Sara Larson - Defy

He thrashed on the bed again, his head turning toward me. My breath caught in my lungs, my heart raced beneath my ribs as I stared down at him. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and his lips parted. In sleep, he didn’t look arrogant or spoiled. He almost looked … lost. For one brief moment of insanity, I wondered what it would be like to lie next to him, to comfort him from the demons that apparently chased him at night. To be held against his body in the circle of his strong arms. To have his lips touch mine.

What is wrong with you? I shook my head violently, horrified at the turn in my thoughts. Fantasizing about the prince would have been bad enough if I were a normal girl, but as his guard — whom he thought was a boy ? It was absolutely inexcusable.

My cheeks burning, I hurried to set the letter down on the table closest to him and turned to go. When I was halfway to the door, the floor creaked loudly beneath my foot and I froze, cursing under my breath.

The labored breathing of Prince Damian’s nightmare-ridden sleep halted abruptly. I stayed completely motionless, hoping he’d roll over and go back to sleep. Instead, the bed quietly groaned in protest as he sat up.

“Who goes there? Reveal yourself at once.”

I turned around, lifting my hands in the air, belatedly realizing I still clutched my dagger in one hand. Though the storm had passed, clouds lingered behind, blocking the moon. The window was behind me, but without the moonlight, I could only hope he wouldn’t see the outline of my binding — or my body.

“Alex, is that you?”

“Your Highness, I apologize for disturbing you.” My voice was strained from the effort of hiding my embarrassment. “But the letter you spoke of earlier …” I gestured at his table, where the letter sat unopened.

He glanced at it, then back at me, his expression inscrutable in the darkness. Even though my sight had adjusted, I could barely see his eyes.

“And why, I wonder, did you feel it necessary to deliver the letter with a knife in hand?” The prince’s tone hinged somewhere between curiosity and accusation. I could have sworn I caught him glancing down at my body before quickly looking up at my eyes again.

In one fluid movement, I lowered my hands and slipped the knife back into the sheath on my leg. Would it embarrass or anger him to mention the obvious nightmare he’d been having? I couldn’t come up with a different excuse fast enough, and already the silence had stretched too long. “You cried out in your sleep, sir. I was afraid that you had been attacked again.”

“That would imply a deplorable lack of awareness on your part, if someone had managed to slip past you and get into my room.” He ignored the mention of his crying out in his sleep entirely.

“Sir, the child who brought the letter did so by way of a secret passage — one I was not aware of before this night. I was concerned that another such passageway might exist in your inner chamber.”

“Do I detect a hint of irritation in your voice, almost-captain of mine?”

I cleared my throat, and attempted to rein in what was apparently my obvious frustration. “Sir, my only concern is your safety. If there are passages that allow someone access to you that I’m unaware of, it could lead to a failure to protect you from harm.”

“Ah, I see.”

I tried not to stare at him as silence fell, stretching out to fill the space between us with a strange tension. He sat in his bed, halfway undressed, while I stood in the middle of his room with only a shirt, a binding, and some pants to hide my secret. If I really were a boy, it wouldn’t matter how dressed or undressed either of us were. I wouldn’t have felt breathless from the force of his gaze on me in the darkness. But I wasn’t a boy and I needed to get out of this room before he realized it.

Finally, he lay back down in bed without another word, pulling the sheets over his shoulder and shutting his eyes. When he didn’t say anything else, appearing to have decided to ignore me and go back to sleep, I turned on my heel and rushed for the door.

If he refused to answer my questions, there was obviously something he was hiding. I only hoped it wouldn’t lead to a successful assassination, because if he died, I would, too — for failing in my job to protect him. I grumbled under my breath as I yanked open the door.

“Stupid, stubborn —”

“Good night, Alex.” His voice made me jump and I nearly gasped out loud.

“Good night, sir.” Cheeks flaming, praying I hadn’t spoken loud enough for him to hear, I shut his door.

AFTER A BRIEF sponge bath before the sun rose, hoping no one else would be up so early, I hurried to switch my tunic. I didn’t dare change the binding on my chest; it would take too long. I couldn’t risk someone walking in on me — especially Prince Damian. Not that I would expect him to be up so early, but then again, he seemed to be full of surprises recently.

Voices outside the door to the prince’s chambers alerted me moments before it opened and just as I predicted, Nolen strode in with Deron and Jerrod on his heels.

“The night was uneventful, I take it?” Deron stood in the middle of the room, arms folded across his wide chest. He wore the traditional uniform of Prince Damian’s guard: white tunic, thick vest dyed a deep blue with the emblem of the Antion nation on the right breast — a jaguar crouched on a branch, prepared to attack.

“Yes, sir,” I responded, choosing not to mention the letter or the secret passageway. Or the midnight conversation with the prince. I trusted Deron far more than I trusted Prince Damian, but I had promised not to tell anyone. And there was a part of me that wanted to find out what was really going on before alerting anyone else to the prince’s strange nighttime activities.

“Excellent. Hopefully, you are good and rested, then. The competition will be held starting at noon today.”

“Why would I need to be rested for the competition?” I noticed Jerrod scowling behind Deron. His pale eyes met mine for a moment before he looked away.

“Because the candidates will fight you, of course.”

“The tradition is to fight the captain.”

Deron nodded. “True. However, you beat me. Everyone knows the position technically should have been yours. If you’d been just a few years older, it would have been. The men will fight you, and whoever lasts the longest will join the guard.”

“And the prince?”

“I’ve assigned Jerrod and Asher to stay with him at all times during the tryouts.”

Jerrod’s scowl made more sense now. Everyone knew that he wanted the position of captain someday, and before I came, it had looked like he might be the man to beat for the position — if something happened to Deron. But then I beat Deron. While Deron had taken his loss with grace (although having still retained his position as captain probably helped), Jerrod had treated me with thinly veiled contempt ever since.

And now he was relegated to being a babysitter while I was given the task he probably felt he deserved. Of all the men on the guard, he was the only one who refused to spar with me unless forced. He didn’t like to lose.

“Kai and Jude will spar first, weed out the men, and then we’ll have you fight the best of the bunch. Go grab something to eat and head outside to help Rylan set up the ring and get the gear together.”

I nodded at Deron’s dismissal. After retrieving my own vest and donning it, along with my scabbard and sword, I started to head out.

“Oh, Alex, one more thing.”

I paused and looked back at Deron.

“The girl — the one who attacked Prince Damian yesterday — is sentenced to hang tomorrow morning just after dawn. Rylan said you asked.”