Chapter 11
ELAINA
Mirabella is placid to the point of sleepiness as the groom leads her to the mounting block so I can get astride her back.
I’m meant to be riding side-saddle—all the proper ladies in Court do.
I tried to copy them when I first came to the Citadel but I kept slipping off.
Besides, it’s so uncomfortable. I finally gave in and asked for a “man’s saddle” which the grooms grudgingly provided.
“So, my Lady—I hear you got quite an eyeful here the other day.”
“Excuse me?” I look down from my horse’s back to see the groom is talking to me. He’s a pale, thin man with dirty blonde hair. I think his name is “Grims.”
“I heard-tell you seen something you didn’t ought to have seen,” he says, giving me a twisted smile that doesn’t reach his watery eyes.
“I…don’t know what you mean.” I wish he would let go of Mirabella’s reigns.
He’s making me uncomfortable. I keep thinking of Tanzy’s story about the hapless milkmaid.
I can’t help noticing we’re the only two people around, despite the size of the stable and its numerous staff. Where is everyone else?
“Oh, I think you know what I mean, my Lady.” Grims winks knowingly. “And I got a message for you—don’t go blabbing or there’s going to be trouble.”
“I don’t kn—” I begin but then he slaps Mirabella on the rump—hard—and lets loose of the reigns.
My normally calm and quiet mount suddenly goes crazy.
Bucking and snorting, she takes off at dead gallop—a pace I’ve never tried before.
I give a breathless scream and grab onto her mane.
I have no hope of controlling her because the reigns are flapping free and I can’t reach them.
Thank goodness I have my feet in the stirrups—it’s the only thing keeping me in the saddle.
“Whoa! Whoa, girl!” I shout, but it’s no use—Mirabella is acting like a possessed creature, careening through the Royal paddock and into the riding lane beyond and I’m apparently just along for the ride.
Then I see it from the corner of my eye…a black stallion on the far side of the lanes. The figure sitting on it is tall with impossibly broad shoulders—I know who it must be. But my brain barely registers the fact because I’m too busy hanging on for dear life and trying not to get bucked off.
The stallion turns and gallops towards me, jumping gracefully over the high fences separating the lanes. The next minute, Xaren is riding right alongside me. He holds the reigns of his own mount in one hand and reaches with one long arm to catch the dangling reigns of mine.
“Whoa!” he shouts and there’s a tone of command in his voice that’s impossible to ignore.
I see Mirabella’s ears—which have been laid flat back against her skull—twitch.
Then, as Xaren pulls on her reigns, she comes to a shivering, stumbling stop.
His stallion, Death, pulls up with a snort beside her.
Xaren’s out of his saddle in an instant and pulling me out of mine.
I fall into his arms and wrap my arms around his neck.
I forget how scary he was last night—right now he seems like the only safe thing to cling to.
I bury my face in his cloud of midnight hair and try to breathe.
I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel him rubbing my back and murmuring,
“There, there, little dove—it’s all right. You’re all right now. It’s over.”
I’m making a fool of myself and I know it, but I can’t let go of him—not yet. I cling to him a little while longer and Xaren supports my weight easily. He doesn’t seem in any hurry to push me away. He just keeps soothing me.
At last, calmed by his deep voice in my ear and his warm, spicy scent, my heart stops racing.
“I…I’m sorry.” I say at last, pulling back and swiping at my eyes. “It’s just…I’m not a very good rider and I was sure I was g-going to be th-thrown.” I give a little hiccupping half-sob and try to get control of myself.
“No reason to be sorry,” Xaren says soothingly. “Being on a runaway horse is a damn frightening experience—even for an experienced rider. Which you’re not.”
“No, I’m not,” I agree. I find a handkerchief in the pocket of my riding habit and use it to blot my stinging eyes. “Mirabella is usually so docile, though. But when the groom slapped her—”
“What groom?” he interrupts me, his eyes narrowing. “Did one of those bastards try something with you?” Through his hair, I see the golden Drake eye gleaming. “I’ll fucking kill them if they touched you!”
“No, no—it was nothing like that!” I hasten to assure him. “It’s just…the groom that helped me get mounted, he said the strangest things. And then he slapped Mirabella on the rump and sent her flying without giving me the reigns first!”
Speaking of Mirabella, she’s still trembling all over, snorting and pawing the ground. She looks ready to start bucking or running again at any moment.
“She’s acting like something is biting her!” I say, pointing.
Xaren lets go of me completely—I’m rather sorry about that—and goes to see to my mount. He strokes her cheek and murmurs to her, just as he murmured to me. When she calms down some, he looks her over. After a moment, he shifts her saddle and frowns as he plucks something from her dappled gray coat.
“What is it? What did you find?” I ask, daring to approach the two of them.
“Burrs.” Xaren holds out his hand. In the flat of his large palm, I see several round burrs with long, sharp thorns growing out of them.
I stare at them. No wonder Mirabella went mad!
I would have too with those things digging into my back.
The groom must have placed them and then slapped her to get her going, knowing they’d dig into her even more with my weight riding up and down on her back.
The faster she went, the more it must have hurt.
Poor Mirabella—none of this was her fault.
“Those look nasty,” I say, daring to touch one. “Ouch!” I pull back my hand—my fingertip is bloody.
“Here.” Xaren takes me by the wrist and leans down. Before I can speak, he sucks my fingertip into his mouth. I feel the wet warmth of his tongue as he bathes my wounded flesh and then a tingling sensation. Then he releases me.
