Page 15 of The Dark Prince
“Perron will pay for this,” I promised. Not only because they had duped me into taking the wrong daughter, but because it complicated an already complicated situation. I wanted a wife easy to dislike; someone spoiled and vain who would submit easily with pretty dresses and having the run of an entire castle to make up for my absence and eventual betrayal.
Instead, I had Isadora with her trusting brown eyes and hair the color of a sunset and with her lips as sinful as the steel of my blade.
I couldn’t even blame Perron despite my protests to Maddeus.
I’d been the one to choose her.
I rolled over. For now, I had to get my new wife to my lands and safe behind my castle walls. Then I would deal with everything else.
Even the … consummation bit.
“Goodnight, milord,” Maddeus whispered and then rolled over and closed his eyes.
I sighed. This was going to be a long night and an even longer few days.
Seven
ISADORA
Iwoke the next morning alone and confused and still aching to finish what Tyr had started the night before. The monk was puttering around with breakfast below me, which was likely what woke me up. With bleary eyes, I froze, not wanting to appear before this man in my underclothes. I clutched the blanket tightly to my chest and tucked my legs under it.
My husband chose that moment to barge through the door, still dressed all in black. Had he taken anything off to sleep? The mask still hung from his face, and I wondered if it hurt to have it on all the time. Lord Tyr’s gaze sought me out immediately in the loft. He met my eyes, and I blushed.
The monk jumped at his abrupt entrance, then smiled and gestured to the porridge over the fire. “Oh! Good morning. I was just—”
“My wife wishes to change.”
I tensed as both of them turned to me.
“Of course, of course,” the monk muttered. “I was just about to go tell the lads breakfast was on. We’ll give you a few minutes. Or maybe more?” He gave a bawdy grin to my husband, who only continued to stare stonily.
The monk sighed dramatically. “I’d give anything to be young again, and here the young are already so stoic and serious.”
He left the cottage, letting in a cold breeze that had me shivering in my underclothes.
“You can come down, now.”
My face was hot as I maneuvered down the steps. I wasn’t sure why I was so embarrassed. My foot felt much better, barely hurting at all. Despite that, I still slipped on the second to last rung and fell. His arms were there to catch me, grabbing me and pulling me into him.
I relaxed against him, taking in his scent. He smelled a bit like barn and the pigs, but that unique, spiced scent was still him under it all.
He let go, backing away. “Dress and eat. We have a long journey.”
I pulled the gaudy dress back over my head as he poured out bowls of porridge for his men, who came in ten minutes later, loud and boisterous. I sat at the table, one spoon in my breakfast. I was far more interested in watching them than eating.
“There she is! Doing alright?” Maddeus was the first to acknowledge me, swiping a bowl from a younger man and claiming the seat next to me.
“Yes,” I answered, his good mood infectious. It would do my husband a world of good if some of it could rub off onhim.
“Good, good. Wanted to introduce you to the others. This here’s Dank.” Maddeus used his spoon to point at a young blond who sat right on the floor near us, only sixteen years of age. The boy waved shyly, his pale skin going bright red.
“By the fire are Arne and Toke; you can tell they’re grizzled veterans, since they’re the only ones smart enough to take advantage of the fire before we leave!” The last part he said out loud to the others. A few of the men grumbled, but moved closer to the heat of the flames.
I eyed Toke and Arne, who looked different from any men I’d seen before. Arne had skin black as the deepest night, with glowing silver eyes. He was bald, and he’d decorated his ears with several small gold and silver rings.
“That one came from across the sea to Lord Tyr,” Maddeus offered, picking up on my interest. “They say there’s real magick where he’s from. I know little about that, but I know his eyesight is like an eagle’s! He’s our best scout and a hell of a fighter. I’ve never seen him lose.”
“He worships the old gods then, like Lord Tyr?” I asked, wanting to be sure. My mother had never spoken about what she believed in, but my new step-father had been very vocal about how his household would follow the new religion, so it was all I knew.
