Vengeance (6 page)

I
know him!  
One
glimpse at the wedding was not enough to confirm my suspicions but
now I am sure of it.  
This
is the man from my dreams.  This is Bastien.

The sound of his
name tumbles through my mind like waves crashing against a rocky
shore.  I feel torn and mended countless times in a mere second,
aching and wounded and yet feeling oddly whole.  

“Illyria?”
 I turn and blink, dazed to find Eamon standing up beside me.
 For a moment I am unsure of where I am.  Slowly the haze
in my mind clears and I can feel Eamon’s hands upon my arm.
 “Are you alright?”

“Yes, of
course.”  I smile and pat his arm.  I can feel others
watching me, sense their concern but when I glance beyond Eamon to
the space where I saw the man I realize he has vanished.  

I can tell Eamon is
not convinced as he helps me settle back into my chair.  I press
my palm against my cheeks and realize that I have become flushed.
 “Perhaps I am not feeling well after all.”

With a snap of his
fingers, Kyan sends three guards sprinting to my side.  I wave
them off, protesting that I am perfectly capable of walking, though
Eamon insists on carrying me.  I cast an apologetic glance over
his shoulder at my friends, scolding myself for ruining their party.
 

As
the tent fades into darkness behind us I lay my head against Eamon’s
shoulder and allow my eyes to close.  
I
know that I saw Bastien. I’m not imagining things.  It
truly is him.  The only question is...who exactly is he?

I rise before dawn,
unwilling to continue tossing and turning.  Eamon stirs beside
me as I slip from the bed and plod into the bathroom, quietly sliding
the door closed behind me.  I lean over the sink and stare at my
reflection in the mirror.  

My eyes are
decidedly puffy this morning, ringed with lavender and lined at the
corners.  My lips seem paler than normal. My eyes dull.  My
cheeks are a bit flushed and my stomach churns, though I have yet to
be ill.

“Wow.  What
a way to make a great first impression!”

Today is going to be
filled with back to back meetings with delegates from the
not-too-distant Raos province.  This city is one of great wealth
due to the mining towns that surround it.  I had been scheduled
to visit this grand city in person but Kyan refused to even consider
letting me leave the palace while he was gone, so he arranged for the
delegates to come here instead.  They should be arriving in only
a few short hours.

“Not enough
time to turn this mess around,” I grumble and splash cold water
on my face.

A night of restless
slumber has left me off kilter and cranky.  That doesn’t
bode well for the day I have spread out before me.

Grabbing a towel
from a shelf beside the basin, I rush through a quick wash and dress
in a light pale blue linen dress.  Gone are the see-through
outfits that Aloysius once subjected me to.  I have settled for
a far more conservative, yet casual style of dress, allowing for the
change in temperatures throughout the day and yet not so rigid as to
feel suffocated by decorum.

I pull my hair
around to the side of my head and begin methodically braiding, my
thoughts lost to me.  I know that I dreamt last night though I
can’t remember exactly what I saw.  Eamon woke me in the
middle of the night and cradled me like a child as tears streamed
down my cheeks.  An overwhelming sense of loss struck me, though
I can find no reason for it.

Looping a band about
the ends of my hair, I toss my braid back over my shoulder and slide
my feet into a pair of slippers.  They feel cool against my
feet, molding perfectly to the arch of my foot so that when I step I
can nearly feel the texture of the tile beneath.

Eamon’s gentle
snores continue as I slip from the room and out into the darkened
hall.  The flickering of candlelight glows in intervals before
me as I walk down the familiar path.  Though much of this palace
still remains a mystery to me, the main halls and meeting rooms are
all too familiar.

Moonlight spills in
through the open windows, covered only with sheer lace that drapes
from the ceiling above.  It is a warm night.  Too warm for
my liking.  I can already feel beads of sweat forming along my
lower back.

As I turn at the end
of the hall and glance toward the sweeping balcony that rests over
the main entrance to the palace, I realize that I am not the only one
awake at this early hour.  I approach slowly, unsure of who it
is that stands perched upon the ledge.

“It’s a
long drop from there,” I say as I part the curtains.  The
man’s shoulders stiffen yet he does not show any other hint
that my approach concerns him.  “Would be a shame to ruin
such a beautiful night with your death, don’t you think?”

