AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Denham flicked his wrist in a lazily dismissive gesture. “No need.” He paused only long enough for her to settle back in her seat. “How long were you in Corast before the invasion? How did you come to that particular village? It does seem strange that a woman fleeing her Zrynian oppressors would keep so close to the border.”
Of course it did. But she couldn’t tell him the truth. She wouldn’t tellhimthe truth even if she was of a mind to come clean to anyone. She hadn’t even told Aric yet. Rochelle looked away for a moment, steeling herself. “I think about two months,” she said. “That’s how long I was there. Before that, I … wandered. I don’t have the best sense of direction, and I think I was sick, because eventually I collapsed. I ended up being found with nothing but my underclothes, which is how I was taken into Corast and offered shelter.” It was a weak story, and she felt dumb for lying about what she was found in, but she didn’t want to mention herself naked to this man. She mostly wished she hadn’t even said it the way she had.
Denham frowned faintly at her tale. It was a calculating expression if ever she’d seen one.
“Prince Denham, what a surprise,” Aric said as he entered the room. “When I sensed the door being unlocked, I assumed it was His Majesty who’d come to pay a visit.”
Denham leaned back and his frown deepened. “And you’d keep your King waiting this long?”
Aric stepped up to Rochelle’s side of the sofa, facing the Prince. “Only because I was taking a call, and King Jensen long ago insisted I not treat his visits as urgencies unless he comes to the front door.” He glanced down at Rochelle, the subtlest furrow to his brow, before looking forward again. “It is unusual for Your Highness to come unannounced. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Denham drummed his fingers over the pale ivory surface of the sofa. His gaze snapped back to Rochelle. “This conversation is between myself and Lord Vardanyan,” he said. “You are dismissed.”
Curt though it was, Rochelle didn’t need to be told twice. She hopped to her feet, inclined her head in a quick show of courtesy, and turned for the door. If Aric was upset with her for something, they could talk it out later. Or perhaps that wasn’t what his expression had meant at all.
“Rochelle, was it?” Denham called, causing her to stop beneath the sitting room archway. “Be sure not to speak a word of my presence today to anyone.” The hard look in his eyes brooked no argument.
Rochelle swallowed hard. “Yes, Your Highness.” She didn’t wait for him to speak again before fast-walking away. The next thing she was going to ask Aric to teach her was his teleportation technique. She didn’t care if he insisted it was too advanced, too complicated, or somehow unique to his magical DNA. She couldn’t get away from that room—and that man—fast enough.
****
Covert visits from the elder Prince of Yafae were incredibly unusual. Aric should have been more concerned with the layered meanings of Denham’s appearance in his home. But from the moment he’d walked into that room and realized his guest was not the royal he’d thought, he’d been more concerned with the discomfort emanating off Rochelle. It had distracted him through most of his own conversation with the Prince.
A conversation that was as important as it was confusing.
Four more miniature invasions had occurred along the Yafae-Zrynia border. Four more strange, jagged gouges had been found in the barrier wall. Yet Aric hadn’t been called for a single one. He hadn’t even been notified retroactively. They added up to one a month, all in different locations and terrorizing different communities. They were never carried out with enough manpower to have a hope of counting as a true assault on the kingdom itself. According to Denham, even the assault which had gone entirely unreported until afterward had ended with the Zrynians eventually leaving. Of their own will. As if that were the goal. It made no sense.Noneof it made sense, and Aric was legitimately concerned about what the strange attacks really meant.
He’d been asked to surreptitiously investigate the issue with the border wall. There was a council of sorts in charge of maintaining it and, according to Denham, King Jensen was hesitant to express distrust or disappointment in their skill. But there was clearly a problem. That was where the Sentry came in. How any demand on Aric’s part to answer questions or prioritize solutions wouldn’t seem like an order from the King, indirectly, Aric had no idea. The only distinction he saw was the matter of public spectacle.
In the meantime, he needed to have a conversation with Rochelle. He didn’t like what he’d seen when he’d walked into that room, and he hadn’t shaken the sense of concern that had gripped him since.
He found her on the third floor, in the suite he’d given to her the day he’d brought her to the mansion. He tapped twice on the door before cracking it open and leaning inside. Her aura told him she was awake, so he wasn’t worried about disturbing her. “Rochelle,” he said. “Are you all right?”
She had curled up in the oversized, high-backed chair that sat in the corner of the room, angled to catch the bulk of the day’s light. It was good for reading, or keeping warm, or even looking outside without stepping onto the veranda. Except she had her knees tucked up to her chest and appeared to have been simply sitting there, in some sort of daze, until he spoke.
Her head snapped up and she blinked rapidly.
Aric frowned and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him and crossing the sizable space to crouch down in front of her. “What’s wrong?” He reached out and laid a hand over the one she had curled around her leg. “Did Denham say something to you?”
Rochelle looped her thumb over his hand and drew a shaky breath. “Not really,” she said. “He just … made me uncomfortable.”
Aric ground his teeth for a moment. He’d assumed as much from the tension he’d seen in her earlier, but hearing her admit it sliced through him. He’d allowed a man into his home, a home he’d told her she was safe in, who had then made her feel vulnerable and uncertain. That meant it was his responsibility to fix the problem. He needed to adjust the spell he had over that door, so he could tell whose aura passed through.
“I’m sorry,” Rochelle said. Her tone was hushed, reserved. “I hope I didn’t get you into trouble.”
Aric released a measured exhale and forced his lips upward in an effort to reassure her. “Of course not. You have nothing to apologize for.” He folded her hand between his own and squeezed gently. “Denham’s never used that key before, so his visit was truly unexpected. I’ll adjust the spell over the door to make it more specific.”
A faint dusting of pink colored her cheeks. “You don’t have to do that just for me.”
“Oh, it wouldn’t just be for you,” Aric said, his smile becoming easier. “I don’t like to be caught by surprise. Least of all in my own home.”
Her lips twitched and her warm brown eyes lit with amusement. “Actually, there is something I’d like to ask of you,” she said.
“Is there?” Aric pushed to his feet, using his hold of her hand to tug her up from the chair. She stumbled from the unexpected movement, and he steadied her with a hand on her hip, holding her mere inches from his chest. “You have my attention.” More of it than she even realized, in fact.
Rochelle drew a quiet breath, straightened herself, and met his gaze again. “I want to learn that teleportation spell you invented.”
Aric lifted both brows at her declaration. “That’s not an easy spell,” he said.
