lightly, a book resting in her lap. The moment Connell entered with the woman, her eyes opened and she turned to them both, a light smile on her face.

“Thank you for your aid, madam,” Connell whispered over the woman’s head in his arms. “It was greatly appreciated.”

“That woman you carry is special, my Prince. Do not treat her lightly. Protect her,” she told him. “For if you do not, you will surely lose her.”

The healer went over and laid a warm hand on the woman’s forehead in blessing then headed off to her room. She left the Prince to replay her words over and over in his mind as he loaded the wounded woman gently into a coach and headed off for the capital.













         











3

         Juliet stirred, dragging herself out of the foggy world she’d been thrown into too many times in the last few days. It was exhausting and her head was pounding with the mental beating. It wasn’t like she’d been shown anything helpful. Just fighting and her death once again. She’d thought it would have come already. Too bad it hadn’t. She smoothed her hands over her belly and tears pricked her eyes once again as she felt the emptiness inside her.

         Hastily she wiped away the tears and looked around the room, expecting to be in the same place. She was startled to find she’d been moved and her hand had been bandaged. It was still storming outside, but she could tell it wasn’t night. There was enough light trickling in through the windows, beautiful windows in a magnificent room. The furniture and linens were deep violets and silvers. A room meant for someone grand, perhaps the Queen she used to be, but not anymore. She felt out of place. At least she knew she was not back in Brolach.

         Something moved across the room and Juliet froze. She wasn’t alone. Quietly she sat up and peered through the gloom to see a figure asleep in one of the chairs in front of the hearth, a heavy cloak draped across his body. She glanced around and spotted a vase nearby. It would have to do for a weapon until she had some answers.

         Juliet slipped from the bed and picked up the vase. She crept across the room, always glancing back at the door in case someone else decided to barge in. She was about a foot away from the man in the chair when a wave of warmth washed over her body and stilled her feet. It was comforting, made her feel safe, protected in this man’s presence. She squinted at his face, admiring the strong jaw and firm cheekbones, the light brown hair that fell across his brow and down to his shoulders. Her eyes wandered down to his muddy boots and the mess they’d created on the rug beneath. He was still wearing his travel clothes. This man, she’d seen him in the orchard. This man had saved her?

         “If you’re going to hit me over the head with something, at least make it worthwhile,” he said startling her back a few steps. One eye cracked open followed wearily by the second. “Odd way to say thank you to your rescuers.”

         Juliet lowered the vase with a shrug, staring deep into those eyes. The deepest jade she’d ever seen shined back at her with worry as he removed the cloak and stretched.

         “I still don’t know who you are,” she said in defense backing up another few steps when he stood. “Stay back or I’ll smash this over your skull.” He was strong; she could see the muscles of his biceps and shoulders as he stood before her. He was tall too, nearly three heads over her petite frame. She felt so vulnerable with this man and at the same time the safest she’d ever bee. Couldn’t be Bastien’s man. Too much kindness in his eyes.

         “I am not going to hurt you, milady,” he said gently. He bowed to her and she immediately recognized the manner from court. “My name is Prince Connell of Anoran and you are currently a guest in my father’s castle.”

         “Prince? It was you in the orchard,” she asked confused. “How did you know there was trouble? Does the Prince regularly ride around the countryside searching for danger,” she added mocking, thoughts racing through her head. Not Bastien’s man. She was safe for a while at least.

         He smiled. “No, not normally. Just luck I guess that brought us to you…I am sorry milady that we were too late.” He couldn’t stop his glance going down to her belly. “I’m so sorry.”

         Juliet set the vase down on a table, turning her back to him. “There was a man with me, where is he? I would like to speak with him.”

         There was no answer to her question, but she heard the nervous shift of feet. She turned back around shaking her head.

         “I will give you a moment to dress then I will take you to him. There are gowns in the wardrobe and I will be just outside your door,” he said then bowed his head and made for the door. His hand was on the knob before he realized he still didn’t know her name. “I wonder if you’d be so kind as to tell me who you are.”

         She hesitated for just a second. “Juliet, my name is Juliet.”

         “I am sorry to have met you under such saddening circumstances, Juliet, but if it’s all the same, I’m glad I’m meeting you.” He watched her nod stiffly then left, closing the door quietly behind him.

         Juliet let one tear fall down her cheek as she walked to the windows. Rain fell straight down outside, no thunder, no lightning. Just the rain, as if the sky was crying for her so she wouldn’t have to show her pain. What would happen now? Should she tell Prince Connell who she really was? Risk that he might let it slip? Or perhaps he’d think she was a fraud.

         Perhaps Bastien would find out and put them all in danger, all because of her. No, she couldn’t let that happen. No one else was going to die trying to protect her. She would keep it a secret for as long as she could and pray she’d find a way around the vision haunting her nightmares. Juliet pressed her palm flat against the glass letting it chill her skin, narrowing her eyes as she stared over the land that was not her home. Would never be her home.

         She no longer had a home and no hope for a future. But this Prince Connell, she would have to see about him. Maybe there was a way to make him her ally, but then again she’d never allowed herself to fully trust anyone. Not even Flynn, not even her late King. She was doomed to be alone and remain so.

         After a long moment, she turned to the wardrobe and pulled a long white gown from it. She let the simple dress she’d slept in fall to the floor. Her hands slid down her belly and found the wound where the villain had stabbed her through, his intention clear in his eyes as he’d whispered to her that Bastien wanted her to be his, all his, when they brought her in. The outer wound was healing well, the stitches neat and the flesh uninfected. She slipped the gown over her head and tied the strings tight in the back. Her waist was tiny once more, so tiny compared to her pregnant belly.

         There were matching shoes below the hanging gowns and she pulled them on then took one last deep breath as she went to meet the Prince outside her door.

* * *

         Connell stood back from the table the body had been lain out on, waiting for burning or burial. He expected Juliet to burst into tears, faint at the sight of a man still so bruised in death, but she simply stood by the man’s side and took his cold hand in hers.

         “He was your husband,” Connell finally asked, trying to ignore the jealousy building in his gut.

         “No, a trusted friend to the end, but not my husband.”

         “And he was the father of your…he was the father?” He didn’t wish to upset her, but the circumstances were curious.

         “No, but he offered to be a replacement,” she said with a sad smile. “A man that would raise a child as his own when it’s not is hard to come by in this world.”

         His jealousy turned to anger when he realized the father of her unborn child had abandoned her in some way. “What happened to the father? Why would he leave you pregnant?”

         She spun around, angry herself at his insistent questions, and balled her fists at her side. The idea of hitting him sounded good at the moment. “Because he was murdered you ignorant man. My husband was murdered and his dear friend Flynn swore he’d look after me. But now…” she trailed off turning back to Flynn’s body, running her fingers through his hair, “now I have no one.”

         Connell watched speechless as she bent down and kissed Flynn’s forehead, whispering to him.

         “His body will be burned. It’s how he would want to go,” she said stiffly when she turned to face Connell again. “The men that attacked me, did you capture any?”

         He shook his head before she could even ask. “I will not take you to see him. That man tried to kill you-”

         “Yes, and I want to look him in the eyes and show him I’m still alive,” she shot back, “Your Grace,” she added hastily. It was hard to remember that she was not a Queen to this man, not in this court, but a lowly peasant. She had to reign in her mouth before she got herself into trouble.

         Connell raised his brow and crossed his arms at her tone, but didn’t say a word. He sighed heavily, staring down at his boots until he finally motioned for her to follow him out of the room. He led her down corridors bustling with servants and courtiers. They all bowed their heads to their Prince and he greeted them with a warm smile as if nothing was amiss. Their eyes were curious about Juliet, but they didn’t say anything except “Hello milady,” and kept walking. They went down stairs and more stairs until finally they came to a wing with two guards standing post outside the door.

         Connell gave them the orders and they opened the door, one leading the way down another flight of stone steps, into darkness kept at bay with only a few torches. When they reached the bottom, Juliet saw cells stretching far down either side of the corridor and a guard posted every few feet. Most of the cells appeared to be empty, but not the one they stopped in front of. The guard pulled out a key and waited for the command from his Prince.

         “Are you certain you wish to see him, Juliet,” Connell asked quietly one last time.

         “They always say it’s better to confront your nightmares, Your Grace,” she answered without faltering.

         Connell nodded then asked the guard to open the cell door. The key grated in the lock and the door swung inward on rusting hinges that groaned in protest. The guard grabbed a torch from the wall and led the way inside the cell, ordering the prisoner back up against the far wall.

         Connell entered before Juliet, shielding her from view. “You my friend are going to meet your death at dawn,” he told the prisoner.

         The man spat at his feet and the guard rewarded him with a punch to his gut, buckling him in two. “Swift justice from the Prince of Anoran,” he jeered. “And for what, burning a cottage and attacking a whore?”

         “Harsh words from a dying man,” Juliet called from behind Connell and the man stopped laughing instantly. She moved forward and glared at the prisoner. “You stole my child from me.”

         The man leered, leaning forward as far as the guard would allow. “And I wish to steal so much more. Would have. Too bad, we were almost successful.”

         “Almost, but you failed and now no one else can finish the job for you,” she whispered stepping closer, just a hand’s reach away from him. She smiled darkly, tilting her head as she studied his face. “Such a pity for you and your master.”

