Yes, fucking curious. It was always nice to learn I may have a raging hard-on whenever I saw my one true love from here on until I bedded her, which was going to happen never. Meaning… My future looked truly miserable, filled with raging, unrequited lust.
“You are so not helping,” I muttered. “In fact, you should leave now. Your uncertainty has done nothing but—”
“No.” Her voice was firm as she narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to seek her out.”
She’d been my sister far too long, because she was exactly right; I had planned to seek out my one true love.
I bared my teeth in a snarl. “Of course I’m going to seek her out. I have to know if she’s okay.” I had to know what she was like. Was she easy-going with a quick smile and quicker wit? Closed-off and intense? Airheaded and whiny? Pretentious and vain?
The not-knowing was driving me crazy.
But most importantly, I had to touch her. Kiss her. Get inside her. My body was still screaming at me over how imperative that was.
“You’ll frighten her if you approach her with the mood you’re in. And she’s pregnant. Urban! You don’t want her to accidentally harm her child because you scared her, now do you? What do you think that would do to her?”
I winced. Hurting her in any way would slaughter me. Almost as much as it slaughtered me to think of her carrying around someone else’s infant.
I surged up off the bed and began to pace the room once more. “You don’t understand.”
“Yes, I do understand.” Allera spread her hands. “I know how important this is to you. How important she is to you. I’ve been through this before, remember? And that is why I promise you I’ll approach her for you. I’ll find out if she’s happy with the life she has.”
I shook my head, not satisfied with that. “I want to measure her level of contentment for myself.”
“I’m aware of that, my sweet little brother. But you know as well as I do how unwise that is. You should stay away from her.”
I turned away moodily, not wanting to hear that suggestion. “Stop calling me little. I haven’t been smaller than you since I was twelve.”
Allera chuckled even as she hugged me from behind, soaking my shirt with her silent tears. “I know how difficult this is for you.”
Dammit. Her tears were what undid me. Agony roared through my chest. Covering her hand with mine, I lifted my face toward the ceiling and squeezed my eyes closed.
“It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“But you’ll stay away, right?” Letting go of me so she could force me around to face her, she sent me a fond smile. “Tell me you’ll trust me to get the information you want. It’s in the best interest for all of us that you do nothing.”
My jaw hardened, but after a moment, I turned away and nodded. “I’ll stand aside,” I said. “For now.”
“Thank you.” Allera rose onto her tiptoes and kissed my cheek. “I won’t let you down, I promise. Besides.” She flashed me a mischievous grin. “This will help me keep my mind off the fact I’m going to be marrying someone who isn’t Jazon soon.”
I nodded, always a little saddened when I heard his name aloud. Jazon might’ve been her one true love, but he’d been my best friend. It had ripped us both apart when we’d lost him. Which was one of the reasons why I’d never been able to tell her the full truth about his death. I couldn’t lose her too.
Watching Allera walk to the door, I waited until she opened it before I said her name.
She glanced back with lifted eyebrows.
“I wasn’t paying attention during the introduction,” I admitted. “Did she… I mean, did anyone announce what her name was?”
Allera smiled. “Yes. The queen’s name is Yasmin. And her sister is Lady Vienne.”
“Vienne,” I whispered as Allera left, shutting the door behind her. My heart thudded hard against my rib cage.
My one true love was called Vienne.
Chapter 4
Vienne
“Oh, Vienne.” Princess Nicolette draped herself across the empty seat next to me and sighed wistfully. “Don’t you think Prince Urban is the dreamiest, most handsome man you’ve ever seen?” Tucking her hands beneath her cheek, she batted her lashes my way. “I certainly do.”
I furrowed my brow. Personally, I’d been thinking I was going to lose my mind if my back didn’t stop aching. I hadn’t been able to get comfortable in the last three weeks, no matter whether I was standing, sitting, or lying. So, yeah… No. Thinking about the attractiveness of princes from foreign lands hadn’t even registered with me.
“Hmm,” I answered, frowning when I messed up a stitch on the booties I was sewing and had to undo it. I shifted in my chair, relieving an ache in my spine only for my side to cramp. Drat. There had to be some comfortable way to arrange myself.
Nicolette was still waiting for an answer, so I distractedly said, “Yes, well… He didn’t seem disfigured from what I could tell.”
“Disfigured?” Nicolette screeched, sitting upright to gawk incredulously. It didn’t seem fair that no matter how she moved in her chair, she looked as comfortable as a baby kitten nestled in a bed of soft blankets. I kind of wanted to hate her for that.
“Why, he was beautiful. Simply breathtaking. You must not have gotten a good look at him.”
I trapped my tongue between my teeth, concentrating as I redid the stitches I’d just undone. “You’re probably right. You did get much closer than I did.”
Nicolette nodded, seemingly appeased, and fell back into her chair with ease. Lucky brat. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man more handsome than he. He was just so dashing and…and manly. Maybe when I’m of age, he and I can marry.” She reached for my arm and squeezed warmly. “You’d be my bridal attendant, of course.”
With a soft chuckle, I nodded. “That sounds delightful, Princess. I’d be honored.”
I’m not quite certain why she’d taken a liking to me. Yasmin was her true sister-in-law; I was merely a cousin-in-law. You’d think Nicolette would trail the queen around all day. But whenever Brentley—who was Nicolette’s first choice of companions—wasn’t available, the young princess seemed to prefer my company. I had to admit, it was flattering. But I always wondered, why me? I wasn’t anything special.
Or maybe it was because I wasn’t a big talker, which gave her leave to blurt whatever was on her mind… Which she did often. In random spurts. It was quite amusing. I typically loved listening to her, when I wasn’t in pain.
Or possibly, she appreciated the fact that I never corrected her. Yasmin was forever trying to persuade the princess to act with more decorum. She’d suggested to Caulder more than once that Nicolette be sent away to a boarding school where she could be tutored to be a true lady.
I winced, trying to forget the school my sister and I had attended as children. As dutiful then as I was now, I’d never been one to misbehave, yet I still couldn’t count the amount of times I’d gotten into trouble for standing wrong, or sitting wrong, or freaking breathing wrong. Once, I’d been woken in the middle of the night and beaten for sleeping wrong. True story.
Putting Nicolette in an academy like that would kill the most spirited, lovely part of her. The very idea made something deep inside me steam with anger. So I was pleased that my brother-in-law kept resisting Yasmin’s suggestions, and the king let Nicolette stay at the castle with us and be herself.
“Oh! They’re little slippers,” Nicolette said suddenly after frowning at the booties I was knitting.
Glad my first attempt at crocheting was at least recognizable, I smiled and nodded. “They are, indeed. Thank you.”
“I hope your baby’s a girl,” she went on. “That way, I can actually spend time with her.”
Soren didn’t agree. He’d only ever referred to the child as he. I don’t think it had even occurred to him that I might not provide him with a male issue on the first try.
“What do you mean?” I asked, pausing in confusion. ?
??You could spend time with a little boy, as well.”
Nicolette nodded and let out a dramatic sigh. “Oh, I know, but sometimes I wish I had a sister.”
I don’t, I almost muttered aloud, before realizing how ungrateful and awful that would sound. Pursing my lips, I swallowed down the terrible thought, even while I continued to think Nicolette probably wouldn’t be so quick to wish for a sister if she’d ended up with one like mine.
I loved Yasmin, I honestly did. I would die to protect her. And when she got her way, she was perfectly pleasant. But she had this annoying habit of wanting the best of everything, or at least the version better than what I received. And it made her a bit…hmm, what’s a tactful word to use? Unmanageable, maybe. I honestly believed that if King Caulder had picked me to be his bride instead of her, she would’ve had me murdered in my sleep. Yasmin would do anything to get what she wanted.
As if sensing my unpleasant thoughts, the queen sauntered into the room with a trio of servants trailing behind.
“Ladies,” she greeted us with a pleasant sigh as she flowed our way. “Please tell me I’m not missing any good gossip. If we’re talking about the dress Princess Allera was wearing, don’t worry, I’ve already ordered three replicas in even better colors. And I’ll let you borrow them once I’ve worn them all.”
Since Nicolette had been lounging in the nicest chair in the room, she scurried to stand so Yasmin could have the seat of honor instead. With a gracious nod to the teen, Yasmin seated herself next to me, her maids bustling around her to arrange the skirt of her dress so she looked perfect.
“Actually, we were discussing the new prince,” I said.
I decided not to mention we’d already bypassed that topic and were now onto my baby, because Yasmin was still irritated that I’d gotten pregnant before she had.
It was always best not to irritate the queen.
Heads might roll. Literally.
“Yes. Isn’t he just amazing?” Nicolette gushed, flopping down on the other side of me, and ignoring the settee closest to Yasmin. “His eyes were so blue and his jaw so firm.”
Yasmin merely sniffed as she examined her painted fingernails. “He’s a little too tall and muscled for my taste. Only servants should be that brawny. And that scar at the corner of his mouth was simply—”
“Delicious,” Nicolette announced, making Yasmin gasp in outrage. “But the tattoo by his eye is the sexiest part, I think. Why, just looking at it made me so heated, I nearly had to fan myself right there in the Throne Room.”
“Nicolette! A lady your age doesn’t say such things.”
Nicolette rolled her eyes at Yasmin and promptly turned to me. “You’ve heard what they mean, haven’t you?”
“What what means?” I asked, trying to follow the conversation as I tied off the yellow string of yarn to start a row of light green.
“The tattoo by his eye, of course,” Nicolette pressed. “It’s a love mark.”
I glanced up, not expecting to hear such a term, especially not about the stern-looking prince who’d arrived today with his sister. “A love mark?”
“Pfft. It’s pure absurdity is what it really is,” Yasmin muttered. “Soren says the entire tradition behind those damned tattoos is a bunch of evil sorcery, plus a lousy excuse for them to mate below their station if they wish. Hell, before you know it, they’ll rut with the livestock and try to excuse it by saying the mark told them to do it.”
I blinked at her, totally lost. I’m not sure what bothered me more; the horribly prejudiced words coming from her mouth, that she was quoting my husband, or that my husband had talked with her about something he’d never discussed with me, because I had no idea what either lady was talking about, and I felt distinctly left out.
“It is not evil sorcery.” Nicolette sounded aghast. “Brentley told me the women of magic who perform the rituals are High Cliff’s most cherished priestesses. So they’re quite holy.”
“Whatever.” Yasmin rolled her eyes. “It’s still a stupid custom.”
“Well, I think it’s romantic,” Nicolette muttered under her breath.
Moodily embarrassed by my ignorance, I glanced to either side of me before quietly asking, “What’s this ritual we’re talking about again?”
I’d never seen anyone with a tattoo like Prince Urban’s before. I’d had no idea it was part of some kind of custom.
“Oh, it’s incredible,” Nicolette started, lighting up, only for Yasmin to snort.
“Idiotic, she means.”
After sending a pointed glare Yasmin’s way, Nicolette turned back to me, her eyes alight with excitement. “Only these super important magic priestess women in High Cliff can perform the ritual or it won’t work. They burn the holy trees in that region and take the leftover ashes to use in an ink to tattoo the mark of a heart within a circle right by that person’s left eye. And once that’s done—”
“Ladies,” a dry voice from the doorway interrupted, making me want to growl because I’d really wanted to hear the rest of Nicolette’s story.
I glanced up to find Soren standing stiffly in the entrance of the room, his hands folded behind his back.
My husband bowed formally to us. “I’ve come to collect you for dinner.”
“Ohh,” Nicolette cheered, leaping from her chair. “Thank God it’s time to eat. I bet he’s there. I can’t wait to see him again.” She raced from the room without waiting for anyone else. As I struggled to stand, two of Yasmin’s maids came forward to take her hands and help her rise.
