All the while Perri did as he bid, with a stoic air. Yet he could sense that her patience with him was distinctly thinning. He’d like to say there was a tone in her voice, but no, that remained gentled and sweet. He wondered what that cost her.
Happily, he could tell she was nearing the end of her tether by the way her bosom bounced delightfully as she attempted to suck in deep cleansing calming breaths. Doubly entertaining for Brandth. As if the Gods themselves were rewarding him for endeavouring to unmask this false pretender.
The cracks finally began to show when he requested a new blanket, as the current one, he explained with great detail, was completely the wrong shade of green and made him look bilious. The corners she tucked when she made the exchange were a little tighter than perhaps they needed to be. Her deep breath upon completing the task perhaps closer to a sigh of exasperation than she probably would have liked. Hah, there, there was the real Perri peeking out behind that dreadful serene demeanour she had recently adopted.
“Is there anything else you require, your Lordship?” Oh, yes, that tone was way too sweet, almost sounding like she was daring Brandth to request one more blessed thing.
“Ah… now that you mention it…”
“What? What is it now? Is the bed too comfortable? Does the moon need to be moved because its light is annoying you? Perhaps the ceiling is too high? Your water too wet? What ridiculous thing could you possibly want now?”
Hah, he’d won. Annihilating that sweet, good, calm exterior to revel the true Perri. And for his reward, well, Brandth would take the sight of her heaving bosom, he was no saint after all. But now to get to the crux of why she’d been trying to play him false.
“Actually… I was going to say I was feeling a tad lonely and would appreciate a little conversation.”
“You…” More deep breathing followed.
He definitely believed in the power of prayer, along with a lovely heaving bosom.
“You… impossible-”
“Now. Now. Before you say anything you might regret Healer Perri, remember there is something you clearly require of me. And it would be a pity after all your efforts to estrange me. Come, sit. Enough with these charades. Drop these false virtuous airs, and speak plainly with me. Tell me truth, did spending the night alone together ignite a passion in your heart that you can no longer contain? Is this your way of wooing me perchance?”
* * *
Grrr. Perri locked her teeth together, a torrent of words threatening to spill forth. This man… was a conceited, pompous, manipulative, jester. The tea. The pillows. The wrong shade of green blanket. He should count himself lucky to still be alive. The idea of smothering him with a too hard pillow was beyond appealing right now.
Unfortunately, Perri needed him alive. Worse still, she needed Brandth to do her a favour. What had she been thinking? Sagging down onto the nearest chair, Perri fought against a wave of smothering fear and hopelessness. She couldn’t do this one simple thing, she was a failure. Her son’s life hanging in the balance.
Rage and howling fear clamouring at her innards. It was so unfair. She despised feeling helpless. Had worked for a decade to ensure she would never experience that emotion again, and yet here she was. Back where she started. Brought down yet again thanks to a ridiculously handsome man. Who’s every word was questionable. Every motive suspect.
“Perri?”
This was no mocking or jeering evident in Brandth’s tone. If she didn’t know better, she would almost say concern laced that one word, her name. Worse, he reached out and took one of her tightly clenched fists in his large calloused hands. Slowly, carefully, uncurling it. Soothing away the harsh indentations her nails had caused when they dug into her palm.
“Talk to me.”
Again, the words plain, lacking edge, hinting at concern. She couldn’t bring herself to trust in them, or him. She should stick to the plan. Be nice. Spoil Brandth. Gentle him. Trick him. “I need you to extend the bridal candidate invitation to my sister, Alia.” Or she could just blurt out her demand.
“Alia?” Brandth repeated the name. Clearly trying to recall which of her kin she was referring to.
Gods. She’d come this far. “The Beast.”
Other than the slightest widening of his eyes for a split second, Brandth’s reaction was somewhat heartening. He wasn’t laughing. Or pointing a finger and declaring Perri mad. “Let me get this straight. The Beast would like to marry the Prince of the Realm?”
Perri was a terrible liar, so she stuck to the truth. “Alia would very much like to travel to the Golden Palace. Grateful beyond measure to be considered one of the bridal candidates.” It really would solve all their problems.
“Other than crossing paths during the hunt. During which time I believe I was mostly unconscious, I cannot recall interacting with your sister. Does she have a lot of maidenly attributes that my Prince would value?”
Maidenly attributes? Alia?
“Is she beautiful?”
“I certainly find her so.”
“But you’re her blood kin, her sister. How might others describe her?”
“Um… well, you know she excels at hunting. And… I believe most people might consider her… tall?”
