In Which Leara Is Humbled

November 8, 1170

The fire so quickly rekindled from its dying embers that it might have been the result of sheer will. If that was the case, it was a lucky thing that Leara hadn't set the whole room ablaze. Lorn should have arrived an hour earlier; she was both impatient and annoyed, two feelings that she had never before felt toward her sweet, congenial betrothed. What was taking him so long? Why was he making her wait?

She bit off a piece of her fingernail and flicked it toward the hearth. It was not the sort of thing a princess would do, but she couldn't claim to feel much like a princess just then; a princess, after all, would not have been stood up by a duke who claimed to love her.

Seriously, where the hell was that boy? Had he forgotten about their promised ride? Or worse, what if he'd been cornered by some slutty chambermaid on his way out the door? Men! If they were all like that, then it was no wonder her mother had left.

Her thoughts were silenced by a knock at the door. Finally! Leara shot into an upright position and pouted. "Took you long enough, you half-witted excuse for a--"

"Oh, my mistake, your highness--of course you must have been expecting me."

It was not Lorn, but Aldhein. Leara stiffened; her father had ended his exile from the shire some years ago, but she would have thought he'd have the good sense to stay away from the castle. "What do you want?"

She hoisted herself to her feet and stepped in front of him. Exasperated, his frown became an even thinner line. "Look, I know you don't like me and I can assure you that this is the last place on earth I want to be, but this is important. I need to speak to your father right away."

"Well, if you want to speak to my father, then it had better be important." Her hand balled into a fist as those eerie eyes continued to glaze over her. She yanked on her braid to keep herself from driving his fist right into his smug, perfect body that had once made her mother's knees weak. "You slept with my mother."

Aldhein's eyes narrowed; it was unearthly how a just glint of that green was just as overpowering as the full circle. "With all due respect, your highness, that was fifteen years ago--besides, that has nothing to do with the reason I'm here. Where the hell is the king?" Leara said nothing. She responded by means of a cold gaze, which was all she could manage between Lorn's tardiness and Aldhein's presence; Aldhein, however, was imprecise in his reading of her silent message. "This is serious, God damn it--far more serious than your idiot father and your slut mother and whatever the hell I did to them. Just get over yourself and tell me where I can find the king!"

"He's at the baron's keep in Tetran, you impertinent pig!" Leara shrieked. She liked to think of herself as patient woman, but if there had ever been a good day for the man who'd made a cuckold of her father to reprimand her like some foolish child, it was certainly not today; had she been anything but a princess, she might have clawed the bastard's face off. "And how dare you speak to me like that! Get out of my castle!"

The man crossed his arms and sniffed. "Don't think I won't--but before I leave, I have a message for you as well."

"Out with it, then," she hissed, her scalp aching as her grip on the braid tightened.

Aldhein nodded. "The duke sends his apologies, your majesty, but he will not be able to accompany you on a ride today." And with that, he placed his hand on the doorhandle, as if he deemed that a sufficient explanation.

Leara, however, did not. "That's it? He leaves me waiting for an hour and then sends his worthless churl of a steward to tell me he's not coming, without any explanation at all?"

"My God! You know, having seen you alongside your brother and sister, I thought that you alone might have avoided your parents' selfishness!" Aldhein drew his hand from the door and looked her over once more, as leery and disgusted with her as she was with him. "Clearly, I was wrong--you're all just like your parents! Everything has to be about you! Now, I have to go to Tetran and give this message to your father and the baron; is there anything you want to say to your betrothed?"

"Yes!" She plunged her foot into the hardwood, the metallic taste of blood flooding her tongue as she chomped down on the inside of her cheek. She could not recall the last time she had been so angry. She hadn't believed that Lorn could have ever hurt her so, but perhaps she'd been a fool to trust him--he was a man, after all, a man just like this horrible beast before her. "Tell him that if he doesn't love me anymore, he can come here and say it to my face, the pathetic little worm!"

Aldhein raised an eyebrow, his features contorting into that bizarre, disbelieving look that all old married people wore when people Leara's age spoke of love. "Your majesty, I do believe you've erred. The duke is not standing you up because of any love for you or lack of therefore; the fact of that matter is that he cannot spend the afternoon in your company today because his brother died this morning. Now, if you don't mind, I have to inform the rest of the nobility of the boy's passing."

He pushed through the door and left, not even bothering to close it behind him. The crisp November gust was enough to snuff the fire in the hearth, but Leara took no notice.

NEXT CHAPTER: