Page 59 of The Masked Princess

“You see,” Soren continued, “Princess Annalise holds a special place in her heart for the poor and disadvantaged. I would prefer that my skin go toward making leather vests for young Rhinnean boys who seek to join your military or rise in the ranks of the castle guards but cannot afford the proper gear.” Soren frowned and tapped his chin with his finger as he balanced on the balls of his feet. “I suppose you could also turn it into a kind of vellum for educational books. Military theory or seafaring would probably be most appropriate considering my line of work, but you could always use it for a romance novel if you wanted to be ironic.”

With a roar, Grenlef lunged at Soren, swinging his sword with enough force to cleave him in two. Soren dodged the attack and ducked under Grenlef’s arm, scoring a cut along his side. It was a move that wouldn’t have worked if they were wearing armor, but their dining wear provided little resistance to the edge of his sword. Grenlef didn’t react to the cut and pressed his attack, closing in on Soren. Instead of dodging again, Soren allowed their swords to lock to test his strength against Grenlef’s. While they strove against each other, he pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully.

“Now that I think about it, I have a question: if you kill me, who will marry your fiancée? It would be a terrible misfortune for Lady Dakoa to lose two suitors in one day.”

“She can rot in her father’s house doomed to a life of loneliness and regret, for all I care. Such a woman has no business bearing my children and polluting our family name with spawn of her filth.” Grenlef spat to the side, and Soren’s face twisted in disgust.

“That’s quite a harsh punishment considering her only crime was reading a book.” With a hard shove, Soren unlocked their swords and pushed Grenlef away. He’d started the match hoping to test his strength against one of the Rhinnean lords over what he’d assumed was a simple misunderstanding, but his opponent was being willfully obtuse and hardheaded, and Soren started to wonder if perhaps Lady Dakoa wasn’t better off with a broken betrothal no matter the outcome.

“Of course, an immoral Dovean like you would see it like that.” Grenlef scoffed. An evil glint in his eye sent a chill down Soren’s spine. “Do all Dovean women hold the same morals as you, then? Was the princess the one who recommended that filthy book to you? Perhaps she’s already practiced the acts recorded there.”

“Bite your tongue before I cut it out,” Soren growled as they closed quarters again to trade blows. He received a cut on his right arm, although Grenlef was the worse for wear with a cut on his cheek when Soren punched him during an opening.

“She acts so prim and proper with her long sleeves and calm demeanor, but I bet under that thin veneer of propriety she’s as wanton as any of the whores who lurk in the underbelly of Rea,” Grenlef muttered low enough that only Soren could hear.

A rush of blood flooded Soren’s face, and he took three large steps back. He trembled with rage, his chest heaving as he struggled to contain his temper, even as he desperately wanted to run Grenlef straight through.

“Tired already, Dovean? I’m not surprised, but I’d hoped for an actual fight out of you,” Grenlef taunted.

Soren ignored the insult. “King Nelan, I wish to amend the rewards of our fight if I win,” he called out.

The king held up a hand to pause the match. “It’s quite unusual to request a change in the midst of your duel, Captain Kierson. What amendments would you wish to make?” he asked.

Soren adjusted the collar of his coat and bent his knees, coiling for his next attack. He’d had his fun, but Grenlef was annoying him. “If I win this in the time it takes a priest to chant the Goddess’s prayer three times in a row, my opponent must apologize to Lady Dakoa Wethernon in front of the entire court for impugning her honor, and she must be given the choice to break the betrothal with no fear of retribution by him, his family, or her father. If she terminates their contract, the Grenlef family must pay her a lump sum equivalent to her dowry as a damages fee to ensure she doesn’t feel pressured to continue with the betrothal out of survival.”

“It’s obvious he’s tired and only stalling for time to recover. I accept his new terms,” Grenlef said with a shrug as he hefted his greatsword as easily as a lady lifting a hairbrush.

King Nelan tapped his lip for a moment and shrugged. “So be it.”

The priest started the first chant, and Soren lunged forward.

CHAPTER 44

Family alliances. Betrothals. Honor. The life of an innocent maiden. Much could change in a handful of breaths.

Annalise sat at the window of her chambers and watched Soren walk through the snowy garden below. It was far too early in the season for the first of the spring flowers and the only green was that of the boughs of the evergreen trees peaking from under their burden of heavy snow. However, the sun was out and the air still, and the lady walking next to Soren was looking up at him like he was a favored son of the Goddess.

