Trisha Wolfe: Fireblood

I pry my eyes away from the knight’s scrutiny and drag them slowly across the lush vegetation. Large stone planters of palms, gardenias, and exotic plants I can’t name fill the open, airy room. A makeshift waterfall flows over jutting rocks into a cement pond. Lily pads and water poppies float along its rippling surface. Finally, reluctantly, I bring my gaze to the prince.

He stands straight, his hands clamped behind his back, forcing his shoulders square and himself to his full, lofty height. Notably, only a couple inches shorter than Devlan. His soft, boyish features brighten as he appraises me, and a smile hikes one side of his full lips. “At last, Zara.” He walks two steps closer to me. “We meet.” He unlaces his hands and holds one out to me. A platinum band with a jewel shaped into the Hart crest adorns his right ring finger.

I remind myself of my purpose: convince him I’m but an enamored maiden, and keep him from suspecting my goal. I insert my hand into his upturned palm. It’s soft, warm, and engulfs mine. “My lord.” I give a poorly executed curtsy.

He brings my hand to his lips and places a lingering kiss on its back. His golden eyes look into mine. “Please. I’d like there to be few formalities between us.” He releases my hand to brush an escaped blond lock from his eyes. “I’d love for you to call me by my given name, Sebastian. To hear it daily from your lovely lips would inspire me.”

Dumbfounded, I part my lips, then clamp my mouth closed. Convincing him may not be as easy as I thought. He obviously has a way with the maidens, and is used to charming the skirts off them. What would one of the courtiers do with his flattery? Flirt back? That seems pointless, as we’re to be betrothed by this evening. He’s won, and he didn’t even have an opposing suitor to play against.

Instead of responding, I give him a bemused smile, hoping he’ll be content with having an effect on me. It seems to work as he returns it, then guides me to a white linen-topped table.

My eyes dance around the room, seeking windows, doors, openings—a way out of this castle. Trying to center my thoughts, I put my attention back on the prince. For now, I need to be smart and stay focused on him. There will be time later to wander and explore.

The trickle of the waterfall fills the room as servants pull out our chairs. Sebastian sits, and I smooth the back of my gown and settle onto the seat. He looks to me, and his light-brown eyes—so bright they shine gold—roam the features of my face.

He takes a sip of water from the goblet before him, then wipes his mouth with the tablecloth. “I know you’ve just arrived,” he says, leaning back in his chair, “and would probably like to get to know the grounds, but I was hoping you’d attend my joust practice on the morrow. Though I’m sure practice is a waste of time, I love the action of the sport.” A confident grin crooks his lips, and he continues when I say nothing. “Don’t worry. No one will unhorse me at the upcoming tournament. They didn’t last year, or the year before.”

I take a sip from my own goblet, stalling for time to think on how to respond. “Of course, my lord. I’d be honored to attend.”

He shakes his head, his dirty-blond waves bounce. “Again, do call me Sebastian.”

“I’m sorry.” I want to kick myself; I’m already messing up. “It’s difficult after being so accustomed.”

His lips widen into a knowing smile. “Well, let’s make sure to break free of some of those customs.” He winks.

My skin crawls. I hope he’s not insinuating what I think he is. Even so, I plan to be far away from here before the wedding. Attempting to keep up with his unsettling flattery, I smile again.

There are things I must know, like why I was chosen, but I’m unsure how to broach the topic. I brace myself with a sharp intake of air and say, “Sebastian.” I pause after testing the feel of his name on my tongue. “May I ask a question of you?”

“Anything.”

I straighten my back. “I’m so very honored to be chosen among all the eligible maidens of Karm, but…” I falter.

“But why were you chosen?” he finishes for me.

Relieved, I nod. “Yes, my lor—Sebastian. I’m but a simple girl who works on a cloning farm with her father, I…” I trail off, seeing my blunder in his darkening eyes. I’ve mentioned my father. A Taken.

Sebastian’s eyebrows draw together, and the corners of his eyes crease. “Zara,” he says my name not as warmly this time. “Even raised in the country, I assume you were not denied etiquette classes.”

“Nay,” I snap. “I was not. But it was only yesterday that he was—”

“Enough.” He holds up his hand and looks down at his empty plate. My whole body recoils at his harsh command. He glances around the atrium. “Where is that damned servant? Our plates are getting cold.”

I reach out and touch my plate. It’s warm. Heated porcelain to hold your food so your meal stays hot. The ridiculous luxury is almost as infuriating as him silencing me. I wait for him to at least answer my question, but it seems he’s forgotten it, apparently vexed.

I open my mouth to try to coax him into the conversation again, but a loud crackling disrupts the room. Startled, I flinch.

“’Tis only Sir Devlan’s communicator, Zara,” Sebastian says.

The knight pulls a silver device from his uniform vest and holds it before his mouth. “Devlan.”

There is more static, and then a deep voice sounds over the shiny device. “Kyle Levine has been brought in.” Static. “Does the prince wish to oversee the questioning procedure?”

My chest flutters at the mention of the apothecary. Why has he been brought in? Fear coils in my stomach and I grip my dress, my arms aching from the tension. Devlan looks to Sebastian and I follow his gaze.

Sebastian pushes his chair back and stands. “Yes, I do,” he says. Then to me, “I’m sorry, Zara. I have to depart for now, but I hope to see you again before the betrothal ceremony.” He forces a smile. “Devlan will appoint you a guard and have you escorted there and, in the meantime, show you around Court.”

I stand beside him. “Is everything all right?” I know I’m overstepping my bounds, but I don’t like the sound of this “questioning procedure.”

Sebastian casts an unsure glance at Devlan. “I suppose the princess must become accustomed to castle life soon enough.”

Devlan’s brow creases. “My lord, surely not on her first day.” He checks himself, squaring his shoulders and lowering his head. “Pardon me, Your Highness. I was merely thinking of—”

“Nay. You’re right, of course.” Sebastian runs a finger over his chin. “Show Zara out the back way so she doesn’t hear.”

“Hear what?” I glance between them. “What’s happening?”

Sebastian takes my hand in his. “I presume in the country you don’t hear much about the affairs of state, but there is a network working to overthrow our realm. I believe this Kyle Levine has information, and we must convince him to share it.” He grimaces. “Until later.”

With that, he places a kiss on my hand and hurries out of the atrium.

I turn to Devlan. “Take me there,” I demand. “I know this man. He is no traitor, and I will speak for him.”

His dark eyebrows crawl up his forehead. “Princess, this is not a trial.”

Of course it’s not. There are no trials in Karm. Pulling my shoulders back, I bring all of my five feet, two inches before him. “Regardless, I want to be privy to the happenings in Court.”

He shakes his head. “I promise you, Princess. You do not.” He waves his hand toward a giant glass door at the back of the atrium. “Come. I’ll show you the garden. A lady would enjoy a stroll among the flowers more than the business of men.”