Mistress Guard (Lady Blade #1)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Tisera

I loved summers in Pearlia. I’d take the blazing sun over the dark chill days of winter in a heartbeat. And when storms did blow in off the Narrow Sea, the warm drenching rains kept lawns and gardens green and lush. Nights were comfortable and dawns came early, helping me to get up and get going, as I had today.

Having finished my morning calisthenics, I soaked in a bath, one of the few luxuries I’d afforded myself after the war. I’d purchased it with the heady payout for my service. The outside bathing area was hidden by a circular stand of juniper trees behind my cottage.

My cottage.

It still felt strange to think of the small dwelling and the land around it as mine, to think of myself as a landowner. This had all been purchased and built by my grandfather, who’d passed it down to my father, who’d passed it down to me.

The juniper grove had previously surrounded a private sitting area with three benches. I’d had them removed and the large wooden tub placed where they’d been. The gap between trees, where one entered the grove, I’d filled in with a stone archway holding a sturdy wooden door, for privacy.

The large tub had been made by the finest bath-makers in Pearlia. Wood had been bent and smoothed to form the sides and a bench within, on which I sat, the warm waters soothing away the aches I’d acquired through my vigorous workout. My head rested on a thick towel laid over the side of the large tub. I’d used harsh soaps and rough brushes to scrub myself raw and now — since I had nothing else of substance to do today — I luxuriated in the tepid waters.

And that’s where Avela found me. I’d heard her calling, but my languid mind had not fully registered it.

“Mistress!” Avela said, hurrying through the doorway. “You must come at once! Master Kelric Drakoson is here and with him?—”

I tuned out the rest.

Kel?

What in all the blazes of the deepest Hells was he doing here?

I hadn’t spoken to him for almost a year now, not since his father had retired and handed command of Drako’s Dragoons over to Kel. I’d been a part of Drako’s mercenary company — and had great respect for the man — but I couldn’t work for his son: that lying, untrustworthy piece of shit. So, I’d left and we’d not spoken since. What was he doing here now?

“Mistress, did you hear me? I said, Master Kelric Drakoson is here and Prince Victor is with him!”

Wait, what?

The crown-prince?

I shot up out of the bath, grabbing my towel to cover myself, as if the two men were standing in the doorway, which they weren’t.

Thank the gods.

My mind reeled.

“Fuck me,” I hissed. “The crown prince? Here?”

“Yes, mistress! Please, they’re asking for you.”

I stepped onto the bench, then over the side of the tub and down the steps built into the outside of the basin to help get in and out. Wrapping the towel around myself, I got as far as the stone-laid path and stopped dead.

“Fuck.” I couldn’t return to the cottage like this. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

Avela flinched at my language. The girl — no, she was my age, I had to stop thinking of her that way — was a gentle soul.

“Mistress?”

All I had with me were my soiled work-out clothes and the towel. Usually, I’d have worn just the towel for the short trip back to the cottage to dress. But I couldn’t do that with the fucking prince waiting for me!

“Avela, run and fetch me some clothes from my wardrobe. Tell the prince…” what? That I was in the bath? That didn’t sound good, but it was probably better than lying and would excuse a bit of a delay and fuss on my part. So, yeah… “Tell the prince I was bathing and will need a moment. Master Kel and the prince can wait in the cottage for me.”

Luckily my housemate, Dazar — a man who was like a brother to me — was off in the inner city on an errand. He shouldn’t be back before noon. That would leave the cottage empty and quiet for Kel and the prince.

Avela started to run off, but I stopped her with a word. “Wait.”

“Yes, mistress?”

“Make sure to get my blue shirt and the black pants,” I specified.

Avela nodded and ran off.

I dried myself quickly, thankful I’d recently chopped back my hair. It dried much faster — and it wouldn’t get in my way in a fight — even if it was a spikey mess that never settled the way I wished.

I stood there, naked, waiting for Avela to return and wondering what in the blazes of the Five Hells the prince was doing here… and with Kel no less.

