Page 29 of To Claim a King

She listened to him telling her about long forgotten tales, and at some point, she blinked. When she opened her eyes again, she was on her bed, and not alone.

Xandrie lifted her head from the King’s chest, blushing furiously as she looked up to his sleeping frame. How very scandalous.

“I can feel you looking at me,” he grumbled groggily, making her laugh.

Rhey was so painfully beautiful she couldn’t bring herself to stop, not even when he opened his eyes and stared right back at her.

“How did this happen?”

“Well, I was telling you of fascinating things that bored you to tears, so you collapsed on me. Rather than letting you freeze - as I wasn’t leaving my blanket with you - I thought it wise to take you to your chambers, but when I dropped you on your bed you wouldn’t let go of my chest.”

Ugh. She hid behind her hands. Someone kill her now.

Rhey laughed, and gently pulled her arms away.

“None of that. I like to see your eyes.”

The man did very, very bad things to her poor heart. She wasn’t well practiced in the art of flirting, and he obviously was a master of it.

“I’ll be in trouble if anyone sees us,” she guessed, and the King smiled.

“Not as much as I. I am, after all, the grand prize in a tournament - let’s not forget.”

How could she?

His arm closed over her shoulders, and pulled her back on his chest.

“Dawn will be upon us in a few instants. I’ll be King again. Until then, let us pretend.”

Pretend what? She could have asked, but there was no need. She knew. Vincent had been right, and the King favored her, although he wouldn’t say as much.

Now she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t at least try her best to win that stupid competition.

Northway

Xandrie didn’t liketo ask these days, because everything she said was taken as command, but she shyly went to Sid, who did hear her request. Within two hours, the woman came back with her favorite pair of pants - she’d sewn pockets in the leather, and padded them with rye. After seeing the drawing, and hearing everything Rhey had told her the previous night, she was itching to be just what he’d said she was - a Rider. She wasn’t sure how to bring it up with Demelza, though.

That morning, she didn’t have any spare time to think of it. The Warriors were loading food, water, ale and medicine, spare clothing, and other such things, under the Knights’ guidance and the Guard was speaking strategy with their King.

Xandrie stood a foot behind Elza, while looking at the Warriors, itching to make her muscles useful, as her brain wasn’t required. She wasn’t sure where her place stood.

Recognizing Lurie, who waved a greeting, she took a step towards the Warrior, only to be immediately called back.

“Alexandria.”

Just her name - Rhey didn’t need to say more. She turned and hesitatingly stepped towards the close group of grand lords.

Demelza must have sensed her unease; she put her arm around hers and squeezed.

“You’re to stay close to us. Our men are good, and efficient too, but they’ve learned to take care of themselves in battle. You’re new at this, and we have your back. At all times, I want you within arm’s length.”

She really was dealing with the King now, but even he was looking at her with soft, warm eyes. She nodded, and said, “yes, sir,” too. It seemed to amuse him - and the rest of the lords, for some reason.

“Right. I see your point about the south, and those bordersareimportant, but our shields are still in place, there. I want to go North.”

Amongst the fourteen lords, seven said North, seven were for the South; apparently, the fact that the King preferred north didn’t count as much as she would have thought. They were after a majority, and everyone turned to her.

She gulped. Her? She was to have a say in an important matter like this one?

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