The man’s
continued silence disturbs me.  I had at least expected a laugh
at my attempt at humor.  Even if what I say isn’t funny
people generally humor me anyway just because I’m queen.

“Seriously,”
I press and step closer, now wary of this man’s intentions.
 “Why don’t you come down from there and we can
chat?”

“About what?”
He asks without turning.  His voice is deep and velvety.  I
like the way his words seem to curl at the end like a cat winding its
tail about its owner’s leg possessively.

“I don’t
know,” I admit.  I step into the light of the moon and
stare up at the man before me.  He has broad shoulders and a
tapered waist.  I can see that the material of his uniform
clings to his muscular legs.  None of that matters when I spy
his shoulder length hair.  Instinctively I reach out and touch
his leg, needing to reassure myself that this is not just another one
of my dreams.

The man flinches and
leaps backward, his body rotating in the air above me. He lands in a
crouch, his face veiled by darkness but I can see his wariness as if
he were standing beneath a noonday sun.

“I’m
sorry,” I mutter and draw my hand back, realizing only now that
it still hangs awkwardly in the air.  “I meant no harm.”

He rises slowly but
remains in the shadows.  “Do you have a habit of touching
strange men in the dark?”

Heat flushes into my
cheeks at the not so subtle implication.  “I’m a
married woman.”

“Yet that
didn’t stop you from grabbing me.”

My jaw hangs in open
disbelief.  “You can’t honestly believe that I meant
to grope you.”

He shrugs and tilts
his head to the side.  Not being able to see the details of his
face is infuriating.  I cross my arms over my chest as my anger
mounts.  “How dare you insinuate that I would do such a
thing!”

His deep chuckle
catches me off guard.  I like the way that sounds too.  “Calm
down, Illyria.  I’m just playing with you.”

My shoulders clench
and my hands press tightly at my sides.  I can feel a slight
tremor working up through my fingers.  “Why do you use my
name as if you know me?”

The man doesn’t
move, doesn’t speak.  For a moment that seems to stretch
into eternity he simply stares at me.  Then, with a surprising
grace, he bows low.  “My apologies, my queen.  I
should never have been so informal with you.”

I find myself
nodding in agreement, for after all that should be the proper
response, and yet the formality of it all seems odd.  “See
to it that my husband doesn’t hear you say such a thing or it
will be your head he’s mounting on the wall.”

As the man steps
into the moonlight I can’t help but realize how startlingly
handsome he is, especially when he smirks.  His hair seems
longer than it should be, though I don’t know why I would think
it should be any different.  

A
shorter cut would really show off the stubble on his jaw.  
I
blink, shocked by the thought.  
What
is wrong with me?  I’m married for goodness sake!

I clear my throat
and clasp my hands before my stomach, realizing for the first time
that it has yet to settle completely.  No doubt all of these
dreams have begun to stress me out far more than I would like to
admit.

When the silence
begins to grow thick between us, the man holds out his hand to me and
waits for me to shake it.  The invitation surprises me.  It
is not of this world.  “You’re human?”

“Last
time I checked.”  I smirk and take his hand, shaking it
with a firm grasp.  I have never been one to offer soft
handshakes.  He seems to appreciate this fact.  “The
name’s Bastien.  Bastien Adair.”

“I know you.”

He blinks and looks
taken aback.  “You...you do?”

I bite my lower lip,
realizing my slip.  “Sure.  Kyan told me you would be
coming.”

I find it amusing
how relieved he appears to be by my answer, though I’m unable
to decipher why this doesn’t sit well with me.  Does he
know me somehow?  Surely Kyan and Bastien have spoken of me in
length, considering he has obviously been chosen as my new guardian
in Kyan’s absence, but there seems to be far more than Bastien
is letting on.  This intrigues me.

“Ah.  Yes,
well he always has been very thorough.”

“That he is,”
I muse and draw my hand back from his grasp.  I try not to let
him see me wipe my palm against my dress but the warmth radiating
from him is unsettling.  “I assume that things are quiet
on the outer rim?”

His lips purse and
he shifts his weight to his right side, further from me.  “How
do you know that I’m from the outer rim?”

