He was quiet a moment and turned away, back toward the door. “I’ll be waiting outside in the hallway. If you’re not out in fifteen minutes, I will be forced to come in and carry you there myself.” The door slammed shut behind him with a heavy thud, his grunt echoing through the empty room.
I glared at him through the door. “Prick,” I mumbled and swung off the bed.
After a quick change and a somewhat futile attempt to tame my unruly hair, I headed out into the hall. It wasn’t perfect, but I didn’t have time to have a maid come and do it properly.
We didn’t speak on our journey from my room to the castle gates, and Jeremy had walked three paces ahead of me the entire time.
He already had horses waiting for us when we arrived, and when I reached for the reins of a beautiful brown and white spotted mare, Jeremy’s hand reached out and stopped me.
“You will be riding with me, Princess. That horse is for the other guard,” Jeremy announced firmly.
My eyes widened in disbelief. “Absolutely not,” I declared. “I am perfectly capable of riding on my own.” I huffed, pushing his hand away.
Sliding my foot into the stirrup, I lifted myself off the ground and swung into the saddle. I smirked triumphantly as I settled into position, reaching for the reins. But before I could grasp them, Jeremy’s body crashed against my back.
In one fluid motion, his powerful arms encircled me, and his hands grabbed the reins. The sudden, unexpected contact left me momentarily stunned. I opened my mouth to protest, but his leg nudged against the horse's flank, and the horse galloped forward, leaving my objections trailing in its wake. Jeremy’s armgrabbed my waist, pressing me firmly against him as the horse galloped on.
“I can ride on my own!” I shouted over the pounding hooves and rushing wind.
His breath tickled my ear as he replied, “Father's orders.”
I huffed in frustration, clenching my jaw.Father’s orders, my ass. What was his deal? My father knows I’m a better rider than most of his men. This had to be some sort of test—or worse, some power move he was trying to pull.
To my right, the other horse, a pure white stallion, came into view, its rider giving me an apologetic shrug and a rueful smile. I shot a withering look at the young guard and turned my gaze forward again.
The captain’s breath tickled my ear again. “There have been rebel sightings near the castle.” His voice was stern when he said it, with no hint of humor, and my eyebrows rose at the information. Rebels? This close to the castle? They have never dared to get so close before…is that why my father and Atticus are leaving?
My mind churned with the information, piecing it together. The rebels hated my father’s taxes, which, to be fair, were steep. Many couldn’t afford to keep their homes or even hold down jobs. My father’s men were often cruel in their enforcement, and while rebellions had sparked up before, they were usually small, confined to the villages, and dealt with by the Dukes and Duchesses. But this—this was different. My father had never had to step in before. That could only mean that the rebellion was much larger than my father had let on.
We slowed as the village came into view, its thatched rooftops peeking over the crest of a hill. We merged onto a cobbled street, and the clatter of the horse’s hooves echoed softly.
Jeremy shifted behind me, making me realize I had subconsciously leaned back into him. I straightened in thesaddle as Jeremy’s quiet chuckle reached my ears, and I bit back a sharp retort.
Jeremy swung off the horse and secured both mounts to the post outside the village tavern. He extended a hand to assist me, but I disregarded it, sliding off the horse with determined grace. I brushed off my dress, smoothing out a few wrinkles, before striding past him and into the tavern.
Booming laughter and lively music filled the air. Patrons were scattered throughout—drinking, talking, gambling, and dancing. It wasn’t my first time at the village tavern, and I recognized many familiar faces. Several villagers called out my name in greeting as I weaved through the crowd, my eyes scanning for my father. I found him seated in the back corner among a group of busty women and Atticus.
Atticus was one of the most intimidating dukes under my father’s command, a man whose presence alone was enough to set me on edge. It wasn’t just his undeniable handsomeness—it was the way he wielded it like a finely honed blade. He knew the power of his allure and made sure everyone else did too.
His jaw was strong and square, offset by high cheekbones that chiseled his features. A straight, perfectly proportioned nose added to the symmetry and his full lips somehow held equal parts charm and threat. His sun-kissed bronze skin carried a warmth that seemed at odds with the cold calculation behind his gaze. His eyes commanded the most attention—stormy depths of dark gray and black, their metallic sheen both haunting and hypnotic.
Framing his face, dark waves of hair tumbled to his chin in a manner that was unruly yet intentional, as though even chaos bowed to his will.
My father raised his glass of ale in my direction, a broad smile lighting up his face as he acknowledged my arrival. “My daughter, Princess Zara!”
The tavern erupted in cheers, and heat rose to my cheeks at the loud introduction.I waved awkwardly, acknowledging the room with a quick smile. Atticus’s gaze stayed fixed on my face as we approached, and I tried not to notice.
Jeremy and the other guard trailed closely behind as I continued to close the distance to my father and the Duke. Atticus was now standing next to the table, having shooed away their other companions.
As I approached, Atticus dipped his head in a small bow, his voice a low rasp as he greeted me. “Zara.”
His metallic gaze caught mine, brief but intense, before flicking to Jeremy over my shoulder. A smirk ghosted across his lips as his eyes returned to me, holding my gaze for a moment too long.
“Duke Atticus,” I replied, inclining my head in return.
He straightened, his eyes moving over me, scanning me in a way that was both familiar and intentional. A deepening smirk twisted his mouth as he spun around and walked into the bustling crowd, leaving behind a trail of unsettling tension that followed him like a shadow.
“Come on, have a seat.” My father beckoned, and I slid into the seat beside him, noting the unusual flush on his face.
