The men lifted her to her feet, shouting questions at her that she could not understand. She tried to explain herself, helplessly, but the words that fell from her mouth made no sense in any language.
Sedrak was in front of her suddenly, approaching the group, pulling furs about his shoulders, sword in hand and drawn. When he saw her his face filled with anger.
“What is the meaning of this?” he hollered.
He was looking at his guards.
“She was escaping, my lord,” said the guard who held her fiercely on her arm. She glanced at him and saw he was the gray-haired man.
Sedrak growled. “Release her.”
“My lord—”
“Release her!” he bellowed. “That is Leola Grace, the Southern princess!”
The men released her arms quickly and distanced themselves from her, as though she had a disease.
“You!” Sedrak said, pointing to her chest, and Leola felt as if his finger went through her heart. “To my tent! Go.” She stumbled toward him, head hanging, and walked toward the tent, brushing dirt from her dress. She heard the men behind her speaking in low voices.
“I shall deal with her,” Sedrak barked.
“My lord,” a calm voice said. “I pray to the gods you are not making a costly mistake.”
Leola heard a hard thump and the gasp of air being punched from a man’s ribs, and fear gripped her. She turned to see a man falling to the ground, Sedrak standing over him.
“I am the king. Do not forget yourself,” she heard Sedrak spit.
Leola hurried into his tent, heart pounding.
* * *
He threw open the flap and Leola cowered, tripping on the furs of his bed and falling to them. Terror gripped her so that she could not speak; when Sedrak was angry, he was a frightening man.
“What in the name of the gods were you doing?” he seethed.
She shook her head, and though she did not want to, she began to cry.
“Explain yourself, Leola Grace! Or you shall be punished soundly!”
“I was coming,” she choked. “To see you. Barval was asleep…” A fat tear dropped from her eye.
Sedrak was still breathing heavily. He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity.
“I was afraid,” Leola said helplessly, when he said nothing.
“Coming to see me?” Sedrak repeated. “Afraid? Of what in the name of gods, what is there to be more afraid of than creeping about in a warrior’s camp in the dead of night by the tent of the king’s bride?”
Leola was caught speechless again. She stared at him with her mouth open.
“Had you not been wearing a dress, and they hadn’t seen you at the feast, you would have been killed on the spot, you stupid, stupid, girl!” he yelled.
Another wave of tears spilled from her eyes.
Sedrak approached her and fell to his knees next to her. “Leola,” he said, pulling her close to him. “What in gods were you doing?”
She gripped his arm. “I don’t know,” she sobbed. “I thought… Dorva told me something, and I thought that maybe… I heard you arguing with your men, I thought perhaps you would not do as you said…” she sniffled.
But her mind had been left behind, lingering on another sentence Sedrak had uttered.