Now
it’s my turn to mentally kick myself.  
Way
to go, Illyria!  You have succeeded in hinting that you are a
bit of a whacko!  How is a girl supposed to explain that
she’s been dreaming of a complete stranger for months?

“My husband
requested your services when we left on our honeymoon.  Kyan
implied at that time that you were too busy protecting that sector to
be my personal escort.  I assume that since you are here now
that things are running smoothly again.”

If I am not
mistaken, the color has seeped from Bastien’s face.  His
gaze lowers to his boots and remains fixed there.  “I have
men whom I trust leading on my behalf while I am gone. There is
nothing to fear.”

I take a small step
closer and he jerks his head upright to look at me.  There is an
emotion buried deep in his eyes.  Pain?  Perhaps.  Whatever
it is I can tell that it is raw and consuming.  “I am sure
of that.”

His
gaze narrows as I take another step closer.  I can feel his
desire to step back, to turn and run and yet he doesn’t move.
 I take another step and his breath hitches.  
Why
am I tormenting this poor man?  And for that matter why am I
doing any of this at all?  It is hardly proper for me to be seen
standing in the shadows with a man other than my husband, bodyguard
or not.

“Are you here
only for the week?” I ask softly.

He offers me a jerky
nod.  “I still have much work to finish back on Alenida.”

“I bet you
do.”  I offer him a smile and turn away, heading back
toward the hall beyond the curtain.  I hear a shrill whistle
behind me and turn, ready to inform him that such behavior is not
accepted here when I see him barreling toward me.  I barely have
time to react when he rams full force into me, slamming us to the
floor.

His arm wraps around
my head to protect it from crashing into the hard stone.  “Bastien,
what are you--”

“Stay
down!”  The weight of his body rolls on top of mine,
crushing my lungs as I hear a second whistle followed instantly by an
explosion that leaves my ears ringing.  Dirt and splinters of
stone rain down around us.  Bastien grimaces as the debris
strikes him, but he doesn’t move, determined to shield me.

“How
did you know?” I ask, my voice strained under his weight.  I
feel rattled by my lack of forewarning.  I should have sensed
the attack, seen it coming, but like every other time I have peeked
into the future, all that bounces back at me is nothingness.

“Can you see
anything?”

“What?  How
do you--”  

His gaze hardens as
he ignores my question, cutting me off.  “Can you see who
is attacking us?”

I shake my head,
feeling my scalp press painfully against ground the despite his
attempts to cushion my neck.  “I see nothing.”

Without another
word, Bastien seizes my hand and hauls me to my feet.  I hardly
have a moment to catch my breath before he yanks me through the
curtain and into the hall beyond.  People have begun to emerge
from their rooms, blurry eyed and yawning.

“What is the
meaning of this?” Chancellor Nitaka demands.  His weighted
jowls tremble as he pats his mouth in a lazy yawn.  He is an
emissary from the distant Chaldorn province, whose land is plentiful
and oceans calm.  “Have I overslept?”

“We are under
attack.”  Bastien’s voice thunders over another
explosion.  It is followed in quick succession with four more
blasts, each one rattling the walls.  Cracks begin to form along
the roof.  The residents of the hall leap aside as stone
crumbles and patters to the ground at their feet.  “Get
everyone out!”

Without waiting to
hear the Chancellor’s spluttering response, Bastien twines his
fingers through mine and yanks me down the hall.

“My room is in
the opposite direction.”  I shout, ducking as a pillar
less than ten feet behind us explodes.  I can feel the shards
bury into the back of my arms and neck but I do not slow.

“I’m
aware of that.”

He
continues to run, dragging me along.  My feet don't seem to want
to keep up with his rapid pace.  I grow winded before we have
even reached the end of the hall.  
Palace
life has left me sorely out of shape!

“I insist that
you take me to Eamon.”

“Sorry,
Illyria, but that’s not going to happen.”

I yank back on his
arm and he is forced to stop with me.  I can tell by his
mounting agitation that he is none too thrilled with my actions.  He
grits his teeth before responding to my defiant gaze.  “Look,
Eamon is a big boy.  He can handle himself.  Right now I
have to get you to safety.”