“What…why…?” I can’t get the questions out. I still feel shocked by the feeling of his mouth on me.
“I’m your husband. Well—one of your husbands,” he says dryly. “Which means my Drake will help me heal you when you’re wounded.”
I look down at my fingertip and—sure enough—the tiny wound is healed.
“I…didn’t know Drakes could do that,” I say, rather breathlessly.
“They can do a great deal more than just fly and breathe fire,” Xaren informs me. “Now tell me exactly what groom did this and why. Because I don’t think these got under your mount’s saddle by accident.” He motions with the wicked-looking burrs and then tosses them away.
I tell him of the cryptic “message” Grims gave me before sending Mirabella off like a mad thing, but then he frowns.
“What do you think he meant? What did you see that you shouldn’t have?”
I feel my cheeks getting hot with a blush. Oh Goddess of Mercy, I can’t tell him what I saw! I can’t.
But it’s clear that Xaren is waiting for an answer.
“Well?” He raises his eyebrows. “Tell me what you saw, Elaina.”
His use of my name instead of calling me “little dove” lets me know he’s serious. Goddess, I suppose I’ll have to tell him.
“The other day, when I was here at the stables,” I say carefully. “I had just finished my ride and then I heard some…some strange sounds. Like grunting and…and slapping. I…” my cheeks are so hot I’m certain they’ll set my hair afire at any moment.
“Go on.” Xaren makes a one-handed gesture. “So what did you see?”
“I, er, went to investigate and I saw Henri and…and the Crown Prince,” I get out at last. “They were…they were…” But I can’t finish.
“Ah. You saw Dorian taking it up the ass, did you?” He gives a mirthless chuckle.
“Yes! If…if that’s what it’s called.” It seems to me that his words are crude but accurate.
“Among other things,” he says dryly. “So they saw you watching them and got upset.”
“I never would have said anything!” I exclaimed. “I didn’t say anything. But somehow word got back to the Queen. That’s why…why she sent me to you last night,” I add in a low voice. Goddess, now I truly am embarrassed.
Xaren doesn’t seem surprised.
“Yes, my mother has spies everywhere,” he remarks. “I could have told her that Dorian wouldn’t bed you. But she never listens to me.”
“You won’t either. Bed me, I mean,” I say, though I have no idea what makes those words come out of my mouth. Maybe my fear for the future—the time that is coming when I cannot escape the Queen finding out I’m not pregnant.
Xaren’s eyes narrow and he stares down at me.
“I think we’ve already established that you don’t really want me to bed you, little dove,” he growls.
I feel suddenly flustered and have to look away, my cheeks hot as coals.
“That’s what I thought,” Xaren growls. “Now come on—we’re going to find that groom who put burrs under your mount’s saddle and get to the bottom of this.” He hands me Mirabella’s reigns. “She’s quite calm now—can you mount?”
“Not…not without a mounting block,” I admit.
“Very well. Hold the reigns.” He puts big hands around my waist and lifts me up to my horse’s saddle. I give a little gasp—he’s acting like I weigh no more than a feather pillow!
A moment later I’m securely mounted. When he’s sure I’m safe, Xaren swings easily up onto his own mount and urges the big black stallion into a canter.
I do the same, clicking my tongue and tapping my heels at Mirabella’s sides. Now that she has no burrs under her saddle, she’s once more docile as a lamb. She goes when I ask her to, her pace extra steady and smooth, as though she’s trying to make up for the wild ride she took me on earlier.
But when we get back to the stables, Grims is gone. And when Xaren demands to speak to the Stable Master, the man swears with a straight face that there’s never been a groom with that name. I try describing him—lank blonde hair, thin face—but he denies ever having hired a man by that description.
It’s frustrating for me but even more so for Xaren.
“Listen to me…” He leans down and stares the Stable Master dead in the face, his golden eye flashing. “Elaina is my wife. One of the men who works here tried to injure or kill her—I want that man! I want him fucking brought to me the minute you find him!”
“We can look, Prince Xaren, but I’m telling you, I ain’t got nobody like that on my staff!”
I can’t tell if Xaren believes him or not but there’s a sullen look in the man’s eye. Almost like he’s holding a grudge against the Dark Prince. Again, I remember Tanzy’s story about the milkmaid and the stable boys. Maybe the Stable Master is still mad about that.
“You find him and bring him to me,” Xaren demands.
“And in the meantime, nothing had better happen to my wife. She’d better not even stub her toe on the mounting block or there’s going to be Hell to pay—and you’ll be the one paying it.
” His golden eye gleams. “So be sure you tell your staff—all of them—that she’s under my protection.
I will personally punish any man who even looks at her wrong. Am I making myself clear?”
“Very clear, Your Majesty,” the Stable Master mutters. He casts a baleful look in my direction and I feel my stomach knot. Something tells me I’d better give riding a rest for a while. I don’t think I’ll be welcome in the stables for some time.
But also, hearing Xaren claim me as his wife is doing funny things to me.
I feel butterflies fluttering again, but in a good way.
Dorian has certainly never claimed me like that—the Crown Prince can barely be bothered to notice me.
Then again, he has Henri, who seems to be enough for him.
And Xaren has no one. Except maybe me? I don’t know—I’m so confused.
At least we seem to be on good terms again…or so I think.