“Finally. Thank you. My brother has been blocking me this entire time. Siblings. So long, Timothey.” Lady Niah flounced away, heading for her ball.
Three more turns had Alia lining up to take a shot at the next goal. Only for a red ball to land right in front of hers, blocking it, barely two inches separating them.
“Oh, looks like you’re faced with a conundrum.” Talac sauntered over to study their balls. “Either we achieve the goal together, or-”
Thwack, their balls each spun off in different directions. Talac’s head snapping up to study the owner of the green ball, that haughty bland expression back on his face. All the blood instantly draining away from Lady Tolbeth’s face, her complexion paler than her white blonde hair suddenly.
“Very strategic, Lady Tolbeth.” Alia commented, thinking that if the blonde had acted confidently and crowed about her achievement, like Niah, then Talac wouldn’t have brought the Prince mask slamming down. Alia all too familiar with being on the receiving end of that look of fear and dread on Lady Tolbeth’s face. That expression a constant reminder that Alia held power of life and death over the Lair inhabitants. The Beast. Or in Talac’s case – The Prince mantle. Meaning you were never allowed to forget the infinite number of burdens that came with your position. The responsibilities. The expectations. How isolating it could be… how alone she sometimes felt, even surrounded by a crowd of people.
Was that how Talac felt?
It was a little disconcerting to discover that the Beast and the Prince might have more in common than Alia could ever have imagined. Damn, she was getting distracted, she needed to focus, win this game, and get those Palace doors open so all the waiting aristos could join them.
Head down, Alia took three turns to get her ball back into position. Talac hot on her tail, and surprisingly, Lady Niah had picked up the gauntlet. Not far behind them.
The look on their faces as Alia scoop hit her ball completely over into the next section was priceless. She’d already taken the goal in this sextant earlier. In fact, Alia only had one goal left in order to win. Unfortunately, the Sensch siblings had reached this section also. And Lord Enron was already eyeing Alia’s ball with a view to sending her once more traipsing into the wildflower meadow. Not this time, she vowed.
Ignoring the goal, Alia turned her attention to Enron’s white ball. Time to see how well he navigated boggy ground. Hauling back her hammer, breathing out slowly, following through with speed and precision. The thwack the balls made when they hit sounded almost like a thunderclap. Enron’s ball hurtling through the air, finally falling to the ground on the far side of the wildflower meadow.
“Terribly sorry, Lord Enron.” Alia quoted his favourite saying back at him, ensuring she had the most bland bored look on her face as possible.
Green eyes flashed her way in anger, promising future retribution, as Lord Enron stalked off to find his ball. His curses drifting back as he stepped into the meadow and began to pick his way clumsily across it. Annoyingly, whilst Alia had been dealing with Enron, she’d forgotten about his sister. Lady Parkour might not have the strength to hit Alia’s ball out of the playing field but her next shot certainly proved effective enough. Knocking Alia’s ball through a small gap into what was a circle of stones. By the time she’d gotten clear of them, Lady Niah had cleared the last goal and with a fierce competitive smile was aiming to move into Alia’s section. Whilst the Prince’s ball had come to rest immediately before the goal Alia needed.
If she wanted to win, she’d hit his ball off in another direction. But she wanted the game over, so taking a deep breath she hit his ball head on, sending it through the goal, hers following closely behind it. A servant immediately began to wave a red flag.
“Congratulations, Your Highness.” She went to brush past him, intending to join Perri under the shade of the tents, but Talac swept his arm through hers, slowing her down.
“Here, let me escort you, Lady Alia. We… abnormally tall people should stick together, don’t you think?”
The doors to the Palace were being opened, aristos in their best afternoon garden party outfits surging out onto the balcony and streaming down the marble steps in a wave of silks, satins and velvets.
Alia’s gaze swept over the newcomers, searching.
“Are you looking for anyone in particular?”
Damn Talac’s observant ways. “No, not at all.” Forcing herself to look up and concentrate on him instead.
“Are you sure? It’s just you seemed intent on ensuring the quarry hammer game ended speedily. Thank you for that. But you appear to be uncaring whether you won or lost. So, I can only assume that whoever you came to the Palace intending to meet, will be joining our party before too long.”
The lie of denial froze on Alia’s lips, her hunter’s instinct flaring. Her attention flicking back to the arriving aristos. Regal had just stepped out of the massive double doors, pausing upon the upper most step for a moment, the sun framing him just right. An angel had descended from the heavens. The murmur of appreciation from the ladies, both young and old, surged almost to a momentary roar. Whispers that were far from discreet came to them on a wave. Who is that? Every woman present wanted to know.
“Him?” Noting Alia’s response to the newcomer paused at the top of the marble staircase. Clearly posing. They were nearing the tents, Talac intentionally slowing their progress even more, so he could take the man’s measure. Drinking in every detail before shifting his gaze back to Alia. “Him?” He asked again, but didn’t seem to actually expect an answer, searching Alia’s face for it instead. He’d suggested before that he could read her tells, so she desperately attempted to keep her expression as bland as possible.
Damn, watching as the corner of Talac’s mouth quirked up ever so slightly. He thought he knew something. Crud, he couldn’t have guessed merely looking at her, could he? No one was that good. And she was a master at hiding her feelings and intent. Still, Talac’s slight smile, as if he’d uncovered yet another of her secrets made Alia feel distinctly uncomfortable.
She needed some distance from Talac’s too observant gaze. And a better vantage point from which to observe Regal surreptitiously from a distance, take his stock, identify any obvious weaknesses. Perri was no doubt already doing the same right at his moment. Gathering information, plotting exactly how they should approach Regal, expose him… destroy him.
Where was Perri? The hunt had begun and her sister might already have instructions for Alia regarding what their first move should be.
If possible, Talac’s slight smile quirked upwards by a degree or two. Smug man. Alia wouldn’t fall for his tricks. He knew nothing of their plans. “Your Highness.” They had reached the tents, his escort duties were accomplished. Pulling her arm away from his, nodding her head in thanks.
Talac bowed slightly in response. “Lady Alia.” Leaning forward, dropping his voice to a mere whisper so only she would hear his next words. “Let me know if you need help in disposing of the body.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Him? Him?” Brandth stood directly behind Perri. Thankfully, given the intense speculation that swept through all the ladies at Regal’s appearance, no one heard him over the exchange of whispered gossip and flapping of fans.
Elbowing Brandth in the gut was an automatic response on Perri’s part. He shouldn’t have snuck up on her. Although, if she hadn’t been so fixated upon the new arrivals, all but holding her breath in equal parts anticipation and dread, then she could have dodged Brandth’s approach and found a safer, better observation spot.