I heard Avela’s running sandals on the stone path before the door to the bathing area was yanked open and slammed shut.

“The prince and Master Kelric are waiting in the cottage, here are the clothes you requested.” She held out the bundle, neatly folded and pristine. She was out of breath, sweaty and frazzled, but she’d come through for me. I was eternally grateful.

I dressed quickly.

“How do I look?” I asked Avela.

She smiled. “Far better than I do, I’m sure.”

I tried not to grimace at that. As much as I was composed and she was a bit winded, Avela was a beautiful girl — no, woman — with all of the curves men loved. She possessed a full, high bust, slender waist and arms, round hips and thighs, bouncing blond curls, and stunning sunrise-golden eyes.

I — on the other hand — had none of that.

I was tall for a woman and built like a man: strong and sturdy, with square shoulders, thick strong arms and legs, straight hips, a narrow waist and a bust with which I had a complicated relationship.

I certainly wasn’t full-bosomed like Avela, which might have been nice, if I’d ever wanted to look womanly. Yet I also wasn’t completely flat, which would have been great when wearing armor. I was large enough that my breasts always ached and chafed after being in armor too long, but not large enough to fill out most dresses. Not that I wore a lot of dresses. Under a shirt, I looked like I had the chest of a very muscular man, if a bit more rounded. Not womanly at all. It was a good thing I rarely wore dresses or wanted to be womanly.

But that didn’t mean I didn’t want a man in my life. However, if my build didn’t scare off men, my scars did. I was a warrior and scars came with the job.

Luckily, this blue shirt — my best shirt — was loose and billowy, hiding a lot of my masculine features. The black pants were just a bit tight and showed off my muscular legs. That was unintentional. They were meant to be loose and straight, but I’d bulked up a bit since I’d first bought them.

I was ready.

“Thank you, Avela,” I said, leaving her as I headed to the door, but I stopped with my hand on the latch. “Thank you… for everything. I couldn’t run this place without you and Shorine.”

It was true. I wasn’t one for gardening nor tending to lands. My father had hired Shorine to do those jobs and I’d kept her on. The woman was growing old though and had recently ‘adopted’ Avela to be her successor. Avela had taken to the job eagerly, mostly helping Shorine but sometimes being a lady’s maid for me… on the rare occasion I felt like being a lady.

I left the bath and walked to the cottage, trying to keep calm as my mind and emotions raged within me.

I stopped at the door to the cottage and took a long, deep breath before entering, a pleasant smile on my face… for the prince only.

Kel could choke on a cherry pit and die for all I cared.

I entered and the two men rose from the small sitting area at one end of the open main room. I knelt and bowed my head. “Your Highness,” I said with due reverence.

“Please rise,” Victor said, his tone full and commanding. Though it wasn’t as deep and resonant as Kel’s.

I did so.

“How may I serve you,” I asked, incredibly curious.

I kept my gaze focused on the prince. I daren’t even glance at Kel. Looking at that man for too long would get me flustered and furious at the same time. Gods, but he was a handsome man, and a lying, betraying bastard. I didn’t want to think about our torrid nights during the siege of Vestrea, nor how he’d abandoned me after the war.

The prince, on the other hand, was quite pleasant to look at. The man was tall and had a regal bearing, with square shoulders on a lean, strong frame. He possessed a slightly protruding chin, aqua-blue eyes, and flaxen-blond hair. The entire royal family, and most of the nobility of Pearlia, possessed similar features — jewel-toned eyes and blond hair — some wearing them better than others. The prince wore his very well indeed.

“Kelric tells me you are a hardened warrior, yes?” I didn’t have time to answer before he went on: “Fought in the Ero-Pearlian War, and distinguished yourself? And that you can be trusted to be discreet?”

I waited to see if he’d say more. When he didn’t, I nodded. “Yes, your highness.”

Still, I didn’t know what he’d need with me specifically. There were many veterans of that war. Though the bit about being “discreet” had piqued my curiosity even more.

The prince drew a long breath and looked at Kel. Inadvertently, my gaze followed his and I took in all of Kel’s glorious manliness.

