9. Princess Esemeray
PRINCESS ESEMERAY
Aria frowned, clapping the beige curtains in Esemeray’s bedchambers. Dust glittered in the morning light. “You haven’t eaten anything since the party. Is something wrong with your sandwich?”
Esemeray placed her hand beneath her chin and stared at the untouched plate in front of her. As hungry as she was, the thought of food made her stomach turn. She toyed with the bread, picking off the seeds. “I don’t want to eat.”
Aria angled her head. Her hair was down, flowing past her hips, unusual considering her hair was always either fashioned in a ponytail or a bun. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Esemeray slouched in her chair, her chest tightening. Other than fainting on the ballroom floor, she didn’t care to talk about what truly happened. If she had just told Leo the truth, he wouldn’t be locked away in such a filthy, dark place.
She glanced toward Aria, and her lips tightened. “I don’t want to marry Peter.” That was an understatement; she didn’t want to marry the devil, because that’s what Peter was.
The devil incarnate.
“I heard the news.” Aria offered an empathic smile. “Do you not find him worthy?”
“I just…” Esemeray sighed, drumming her fingertips across the wooden table as she watched raindrops streak across the glass window. It hardly ever rained in Dagon, but it brought peace to her mind when it did. “He’s rude.”
Aria wandered over to Esemeray, staring out the window. “It looks like it will storm soon. We can watch the lightning together. I know how much you love it.”
Despite her gloomy mood, Esemeray’s chest fluttered, eyes growing wide. She rushed for the window. “Do you think it will storm?” She couldn’t remember the last time it did.
Aria glanced skyward, grinning. “I’m certain of it. Don’t you see those clouds?”
Esemeray’s gaze locked on the black cloud moving toward them with rapid speed. “Yes.”
“I give it an hour before it gets going.” Aria’s eyes gleamed as distant thunder vibrated the pane.
“Or now.” Esemeray huffed a short laugh.
A knock sounded at the door, and Esemeray’s heart skipped.
Hoping it was not her mother, she crossed her fingertips. Please don’t let it be her. Anyone but her.
“I will get that,” Aria murmured, rubbing Esemeray’s shoulder in comforting strokes before she strode toward the door.
Aria straightened. “Captain Rutherford? How can I be of assistance?”
Esemeray sagged against the wall, hands pressed against her stomach, observing the captain from the door. His features softened, a small smile tilting his lips as his eyes trailed down Aria’s body.
Esemeray’s stomach recoiled. She needed to crawl beneath her bed and hide from the world.
She had never seen the captain show emotion on his face, nor had seen Aria act the way she had been.
Normally, Esemeray would have thought the sight of them was worth paying attention to.
Because who doesn’t love a good real-time romance?
But after what she’d seen last night? She considered telling Aria to run in the opposite direction, and stay far, far away.
The captain was abusive, and any blind woman would figure that from his presence alone. She hoped Aria saw it too.
“There is a court hearing, and since the princess was involved with an arrest last night, her presence is requested immediately.” His voice was soft, reassuring.
Esemeray’s chest constricted.
Aria turned, her eyes laced with worry as her hands anxiously wrung together.
Esemeray kicked off the wall, chewing on her lip, and sank back into her chair. She had not told Aria about what happened with the man last night. She supposed she’d have to now.
Aria’s voice shook. “Of course, I will make sure she is present. I must get her dressed.”
Captain Rutherford puffed his cheeks, blowing out a breath. He looked like he wished to say something else, but nodded awkwardly and walked away.
Aria let out a drawn out sigh, closing the door. “When were you going to tell me?”
Esemeray picked at her nails. “I… I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
Aria walked closer, sitting across from her. “Who was he?”
“A man named Leo,” Esemeray admitted. “Honestly, I don't even know why they arrested him. He did nothing wrong.”
Aria hummed. “I guess we will find out soon, won’t we?” Bracing her hands on the table, she stood. “Let's get you ready.”
Esemeray sat next to her mother on the dais, as usual, perched on stage like a delicate bird in a nest for all to gaze upon. She inhaled deeply, the throne room was thick with rose incense, stale perfume, and lingering sweat, most likely from the older townsmen sitting in the third row.
Every single one of them appeared as if they were shoving horse manure in the stables before they arrived.
Esemeray’s gaze gravitated toward the front row, where a posse of women fanned themselves, giggling over a few passing guards.
Esemeray tongued the inside of her cheek.