         “More will come for you,” he told her, enjoying the small spark of fear in her eyes. “He will never stop hunting for you. It’s your destiny and his-”

         Before Connell or the guard could stop her, Juliet reached around, grabbed a dagger from the guard’s belt and thrust it at the prisoner’s groin. She pierced the fabric and knew she’d touched skin when the man trembled, forcing himself to remain still as he grimaced.

         “Say one more word and you will die without your manhood,” she whispered harshly in his face. “He will never have me, in this life or any other. And you can die as the traitor you are to your Queen, Douglas.”

She made certain he was the only one who heard the last and the moment she backed away, he struggled against the chains, fighting to get at her. She’d known he was one of her former guards the moment she heard his voice. Sweet, innocent Douglas who had taken care of her since she was sixteen, who had betrayed her in the end and stabbed her straight through with his sword. Traitor.

         “I curse you, bitch, you and your savior Prince! He won’t keep you safe forever!”

         Connell pried the dagger from her hands and shoved her from the cell, grabbing her upper arm to escort her away from the dungeons and back into the light of the castle. The man’s screams followed them the entire way until the door was shut and locked once more behind them. Once they rounded a corner, he pulled Juliet into a small alcove and bent down to stare into her eyes.

         “What did he mean, more will come?”

         Juliet didn’t blink. “I don’t know, my Prince. Perhaps he has gone insane.”

         She was lying; he could tell by the way she held his gaze so steady.

         “And who is this he? Did you know that man, Juliet?”

         Should she come clean now? No, it was too soon. She did not know this man well enough, did not know if he’d protect her or throw her to the wolves in the end. He might be familiar to her, but emotions could be deceiving.

         “No, I did not, my Prince. Are you done interrogating me?” She waited until he reluctantly nodded then headed back towards her room.

         Connell watched her walk away. She walked with a grace he’d only seen among women of the court. She held her head high and shoulders straight and proud. He was starting to get the feeling that he saved more than just a peasant woman two days ago. A woman who had more secrets than his entire court did.

         And he knew the perfect man to find out what those were.

* * *

         Several days passed and Juliet was beginning to go stir crazy. She had watched Flynn’s body turn to ash and the last of Bastien’s men hang in the criminal’s yard, but there was no satisfaction to be given from either event. Bastien was still very much alive and ruling her Kingdom. She knew what he’d been after and now that he had access to the royal guards, to her army, he would find them all and begin the trade again in Brolach. Just when she had finally released her country from such horrors, he was going to bring them right back. And here she sat like the pretty guest she was though she started to feel more like a prisoner.

         She glanced across the room at the man standing by her door, feet apart, one hand resting on his sword and the other on his hip. Orrick, her new personal bodyguard assigned to her by Prince Connell. Juliet was just so overjoyed. The man never sat down and never left her side and it was starting to get on her nerves. She needed to think, needed to plan, but she could do none of that with that damn man watching constantly.

         “You know, I don’t think someone is going to scale the side of the castle and break in through my window,” she finally said with a smile from her seat by the hearth.

         Orrick smiled that easy grin and shrugged. “Just following my orders, Juliet, nothing more.”

         “Could you perhaps follow your orders by standing guard outside my door?”

         “I’m afraid my Prince was very specific on his orders, milady.”

         Juliet nodded. She was beginning to learn something about this Prince Connell. He was very thorough and too curious for his own good. He had stopped asking about the prisoner, but she could tell he was onto her. He might not know who she was yet, but it wasn’t going to take long.

         “Why don’t you come and sit down,” she asked Orrick. “We can at least enjoy each other’s company instead of you becoming a new edition to the room like a statue.” She muttered the rest returning to the book in her hands. She’d been on the same page for a long time, unable to focus on the words, but she had to do something.

         Orrick strode over and sat down across from her with a slight bow of his head. “Thank you, milady.”

         “You were making me tired,” she replied quietly. She’d watched this man watching her for days, but she’d never actually seen him until now. He was attractive, taller than Connell, built more like the fighter she was certain he was. His dark chestnut eyes stared back calmly and his black hair was pulled back in a tight plait. Even with the jagged scar running from his eye down to his jaw, he was handsome to behold. “Are you married, Orrick?”

         The question startled him for a moment before he shook his head with a laugh. “No, milady.”

         “That’s a shame. I have a feeling you would make a young lady very happy.”

         His grin grew and his eyes lit up. He was definitely trouble.

         “Tell me about your Prince,” she asked setting her book aside.

         “My Prince? Don’t you mean our,” he shot back tilting his head. “You are a citizen of Anoran too, are you not?”

         Juliet mentally kicked herself. “Of course, I meant our Prince. Tell me about him. You two seem to be quite close.”

         “My father was a guard here many years ago,” he told her. “I grew up beside the Prince and his brother, but Blaire is Connell’s closest friend. Son of a Duke and so on. I just keep his Princely self safe from harm…which most of the time he gets himself into.”

         “Brother,” she asked shaking her head. “I haven’t heard mention of a brother.”

         “He’s not around much unless there’s a banquet. Tyranus is not what you would call the responsible twin. He’s more likely to be found drinking and, pardon my language, whoring.”

         “Twins, identical?”

         Orrick nodded, but began to grow suspicious at the questions. Anyone who lived in Anoran knew of the Prince’s brother, knew that he was a rebellious and ignorant bastard. This woman, no matter what she said, was not from here.

         “How long have you lived at your home,” he asked innocently. “I just wonder how hard the loss of it has hit you.”

         Juliet’s face scrunched at the question. “Not long, but I will just have to rebuild.”

         “Where did you live before there?”

         “I didn’t. I traveled and stayed at inns mostly,” she told him with a smile. “We enjoyed staying on the move. Are these questions important to you or important to your Prince, Orrick?”

         Orrick kept smiling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just making conversation.”

         “No, you’re digging. I’m not an idiot peasant girl who doesn’t see trickery, my friend. Why don’t you tell me what Prince Connell wants to know?”

         He leaned forward as he stared into the fire, pondering what to do with this woman. She didn’t act like a peasant, at least not like the ones he’d grown up with. Her eyes were so focused when she spoke. They absorbed every detail, every little movement and quirk that Orrick made. His own curiosities about her were beginning to cloud his judgment over what Connell wanted. Slowly he sat back and crossed his arms across his chest, meeting her level gaze.

         “Prince Connell simply wants to know who you are.”

         Juliet crossed her arms. “My name is Juliet and I lived in a small cottage with an orchard. That is all his Majesty needs to know.”

         “Why did those men attack you?”

         The question caught her off guard and she stood, pacing away towards the window. “I don’t know. Thievery?”

         “What would they possibly want with a small cottage in an orchard?” He watched her shoulders tense and her hands curl into fists before she took a deep breath and forced herself to turn around. “Milady, are you still in danger,” he asked quietly.

         She glared, not at him, but past as if she was seeing someone else in the room. “I wish to leave this castle as soon as possible and be on my way,” she answered forcing a smile onto her face. “What I do is none of the Prince’s concern.”

         “I’m sorry to disagree with you, milady, but you are in his Kingdom and until he tells me to no longer protect you, you will not leave my sight.”

         “Orrick, the last man that vowed to protect me wound up dead,” she whispered. All she could see was Flynn’s determined face on keeping her alive and raising the child that was not his. He had sworn loyalty to his Queen and he had kept his word ‘til the very end.

         He stood and went to her frowning. “You are not who you say you are.” It was not a question. He knew she was something more and those men that had attacked were after her for some other reason than simple thievery or kidnapping.

         Juliet didn’t know what to say and just blinked at him, backing towards the window as if she could escape telling the truth if she escaped this man’s compelling gaze.

         “Believe it or not,” he said when she finally opened her mouth to argue, “I know a thing or two about keeping secrets.”

         “Do you now?”

         “I protect the royalty of this Kingdom, what do you think,” he asked, his lips titled up in a crooked smile. “How about I make you a deal?”

         She raised her brow. “What are the terms of this deal, should I decide to take it?”

         “I will not tell Connell anything about our conversations, no matter how hard he pushes the issue…if,” he said holding up a finger as she started to smile, “if you promise to tell me what I need to know in order to keep you safe.”

         “No specifics,” she added and waited ‘til he reluctantly nodded. “At least…at least not yet.”

         Orrick held out his hand and she took it, grasping it firmly in her own. His skin was warm and his palm rough with callouses from long use of a sword. Without meaning to she stepped closer, pressing their clasped hands between their bodies until hers touched his shirt. He stared down at her curiously, still smiling, the scar shifting on his face. She wanted him to hold her, wanted to run her hands through his hair as it fell over his forehead.

         “I should, I should go back to uh, watching the door,” Orrick said, his words quiet as his eyes took in hers. The longer he stared he swore he saw something move in them, like another world trying to take him in.

         “That is after all your duty.” Juliet meant to let go of his hand, but she didn’t budge. 

         They stood close for a long moment. The only sounds in the room were their breathing and the crackling of logs in the hearth. Orrick finally pulled his wits together and released her hand reluctantly. He stepped back, running his hand through his hair as he laughed.

         “I’ll just be by the door, perhaps outside of it,” he muttered then turned. He heard her shift and turned back to see her back to him. He caught a brief glimpse of her face in the reflection of the window and sighed with the weight of the raw pain that was suddenly there. “Juliet, I am truly sorry for everything.”

