Vasil’s head dipped and for a moment he looked almost shy. “You are a surprising young man, Cedrych.” The look he gave me wasn’t threaded with lust but with unbearable tenderness, and I didn’t know how to respond. I much preferred the aching in my loins to the one in my chest.
“The archery tournament is set to begin soon, m’lord,” Anika said. She’d been at the front of our retinue, her gaze sweeping back and forth like a hawk.
“Lead the way, Commander,” Vasil responded.
There was a tent reserved for Vasil, myself, and our attendants, apart from the stands and elevated from the archery field by a platform on large wooden beams. We waited at its base while Anika scouted the premises and during that time, another royal retinue approached. The young man at its center was pale and slender with long, snow-white hair that fell quite becomingly around his face. Only his eyes reminded me of Vasil, nearly black and rimmed by flame.
“My cousin Sinclair,” Vasil said as the young man approached and held out one hand, not to Vasil, but to me.
Before I could utter a word, the man said in low velvety purr, “Lord Kazimir of the Kazimir clan. Charmed, I’m sure, as am I. You must be the infamous betrothed. And a fae prince, no less. What a catch, Mercier. I can smell your blood, little prince, sweeter than fae honey.” Sinclair licked his canines, sharp and predatory, and smiled. “So, how does he taste, dear cousin?”
Sinclair’s gaze shifted to Vasil as the lord pulled me backward and angled himself so that I was half-hidden behind him. One of our guards named Erlander eyed the two of them with one hand on the hilt of his sword.
“How’s your mother, Sinclair? Pity she couldn’t make it today,” Vasil said in a voice that could freeze water.
“You know as well as I, someone must stay behind in case some misfortune befalls me.”
“Not on my watch,” said a deep voice.
My gaze slid to the mountain of a man at Sinclair’s side. Human? Or perhaps part giant. With dark auburn hair and a stern expression, his gaze swept our surroundings before landing on Sinclair with gruff affection. The scar that ranthe length of one side of his face only enhanced his rugged handsomeness. With broad shoulders and thighs as thick as tree trunks, he was the sort of man I used to pick fights with, and I had no doubts he would win.
Sinclair laid a delicate hand on the man’s bulging bicep and said, “Surely not, Sir Grantham. I didn’t mean to imply any failing on your part, only that there are murmurings of an uprising amongst the elvish and wouldn’t a tournament be the perfect staging for some nasty bit of business? But never mind that. I was just telling Sir Grantham it’s been too long since we’ve last seen you, dear cousin. Are you well?” Without waiting for a response Sinclair continued in his lilting voice. “It’s so seldom that you entertain these days. But I can see how you are passing the time in that drafty fortress of yours. How delighted you must be to find the prince has grown into such a sturdy, delectable morsel. Are you certain he’s not a spy?”
There were so many speculations and accusations in that brief soliloquy that my head was spinning. Anika returned then with the all-clear and Vasil said, “Commander Farrow, please escort Prince Cedrych to our viewing tent. I’d like to have a word in private with my cousin.”
“Yes, m’lord,” Anika said with a terse nod. Having been effectively dismissed, I followed her up the wooden steps, even though I could have flown up to the platform in half the time. I was trying my best to follow instructions, even while straining my ears to hear the conversation between the vampyre cousins, but their voices were too faint. Curses.
“Is there bad blood between them?” I asked Anika, knowing the answer already.
“Lord Kazimir has behaved poorly in the past and our lord is slow to forgive,” she said in her diplomatic way.
“Do you think the Kazimirs did it? Poisoned Vasil’s parents and Master Kane?”
She shot me a stern look. “My job is to protect Lord Vasil and you, Your Highness, not to speculate. But if you’re keen for some advice, it’d be best for you to stay away from Lord Kazimir. He sows discord and chaos for his own amusement.”
I mulled over her words, then asked, “And who is the giant?”
“Half giant, Your Highness. His name is Sir Grantham Breckon, the son of a decorated general from the War of the Realms. His father fought alongside Lord Vasil’s father but the man perished in battle. His son was sent to the Kazimir clan as a gesture of goodwill and to protect the heir until Lord Kazimir ascended the throne. Sir Grantham is Kazimir’s guard of honor.”
The halfling was Sinclair’s bodyguard? But the way he’d looked at Sinclair seemed more than just an obligation. “Is there something between them?” I asked.
She smiled and shook her head. “Come along, Your Highness, and let me tell you what I know of the archery contestants.”
Chapter 13
Lord Vasil
My cousin Sinclair was insufferable, but I maintained a carefully neutral expression as he went on about my newly betrothed.
“I’m simply concerned for your safety, Mercier. A package that pretty has got to have an ulterior motive. The fae queen is cunning, as you and I both know, and while we may have had our differences in the past, I much prefer having you as my neighbor than some fae despot. You know my second-cousin Luther, the one we call Rush, became so addicted to fae blood that he chased his fae companion all the way to the frozen tundras of the Northern Realm and nearly met his demise, not to mention that contentious negotiation we had to undertake in order to have him returned from a tribe of bloodthirsty ogres. No judgement there, but they really were terribly unrefined. An elvish consort would be far less risky, but surely you must know that, which can only mean the fae prince has bewitched you already? Such a tragedy. Sir Grantham, what do you think? Am I right to caution my dear cousin, beloved sovereign of the elvish?”
I narrowed my eyes at Grantham, a trusted family friend who’d been acting as a spy ever since we sent him to the Kazimir Clan several years ago. Lately, Grantham’s informationhad become increasingly more sparse and his allegiance more questionable.
“Aye,” said the over-large man at his side. “Right as usual, m’lord.”
I huffed at my cousin’s insinuation and tried to allay his fears, however performative. “While I appreciate your concern, Sinclair, I’m confident in my judgment when it comes to Prince Cedrych.”
He waved one hand dismissively. “Well, let it be known that I tried. On to other matters: this is neither the time nor place, but I have something of significance to discuss with you, cousin.”
