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Authors: Violette Dubrinsky

Tags: #erotic MM, #Romance MM

Warrior (6 page)

BOOK: Warrior
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delicate like her sisters’, but it was

interesting. Sharp angles, a strong

chin, and intense golden eyes came

together to create a face that

entranced. She’d grown accustomed

to the stares of others.

“And I’d wager the very lot would

rue it the next morning to find their

reach of sword hindered by those very

same blisters.”

Wilhelm’s

smile

faded

briefly,

before he took a swig of his ale and

chuckled. “You’ve always had your

mother’s spirit and my stubbornness.

Don’t you know as king I can

command you to dance?”

“Of course, My Lord Father, but

would that not make you an

unsympathetic king?”

Brows furrowing, he demanded an

explanation.

“Would you willingly submit your

subjects to such pains?”

Another round of laughter followed,

and Jaisyn smiled. Her father was a

man of laughter. Though he blustered

at some of her escapades—he’d

almost taken the belt to her that time

she’d gone riding into the countryside

alone—she’d always had the ability to

put a smile on his face.

“You exaggerate, Jaisyn. You move

well at dance and sword.”

“Your Majesty is kind to one so

undeserving.”

“I am honest.” His expression grew

winsome, and he appeared on the

verge of saying something else when

the bard addressed him. That led to

Wilhelm taking to the floor to the

great delight of all gathered. Jaisyn

laughed and clapped along with the

other watchers as her father twirled

one of the women, dipped another,

and worked his way through most of

the women gathered. He even danced

with Mathilda, who stepped on his

toes a few times if his discreet winces

were any indication.

When supper was over, Jaisyn

slipped unseen from the Great Hall,

her buttermilk treats hidden snugly in

the large pockets of her gown.

***

Jaisyn brushed the last of the sugary

treat from her lips and looked to the

twinkling stars in the night sky. She’d

ended up taking not only her cookies,

but the ones her father had left behind

on his plate. Wilhelm had never been

one for sweets.

Across from her, Malcolm took a

long swig from the buckskin flask

filled with ale. He was washing down

the majority of the cookies. As he

stopped to draw breath, he turned to

her, held out the skin, and hesitated.

Jaisyn struggled for patience. She’d

been noticing this strange behavior in

the past months, and disliked it.

“I’ve managed to pilfer cookies for a

friend, yet the very same friend

hesitates to share his ale with me.”

Instantly, he shook his head.

“Princess, you misund—”

“There is no one around to hear

you, Malcolm. I’ve given you free use

of my name.”

Once

more,

there

was

that

damnable hesitation. With a sigh,

Jaisyn leaned against the wall, angling

herself more securely against the

bench, and closed her eyes.

She heard the clinking of chain mail

as Malcolm moved, and his warmth

caressed her arm though the sleeve of

her dress. Calloused hands touched

hers, opening her fingers to place the

soft buckskin between them.

“We

aren’t

children

anymore,

Jaisyn.” His words were low, barely

carrying over the howl of the night

wind. He would not look at her. He

appeared to focus on the fine gold

trimming of her evening gown.

“No, but you’re still my closest

friend.” She lifted the skin to her lips,

swallowing the fermented drink with

the ease of a woman accustomed to it.

While her sisters preferred wine,

Jaisyn had always had a taste for ale.

As she ran the back of her sleeve

across her lips, Malcolm spoke

thoughtfully. “You are a princess. I

am a warrior. I can’t treat you as I

would another.”

“Yes, and we’ve known that since

you became my sparring partner. You

were the only squire brave enough to

fight me.” A rueful smile touched her

lips at the memory of Malcolm

stepping forward with his wooden

sword while the rest cowered back.

“Have

you

lost

your

courage,

Malcolm?”

From his deep intake of breath,

Jaisyn knew she’d hit a nerve.

“Jaisyn, you can’t expect—” He

released a breath. “There is a protocol

must be followed.”

“Even when we are alone?”

“Yes.” He sounded surly. “Lest I

forget when we are not.”

With an easy laugh, she took

another swig of the ale before handing

it back to him. “I don’t want to fight

with you. My father says I should

keep my sword sharp and work on

blunting my tongue.”

Malcolm chuckled, and whatever

tension had descended between them

faded. “King Wilhelm has always

been of the learned.”

For his cheekiness, he received a

cuff to his bicep, one Jaisyn instantly

regretted as her knuckles rapped his

chain mail. As she moaned and

rubbed

her

knuckles,

Malcolm

laughed.

“I’m glad you’re finding my distress

humorous.”

He took her hand and gently

caressed

her

bruised

knuckles.

“You’re the one who wanted to be

treated as a friend.”

Staring down at their hands, Jaisyn

smiled lazily, remembering years past

when Malcolm wrapped her bruised

knuckles after one of their infamous

fisticuffs. He’d be bloodied with

scratches over his face, and perhaps a

few teeth marks, yet he’d sit her

down, ignoring her simmering, and

wrap her bruises.

Malcolm released her hand and

silence reigned as they both focused

on the night sky.