         “You didn’t wield the blade that stole my child from me, Orrick,” she said as her hands started to wrap around her small waist. “The fault is not yours.”

         “You could always tell me who it lies with-”

         “No specifics, remember?” She heard his aggravated sigh and a bit of her grief lifted. “Good night Orrick.”

         He was about to open his mouth and respond when a knock came at her door. Orrick frowned, holding his hand up for her to stay by the window. His hand automatically went to his weapon as he asked who was there.

         “Your Prince wishes to give his good night wishes to Juliet,” a voice called through the door.

         Juliet watched closely as Orrick’s expression changed from wary to almost hateful as he went to the door and pulled it open, bowing his head to the man outside it.

         “My Prince, you’re up late this evening,” Orrick said tightly.

         The Prince strode into the room, his steps somewhat off as he waved the comment away. “It’s not later than any other night, my good man. Ah,” he nearly shouted as he spotted Juliet, “the lady of the hour. I have come to bid you good night.” He reached out and took her hand without waiting for her to offer and planted a wet kiss on the back of it.

         Juliet’s eyes narrowed as she fought the urge to rip it away. Instead, she glanced up to see Orrick’s hand gripping his weapon tightly in its sheath and grinding his teeth. When the man who appeared to be Connell stood straight she caught a whiff of his breath and sighed. Wine and mead and too much of both from the state he was in. The man before her was not the Prince who had so bravely saved her life.

         “My dear Prince, I do not believe we have met yet,” she said as politely as possible.

         “But of course we have. I saved your life just the other day,” he said and a glimpse of pent up anger flashed across his eyes.

         Juliet’s smile froze on her face as she watched it disappear back into the folds of the man before her. Behind the Prince, she saw Orrick tense and held her hand up when he started forward. He was definitely one of the best guards she’d ever seen. Picked up on the tiniest change on her face. That would come in handy later, especially if she was going to be dealing with this man in the future.

         “No, that was your brother, Prince Connell. You are the Prince I have yet to meet.”

         The man before her blinked and the smile faded from his face. Apparently many people could not tell the difference between the twin Princes and Juliet had to admit the similarities in looks was impeccable, but with Connell she felt safe, sensed his compassion. Lurking beneath the surface of this man she felt only darkness, a monster waiting to be unleashed.

         Orrick cleared his throat as he stepped forward. “Juliet, may I introduce Prince Tyranus to you.”

         “It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Prince Tyranus,” she said bowing her head.

         When she raised her head the monster was peeking out through his eyes, grinning at her darkly. This man had betrayal in him, down to his very bones and his gaze was fixed solely on Juliet. She forced herself to stand straight and not flinch as his smile returned looking more like a leer. Orrick let Prince Tyranus know that Juliet was retiring for the evening and they could continue this fascinating conversation tomorrow morning.

         “Very well then. Until tomorrow, dear Juliet.” The Prince winked and Juliet nearly fell over in a dead faint. She swore it was Bastien staring back at her through his eyes, the touch of evil she hadn’t seen in his until it was too late.

         The moment the door closed behind both men she sank back against the wall and slid to the floor. If Bastien still retained the power he had before then he might very well be looking through the Prince’s eyes. He could have seen her, could know where she’s hiding. Juliet pulled her legs close to her body and wrapped her arms tightly about them. She didn’t sleep that night. Her gaze focused on the flames in the hearth, the flames that haunted her and crackled of her doom in their depths.

         

         



















4

         Connell glared down at his brother, lying on the couch with a wet cloth covering his face. Yet another morning with a hangover from boozing too much at the taverns. Connell was used to seeing Tyranus in such a state, especially if their parents were out of the capital for a few days. It was not his brother’s state that made him angry that morning.

         It was the fact that he’d tried to trick Juliet into thinking he was Connell that riled him. What made him smile though while his brother was groaning in pain was the fact that Juliet, this simple woman, had figured it out within mere minutes. She had not fallen for Tyranus’ trick like so many others. Connell wanted to know how. Even their parents had problems telling one twin from the other unless they spoke with them for the length of a conversation, or if Tyranus showed up drunk.

         “You cannot act like this tonight,” Connell continued his lecture shaking his head. “You are to be responsible and mature at the banquet and not act like the drunken idiot you tend to be.”

         Tyranus held a hand up in defense. “I am not an idiot when I’m drunk. The ladies find me much more attractive in that state.”

         “Yes, because you’re vulnerable royalty! They’re trying to take advantage of you, brother.  I insist that at the banquet you do not drink any mead or wine. You must keep a level head to impress the ladies of the court or of higher standing.”

         “What about Juliet?”

         Connell’s eyes narrowed. “What about her? She’s a guest in this castle until I say otherwise.”

         “Will she be at the banquet,” he pressed on.

         “I don’t know. She has been through quite an ordeal on top of having to deal with you last night. I’m not sure what she’s thinking right now.” He shifted as he watched his brother rub his face with the cloth. “Why were you visiting her so late?”

         Tyranus shrugged as he forced his body into a sitting position and grimaced at the throbbing of his forehead. “You rescued her. I figured a woman such as her would be grateful to such a man and give him his dues…or your dues…whichever works for me-”

          “You selfish asshole,” Connell yelled charging his brother until he scrambled off the couch and backed into the far wall. “How dare you!”

         “She’s a peasant, Connell. No need to get so mad about it,” Tyranus yelled back. “She’s beneath our care.”

         “She was just stabbed in an attack and lost her unborn child!” Connell grabbed the front of Tyranus’ shirt and shook him. “If father were here right now he’d kick you out on your backside and forbid you from attending tonight festivities!”

         Tyranus grabbed his brother’s wrists harshly. “Get your hands off of me, brother. And father is not here so I will do as I please.”

         Reluctantly Connell released him and stepped back. “You will stay away from Juliet.”

         “Who’s going to stop me? Your man Orrick? Please, like I couldn’t take him if I wanted to.” He pushed past Connell and opened the door, motioning with his arm for his brother to leave. “If you don’t mind, I must prepare myself for the banquet and I believe you have to finish seeing to the details.”

         Connell strode past his brother with narrowed eyes as he whispered, “I’ll be watching you, Tyranus.”

         “No, brother,” Tyranus muttered as Connell disappeared down the hall, “I’ll be watching you. That’s a promise you can count on.”

* * *

         The sun was just starting to set when the carriages and wagons filled with the young, available women of the Kingdom arrived with their escorts for the banquet. Juliet rolled her eyes as each strolled into the castle with bright smiles and eager eyes. She felt sorry for the girl that fell for Tyranus. Probably be beaten or killed within a few years.

         “Yes, Juliet let’s think happy thoughts as you try not to be depressed,” she scolded herself pushing away from the window.

         She’d been invited to join the banquet, but still wasn’t sure about attending. Connell had delivered a fresh new gown in a deep blue, to bring out her eyes he’d said, if she decided to go. He also apologized for his brother and his antics telling her that he’d warned Tyranus to stay away from his guest or Orrick would step in. Juliet liked the idea of seeing Orrick beat Tyranus to a bloody pulp. Made her wonder how he’d stand up against Bastien.

         The dress was laid out on the bed and she ran her fingers over the silk fabric. It was indeed beautiful. The Prince had an eye for fashion. She’d been to so many balls and banquets at her own court, when it’d been a happy place, not filled with treachery and liars. But even she had to admit every court had its gossipers, especially of the female variety. She never partook in their criticism of every single person that came to court, but she listened and heard every word. Several times she would step down from her seat and tell them to keep their opinions to themselves when in her court because it was indeed her court. The Ladies would scatter, but Juliet always saw their snide smiles and annoyed looks as she went back to her throne, her King laughing lightly beside her. He would take her hand and tell her that she was the most gracious Queen he could have ever hoped to marry and that her court would always have the best mannered women because of it.

         Juliet backed away from the dress as a knock sounded at the door. If she went tonight, she would be just another Lady and not even that in their eyes.  A peasant girl. She’d be part of their gossiping for certain. Could she handle that right now?

          She pulled open the door a crack and peeked out to see Orrick standing there smiling down at her.

         “Just me, I promise,” he said when she opened the door wider and glanced around. “I have come to be your escort tonight.”

         She waved him in shaking her head as she took in his formal attire. It looked exactly like everything else he wore except all black. How fitting for the Prince’s assassin.

         “I don’t believe I’m attending the banquet after all,” she informed him leaning her back against the closed door.

         “You don’t like your dress,” he asked with a smile. When she continued to stare past him out the window he sighed. “I didn’t think you would want to. That’s what I told the Prince, but he insisted that I ask again.”

         “I don’t need to suffer through another banquet with little girls trying to act like women,” she spat angrily before pulling back her emotions. “Sorry, I’m just a bit anxious being cooped up here all day.”

         “So you’ve been to banquets before,” he asked sitting down on the arm of a chair, watching her face. Her eyes narrowed and she chewed her bottom lip. It appeared she’d slipped up again. “Where at?”

         “In a court far away from this one.” Her voice sounded longing and filled with the grief she’d still been unable to lift herself from.

         “How old are you, Juliet?”

         The question caught her off guard and she scoffed pushing away from the door. “As if I would tell you.”

