“Very.”
“I know little of your neighbour, Soutner.” Well, he hadn’t known much yesterday, but Talac’s network of intelligence had since filled in a few gaps. And the discreet watchers he’d posted to monitor the Baron and his men were constantly relaying new information. “Ninth of thirteen children, with seven older brothers. And the family has such a tragic history of accidents and the like. It almost defies the odds the man has now assumed the title.”
“I’ve come to realise that Regal is a man who creates his own destiny, and plays a very long game.”
“Behind those pretty blue eyes and angelic looks he’s now seething with rage. Was it wise to step forward and pin a target upon yourself and your sister?”
“Regal has a son, his heir, my nephew, there appears to be nothing wrong with the boy except he limps due to a childhood injury. Regal… despises imperfection. I recall now, during our youth, that Regal’s hounds never grew to an old age. Read into that what you will. And that there were always new faces amongst the Soutner staff, very few old retainers. Loyal servants don’t just up and leave, not after decades of service. They take a pension and enjoy their retirement.”
“You think Soutner started out hurting… killing his pets and then moved onto anyone he deemed feeble and old?”
“Knowing him as we do now, yes. Though we had no clue at the time, would never have even considered it. He was a truly beautiful boy. Doted on by his mother. Spoilt by their servants. But as you said, the family were dogged by tragic accidents. First, Parvel, only a year older than Regal. He died in a bog when he was ten. Slipped and fell in whilst he and Regal were out fishing and exploring.”
“One down.”
“Just so. And the wailing, tears, words of recrimination that Regal emoted, you would have sworn that in a heartbeat he would have traded places with Parvel if he could have. That he had done everything in his power that day to try and save his brother.”
“Probably the one who pushed him in.”
“Perhaps. Or maybe Parvel just slipped that day, a genuine accident, and Regal did nothing but stand back, watch and wait. Smart enough to splash himself with mud and cry crocodile tears. And he was smart, truly diabolical in fact. Willing to wait two years before striking again. Sixteen year old Felstap was next. How that spiked acorn got under his saddle was never fully explained. Naturally we all assumed it had been an awful accident. Lucky for Felstap he only broke an arm and a leg when the horse bucked him. Our medics travelled to Soutner lands to tend him, advising he should recover fully but would require six weeks of bed rest. Imagine the shock ten days later when the maid went to rouse Felstap and he’d expired during the night.”
“Poison or just a pillow over the face would have done it. Or perhaps a combination of the two.”
“And the thing of it is, I vividly recall Perri comforting Regal, telling me how he was putting on a brave face but inside he was crushed. And how it was unfair of Baron Soutner to hire a very strict tutor for the boys in the days following their brother’s death. One who rode Regal rather harshly.”
“His father knew?”
“I think he suspected, or had begun to. Things were quiet for the next few years. The oldest boy, Adeene, married and embarked on a year long honeymoon cruise with his bride. A year later the next in line, Magnus married. Ours is a harsh part of the Realm. It’s not unheard of to marry young. But looking back, I think the Baron was trying to push Regal so far down the inheritance line that he would begin to realise his machinations were futile.” Alia ceased talking as a flash of white caught her attention. Miss Jacquene had stopped at the edge of empty space surrounding her and Talac, straightening her shoulders, fixing a smile in place before barrelling forward. Her white flounced gown glaringly bright and bridal under the afternoon sunshine.
“The archery competition is due to start, Your Highness. I’ve heard you excel at the sport and would be most grateful if you would act as my teacher.” Eyelashes fluttering faster than her fan.
Talac turned, the suddenly haughty expression on his face could have been hewn from stone. Alia found her stomach dipping, she missed the sparkle in his eyes, the animation on his face when he assumed his Princely mantle.
“The others might accuse us of cheating, I’m afraid. According to my grandmother my role in today’s event is to hand out the trophy to the winner. All I can do is wish you good fortune, Miss Jacquene.” Dismissing her with a curt bow, Talac turned his attention back to Alia, dropping his voice to a rough whisper. “Hurry up and win this cursed thing. I want to hear the rest of your story.”
“As you command, Your Highness.”
He knew she was mocking his high handedness, but damn, if he didn’t like to hear those words drop from Alia’s full mouth. As he commanded. Naturally, a spirited woman such as Alia would never readily submit to a controlling hand. And the idea of her saying yes to him all the time, because of who he was, Prince of the Realm, was abhorrent.
But if she chose to follow his instruction… and perhaps issued a few commands of her own? Hhmmm, perhaps admire was the wrong word for what he felt for Alia. Talac had an inkling that – desire – might perhaps be a much more accurate term for his feelings. By the nine circles of hell, things had just gotten very, very complicated.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Are you even listening to me?”
“Of course. I can do two things at once, look out this window and listen to you. Go on, the second brother just died. What happened next?” Brandth squinted, was that Perri? No, just Lady Parkour’s second youngest sister returning from a day of shopping, trailed by two servants heavily laden with parcels. The sun was going down. Where the hell was Perri? He’d watched her head off earlier in the day with the mute lad, Deacon, and a boy with a limp, whose hair glinted like fire in the sunlight just like Perri’s. Her son? Just what was she up to?
“Our conversation was interrupted at that point. In order to resume it Alia had to win the archery competition, doing so in record time no less. Which meant she could join me on the trophy podium where we waited together for the remaining bridal candidates to finish.”
There was something in Talac’s tone. Enough to make Brandth glance his way quickly before returning his gaze to the main throughfare leading from the Palace to the adjacent city of Pallene. A trace of smugness? No, pride. He was impressed with Alia’s skills.
“And?”
“Six arrows, six bullseyes.”
“Not the competition, the angelic bastard’s history, what more do we know?”
“Oh. Between the strict tutor and his father, it appears Regal buckled under. No more deaths. No more aged pet hounds disappearing. A sister or two leaving to be married. Turning twenty, Regal declared his love for Perri, and promptly married her on her seventeenth birthday. Within a year they welcomed their first child, a boy. Father said to be overjoyed. But so very respectful of his wife now, that he insisted they have separate rooms. Perri assumed this was normal. Her husband whilst a little distant from the child in private, played the proud papa in public. Proclaiming for all to hear that he was the luckiest man alive to be so blessed. All the while showering Perri with compliments and professing his devotion to her. In hindsight, she realises he was twisting those compliments. Making little digs in the guise of jokes about her post-baby figure, her appearance, the amount of affection she showered on the child rather than him. Perri proceeded to work doubly hard at showing Regal she loved him. Making his clothes for him personally. Overseeing his bath. Wearing only colours he liked. Requesting foods be made that only he liked.”