Seeing how much effort it was taking me with my full, pregnant belly to get out of my own chair, my husband sighed impatiently and stepped forward to offer me a hand.
I sent him a tight smile. “Thank you.”
Nodding, he eyed the tangle of yarn I set on my abandoned seat and grimaced. “What is that?”
“Oh.” I blushed my embarrassment. “I’ve been trying my hand at crochet. Attempting to make booties for the baby.”
“Good Lord, is that what you’re doing?” Yasmin asked with a laugh. “Who would’ve guessed?”
Her words hurt, and I’m afraid I didn’t conceal the crease between my brows before Soren caught the look. With a placating smile, he leaned toward me and murmured, “I’m sure you’ll improve with time.”
I nodded at him, my smile faint.
Since Yasmin was the queen, Soren held out his elbow to her to escort her to the dining hall, because it was only right for the lady with the highest title in the room to be escorted before anyone else. And I swear, no one stood on propriety as much as my husband did.
As he led her away, I followed them, setting my hand on my stomach when the child within shifted. I loved it when the baby moved. I always wondered what she was thinking. Had my movement frightened her, or did she like the ride? I kept smoothing my fingers over her, hoping I was soothing her in case she was scared. I didn’t want my child to fear anything. I wanted her to be brave enough to rule the world if she so desired.
“Ah, there’s my lovely bride,” Caulder’s boisterous voice called as soon as we entered the dining room moments later.
I liked how enamored the king was of my sister. He spoiled her mercilessly, and she’d turned out quite content because of it. He was a good man all around: kind and generous, yet protective of his people.
There was, of course, a part of me that was jealous he’d chosen Yasmin and not me to be his wife. Yasmin and I had become engaged to our husbands on the same evening. My father had invited the king and his cousin to dine with us so Caulder could pick which sister he wanted. The unpicked sister was left to Soren by default.
Truth be told, I was glad I hadn’t become the queen. That was a position I didn’t relish. I would hate having so much of the public eye on me. And there was no fault with Soren. He’d never mistreated me. But I’d always felt more comfortable around Caulder than I did with Soren. There was just something more open and pleasant to him. Plus, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be so tense and worr
ied during all our personal contact if Caulder had ended up in my bed.
Not that any of that was neither here nor there, just silly wishful thinking. I was relieved the small splash of jealousy I had wasn’t strong enough to eat me from within. And Soren had certainly never done anything to displease me. He just hadn’t done anything to necessarily please me, either.
“Brentley’s fetching Princess Allera and Prince Urban as we speak,” Caulder was telling his wife as Soren led her to the seat next to him. “As soon as they arrive, we may begin.”
Yasmin sent him a stiff, bitter smile. “So kind of them to make us wait.”
“Yasmin,” her husband chided softly as I sat myself next to her. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “They’ve only just arrived. They know nothing yet of our schedules or customs. Give them a chance. Please. We need this alliance.”
“Of course, darling.” My sister nodded gracefully to her husband only to turn to me and roll her eyes before whispering for my ears alone, “Soren certainly doesn’t think we need the alliance. He thinks we should’ve aligned with Far Shore instead.”
I held my tongue. But my, my. She and Soren certainly talked a lot. Besides, it probably wouldn’t do for me to disagree with my own husband, because I had to side with Caulder on this topic.
Our kingdom wasn’t even sixty years old. Being so young made us vulnerable. But worse than that, we’d grown and prospered far too quickly for our own safety. And news of our wealth was spreading. In the past handful of years, we’d become a ticking time bomb with a target on our backs. It would only be a matter of time before someone tried to take what we had, and sadly, we were sorely lacking in defense if they did. Any chance we had to align ourselves with a powerful, intimidatingly strong, and wiser kingdom, we should take, especially one with an army like High Cliff’s—not Far Shore’s.
Besides, I thought Donnelly could learn much from a kingdom as old and respected as High Cliff.