         “I’m merely curious. You called the young things down stairs girls, which implies you’re older, more mature, but you look quite young still. I am twenty-six if it makes you feel better,” he said with a fake frown. “Gray hairs are starting to sprout all over my head.”

         “Alright, alright. I’m twenty-four.”

         “So not much older than those young women downstairs.”

         “Depends on how you define age,” she muttered going to stare at the window. “Look at them all. Dressed in their finest clothes and hoping to land with one of the Princes so they can become a Princess and live at court.” She laughed bitterly. “Court is not a fairy tale, but they always think it is.”

         Orrick went to her side and watched the women stride into court, heads held high. He had to admit she was right. All these pretty things would be eaten alive if they ever truly came to stay at court. It was not a fun adventure filled with romance and riches.

         “You said you were tired of being here,” he said quietly. “If you could go anywhere tonight, just for tonight, where would it be?”

         “My cottage,” she finally answered. “I left many valuable items behind. If they have not been found yet, I would like to retrieve them.”

         “Then I shall make you a deal.”

         “You and your damn deals,” she laughed turning to him.

         “You attend the banquet for an hour and I will sneak you out of here to your cottage. Agreed?”

         “Agreed, but why are you doing this? Your Prince will be very upset with you-”

         Orrick laid a hand over hers and smiled. “Let me worry about him. You need to worry about you. I will await you outside and escort you down.”

         He turned to go, but Juliet stilled him, grabbing his arm. “Wait, you didn’t tell me why you were doing this for me?”

         Gently he took her hand and squeezed gently. “You are a curious woman, milady, one full of mysteries which I intend to figure out one of these days.” He stepped closer, pulling her to him. “There is something about you that draws me in. A fierceness in you that calls to me, a warrior hiding behind who you show now.”

         Juliet’s breaths were becoming unsteady as she stared back into his eyes. “I don’t know how to fight,” was all she could mutter and he laughed. It was a deep rumble that she felt in her limbs.

         “Then I shall teach you, but first let’s get through tonight.” He lifted her hand from his arm and kissed the back of it. His lips left her burning for more, but he released her hand and left her to change.

         Out in the hallway, Orrick paced back and forth, running a hand over his face as he tried to figure out what was happening. This woman was going to drive him mad if he had to be her bodyguard for too much longer. The thought made him smile. He’d been with women, but none of them had Juliet’s fire that burned deep within her. She was more than just a peasant, more than just an ordinary woman. She might not have told him yet, but she was in danger. He could sense it in the way she tensed whenever someone knocked on her door, or she heard shouting in the courtyard. There were men after her and he was going to figure out who and hunt them down. Perhaps relieve them of their heads.

         The door opened behind him and he turned with a smile that fell from his face as he stared at Juliet. She looked like a Queen in the blue gown and he was in awe. The fabric clung to every curve of her body and shimmered over her like water when she strode towards him. She’d left her hair to fall down over her shoulders, touching her waist. Orrick couldn’t speak, couldn’t take his eyes from her radiant smile as she raised her brow at him questionably.

         “Orrick? Are you alright,” she asked with a laugh.

         He cleared his throat and smiled, bowing his head as he offered her his arm. “You, my Juliet, are about to steal the night away from those young girls downstairs.”

         “Wonderful. I’ll be the latest piece of gossip for the next month,” she grimaced.

         “No, not for a month.” He turned to her, his grin widening as he said, “For the next year.”

* * *

         Connell stood near the main doors next to Tyranus as they greeted each Lady in turn and commented on their dress, their hair, anything and everything. After twenty Connell grew weary and his real smile melted into a fake one. Tyranus however couldn’t get enough attention, taking each Lady’s hand and kissing it thoroughly until the poor things blushed and headed farther into the banquet. Connell didn’t smell any wine on him yet, but it was only a manner of time before he started drinking.

         The last of the Ladies entered and Connell was free to mingle and find a glass of wine. Instead he found Blaire, flirting with several young women, telling them some story about saving Connell from a bear when they were younger.

         “Can I speak with you for a moment,” Connell said as he grabbed Blaire’s shirt and dragged him away. The Ladies laughed and Blaire reluctantly turned to face his Prince. “What are you doing?”

         “What, can’t your best friend have a wee bit of fun tonight, too?” He laughed when he saw the nervous look on Connell’s face and the way he shifted his feet. “Settle down, my Prince. You look as if you’re ready to bolt from the room.”

         “I can’t stand being looked at this way,” he muttered, plastering a smile on his face as two Ladies strolled by and curtsied to him before moving on. “I feel like livestock.”

         “You should,” Blaire said. He grimaced when Blaire shrugged, burying his face in his drink. “Just being honest, my Prince. The King and Queen want you to make a match. You are getting up in your years, you know.”

         “Twenty-five is not up in my years.”

         “It is for an unmarried Prince. Your parents want to leave behind a man stable with a Queen and an heir on the way, my Prince,” he lowered his voice glancing around to ensure Tyranus was nowhere near. “They do not want your brother coming to the throne.”

         Connell’s eyes narrowed as he found his brother across the room, surrounded by Ladies, telling some story or other. He already had wine in hand and was motioning for the nearest servant to refill his cup. It wasn’t just that he drank or went to brothels every other night. Tyranus was violent most days either with alcohol or not. He was the one who always killed first and asked questions later. The King and Queen were starting to lose their patience with cleaning up after his messes. He’d been reprimanded so many times that the next punishment on the list was banishment. It would kill their mother to do it, but if it was for the good of her Kingdom, she wouldn’t hesitate.

         And if the rumors were true, Tyranus had been having secret meetings with outsiders. Connell’s spies had yet to get close enough, but once they did he wasn’t sure he’d want to know what his brother had gotten dragged into.

         “How’s our guest doing,” Blaire asked on a lighter note.

         “According to Orrick she’s recovering well enough physically, but she’s still grieving. Still hasn’t told him anything useful, either.”

         “Is she attending tonight?”

         “I asked her to,” he said, “but from the frown I got in reply I doubt she’ll make an appearance. I sent Orrick up to keep an eye on her.”

         Blaire stared around the room and noticed Ladies watching the two, very impatient Ladies. “You might want to go mingle before you get attacked, my Prince. The crowd’s looking restless.”

         Connell’s shoulders sank for just a moment before he straightened and muttering curses waded into the see of skirts. He was reintroduced to several Ladies and listened intently as they described their lives. Most worked in small shops with their families or were true born and bred Ladies who did nothing all day but stroll through their gardens and tend to their sewing. Connell was grinding his teeth behind his smile and false interesting comments. This was how it always was. None of these Ladies fascinated him. None were exciting, did things out of the ordinary. They were beautiful, yes, many of them gorgeous to the point that he would like to find a quiet corner, but not ask for their hand in marriage.

         He felt nothing when he spoke to them. No tugging as he had for the woman in his dreams, for Juliet. It wasn’t love, no not that, but there was a connection that drew him to her, one he was unable to forget or withstand for very long. That was what he was looking for, but it wasn’t in this room. It was upstairs, locked away from the world…

         “Who is that,” Lady Anne, standing beside Connell whispered to another.

         “I haven’t seen her in the town,” Lady Clarissa huffed. “Wonder why she’s here?”

         “Where did she come from is more like it. Who’s that with her,” a third asked that Connell forgot the name.

         He turned to see who they were staring at and his heart fluttered in his chest. He’d been right about the color for Juliet’s dress. It brought out her eyes. Everyone in the hall began to whisper and mutter as they followed her with their eyes. Out of all the Ladies present, she was the only one with her hair down. She looked regal, like a Queen in her court instead of a peasant from an orchard. The fabric clung to her body in all the right places. Connell noticed with a smirk other Ladies automatically adjusting their hair or fiddling with their gowns, trying to appear as well as this new, mysterious woman did.

         Juliet held onto Orrick’s arm and he looked happier than Connell had seen him in a long time. There was a light in his eyes as they strode towards Connell, parting the crowd easily without a word. Lady Anne, Clarissa, and the third stood straighter as Juliet approached and curtsied before Connell. There was strain on her face, but not from physical pain. She turned her stare to the other Ladies and greeted them with all the courtly manners of a well-born Princess.

         “Ladies, my Prince, good evening to you all,” she said with a radiant smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

         “Evening, and who might you be,” Lady Anne asked none too gently taking in the fact that his new woman wore no jewels or adornments of any kind.

         “Juliet,” she replied simply. “I am currently a guest at the castle.”

         “Juliet, do you mean Lady Juliet,” Lady Clarissa said with a smirk. “Surely the King and Queen do not have peasants as guests in their home.”

         Juliet gritted her teeth and stepped closer to them both, her eyes narrowed. “No, just Juliet.”

         Connell opened his mouth to intervene, but Juliet caught his glance and winked. He clamped his mouth shut and waited to see what she’d do. Orrick had the same curious expression on his face and shrugged when Connell raised his brow in question.

         “Oh, I understand. You are being given charity by the Prince. How sweet of him and his family to take in the less fortunate and allow them to see what they will never have,” Lady Anne said staring levelly at Juliet. “Such a pity you peasant girls always look so homely.”

         Behind her Orrick tensed. Juliet was by far the most attractive woman present with no jewels and no makeup covering her face. This was natural beauty and he smiled to see how threatened these high born Ladies felt.