She was convinced they only came to pick up men or find the next topic to gossip about. Probably both.
A flicker of iridescent light caught the corner of her eye, stealing away her attention.
Sunlight flooded through magnificent stained-glass windows, illuminating the marble floors with an array of purple and pinks.
Esemeray beamed. Only a storm could cause such a reaction to happen.
When the thunder clouds clear, the colors and symbols would soon fade, and the floors would be plain once again.
Esemeray sighed, curiously scanning the room for Leo. Her shoulders slumped, and she could feel her heart shrinking.
He was nowhere in sight.
Captain Rutherford knelt before her parents, saying something to her father she didn’t care to hear, effortlessly tuning out his words.
She never cared for the politics, the capitulating, the meaningless flattery.
She didn’t even understand their talk anyhow.
She was too busy daydreaming about much more exciting alternatives.
Reading, flying, the dance she shared with Leo last night?—
Right. She should be paying attention. Biting at her lip, she traced the embroidered flowers on her gown, bouncing her knee.
“Stop that. Now!” her mother whispered viciously, her gaze never breaking from the crowd before her.
Esemeray planted her feet firmly on the dais, lacing her fingers over her lap, and straightened her spine before her mother scolded her for that, too.
“Captain Rutherford, bring them in,” her father spoke.
The captain stood, bowing at the waist and turned on his heel, heading for the double wooden doors. Her nerves thumped, a frantic drum beneath her skin. She steadied her breathing. He’s coming. Any second.
Moments later, the doors swung open, and her eyes fell on him instantly. She let out a slow breath, tracking his stride. He walked with a smirk and swagger despite the shackles at his wrists and ankles.
He was filthy and disheveled, but just the sight of him made her heart race. Her gaze landed on another man who was following close behind. He was nearly naked, the strength of his body on clear display for all those present. She cleared her throat, eyes falling to her tangled fingers.
The other man who was arrested. Esemeray noted his dark, full beard, golden skin, and his whiskey-brown eyes. Her chest fluttered. He was equally handsome.
She had never seen a man’s body so bare before.
His abdomen looked like it was carved of stone, and his thighs were built like the gods she saw in their sanctuaries.
Her stomach somersaulted, her jaw aching as she fought the urge to simper at the sight of him in his undershorts.
He was nearly as tall as Leo, but his build was much larger.
It took five guards to hold him in place as he struggled against them like a madman. “Get your shit smelling hands off me!”
Esemeray’s brows rose. On second thought—what a psychopath.
Her eyes naturally gravitated back to Leo. Her breath faltered, pulse skyrocketing. He was looking straight at her.
Her father’s voice echoed through the room, his command booming. “Both of you kneel.”
With force, both men were slammed to the floor, their shackles clinking with finality. Esemeray swallowed her gasp, digging her nails into her palm, hard enough to break skin.
“State your names,” her father demanded.
Leo kept his eyes locked on her. “Riggs Whitlock.”
Riggs? Her fingers uncurled, stomach plummeting.
She inhaled a shaky breath, confusion clouding her mind.
She schooled her features with the mask she often wore.
Her blood boiled. He’d lied straight to her face…
No. She had no reason to be upset. She had lied too.
The tension fled, drifting far, far away from her.
She wouldn’t let herself ruin the memory of him.
Riggs' gaze darkened, and that smirk still ghosted his lips. Her body stiffened, and she prayed her mother didn’t see the way he was looking at her. Riggs flashed a subtle wink, adjusting on his knees as the shackles clinked with movement. Her breath caught, toes curling.
The guards nudged the other man to speak. He bared his teeth before setting his gaze on the king. “Killian Whitlock,” he stated, voice low and husky.
Everyone in the room gasped, and then loud chatter began to flow around the room.
Are they brothers? Esemeray hummed, curiously noting their straight noses, golden tan skin, soft eyes, and rugged features. Definitely brothers.
“Silence!” her father roared. “Silence!”
It took the court nearly a minute to settle down, the quiet brittle as the people stretched onto their toes to see the two men kneeling before the dais.
“The notorious Whitlock brothers,” her father said, feigning a bored tone.
Esemeray had heard of the Whitlock bounty hunters years ago, but assumed they were made-up stories. Why are they here?
“In the flesh.” Riggs smirked.
Her father grunted, regaining the attention of the room. “You two caused quite the commotion last night. Now tell me, what brought you here to intrude upon my festivities?”