Wyneth’s blood raced at the flattery of hearing that from a man like him. But it wasn’t as simple as he was making it out to be. “I only just finished telling you I’ve lost the man I was to marry. My heart . . . still aches.”
He appeared crestfallen. “I’m sorry, Lady Wyneth. I thought it might help.”
Oh, the logic of a man, Wyneth thought. “What’s more, Lord Alvi, if you kill the beast you’ll be granted the hand of my cousin. My best friend!”
Wyneth was still in shock that he’d kissed her, this man she scarcely knew, and that she’d been so completely willing.Being so near him, she felt the lingering lust burning under her skin, and the churn of guilt in her gut. It was the worst kind of situation. Couldn’t he see that?
Apparently not, based on his easy smile. “Life is for living, Lady Wyneth. You needn’t feel guilty or worried. Fate will intervene to make things right, when necessary. I hope to see you this evening before the hunt.” He brought a massive hand to her hair and let his palm and fingers stroke a lone curl.
Her chest was still heaving as he walked away.
Blasted “fate.” Outlandish notions.
Wyneth grasped her gray skirts and marched back to the castle through crunching leaves and dry pine needles, overrun by a maelstrom of thoughts. She was quite certain that kissing one of her cousin’s suitors mere months after the death of her fiancé was not fate. It was simply one man acting on an inappropriate urge. She was ashamed that her first reaction had been to welcome his touch instead of thwarting it.
She felt utterly alone. Wyneth could never tell Aerity. She could never tell anyone.
As she burst into the castle, a gust of wind at her back, she could still feel Lord Lief Alvi’s firm lips against hers. She avoided the eyes of the guards as she passed, bringing a hand to her mouth to hold on to the feel of Lief’s kiss for a moment longer.
Just a moment more, and then she’d put him from her mind.
Chapter
20
After her studies, Aerity donned her leotard and a soft pullover tunic. Another day had passed, and the beast was still at large. The only good thing to happen was that the king was feeling a bit more comfortable about letting his children out of the castle during daylight to places other than just the commons. The hunters’ presence seemed to make everyone feel safer. The beast had never attacked or been seen during the day, and it hadn’t set foot on royal lands since the night it took Breckon’s life.
At least not that they knew.
Vixie had sprinted from the doors toward the stables, her guards racing to keep up. Donubhan and several of their young cousins were accompanied by maids and guards downto the royal beach where they could dig for sandcrabs and enjoy the autumn sun a bit before winter began to show its face.
Flanked by several guards, Aerity headed the back way to the side of the castle, avoiding the entrance of the commons. The giant oak tree loomed, awaiting her company, with magenta silks hanging from a high, thick branch. The guards kept their distance, making a square around the tree. She hardly registered their quiet presence anymore. She gave the silks a tug to be sure everything was sturdy before taking off her tunic and dropping it to the ground.
This was Aerity’s favorite silk. Rather than two separate strands, this one was connected, making a U at the bottom like a hammock. Aerity held the silks up high and lifted her knees, sliding her pointed feet through the gap, feeling the burn of her abdominal muscles. She hung upside down a moment by her knees, letting the tips of her hair drag along the ground, twisting side to side to warm up and stretch. Then she lifted herself until she was sitting in the silks, like a swing.
A breeze blew and Aerity looked up at the rays of sunshine shooting through the canopy of yellow and orange leaves. In that moment, there seemed to be peace in the land, but an ache deep in Aerity’s gut reminded her that all was not well—that all might never be truly well for her again, even after this monster was killed. She pulled herself to standing, the silks pressing into the bare arches of her feet. Then she let her body take over in a series of climbs and wraps, twisting andstretching, leaning her body in unnatural ways that pushed her flexibility to the limits. She split her legs and struck an upside-down pose, where she hung by her hips, her whole body tight to keep balanced. With a twist of her waist, she spun, her arms and legs out, hair flying.
Nearby cheers sounded, causing Aerity’s core to momentarily loosen and make her wobble. She reached up and pulled herself quickly to sitting, turning her head to see her audience—nearly all the hunters had climbed the side wall where the wooden risers were, and were sitting on top of the stones, watching her. She became acutely aware of her tight leggings and leotard.
“Don’t stop on account of us, Princess!” Tiern yelled.
Her face flushed as men of all nationalities smiled up at her, clapping. The Zandalee women cupped their hands around their mouths and let out keening sounds. She gave them all a small wave, feeling exposed.
Then Aerity’s eyes caught the still form of Paxton on the end beside Tiern. He leaned his elbows on his knees, watching her with his unreadable stare. Those dark eyes made her feel more than exposed. She felt naked.
Despite their protests, Aerity slid down from the silks and grabbed her tunic. She walked quickly toward the castle, giving a polite smile in their general direction before she disappeared.
“Deep seas, she’s something, isn’t she?” Tiern raved. “Did you see her, Pax? And when she walked off, all bashful like? Adorable! Did you see?”
“Aye, I’ve got eyes, don’t I?” Paxton had seen, all right. And he’d heard every word the bloody Ascomannians had muttered in lewd laughter out of earshot of the guards. He thought there’d be a fight between Harrison and one of the men when the lieutenant told him to shut his mouth, but Lief had defused the situation, making them all laugh with a story about a coldlands woman who’d dumped her ale over the man’s head when he’d commented on her bottom.
Paxton didn’t move a muscle, even after the other hunters climbed down and went about their business. The Zandalee three jumped from their high perches into the field with the oak tree, landing in impressive crouches. He stared absently as they took turns on that fabric thing. Judging by the way they struggled and grunted, it must have been harder than it looked.
Aerity had made it look easy. He thought about that morning in the infirmary, the way she’d hugged Mrs. Rathbrook and kissed the woman’s cheek. It was one thing to be polite to a Lashed, which few were, but to show that level of affection? It had taken him completely by surprise. Aerity was the future of this kingdom—she’d someday be queen. She could change these lands for the better. Was there hope to be had after all? Paxton gave his head a shake.
He turned and hung his feet over, facing the commons area, and dropped to the rows of seating below.
Lord Lief Alvi was waiting for him at the bottom. They clasped hands when Paxton reached him.