         Juliet smiled and bowed her head as if humbled and circled the Ladies. She reached out when no one was looking, behind both Lady Anne and Clarissa, to the sharp pins holding their hair. Quickly she pricked her finger tip on one and then the other before turning back to find Orrick stare at her curiously. That damn man was too watchful. She folded her hands calmly in front of her as she circled back in front and laughed lightly.

         “I may be homely, but Prince Connell I truly do not think you want either one of these women as your future wife.”

         Connell folded his arms across his chest. “And why is that?”

         She stared up at Lady Anne and said, “Well Lady Anne here is already screwing some Duke by the name of Maxwell? And she thinks she might be pregnant with his child, but is hoping to make it into your bed so she can claim it’s yours.”

         Orrick choked on a laugh as Lady Anne’s mouth dropped open and she uttered gasps of outrage, unable to find words.

         “And Lady Clarissa,” Juliet continued, “let’s just say she’s gone through two husbands in two years and well, one it appears died of mysterious causes. Yes, I wonder about that. Don’t you, my Prince?”

         Connell glared at both Ladies as they sputtered excuses and apologies before him about this horrible woman spouting lies in his presence.

“Why you insolent little witch,” Lady Anne screeched.

She turned to Juliet and before Orrick or Connell could step in between, she raised her hand and made to smack Juliet across the face. Her hand was stopped inches away by Juliet’s grasp on her wrist.

         She glared at the Lady fiercely, standing tall and seething with anger. “Do not touch me, my Lady, you will not like the consequence that comes from it.” She released her and took a step back to find the entire banquet hall quiet and watching her. She glanced at Connell who stared at her in shock and bowed her head. “My apologies, Prince Connell, for my behavior. I will leave at once.”

           She strode from the room, head held high and back ramrod straight as everyone backed away from her when she passed. Her red hair vanished through the doorway and immediately the whisperings began. Connell pushed between the Ladies still muttering about lies and rumors and grabbed Orrick by the arm, steering him away.

         “Stay with her. And tell her I am sorry for this,” Connell told the assassin tightly. “I did not think this would happen.”

         Orrick glanced around the room with a wry smile. “I don’t think anyone did, my Prince. She certainly is a ball of fire.”

         “Almost Queen-like,” he agreed. “I will come to her when this madness is over. We have many things to discuss.” First would be where she got her information. Connell shook his head as Orrick bowed and headed after Juliet. How did she possibly now that information? Was she a spy? Certainly not one of his, but his mother’s perhaps? She returned in three days, he would speak to her then and hope for some clarity on this Juliet.

* * *

         Orrick tracked Juliet down in the stables, speaking with the stable hands. Two horses were already saddled, Orrick’s and another for her. She turned when he called her name to see anger racing through her eyes.

         “I gave my time now hold up your end of the deal,” she said.

         He was about to argue when he saw her shaking hands around the horse’s reins. “Alright, let’s get going. It will take most of the night to get there and I am not going alone with just me to guard you.”

         “Fine, as long as we leave now.” She placed her foot in the stirrups and hoisted herself up. Orrick’s gaze followed the rips she’d made in her dress, exposing her leg from ankle to almost her hip. “See something you like,” she asked with a smile, her voice gone a bit rough.

         He raised his gaze to her. “Since the day I became your bodyguard,” he replied then swung up into the saddle and told the stable boy to pass a message to Orrick’s small band of men he controlled. They would catch up quickly enough. He led the way out of the stables with Juliet riding close beside him. They headed out of the courtyard, racing down the main road and let the darkness swallow them up.

* * *

         Juliet stared in disbelief at what remained of the cottage she and Flynn had shared or months. Now it was nothing more than a burnt out shell. Orrick and his men had dismounted and started towards the ruins. Juliet took a steadying breath then slid off her horse and followed them up to where the front door used to hang. It still lay where the attackers had kicked it in, burnt black and barely whole.

         “Be careful,” Orrick said helping her step over debris into the cottage. “The roof doesn’t look too stable.”

         “I’ll be quick.” She led the way carefully down the short hall and into one of the small bedrooms. The floor had burned, but not collapsed yet. She glanced over her shoulder to Orrick. “Help me pry up these boards.”

         It took a bit of digging with one of Orrick’s daggers to get the boards loose. He pulled up each one she indicated then stared down into the small cellar that had been dug out underneath the cottage. He called for a light as Juliet told him there should be two small trunks in there, one extremely heavy. It took Orrick and another of his men to lift that one out and let it thud down on the floor.

         “What’s in these,” Orrick asked climbing out of the hole.

         Juliet ran her hands over the leather and smiled. Flynn had sewn most of his fortune into the lining of his cloak and other items and he’d also managed to grab several small pouches of Bastien’s personal stash several days before their escape. They’d spent very little of the money, using only what they needed for food and to buy this small cottage. The rest held writings, visions he’d recorded of hers, trying to piece together the future for them both and her child.

         A tear slid unbidden down Juliet’s cheek and Orrick reached forward and gently wiped it away with his thumb.

“Milady?”

         “I’m alright,” she whispered smiling at his kindness. “Just brings back memories. What remains of my fortune and my life are in these trunks.” She went to open one then glanced around at Orrick’s men. “Do you trust your men, Orrick?”

         The men grinned at her question, but Orrick just laughed. “They are truly my men. We’ve been through enough and I’ve tested their resolve.”

         “Three times already,” one with blonde hair and a scar stretching across his throat said then swore. “You’d think the man would let it rest by now.”

         Juliet nodded then clicked open the first trunk and flipped back the lid. The men muttered curses as they stared down at the small fortune in the trunk. Gems and coins filled it to the brim. They’d made a bit of money off the land and selling their richer clothing when they’d first arrived. It was enough for them to one day buy a bigger place and perhaps bribe a King to fight their battle, but none of that was possible now.

         “Are you a thief,” Orrick asked as he stared at her curiously.

         She laughed and closed the lid. “Hardly. That is mine by rights.”

          “And the other?”

         “Personal possessions that I cannot bear to leave behind.” She stood and let the men carry the trunks to the horses, muttering about how they’d have to divide the first between their horses. “Thank you,” she said laying a hand on Orrick’s arm. “I don’t think I could have stayed there much longer.”

         “We have to go back,” he told her quietly. “But first, I have some questions.”

         She tried to pull away, but he took her hand and held her against him.

         “How did you know about those two Ladies?”

         “I hear rumors as does everyone else-”

         “No you don’t because you’re not from around here.” He sighed when she stared blankly up at him. “Juliet, please. I am trained to notice everything. You think I wouldn’t figure out that you’re not from here?”

         “I told you we never lived near the capital.”

         “No,” he argued. “You’re not from Anoran, never have been. Why can’t you tell me the truth?”

         “You of all people should know how dangerous the truth can be,” she whispered. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word. He stared down at her and waited, unwavering for an answer. “Sometimes, I see things that others don’t,” she reluctantly said in a rush.

         Orrick let her pull away, turning her back to him. Her words repeated in his mind over and over until he realized what she was saying. “You’re one of the blessed seers.”

         “I wouldn’t call it a blessing,” she spat whirling around. “Not anymore. Hasn’t done me any good if you can’t tell,” she said motioning to the burnt out cottage. “You cannot tell a soul, Orrick. Swear to me you will not.”

         He paced the room going back to the night of the attack. She’d tried to run and those men, they had been after her. He spun back to her. “Those men, they wanted you for the seer trade, didn’t they?”

         Juliet nodded quickly following along. “They’d been after us for months. We thought we’d lost them, but we were wrong. Orrick,” she pleaded grabbing his hand, “please you cannot tell the Prince. Not yet. If they find out where I am, they will send more men. I cannot risk it.”

         As he promised he wouldn’t, he saw more in her eyes. She wasn’t telling him everything, but now that he knew she was a seer, she was in even more danger. He wouldn’t let her leave his sight. The underground seer trade was becoming a problem in Anoran, spreading from the other Kingdoms. They couldn’t track the sellers or find the markets, but the King had enough reports of young women and men being stolen from their homes to know that it was starting.

         “I still have questions for you,” Orrick said as they made their way back to the horses.

         Juliet sighed shaking her head. “This is one of those times it’d be best if you left well enough alone. I told you what I am, what more do you need?”

         He remained silent as she climbed up into the saddle and turned her horse towards the road waiting. He needed to know who she really was. A peasant girl, even a young noble woman would not have her mannerisms. She was more than just a seer and Orrick was going to find out what soon. He strode over to the blonde man, Liam, and pulled him aside.

         “I have a job for you to do and I need you to leave the moment we return,” Orrick said, peering over Liam’s shoulder, watching Juliet.

         “Aye and what might that be?”

         “A wild goose chase. I need you to travel, start in the north, and see if you can find any information on a noble woman by the name of Juliet.”

         “That’s not a lot to go on there, chief,” Liam muttered. “But I always did enjoy a challenge.”

         Orrick smiled, slapping him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit, but remember, you don’t know her, or her whereabouts. Understood?”

         “Of course, I’m mum on that.”

         Orrick nodded and they headed to their horses. It would take until late morning to arrive back at the castle. Hopefully the Prince would still be asleep. Orrick really wasn’t in the mood to hear a lecture and he certainly wasn’t going to let Juliet deal with Connell. He might be the kinder of the two Princes, but if his orders were not followed he tended to be a bit brusque. That woman had been through enough for one night.