“What do you fear, Jaisyn?”

Her answer was instant. “Nothing.”

“Who were expecting by the lake

tonight?”

Her body straightened, muscles

locking of their own volition. “No

one.”

There was a long silence, broken

only the screech of crickets and the

far-away snorting of animals. “Friends

don’t lie to each other.”

“Leave it be, Malcolm. I like to be

prepared in case of an attack.”

“From whom?”

She stood, stepping closer to the

square windows. “I don’t want to

discuss it. In fact, I’m tired. If I don’t

go to my chambers soon, Maggie will

send someone to fetch me.” Magda,

whom Jaisyn affectionately called

‘Maggie’, was a Lytherian woman of

about forty years old. She’d been with

Jaisyn since birth and had gone from

being one of Jaisyn’s governesses to

her lady’s maid, and when necessary,

squire.

Before Jaisyn could flee—because

that was exactly what she was doing

—Malcolm stepped into her path. He

made a fist, placed it directly over his

heart, and bowed his head. “So long

as I draw breath, Jaisyn, you have

nothing to fear.”

When he lifted his eyes, it was to

find a smile easing her features.

“Malcolm

Sudbury,

my

gallant

champion.”

The soft moonlight highlighted the

seriousness upon his face. “There are

warriors here who would lay down

their lives for you.”

“Because I am a St. Ives.” It was

expected. These men had sworn

fealty to her father, and his lineage.

“Because you’re worthy of it,

Princess.” Once more, he dipped his

head and locks of golden hair fell

across his smooth forehead. “You are

one of us, with battle scars to prove

it.”

Even

as

she

nodded

in

understanding, Jaisyn looked away.

He was referring to the scar she’d

received facing the three Morden

soldiers. It was a tale most knew, one

that was at times embellished by the

bards who frequented the castles.

Jaisyn didn’t care much for it, as it

reminded her of her failure. She might

have defeated three Morden soldiers,

but her brother and prince had still

died.

“Thank you, Malcolm.” The sound

of heavy footsteps touched her ears,

and Jaisyn turned in time to see

another warrior enter the gatehouse.

“Princess.” As he bowed, Jaisyn

read the surprise and curiosity in his

gaze. He had to be new.

“Good night.” She dipped her head

to both men, but couldn’t resist

tossing a challenge over her shoulder.

“Do not think to use your duty as an

excuse when you find yourself on

your back with my sword at your

throat tomorrow, warrior.”

A soft chuckle, accompanied by the

urgent whispering of the other man,

followed her from the gatehouse.

***

“Where are we going, Father?”

Jaisyn

looked

around

the

lush

countryside in curiosity, wondering if

he was leading her to any particular

place. They’d been riding for almost

an hour now, and she knew only that

he wanted her companionship this

day. The royal guard and Magda, her

lady’s maid, accompanied them at a

discreet distance.

Wilhelm tossed an amused glance in

her direction. “Methinks you are tired,

daughter.”

A vehement shake of the head was

his answer. “I am only curious to

know what surprise you have in store

for me, liege.”

“How glib her tongue is when she

finds it necessary.”

Jaisyn grinned.

They came upon a stream, and

Wilhelm dismounted, leading his

stallion to it. Jaisyn did the same,

patting Ajax’s flank as he drank.

Years ago, once she’d recovered

enough from her shoulder injury to

ride, Wilhelm had gifted her with

Ajax.

“Walk with me, child.”

Eagerly, she took her father’s arm,

following him along the water’s edge.

A few paces away from them, the

warriors who made up her father’s

royal guard were dismounting as well,

keeping their liege and his daughter

well within eyesight.

“I was selfish,” he began softly.

Jaisyn tried to turn to him, but he

continued along, pulling her with him.

“Your mother died when you were

barely old enough to remember her.”

He smiled, and Jaisyn knew he was

envisioning her mother before he

confirmed it. “Zenoba was unlike any

I’d seen before. She had hair the color

of a deep sunset, like Isolde, and skin

like a freshly plucked lily.” Wilhelm

chuckled briefly, closing his eyes.

“She was stunning, but her beauty

was just a part of her, the outer shell

to match her spirit.” He stilled and

Jaisyn moved to face him. “When

Zenoba died, I had a duty to the

Crown. It was one I neglected,

something I, out of selfish loyalty, did

not fulfill.”

Jaisyn

lifted

a

brow,

not

understanding,

and

waited.

She

sensed her father was trying to tell her

something important. The lines around

his lips suddenly seemed more

pronounced.

“I won’t be around forever.”

“Father!”

Wilhelm patted her hand in a gentle

but chastising manner. “Allow me to

finish, Jaisyn.”

With a frown, she clamped her lips

together, disliking the conversation

from the first sentence.

“You are my oldest and if the

succession would allow it, I would

leave you this kingdom. I do not doubt

your ability to rule. You love Lytheria

and its people, and have all the

makings of a great queen.” Jaisyn’s

heart swelled. She’d broached the

topic of succession to her father

numerous times, but Wilhelm had only

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