The untrustworthy, deserting cad was brutishly handsome. The lustrous deep brown of his skin denoted his non-Pearlian heritage. His father — Drako — had been full Usovi, but Kel’s mother had been a Pearlian woman, which meant Kel didn’t share Drako’s ebony complexion. He was tall and hung like a prized stallion…

Did I say ‘hung’? I meant built.

He was built like a prized stallion, with massive rolling shoulders and heavy slabs of muscle for a chest. Even after a year, he was still extremely fit, his shirt falling over his form, not bulging over his belly like I had secretly hoped it might. It looked like the semi-retirement of working for the crown hadn’t softened him yet.

He kept his head shaved — a custom of the Usovi — and had deep, dark eyes. A rigid nose and full lips over a strong chin anchored his look as all man and all warrior.

Seeing him again flared my rage, even as my core clenched with heated moisture. My body’s betrayal made me hate him all the more.

“Captain Drakoson has recommended you for a special mission,” the prince said.

I barely heard him, my confused emotions billowing to almost unmanageable levels. I dragged my attention back to the prince, which wasn’t easy, but once I did, I managed to calm myself.

“Did he?” I was more than a little stunned by this.

“It’s not something any of his… men can do,” the prince said, and instantly I understood.

“Ah, yes.” I nodded. “Go on.”

As a woman warrior, I was a rare breed. The only one with any real experience and skill in the city… perhaps in the entire kingdom. Usually it meant I missed out on opportunities, most employers preferring a swordsman over a swordswoman, but in this case, apparently it was a boon. A rare instance indeed. I still didn’t know what the prince wanted, but things were quickly being narrowed down.

As my mind worked to figure out what it could be, the prince grew a bit awkward and hesitant. He cleared his throat.

“I… ah… have need of a guard, for a woman… friend of mine.”

“With all respect Your Highness, it’s probably best if you tell her everything,” Kel said. His deep voice sent a shock of remembrance through me. I recalled how he’d whispered in my ear as we’d lain exhausted in each other’s arms, his thick, pulsing cock still heavy inside me after a moment of passion, stolen from the night.

Clenching my jaw, I dispelled those thoughts and listened.

The prince cleared his throat again. This time he was slightly more forthright. “You may have heard I’ve taken a mistress.”

I had, but only in passing. I didn’t really follow the lives of the royals.

He sighed heavily. “I…” He licked his lips and decided not to say whatever that had been. Instead he drew a breath and started again.

“My mother has forbidden me to see the woman.”

I didn’t blame the queen. Prince Victor was a married man with three children, one of whom — Princess Anastasia — was nearly a grown woman herself at fourteen. And his wife, Princess Kira, was from Ossara and any infidelity could hinder our relations with that neighboring nation. It was quite the scandal that Victor had taken up with some unknown woman at a palace ball.

The prince squared his shoulders. “But I am a grown man and I will do as I wish. I love Veora and she loves me. And though it might damn me, I will see her again!” The vehemence with which he said this startled me. He must truly love this woman, even if that made him a cheating bastard like Kel. Not that I would say anything to the prince.

He continued, “Yet I am under constant scrutiny and I cannot leave the palace without guards and a procession most days. I was lucky to make it here with just Captain Drakoson today, and that required special planning. Hence, I cannot sneak out to go to her.”

The pieces were falling into place.

“So,” the prince said, resuming a more neutral tone, “I require someone who is discreet and capable to escort and protect my beloved and sneak her into the palace to be with me. I will give you all the information you need to get past the guards at the servant’s gate, but you will not be able to carry any weapons, nothing larger than a dagger. Kelric assures me you are more than capable at unarmed combat. As well, I will let you know of secret passages within the palace you can use to get her to my rooms. I will be entrusting you not only with royal secrets but the life of my beloved. So… can you do this for me, Tisera Halvensdaughter?”

Could I? Yes.

Would I?

Helping an immoral prince and his lover on the word of my bastard ex-lover? I didn’t know.

The real question was: did I have a choice?