         “Ready,” she asked as his horse rode up next to hers. She didn’t smile, but her eyes did it for her as she stared at him.

         He motioned for her to ride ahead and she kicked her horse into a gallop leaving the others to catch up.

* * *

         Connell paced the front hall furious. Blaire was sprawled in a chair at his side, watching his Prince and forcing himself to stay awake. They had almost made it to bed after seeing all the Ladies safely back to their carriages and bidding them farewell. Connell had given small tokens to the few he wished to see again, women that showed a bit more humility than the Lady Anne or Clarissa. Blaire and he had walked up the stairs, deciding to check on Juliet and ensure she was not too bitter about the evening, but there’d been no answer. The Prince had gone in search of Orrick to be told that he and his men had headed out shortly after the incident at the banquet with a woman in tow.

         That was several hours ago and now the sun had risen to find the Prince scowling as he glared out into the courtyard, waiting for any sign of a rider.

         “You should just go to bed, my Prince,” Blaire suggested for the fifth time, stifling a yawn. “If she’s with Orrick then she’s perfectly safe-”

         “I told him she was not to leave this castle,” Connell stormed over his words. “I told him she was in danger and that here was the safest place for her.”

         “With your brother already stalking her, oh yes very safe indeed,” he muttered earning a glare from Connell. “What,” he shrugged, “it’s the truth. Once your brother sees something he wants he does nothing, but try to dig his claws in deeper.”

          “Can we not discuss my brother right now? I had to send two guards to track him down after just three hours.”

Just one more incident to explain to his father when he returned. Tyranus had started drinking heavily and wound up with whom else but Lady Anne out in the gardens. At least if she turned up at the castle in a month saying she was pregnant with Tyranus’ child, Connell would know she lied. If Juliet was right. He’d wanted to speak to her about what she’d said, but then she’d up and disappeared with Orrick. A pang of jealousy twisted his middle, but he ignored it with a shake of his head. Didn’t matter that they were off together, didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t as if he wanted Juliet.

“Just think. Everyone will be talking about this banquet for weeks.”

“Not helping, Blaire.”

“Apologies. Perhaps if your Grace would be so kind as to let me totter off to bed…”

“No,” he said sharply. “You may need to restrain me.”

“There’s really no need to get upset, Connell,” Blaire said quietly as he went to his friend’s side. “Please, just let it go and get some sleep. When you wake they’ll be back and have a perfectly good explanation as to why they left.”

“There’s no explanation for disobeying my orders.” His head jerked up when he heard a commotion out in the courtyard. Horses galloped over the stones and his scowl returned. “It’s about time,” he growled then strode down the front steps veering left heading for the stables.

“Blaire, why do you let yourself get dragged into these situations,” Blaire muttered to himself as he followed behind Connell. “Should have just gone to bed early, that’s what I should have done. Damn.” He could hear the yelling all the way out in the middle of the courtyard. “This is going to be a great morning.”

By the time he rounded the corner, two stable hands were walking quickly in the opposite direction, horses behind them headed for the pastures. Connell and Orrick were toe to toe as the Prince yelled. Juliet stood off to the side, arms crossed tightly over her chest and eyes narrowed. It didn’t take a genius to see that she was about to erupt and put both men to shame with her anger.

“You deliberately disobeyed my orders, Orrick! Where the hell have you two been?”

Orrick didn’t answer, didn’t flinch under Connell’s sharp glare. He glanced back at Juliet and she nodded slightly. “We went back to the cottage to fetch what we could of Juliet’s belongings, as she requested.”

“Requested of whom?”

“Me, my Prince. You were busy with the banquet. She did not wish to pull you away from your guests.”

Connell opened his mouth to argue when he finally took in Juliet’s appearance and saw the tears up the side of the gown. “Were you attacked? What happened, Orrick?”

“We weren’t attacked, your Grace-”

“Did you do that?” Connell’s nostrils flared in anger as he stepped closer to Orrick, that jealous pang coming back full force.

“You insolent bastard of a Prince,” Juliet said, pushing between the two men then shoving Connell hard in the chest until he stumbled back a step. “How dare you suggest such a thing! After everything I’ve been through you honestly think that is the first thing on my mind!”

Everyone stared in stunned silence. Very few people raised their voice to the Prince, very few, least of all a woman with no true standing. Connell’s mouth gaped open a few times at a loss for words.

“I just lost my home, my friend and my unborn child! I do not need to deal with a man who rushes to conclusions without asking!” She began to walk past him then turned on her heel and marched back until she was in front of him, glaring. “And for the record, your trusted friend Orrick has treated me with nothing but gentleness and kindness since I arrived. He was doing me a favor.”

“But your dress,” Connell finally muttered until Juliet cut him off.

“I did it. Hard to ride a horse when you’re wearing a floor length gown,” she shot back.

The Prince stared at her curiously. “You should have changed-”

“Let me refresh your memory,” she snapped. “I was attacked by one of your well born Ladies and wasn’t exactly in the mood to go change into my riding clothes…oh wait, I don’t have any because they were lost in the fire, you blithering idiot!”

She stormed away muttering under her breath. The men watched in silence until she disappeared around the corner then turned to stare at their Prince. His face was blank. He didn’t know what to think. No one besides his parents had ever scolded him like, like a child. But Juliet, she just let him have it despite him being Prince.

“Well,” Blaire said breaking the silence, “now that everyone’s back I say we all get some sleep.”

Orrick quietly told his men to take Juliet’s personal items to her rooms then turn in. He winked at Liam and the man bowed his head. He would be heading for the north in a few hours to see if he could track down anything about their mysterious Juliet. Orrick told Blaire to go ahead inside. He glanced between the Prince and the assassin and smiled, stifling another yawn then disappeared with the rest.

“Connell,” Orrick said, addressing him as his friend now they were alone. “I cannot apologize for disobeying you.”

“And why not, my friend? I only did it to keep her safe.”

“She was going stir crazy if you hadn’t noticed and being around that many people so soon after what she’s been through? She needed to go back, gain some closure.”

He sat down heavily on a hay bale and grinned at his friend. “You always notice more than I do.”

“It’s my job, remember? She was never in any danger. However you might be if you don’t apologize soon.”

Connell laughed bitterly. “I was a bit of a fool. She yelled at me, Orrick, actually yelled at me. No one else has the nerve to do it, but she did.” He stared at his friend. “I can’t stand to lose someone like that.”

“Then apologize and beg her to stay,” Orrick told him honestly.

“Have you found out any new information on her? How she knew about those ladies last night?”

“I’m working on several theories, but she keeps her secrets well.” He didn’t tell Connell she was a seer. It was up to her to tell him that, but he did mention the small fortune she’d had hiding under the cottage.

“Think she’s a thief,” the Prince asked seriously, wondering if he was harboring a criminal in the castle walls.

Orrick chuckled. “I don’t believe she has it in her. Once I know anything solid, I will tell you,” he promised. “Now go, apologize to her before she stews any longer in her anger.”

Connell stood and together they headed for the castle. “That woman does have a way with words, does she not?”

“That she does, my Prince, that she does,” Orrick whispered, a smile spreading across his lips. She had a way with words and the way her eyes shown when she laughed. How she made him shiver with want every time they touched. Things were going to get very complicated very soon, especially if she was who Orrick was beginning to think she was. Very complicated indeed.

































5

         The King’s men ran through the list of never ending problems that always came with running a Kingdom. Most had to deal with people fighting against their new King and the rumors about their missing Queen Juliet. Many chanted her name in the streets outside the castle walls, loud enough to drive Bastien to the brink of insanity. He had underestimated their loyalty to her.

         He smiled as the men informed him that just this morning they’d caught three of the townspeople doing it and hung them. Perhaps now they’d keep quiet.

         One of his men announced that the new merchandise for market had been rounded up and was awaiting his inspection before they went about that business. Juliet had been harboring hundreds of seers throughout Brolach and Bastien was going to get every last one. He’d be rich, richer than he’d ever hoped before. Then he’d put the rest of his plan in motion and finish what he started so many years ago. But he still needed Juliet.

         “Where is Douglas,” he cut in glancing around at his men. “He should have returned by now. Where is he?”

         “Sorry, my King, but he has yet to return,” Maxwell, a Duke and one of Juliet’s old advisors, said quietly. “We haven’t received word from him at all.”

         Bastien’s gray eyes turned cold as he glared at Maxwell. “Then I suggest you do something about it instead of sitting on your pompous ass all day long. Find them.”

         “Yes, yes, my Lord, as you wish,” Maxwell muttered in a rush, bowing his head.

         “If I may, your Grace,” another man, Wallace, spoke up. “I don’t think Maxwell’s men would find anything.”

         “Explain,” Bastien snapped.

         “One of the seers we brought in had a vision when she passed through the gates to the castle.”

         “And I need to hear this, why?”

         “Well, your Grace, she didn’t say much, but what she did makes more sense now…” he licked his lips nervously as Bastien glared. “She said something about her man has been killed and her cottage burned, but she will live on…under…under the protection of something. I’m sorry, your Grace, I can’t recall the rest.”

         Bastien just stared at him and tapped his fingers on the table. Over and over. It was the only sound in the room.

