Something about its eternal, restless movement matched what lay inside of her.
Could she ever be still?
She stood several moments watching that seascape, marking the clouds far out over the water.
The hunting venture would end in rain.
But for all its magnificence, the sea was not what she’d come out hoping to glimpse.
Only one figure could satisfy the urging of her heart.
Yet she saw him nowhere. Not with the hunting party that formed up with their ponies just inside the curtain wall. Did he not accompany them, then?
Not in front of the hall or on any of the paths she could see. Not on the shore.
Frustrated and disappointed, she turned to go back inside. That was when she spotted her quarry high up on the inner wall, keeping watch over the country beyond.
Was he, then, in charge of the men? Maintaining the watch to make certain all was safe?
The eternal warrior, perhaps. Strong and vigilant. A man to whom a woman could entrust her heart.
He looked down, and their gazes met. For an instant all the bustle and all the uncertainty faded away.
He did not smile, and nor did she. Too serious, this. Far too vital.
Only slightly comforted and far from meek, she went back inside the keep.
Chapter Twenty
It felt likethe kiss of lightning, being touched by Princess Darlei’s gaze.
Deathan had come out early to make sure the men had their instructions and to watch the hunting party away. He did not go with them, but Rohr did, at Da’s insistence—no doubt in an effort to ingratiate himself with his betrothed’s father.
Best they leave early, for they would have rain before long.
Deathan told himself he did not mind being excluded from the group and being left behind to see to the boring details of life at the keep. And for the most part, he did not. So used to it was he that he turned to those duties for refuge.
The glimpse of Princess Darlei helped. She was still here, and so was he.
He needed to examine what he felt for her. The leap that came to his heart every time he caught sight of her. The power of being in her presence. The way it had felt yesterday up on the cliff top, holding her hand.
As if his fingers had been yearning always for hers.
She is to be my brother’s wife.
He stood with both hands resting on the stones of the wall even after she went inside the keep, those words echoing in his head, swiftly followed by others.
He could not bear it. He could not allow it to happen.
Och, but what had he to say in the matter? The king had made the order. Both men involved—his father and hers—followed that order. Even Rohr could not prevent it.
How did Deathan thinkhecould?
And yet the connection grew inside him and gained strength each time he saw her, every time he thought of her.
She should belong to no one, save him.
Grimly now, he nodded at the last of the men on watch and ran down the narrow stone steps to the front door.
