Page 26 of Settle Down, Princess

“That’s not a no.” I smiled my most serene smile, then decided to fire off another salvo before I breezed past. “The fact you need to exert any sort of control over yourself indicates that you are having to stifle your natural impulses.”

Arik’s choked-off growl was my only answer. I just kept the same smile on my face as I walked up to Roan, who stood waiting with a drying cloth hanging over his shoulder.

“Come on, Trouble. Let’s get you washed before the animals come down to the waterhole for the night.” Roan turned and directed me to come with him, reaching behind him to stroke the hilt of his massive broadsword. “I can take down anything that tries to take a bite out of you, but I’d prefer not to.”

“Trouble?” I tried for a huff of affront, but his rakish grin was infectious. He snatched a stalk of grass from the waist-high growth by the river, chewing on the end.

“I’ve got seven sisters at home, so you could say I’m familiar with the look in a woman’s eyes when she’s intent on causing chaos. The commander doesn’t understand, having been raised in a household lacking the gentle touch of a woman.”

“And what am I intending to do that could cause so much trouble?” I asked. I kept my tone light and teasing, but I wanted to know exactly what he had divined.

“Don’t know the details yet.” He shot me a sidelong look full of sly mischief. “Don’t want to. Half the fun is seeing what you women do.” I kept my mouth shut, suddenly terrified then that somehow, I’d reveal my intent. “Men are stupid creatures for the most part, thinking themselves lords and masters of the world. They might make it hard for a woman to make a full-frontal assault.” He flexed his arms, those very impressive muscles popping under the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt. “But brawn over brain only gets you so far. Women are cunning creatures because that’s all we’ll let them be, but if cunning is what will get them what they want, that’s the method they’ll use.”

What could I say to that? I’d been playing with knives all day, but his words cut closer than any of those blades. Too close for comfort. I just nodded, and he let out a low chuckle as I stepped forward to the river, handing me the drying cloth and soap.

Mother made sure I had dresses I could get out of without needing assistance, so I made quick work of the buttons, shedding the heavy velvet travelling dress like it was my second skin, followed by the underdress and my underwear. As the sun dropped lower in the sky and the world took on a red glow, I walked into the river water, shivering at the cool lick of it against my skin. The soap wasn’t as fine as we used in the castle, but it wouldn’t rub my skin raw, so I went to work quickly, washing myself clean. I didn’t know when I’d have another chance. When I was done, I flipped backwards, floating on the water’s surface, and stared up at the sky. That the sun was blood-red made sense to me. Whatever my future held, somehow, I knew my hands would be stained with blood and all I could hope was that none of it was mine.

Chapter 16

Roan

You weren’t supposed to stare at the tits of a noblewoman, were you? Not even if they were the sweet little breasts you’d sucked on last night. Remembering the feel of her hard nipple and how it left an impression on my tongue, I was half tempted to fish my cock out. A few quick, hard strokes and I’d be spilling on the grass in seconds. Dealing with your needs like that was something you became accustomed to as a soldier. Sometimes the urge would ride you, particularly after battle, and if there were no women within miles of the battlefield, you had to take matters into your own hand. Instead of doing so, I let out a hiss as I watched her and chewed at the end of my stalk of grass. I’d tossed it to the ground, shaking my head at myself when I heard it.

Not the splashing of a beautiful, naked woman. My ears had become well attuned to that discordant tune, tugging at my breeches, luring me closer far more effectively than the sweetness of a siren’s call. But Her Majesty’s ablutions weren’t what had my hand going to the hilt of my sword.

A lot of men have silly ideas about what a warrior is, imagining a berserker-like madman rushing onto the battlefield and laying waste to all around them. While there is a power to that, my sword masters always taught me that knowing when to pull your sword is just as important as how you deploy it.

The sudden silence of all the birds, then a sharp little crack of a twig breaking, was what had me spinning around, dragging me away from the sight of the naked princess. There in the undergrowth, his fur as tawny as the sun-bleached grass he slid between, was a catamount.

Big, heavier than most men and with fangs like sabres, the bloody things were death on four paws. I drew my sword free slowly enough to smother the silvery sound of steel on sheath.

“I need you to get out of the water, lass.”

“What?”

Her head whipped around. Although I could tell she was looking my way, I couldn’t spare her a glance. I’d worship that beautiful little body once I’d shown this bastard the error of his ways, but this was no time for distractions. Part of me relished the clarity that came with danger as my heart pumped adrenaline hard and fast through my entire body, because this was the moment I became fully alive. As I swung the sword free, drawing the cat’s eyes away from her and to the bastard it’d have to get through before it could even nibble her pretty rear, the princess got some idea of what I was about. She spun around to look for the threat, a mistake if ever there was one, because I watched the cat’s pupils blow wide as it fixed its gaze on her. Fast movements were prey movements, and that was what this predator was after.

“Slowly, Jessalyn. Get out of the water, slowly.”

But she didn’t. The princess saw the great cat and started wading rapidly through the water in her urgency to get to the bank.

And that’s when I leapt forward.

I caught the moment its furry haunches bunched, its massive paws clawing the earth, the same adrenaline powering it as it leapt from its hiding place with claws outstretched. Save the fucking girl, was the only thought in my head as I jumped too.

You had to believe your arm would strike true, that in any given battle you’d stand over your enemy, victorious, while his blood fed the earth. If you doubted yourself for even a second, you’d pull your strike at exactly the wrong moment, fumbling the whole fucking thing.

I believed.

I believed that I would see my sword slicing through the air, the entire strength of my body and the momentum of my leap behind the blow. My broadsword would chop down through the big, feral bastard’s neck, blood gushing like a fountain as its yowl was choked off. Those golden eyes would glare up at me for just a second before the light went out in them forever as its head dropped into the mud.

And that’s what happened.

We collided in mid-air, my blade with his body, but though I felt the vicious swipe of his claws across my chest, the pain was somehow a counterpoint to the savage music inside my head. We both went splashing down into the chilly water. I didn’t mind, because while I did so in one piece, the cat did it in two.

Dead.

My breath came in great whoops, something I leant into when I saw the size of the bastard thing, then I let out a great shout of victory. It echoed all over the clearing, which I knew would bring the others running, but I did it mostly in shock and in jubilation that we’d survived.

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