         Wallace cleared his throat. “It could have absolutely nothing to do with Juliet, your Grace. I’m certain it’s nothing-”

         Bastien didn’t make a sound as he drew his dagger and lunged across the table. He embedded the blade in Wallace’s neck then sat back in his chair fuming as the man struggled. He scrabbled at the dagger, but couldn’t get his fingers to pull the blade out. In seconds the man was dead, sitting slouched in his seat, his blood covering the table, the floor and the one man seated beside him.

         The men turned to stare at the crazed King at the head of the table, wiping blood from his hands with a handkerchief. They had helped him become their King, helped him drive out the weak Juliet, too worried about protecting her seers to see the true profits she held under her grip. One by one they smiled at each other and their new King. By the end of the month they’d all be rich, with enough money to start the war Bastien promised would bring them all to power.

         Bastien snapped his fingers at the two guards standing by the door. “Remove his body and send someone to clean up the blood.” As the guards moved to do his bidding, he glared at the men seated before him and spoke, his words like ice. “The next time one of our precious pieces of merchandise says anything, anything at all, I am to be told immediately. Is that understood, gentlemen?”

         They all bowed their heads to his command.

         “Our greatest profit lies within Queen Juliet. I want her found and brought back to me, alive and unharmed…for the most part,” he added with a sneer. “Find her. Search everywhere. I don’t care whose protection she’s under. I want her back where she belongs.”

         Once again they bowed their heads and he motioned for them to leave. Once the room cleared Bastien got to his feet, grinning at the blood still dripping from the table. A guard opened a side door that led straight into his chambers and he disappeared inside where another guard was already waiting with a young woman tied to a chair before him. Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing as Bastien told the guard to watch the door.

         “You’re a pretty young thing aren’t you?” He reached out a hand and the woman jerked back, trying to get away, but the ropes held her tight. “Frightened of me?”

         “We know who you are,” she spat. “I will not tell you anything of what I see.”

         “My dear sweet seer,” Bastien said with a laugh as he bent down and whispered in her ear, “I want to do the seeing from now on.”

         She pulled away with a gasp. “But you cannot! You have been reborn, you no longer have those powers!”

         “I have found a way to regain them, slowly. Pity for you. You are indeed beautiful.”

         “I won’t let you,” she struggled to say, but fear was overtaking her body. She grew numb as he turned from her and went to a table to grab a dagger. When he turned back around her eyes widened. “You found it? Impossible!”

         Bastien laughed, running his fingers along the sharp edge of the bone dagger, created from the rib of the very first seer he’d ever found. One who had the ability to take on the strengths of others for a time, as did her precious daughter…so many memories. He had forged it in his hate, twisted its purpose with the dark magic of his sorcery and had used it for years before it was stolen from him and he perished in the process.

         But now he’d returned, they both had, to finish what was started so many years ago.

         He stalked towards the seer and pressed the tip of the dagger against her forearm, held palm up by the rope. Ignoring the seer’s protests, he ran the tip down her flesh and sliced it open. She didn’t scream until he dug the tip into the middle of the wound and watched the blade begin to glow a poisonous green. She screamed as she felt her sight being ripped away from her soul.

         Her voice was cut off and she stared, gasping for breath as a ghostly image of herself rose from the wound, eyes glowing with the power of her sight. She shook her head sadly as she watched it get sucked into the dagger. The glow faded and the seer would have fallen out of her chair if not for the ropes. Shaking with exhaustion, she lifted her head to watch Bastien slice open his own arm next and place the tip of the dagger into the wound.

         The blade began to glow again, but this time it started at the base of the hilt and traveled down until it hit Bastien’s wound. She watched her sight be absorbed into his body. He closed his eyes, shuddering as the new power raced through his blood, became a part of him.

         “You’re a monster,” she whispered. “She will find you and kill you like she did before-”

         He shook the tip of the dagger at her, tsking. “Remember though, she died as well and now look where we are.” He closed his eyes for a moment and smiled. “Ah, so that was your specialty was it? Interesting.”

         The seer stared at him confused until a high pitch scream echoed around her skull. She winced and moaned in agony, as it grew louder and louder. Her gift, he was using it against her. She fought to control it, to command it, but it was no longer hers. Tears streamed down her cheeks as it grew louder and louder, ‘til blood flowed from her ears and nose.

         “How does it feel, seer, to be powerless now,” Bastien growled as he crouched in front of her, looking up into her eyes. He relished in her pain until she finally screamed, unable to hold back. Bastien cackled then took her head in his hands and twisted. Her screaming stopped instantly and she hung limp in her chair.

         He sniffed disgusted at the dead body then carried the dagger back to its place. He set it carefully back on the stand, its tip clean of blood as if nothing had happened.

         “Dispose of that,” he told the guard as his fingers lingered over the bone, feeling the smoothness of its edges, still in perfect condition after being hidden away. Selling seers was only half his plan. He’d discovered this secret too late the last time. He’d been weak, unable to fight with just sorcery against such ingrained power as the power seers gained from their sight. This time he was ahead, already stealing strength from five lovely seers. He would be ready when she came to him now, ready to make her bend to his will and fall to her knees before him.

         “Soon, Juliet, you will be mine.”

* * *

         It had been almost a week since Juliet and Orrick’s trip back to the cottage and a week since Juliet had exchanged any words with Connell. She was still reeling at his crazed attitude and the fact that she had lost three people she’d deeply cared about in so little time. It still bothered her that she’d seen none of it. No hints that things were going downhill, no glimpse of a future without a child, without her King.

         The only thing she’d seen had come too late. Now that she had time to herself, well almost to herself, Orrick remained in the room with her most days, she was able to focus once more on those images. When she’d touched Bastien’s hand for the last time, she’d seen it all. Felt the impact of a past life she didn’t even know she’d been tied to until she saw his. Now she was not only haunted by visions of her impending death, but those of the past. Images of Bastien killing and mutilating, of capturing and torturing seers. That was all she dreamed, over and over again.

         It was what hit her again while she slept fitfully, Orrick resting in the chair by the hearth. He worried for her as she tossed back and forth, moaning like an animal as she slept on. She’d hardly eaten since they’d returned and she had yet to tell Connell of who she was. He hadn’t heard from Liam yet either, but had a feeling his man was soon to figure out the riddle of the woman Juliet. He’d watched her closely, but never saw her fall into a vision. He didn’t even understand how she got them.

         Her sharp cry of pain jolted him from his musings and he rushed to her bedside. Her eyes were shut tight as she thrashed away from him and tangled her legs in the sheet.

         “Juliet, wake up,” he said trying to pin her shoulders to the bed before she hurt herself. “You’re dreaming, wake up.”

         She twisted away from him and nearly fell off the bed, but he caught her, holding her against his chest as she shook her head over and over. Then she screamed and her whole body went rigid as if she’d been stabbed. Orrick stared down at her face, eyes wide with fear and watched as slowly her body slumped against his. Her eyes opened and she stared around wildly, starting to push away from him until he called her name a few times.

         “You’re safe, you’re with me, Juliet,” he soothed as he held her. “You’re safe.”

         She clung to his arms and shuddered. “It was real, they’re always so real,” she whispered and buried her face against his chest.

         “Were you having a vision?”

         “No, nightmare, but it’s always the same.”

         “Want to talk about it?” When she finally nodded, he picked her up and carried her to a chair by the fire before sitting down beside her. His hand held hers the entire time. A warm comfort that Juliet was quickly becoming accustomed to. “What happens?”

         She glared into the smoldering flames and tilted her head in thought. “I see my dead husband…killed by a man we both trusted. The images fly by so quickly, I hardly catch them. But I can feel fear, so much fear.”

She shivered as if cold and Orrick grabbed a quilt from the bed and draped it over her shoulders. He waited for her to continue, but he could tell she was starting to recede back into her thoughts.

“Juliet, please, if you don’t speak of it, it will continue to haunt you.”

“Speaking of it aloud is what makes it real,” she replied quietly. The bitter tone to her words made Orrick sit back, surprised at the darkness seeping into her gaze. “I could sit here all night and tell you of the horrors I’ve seen in the past year alone and it would shock you to your very core.”

“I have been around violence a long time,” he assured her until she whispered to him.

“Have you ever seen your own death? Replayed over and over in your visions, your nightmares?” She watched his body tense at the thought of her dead, but her rage was stronger. “I did not see my husband fall, nor the attack at the cottage and yet I see my death like it’s nothing more than a memory.”

She pulled her hand from Orrick’s roughly as she stood and gripped the quilt tight about her shoulders. She strode to the window and leaned on the ledge to stare out into nothingness. If only she could see that at night instead of her dreams. She had no word from the north, no news of what was happening to her people. Her one contact had disappeared from the map a month before Flynn and she had been attacked.

Just another death to add to the list because of her.

Juliet was truly alone. Connell was nothing more than a spoiled Prince. How could she possibly trust him with the truth she was burdened with? But what of Orrick?

She heard him stand and watched his reflection approach in the window. The power she felt between them grew the closer he came to her. It was starting to become addicting. He already knew she was a seer, why not tell him just a little more? Why not test him to see who he really was to her?

“Take out your dagger,” she said and turned to face him.

“What? Why?”

“Just do it, please. It will help me I promise.”

Slowly, he drew his dagger and held it out to her. She gripped his hand instead with it and titled it until the point was against her fingertip.

