Page 21 of Settle Down, Princess

The fury that radiated from the girl in the carriage made clear she was not interested in any potential sacrifices we might make, nor in anything else we might have to say. Didn’t stop me from pausing in the doorway for just a second. She was so fucking beautiful, and that was what had struck me the moment I’d pulled her veil free and cut that stupid corset from her. Those flashing eyes, those full lips—all the more swollen for what we’d put her through last night—they pulled at me now, just as they had then. Today I wouldn’t be helping her rip any jewels free of her finery nor arranging the sale of them to speed her on her way. Not now. I wasn’t a saviour; I was her jailer. So I shut the door tight and locked it in place.

It didn’t stop my lips from stinging as I smiled at the royal family of Stormare, from where she’d kissed me so hard that my teeth had cut the skin. It didn’t stop my cock from lurching in my breeches, the traitorous bastard refusing to go down, even now, well after the roseblood had left my system. It didn’t prevent me from wanting to haul the girl out of the carriage the minute we got clear of the city, nor from wanting to pull her up onto the saddle in front of me so that she rode against the pommel for the duration, her perfectly formed arse pressed firmly to me as she sat between my legs.

I was pulled out of my thoughts as Silas drew abreast with me. The bastard liked pain in all its forms, and psychological pain was a particular pleasure for him. He looked me over, reading me like a fucking book, just like he did everyone, before grinning and giving his reins a flick.

“Oh, this will be fun…” he said, nudging his horse on to drop into formation further along the road, ostensibly to scout for danger.

I was glad one of us was enjoying himself. I certainly wasn’t. To me, pain was not something to seek out, nor was it something to savour. It was harsh and unpleasant and had been an all too common feature of my life.

And was about to be again.

Silas wasn’t often wrong, but he would be disappointed if he thought there could be any amusement to be gained from what faced us. I’d hated bringing each one of my king’s brides to him, but I hated this time the most. Jessalyn didn’t deserve her fate. None of them had, but it was the thought of her eyes, of having all the fire in them stifled, then snuffed out, left to stare blankly at the ceiling, that made me grit my teeth. I shook my head and forced my horse into a canter, which ensured the others would need to do the same. This wasn’t going to be fun. It was going to be hell, pure and simple; but the only way to pass through the underworld was to endure its trials.

Chapter 13

I’d spent my life wanting to get out of Stormare, but now that I was doing so, I found no enjoyment in it. My country consisted of little other than the capital, also called Stormare, and enough farmland to support our population. Oh, there were a few country estates owned by the most-favoured nobles and a few small towns, but little else. I’d felt constrained growing up—by my upbringing; by the geography of my homeland—but now that I was finally moving beyond those limits… I sighed, slumping in the seat. My posture wasn’t simply due to my thoughts. While the fine velvet of my gown was beautiful, every bounce of the carriage wheels had the maddening effect of making me slowly slide down the silken upholstery. I pulled myself upright, for the umpteenth time, and then pulled the curtains back from the carriage’s tiny windows and looked out.

I’d never expected to be sad at the prospect of leaving my country.

I drank in the sight of the neat fields that extended beyond the road, the shapes of the majestic trees sheltering livestock, and the men sweeping their scythes through tall stands of wheat. The rural splendour all looked so peaceful, whereas I… I had been tasked with being an agent of chaos. I looked down at the bag my mother insisted I take and nudged it with my foot. She expected me to slip so easily into the role of a poisoner? Or perhaps she thought me capable of slitting the king’s throat as he slept, spilling his blood over our marriage bed. My hand slid to my thigh, tracing the shape of the knife there. It was easy to be seduced by the possibilities, but there was a reality that I needed to face.

I had been raised to be a princess: ornamental, graceful, and generally useless as far as everyday skills were concerned. As I considered how ill-equipped I was for what lay ahead, I stared down at the pretty jewelled slippers I’d been given to wear. They were lovely to look at, but they would serve absolutely no practical purpose in the real world. Hating how that seemed to sum up where I found myself in all of this, I went to kick them off—I’d prefer to walk barefooted like a peasant girl rather than be reminded of my inadequacies with every step I took. But… as I turned my foot this way and that, my eyes were caught by the glitter of the blue topaz on the delicate satin. The slippers had been made to fit me exactly, ensuring my feet looked slender, delicate, and feminine. I suddenly realised how easily I was distracted by such trite concerns, and I groaned in frustration. How on earth could I possibly make the transition from decorative to deadly?

I glared at the bag, with its plan and its poisons, and kicked at it in a terribly unladylike fit of pique. It rolled less than a foot across the floor, which only made me more annoyed. Every day of my life I’d seen strong and capable female guards serving in the women’s quarters. They were allowed to take on what was otherwise only ever a man’s role to preserve the feminine modesty of the nobility, for the sake of the kingdom. They trained hard, built muscle and would’ve been able to punt that bag clear into the field beyond, whereas I— Wherever that train of thought was going, it was cut off abruptly as the carriage slowed, then rolled to a stop. Next came the sound of the door being unlocked. I stiffened, not knowing who I would see. When the door opened, hazel eyes glanced at me before their owner focused on letting the steps down and then leaned against the door frame.

Creed.

It wasn’t enough that the four men who’d witnessed my shame were the ones I had to rely upon to get me safely to Khean. He had to stare at me with the eyes of a wolf, like he wanted to eat me all up. I watched his hands warily as his fingers twitched, then shifted to claws, and back again.

“We’re stopping for a break,” he said, finally breaking the silence, with a growl in his voice.

“Not on my account, I hope,” I replied. “I’m fine to continue. Roll on, I say.”

“Lass—”

“Your Highness,” I corrected with a tight smile. “Or is it Your Majesty? Was I married to your king in whatever kind of ceremony was conducted yesterday? I don’t know. No one bothered to explain things to me, before or after.” I nodded slowly. “It’s a bit of a theme in my life: people keeping knowledge from me.”

“Things were kept from me too,” he said, those strange hazel eyes pleading for understanding. But I couldn’t give him that because I kept seeing an image of us from the night before: me lying across his lap, begging for more, more, from a man I thought I’d never see again in any circumstances.

Without any concept that he would soon be my jailer.

“If I’d known, I’d…”

His voice trailed away. He was unable to come up with an answer to my current predicament, because of course there were none. I rose to my feet and swept my skirts away as I went to climb down.

“You’d have consigned me to my fate, just like every other man alive,” I said, pushing past him and then stepping down from the carriage.

Were we still in Stormare? I couldn't tell because the fields had given way to trees that grew thick and dense, creating a canopy overhead. The three other men stood chatting beside their horses, until they saw me. My mother and grandmother’s exhortations rang in my head as I noted the moment their gazes sharpened to take in my current state, my dress, my bearing, then every step I took. Seduce them, weld them to my side, buy their loyalties with my body and… My jaw tightened to the point I feared my teeth might crack. No, without the benefit of roseblood, the idea was utterly repellent. Instead, I cast my eyes over our setting, looking for some other option.

“Why have we stopped here?” I asked, continuing toward them. There were no nearby houses, no smell of smoke on the breeze, nor any side tracks that might lead to other settlements.

“So you might rest and make yourself comfortable,” Creed answered, but Roan grinned.

“To take a piss.”

“What?” I blinked. I knew what the word meant, but I’d never heard it used in reference to me. “Where?” The red-haired bastard just gestured at the trees, using the knife he was peeling an apple with. “There?! Are there no inns nearby? Even a hovel with a privy would be preferable—”

“No inns out this way,” Arik replied, drily. “We’ll be sleeping rough tonight. Though if you want to share my bedroll…”

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