Page 56 of The Masked Princess

CHAPTER 42

Despite what he told Annalise, Soren kept the romance novel tucked under his coat and didn’t remove it until the next day, when he was lounging in one of the barrack recreation rooms. He hadn’t read for fun in longer than he could remember, and while the book in front of him seemed to have a bit more focus on feelings and relationships than he preferred considering how it made him ache for Annalise, the story itself was an engaging way to pass the time.

Almost immediately after she’d returned to her room the day before, she’d started reading out loud from one of the history books under the pretense of educating herself and her maids. From his vantage point where he stood guard—she’d insisted on keeping the door to her chambers open—Soren appreciated the history lesson, and noticed that even the other Rhinnean guard seemed to nod along during some of the more interesting parts.

He wrenched his thoughts away from the sweet, genteel sound of her voice. He knew he had to give Annalise up—she’d been quite adamant he let her go—but the thought of her belonging to another man felt like a stab in the gut.

With a snort, he turned his mind back to the pages at hand.

“I didn’t know that Doveans could read.”

He looked up in surprise to find a young lady watching him. Her long dark hair was piled high on her head, styled in a waterfall of curls, and her dress was the light blue of an icy spring.

“Oh, I don’t, I’m just looking at the pretty pictures so I’m not tempted to eat the pages,” Soren replied, holding up the book so she could see that there were in fact no pictures at all lest she think his jesting was serious. Many of the Rhinneans didn’t understand his jokes, a side effect he suspected of having a king whose only sense of humor revolved around causing others pain and embarrassment.

He was rewarded with a laugh that sounded like the ringing of a small bell, and the lady gestured to the chair sitting next to his. “Would you mind if I sat here while I wait for my father? He’s in a meeting.”

Soren nodded.

She took the seat and smiled at him. “Thank you. My name is Lady Dakoa Wethernon; I’m afraid that I didn’t catch your name.”

“Kierson. Captain Kierson,” he said gruffly before returning to his reading. He’d heard whispers of the Rhinnean women who spent time in the parts of the barracks open to the semi-public, ostensibly to watch the men from the windows overlooking the training grounds, but in reality to find husbands from among the eligible bachelors. Far be it from him to prevent someone else from falling in love.

After a few minutes of silence, Lady Dakoa leaned closer to him and asked what he was reading.

He showed her, and she tittered in delight. “Oh, how fun! I loved that book, but I fear it’s been so long since I heard it. Would you do me a favor, Captain Kierson, and read my favorite part to me?”

“I fear that my narration skills are frightful, although I can lend you this book if you would rather read it yourself as you sit here?” Soren asked, moving to close the book.

“Oh no, don’t mind me. I was just hoping to hear it from someone else.” She batted her large brown eyes at Soren, and he deduced she wouldn’t give up on her request easily.

“Which part was it?” he asked, reasoning that perhaps the best way to move on from Annalise would be to find someone else who might be more able to return his affections.

She recited a specific chapter number, and Soren flipped to it. He noted with some alarm that it was near the end of the book, and he hoped that his chivalry wouldn’t be rewarded with a spoiled ending.

It was the wrong thing to worry about.

He began reading, but after a couple of paragraphs, his voice trailed off and his cheeks felt like someone had lit them on fire. The words swimming in front of his eyes were of such an explicit nature he feared merely looking at them would cause the page to burst into flame.

“Is there a problem, Captain Kierson?” Lady Dakoa asked, leaning forward and calling attention to the low-cut neckline of her dress, which displayed her assets very nicely.

Soren’s gaze flicked from her bright eyes and parted red lips down to her heaving chest, then up at the ceiling, and he closed the book. “I’m afraid that I’ve suddenly remembered that I have very pressing matters that require my urgent attention.”

She pursed her lips and looked him up and down. “Are these matters something that I could help you with?”

His face flushed red at her question and the implication behind it. “Absolutely not.” His voice came out much rougher than expected, and he coughed to cover up his discomfort. “It has to do with… uh… the diplomatic relationship between Dovea and Rhinnea. I forgot that our Dovean guards were set to spar with their Rhinnean counterparts tomorrow, and we need to set up logistics. In a meeting. That’s happening right now. Somewhere that’s not here.”

“In that case, you’re already late. Are you sure you can’t tarry here for just a little while longer?”

“Unfortunately, I must go.” Soren thrust the book into her hands. “Here, since you were so interested in the story. I got it from the Royal Library. Just return it when you’re done, please.”

He left Lady Dakoa without another word or look, and kept his head down until he was out of the room and down the hall.

Soren thought nothing further of the strange interaction until the next evening when everyone gathered in the Great Hall for the evening meal.

As the ranking officer of the Dovean guards and a nobleman in his own right, Soren was allowed to sit at a table near the edge of the room with the other Rhinnean guards. The company certainly left something to be desired, but when he was halfway done with his food, a well-muscled middle-aged man took the seat next to him.

“It’s been a long time, Kierson. I see that you’re making friends,” a gruff voice said.