It had been two weeks since Soren’s duel, and much had changed. Annalise still wasn’t sure if it was the trouncing the son had received, or if it was the shame of Lady Dakoa immediately breaking their betrothal, but the Grenlef family hadn’t shown their faces at court since, and there were rumors that the family patriarch was considering disinheriting his son.

Soren threw his head back and laughed. Annalise’s hand tightened on the windowsill when she saw how pleased the lady walking with him looked. She allowed herself to feel the jealousy churning in her gut for three breaths, and then she forced her hand to relax. At just that moment, Soren looked up at her window and when he made eye contact, smiled and dipped his head in acknowledgment. Annalise returned his nod with a smile, then leaned back in her chair to return to her studies, pretending her stomach didn’t feel like it was full of butterflies.

She’d learned much over the past two weeks and was almost finished working her way through her second stack of library books. Despite being the future Queen of Rhinnea, she had no real duties and hadn’t yet been granted the privilege to travel through Rea, even with a guard. Instead, she filled the long hours of her days learning as much as she could about the kingdom, reading aloud for both her maids and her guard’s benefit. When her brain was stuffed so full of information she feared it might explode and her voice grew hoarse, as it did now, she took a break and silently read one of the romances from the library.

After he’d soundly defeated the younger Lord Grenlef before the head priest had finished reciting his first chant, Soren’s popularity among the Rhinnean noblewomen skyrocketed. Annalise fully understood why—his amicability, open nature, and willingness to please were a breath of fresh air in the stuffy Rhinnean court. There had even been rumors that he’d been seen returning to the barracks very late and rather disheveled, with a very annoyed Captain Risebach in tow. His new admirers were a good thing—King Nelan, who’d taken to insisting that Annalise call him Nelan in private, seemed pleased that Soren always had a woman hanging on his arm and had even started calling him Captain Kierson instead of ‘that Dovean cur.’

Annalise told herself she was happy for Soren, and yet sometimes she couldn’t quite shake the sense of loss that hung over her like a mourning shawl.

In another time, perhaps in another life, when thousands of Dovean lives weren’t hanging in the balance, she would have gladly given up every benefit of her station if it meant she and Soren could be together.

Tear drops fell on the page of her book, and Annalise wiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand, surreptitiously glancing around to make sure no one saw. She and Soren were still friends. He still told her stories of his time at sea, with occasional colorful commentary from Captain Risebach. He’d also started asking her how she was adjusting to court, and if she’d given any thought on who she would choose for her ladies-in-waiting.

Talking with Soren was easy, and bantering with him was like relaxing in a warm bath. Annalise enjoyed their time together, even if it left her shivering and cold after he left, and her eyes burned watching him twirl court ladies around the Great Hall in the evening. The several hours he spent guarding her every day always flew by too fast and felt tinted in gold, even if he’d not so much as cast a longing look her way since the night before they entered Rea.

When he wasn’t on duty, he was almost constantly surrounded by women. In fact, whenever he stood guard at the door to Annalise’s chambers, there was a large increase in the number of young ladies eager to visit their future queen… although she’d noticed there always seemed to be a problem requiring Soren’s input, and the women spent twice as much time talking to Soren as they did actually getting to know her. Watching them try to appear nonchalant while hanging on every one of Soren’s words would have been funny if Annalise didn’t want to strangle them.

Still, she was a queen-to-be, and she acted every inch the part. She was gracious with the young women and laughed courteously when their mothers suggested that perhaps a Dovean border lord marrying into the Rhinnean nobility could be a good sign of progress for the goodwill between their two peoples. She smiled through the pain and did her best to remain impartial—Soren wasn’t hers, after all, and watching the Rhinnean women maneuver around him helped her differentiate between those who had good intentions and those who tended to manipulation and deceit.

Through it all, Soren’s attitude remained constant. He basked in all the attention, and his jovial nature shone like a warm fire on a cold winter’s day. His smile lit up whatever room he was in, and his presence warmed the space better than any hearth. As the days passed, he seemed to grow more enamored with the Rhinneans. Annalise started to wonder if perhaps the matrons of the court were correct in their tittering, and that he was planning to stay in Rhinnea after her wedding for personal reasons, although she hadn’t mustered the courage to ask him yet.