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As the guards dragged the weeping, flailing dignitary from the room, they had to jerk to a halt and pause when another man stumbled through the entrance, blocking their path.
Yawning and scratching his chest as he came, the newcomer eyed the trio impatiently before stepping aside to allow them departure, waving his hands in dramatic sarcasm for them to go first. Then he reached between his legs and grabbed himself, leering after them, before he swaggered across the floor toward his own seat of honor to the left of the throne, finally gaining the king’s attention.
“Greggor!” my father greeted his dearest companion and top advisor with a relieved sigh. “Where the hell have you been, old chap? I’ve been surrounded by imbeciles in here.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that, Tor; the imbeciles had a point, if you ask me.” Groaning in pleasure, Greggor fell into his cushioned chair, hooked his legs over one armrest, and rested his arm on the other to get comfortable before languidly returning his gaze to the king. “We’ll incite High Cliff by taking their princess from Donnelly. Then you’ll have two realms after your head. Not to mention Donnelly has that dragon. Do you really wish to risk all that just because you couldn’t throw another boy?”
Ignoring the insult against himself, the king waved an unconcerned hand. “My sources tell me the Donnelly dragon’s dead.”
“Fine then.” Greggor belched and picked up an apple from his side table before dusting it off against his chest and biting into it. “Start a war with Donnelly. Who am I to deny the most powerful man in the kingdom?” After winking at the king for his mocking flare over the title, he inadvertently spit apple chunks when he added, “But seriously, don’t take Brentley’s wife. High Cliff won’t be as feverish to join the fray if you choose someone other than their precious princess to mutilate.”
The king scowled at him. “Then who do I take?”
Greggor tapped the apple thoughtfully against his chin before holding it up. “I’d say the best bet would be the Donnelly princess, not the High Cliff one. They say Brentley’s young sister is quite a treasure. Beautiful, intoxicating, and kind. She must be adored by both her people and the king himself. He’d be outraged and heartbroken all in one if we stole her and raped her of her pretty, polished glow. Why, her big brother might never recover.”
“The Donnelly princess, you say? Not their queen?” The king squinted through a considering nod. “I wasn’t even aware there was one.” Then he clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “But I like this. Yes, let’s kidnap Princess whatever-her-name-is.”
Greggor smirked in amusement. “It’s Nicolette, I believe.”
Nicolette?
Pulling back, I blinked in shock because I knew Nicolette. Barely, but still…
Recognition poured through me as my father waved a hand. “Whatever. Just get her to me. I want to be personally involved in paying her back for what her brother did to my son. Hell, maybe I can grow a male in her belly.”
Shuddering, I eased deeper behind the tapestry as my mind reeled.
Nicolette.
I guess she had told me she was the king’s sister, but it hadn’t registered that she was the princess Greggor and my father were discussing until they’d said her actual name.
At the time of our whirlwind introduction, I’d been too swept away by the energy and life in her dark brown eyes to truly comprehend who she was. My savior in a nightdress and dark flowing hair had snatched me from the jaws of death and led me out of the Donnelly castle mere moments before I would’ve been executed.
The night our army had first invaded Donnelly, and the very same night my half brother, Murdock, had lost his life, I’d been captured and chained with a dozen other soldiers. We’d been held in their dungeon for hours before we were paraded in front of their new king.
Donnelly had promised to grant us clemency if we would only bend the knee and place our allegiance to him. Most of the others had given in immediately, kneeling before King Brentley and bowing their heads, becoming traitors to Far Shore.
But I hadn’t. How could I? What would my father have done if he learned I’d decided to serve another kingdom instead of his? No, it would’ve been much nobler to die loyal to his name. Maybe he would’ve been proud of me then, possibly even commissioned a small statue in my honor—as he had for Murdock—and claimed me as his son postmortem.
Before I knew it, though, some stranger commanded that I be separated from the others. He then led me away to the lovely, exotic Nicolette of Donnelly who’d freed me from my chains.
As soon as she’d torn the metal cuffs from my wrists, she had touched my face tenderly. “You don’t have to understand. Just know that I love you with every breath of air in my lungs, and I’ll do everything within my power to make sure you live.”
She’d obviously been soft in the head. Her ignorant guard must’ve been sleeping on the job, and she’d escaped her room to roam the castle a little too freely. Or something. Whatever the case, it mattered little in that moment, because a man didn’t just forget something so bizarre and baffling.
While most of that night had been a blur, those few moments with her had stuck with me. They’d confused the devil out of me, but they’d stuck. Because the dazzling stranger had kept her promise. I had lived that night.
She saved me.
I had worn myself to the bone, hiking through the Vast Desert for days before I set foot on Far Shore land again in order to return home. All because the girl who’d called herself my one true love had given me the chance to make it.
I owed my life to her.
Listening to my father and Greggor discuss capturing and torturing her set off an uneasy churn in my stomach.
From what I remembered, Nicolette had been sweet and innocent and way too gentle to mar in the vicious way they were describing.
“I hope she’s untried,” the king was saying, his lips spreading wide with lascivious delight as he rubbed his hands together greedily. “I want to be the first to breach her maidenhead, show her what a true cock feels like.”