“Juliet, what are you doing,” he said trying to pull back, but she held him there with a stare.

“I know you’re curious about I receive visions. Consider yourself privileged,” she muttered before she pressed the tip into her flesh.

She didn’t even make a sound at the sharp twinge of pain. Orrick pulled the dagger back and held her hand, ready to put pressure on the wound.

“No, let the blood well…let it bleed…” the room grew hazy and she felt her legs go weak.

One moment she was staring at Orrick’s worried face as he reached out to catch her and the next…she was staring in Orrick’s face.

“What happened,” she whispered, confused. Did it not work? Were her visions gone?

“I told you the physician said to stay off your feet, just don’t listen, do you,” he scowled then scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

Juliet’s brow furrowed at his words as she glanced around the room. It was the same, everything looked the same. Something sniffed her feet at the end of the bed and she sat up to find two large, magnificent Great Danes staring at her with worried eyes.

“See? Even the dogs know you’re not supposed to be up,” Orrick continued.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she said suddenly just a visitor in her own body. “I can’t seem to help myself.”

“It’s not just you anymore.” He rested a gentle hand over her stomach and smiled proudly.

Her hand covered his and she sat up to kiss him. “I know, I know. I won’t do so much I promise.”

“And not so many visions, alright? They make you the weakest and I don’t know what it’s doing to our baby.”

“I’m of no help if I cannot see the future, Orrick,” she muttered annoyed.

“Ah, but you are my Queen. Your very presence has helped if you didn’t notice. It has Tyranus hiding away like a hurt puppy every time you’re at court.”

“He’s scared of me,” she mused, “I don’t know why yet.”

He said something, but Juliet couldn’t hear. The room disappeared in a blink and when her eyes opened she was in Orrick’s arms, sitting on the floor. He was holding her, brushing hair from her face, panic in his eyes.

“Juliet? Can you hear me?”

She nodded stiffly and tried to sit up. Orrick helped her and placed his warm hands on her shoulders.

“Are you alright?”

“Never better,” she said quietly thinking back on what she’d seen. It was incredibly powerful, able to stay with her this long after the vision was over. “Mind helping me stand?”

“Why don’t you take it easy for a minute?”

“Trust me, Orrick,” she said grasping his hand tightly, “this was nothing.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing as he pulled her slowly to her feet and followed her closely as she went back to her usual perch by the windows. Orrick leaned against the wall, crossed his arms across his chest and watched her carefully. There was something about her that was different. She was standing taller, holding her entire body differently. Since the time they had brought her to the capital she’d been the grieving woman, weakened from so much loss, but now it was as if that woman never existed.

“I’m sure you have questions, Orrick,” she said with a smile, “so why don’t you ask them.”

“I do not wish to pry into the secrets of a seer.”

“Something tells me that you will find out anyway, so why not just know now,” she argued.

For a moment he said nothing then he gently picked up the hand with the pricked finger and stared at it. “The blood, that’s what triggers visions for you?”

She glanced down at the tiny wound on her fingertip and ran another over it. The flesh was sore, but it would heal in a day or two. “In a sense, yes.”

“Anyone’s blood?”

“Sadly no. It has to be mine, otherwise it’s just blood,” she said.

“And someone else has to draw it? I don’t understand-”

“If I am to receive a vision of myself, past or future, I must draw my own blood, but” she said holding up her stabbed finger, “if I wish to see someone else’s past or future then they must draw the blood. It’s how it’s always worked.”

Orrick frowned as he digested this very interesting and dangerous information. If the wrong person were to learn of it, Juliet would be in serious trouble. He stared at her and she simply nodded her understanding. She was already in that trouble.

“Why are you telling me this, you hardly know me well enough!”

She smiled holding up her finger again. “Don’t worry, Orrick, you won’t betray me.”

“What did you see?”

“You will find out when the time comes, no sooner. People who know their futures,” she said the moment he opened his mouth to argue, “tend to screw them up in trying to make them become reality. Let it go.”

He smiled and bowed his head. “As you wish, milady.”

Juliet flinched at the movement and he stared at her curiously. He didn’t know yet, he couldn’t. She hadn’t told him and no one else would even attempt to risk going up north. She’d picked up rumors from the servants and courtiers that the new King was causing turmoil throughout the lands and his people were on the brink of an uproar.

“The sun will be up soon,” Orrick said changing the subject. “May I escort you down for breakfast?”

“Might as well. Not as if I can fall back asleep now.” She took the arm he offered and they headed downstairs towards the dining room.

* * *

         Connell followed the sounds of roaring laughter into the dining room. The sun had only risen a few moments ago and yet the hall was filled with servants and courtiers alike. The laughter echoed around the room and everyone surrounded one table. Connell approached slowly, straining to see who sat in the midst when one courtier turned and spotted him.

         “Good morning, Prince Connell,” he said loudly, sweeping a low bow.

         One by one, courtiers and servants turned to bow and pay their morning respects. The room fell silent and the men and women parted as Connell made his way towards the table in the center of it all. Orrick and Juliet sat beside one another, still laughing quietly at whatever had been said. Connell stopped and stared at them both with a raised brow until Orrick finally opened his eyes wide enough to see him.

         “Ah! Good morning Prince Connell,” he said standing and bowing his head. “Pleasure to see you up and about on this glorious day.”

         “And what might I ask is so glorious about it?”

         “The sun has risen for one,” Orrick said lightly, “and I have already had a good laugh and it’s not even noon yet.”

         He stared at him skeptically. “Who is the cause of all this joy so early?”

         “Why, the Lady Juliet, my Prince,” another courtier chimed in with a smile. “She is quite good at reading people.”

         “Is she now?” He turned his gaze towards her and caught himself before he flinched. Her eyes were filled with anger directed solely at him.

         “I am. I could read you, too if you like…Prince Connell,” she said, but not bowing her head.

         Connell gritted his teeth and forced a smile. “That is not necessary. I would like to inform you, however, that the King and Queen will be returning this day from progress. I expect you to meet with them and explain your case. Perhaps they will be able to shed more light on the matter.”

         He saw her bristle at his words and she tilted her head and said lightly, “Expect me too, my Prince? And if I should feel disinclined to share my case with them?”

         Connell straightened and the courtiers slowly backed away from their Prince as they felt his anger grow. “You will do as I command of you, Lady Juliet, as you are currently a guest residing on my hospitality. You will meet with the King and Queen when you are summoned to do so. It is not up for discussion.”

         He turned on his heel and stormed from the room before he could listen to her argue. Mutters and whispers followed him out, but he ignored them. That damn woman was getting on his last nerve. She would learn to respect him as her Prince or he would throw her back out onto the streets. He offered her everything and she practically spat in his face.

         Back at the table, Orrick was resting a hand on Juliet’s shoulder to keep her in her chair. She had cursed Connell quietly the moment his back was turned and had risen as if to follow him, but Orrick halted her.

         “He has a temper. You have to learn to get around it,” he told her as the courtiers and servants dispersed.

         “He needs to learn his place,” she whispered harshly. “And he better do it soon.” She made to stand and after she promised not to chase Connell, Orrick let her rise and watched her storm from the room, her last words ringing in his ears.

































6

         Orrick left Juliet alone that afternoon, retreating instead to his quarters. He sat for hours, staring out the window wondering who this woman was. The answer was so close, he just needed that one last bit and it would all fall into place. He let his hand fall repeatedly on the arm of his chair, an unsteady thump rhythm echoing around him.

         What kind of woman lives in a secluded cabin with a protector and a trunk full of jewels and stashed coin? Who’s in hiding from men, who would with no qualm, burn down her home? Stab her while she’s pregnant? What kind of woman deserves such horrid treatment?

         Not to mention a woman who said that the royal Prince needed to be put in his place. That was outrageous for a regular peasant woman to say, even one of high birth. Unless…

         Unless she was royalty? Orrick sat up straighter thinking back over every little detail he’d mentally locked away for Juliet. Her mannerisms, her speech…it couldn’t possibly mean-

         “Orrick, sir, are you in there? I have a message from Sir Liam?”

         Orrick called for the lad to enter and rose from his chair to greet him. “When was this delivered? Where’s Liam?”

         The boy shrugged. “I’m not certain, but I believe he stayed behind.”

         “Alright then, off with you,” Orrick said and waved the boy out, closing the door behind him.

         He untied the string holding the letter together to find multiple pages. He started reading the first and was halfway down the page before he cursed in disbelief. He dropped the message and shuffled through the papers until he found one with Juliet’s face sketched onto it, reward listed underneath for capture of this murdering Queen.

         “Queen? She’s the Queen Seer of the Northern Provinces?”  He stared at the face unable to deny the truth. Did she murder her husband? He would have to confront her now…but the King and Queen were going to meet her this afternoon. Orrick cursed again, and grabbing the papers up in a messy ball, ran from his room.

* * *

         Juliet left her room a few moments after the servant announced the King and Queen had returned and awaited her presence in the throne room. She had donned one of the more simple gowns from the wardrobe. Appearing like a queen was not her plan, yet. She had to meet these monarchs, see their faces. If they were anything like their sons, she would have to make a plan to move on to another Kingdom away from watchful eyes. She had heard of this particular King and Queen for their kind hand and well off people, but had never met them in her short time as Queen in the north.

         





















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































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