Mage Slave
Page 5
“Prince Aven Lanuken at your service,” he said, brushing his lips across the backs of her fingers as he bowed.
She blinked for a second, a tiny curve in the corner of her mouth, before she straightened her expression. “Princess Evana Paranelin,” she said with a curtsy, the spray of white roses striking against her blue dress, beads swaying regally. She was striking. She was mesmerizing. Her beauty was its own diplomatic technique, and it was working on him.
Then, to his surprise, and perhaps to surprise them all, she stepped forward and looped her arm through his. “It has been such a long journey. Surely you and your attendants could show me to somewhere more comfortable?”
At this, he gave her a laughing sideways smile. He would play along. She smiled in return, and it was laughing, but not quite friendly.
“Of course, milady. If I have your leave, Father?”
His father nodded. “Yes, of course. We’ll be in the Proving Grounds. You’re welcome to join us, Princess.”
“Thank you,” she said smoothly, the picture of grace.
Aven led her from the hall. Her hand in the crook of his elbow was warm, and her body was close now, and in spite of the dress and cloak, he couldn’t miss her strong, lovely shape underneath it all. She was beautiful, all right, and she scared the hell out of him.
Aven actually had no idea where his guest was to reside, and fortunately, he didn’t need to. He followed an entourage of servants that sprang to life at the princess’s request.
“So, tell me of yourself, Prince Lanuken.”
“Call me Aven.” She nodded in acknowledgement. “Ah, well, I am son of the great Samul Lanuken, whose charming personage you’re already acquainted with. I am the lucky soul to be born crown prince of Akaria, and also a frequently tardy statesman.”
She smiled very slightly, keeping her eyes focused ahead of them. Was she mapping the halls in her memory, perhaps? Or was she looking for something aside from a mate?
“I, uh, I’ve lived in Estun all my life. I am an officer in our armed force and a noted tutor of aspiring young swordsmen and shield maidens. And a noted lover of apple dumplings as well.” He paused, waiting for a reaction. He got none. “What about you? Do you put that bow you carry to good use?”
“It is rare when I have a real occasion to use it,” she said. “But I am a skilled marksman, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I assumed as much. Do you practice any other combat sports?”
“Only verbal sparring, I’m afraid. In Isolte, it is not common for women to fight beyond the bow. I hear Akaria is very different.”
“Everyone learns to fight here,” he said simply. “Have you wanted to learn?”
“Not particularly,” she said, and nothing more.
“What of you, milady?” he said.
“I am the youngest of King Enin’s three daughters, skilled with a bow, drawing, and the harp. I speak six languages and have traveled much of this continent and all the outer islands.” She stopped as if that summed it up. A practiced speech.
“And how do you find Akaria?” he asked.
“Beautiful, if a little wild.”
Wild? He had heard his nation described more than a few ways before, but wild was not one of them. Far more of their land was settled than Takar or even Kavanar, for that matter, and the three nations took up most of the continent. What could she possibly mean by that, and how could he get at it while remaining polite?
Fortunately or unfortunately, he was out of time as they arrived at her room. Servants buzzed around delivering her belongings, stoking the low-burning fire, opening the curtains. Her room had windows. So Fayton had kept a few of the best rooms free, in spite of the Takaran throng invading the place. They had a wise and savvy steward.
When most of her things were settled, he gestured to a young woman waiting by the door. “Camil will be devoted to your service throughout your stay, so if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to let her or myself know.” Strange—something he said made the princess’s eyes widen ever so slightly. What had he said that unnerved her? No matter, he continued on. “Did you want to take some time to recover from your journey or perhaps join us in the Proving Grounds to watch the duels?”
“Perhaps you would have a moment for the two of us to speak frankly together. Alone.”
He could not help but raise his eyebrows. “I have as many moments as you need, my princess, as I am in no hurry to join the duels. But in Akaria, princes and knights such as myself live by a code. As part of that, to defend our honor, you and I cannot be alone.” Not to mention to prevent international incidents. “But let me send all but my most trusted away—I assure you, you can speak frankly around them.”
“Fine, I suppose that will have to do.” Aven had the strangest sensation that he had just avoided a trap. Didn’t matter. The Code was the way it was for a reason. The servants left without a specific request, and only Fayton and Camil remained. The princess motioned silently for the young woman to help her with her cloak, and Evana removed it slowly, dramatically, in spite of Camil’s many attempts to be brisk and efficient. Then the princess pretended to sit casually on the bed, although it looked carefully calculated to him, and she began removing her gloves one finger at a time.
Was it hotter in the room? Certainly it was only the fire they’d stoked. Was his face turning red? Oh, gods, was that flicker of the flames just the usual drafts… or something else? The princess eyed the fire as well. The unnatural flicker did not seem beyond her notice.
“Fine,” she said slowly. “Let us be frank. Would you care to have a seat? It will only be a moment, but you look… uncomfortable.” She patted the bed gently beside her.
He plopped into a nearby armchair. “I am always frank with you, milady. I have been nothing but, I promise you.”
“You want to know about me. You know that I am here looking for a husband of nobility.”
He swallowed. That was particularly frank, he had to admit. “Yes. I figured as much.”
“My older sisters are well married to men with no kingdoms of their own, and between the two of them, they are sure to inherit the throne. So I have turned my eyes outward for my own destiny, and that journey has led me here, to you.” That explained all the travel and languages. Or perhaps that was to make her an attractive potential queen. She glanced down as if gathering her thoughts. “Do you find me the slightest bit appealing?” she demanded.
She blinked for a second, a tiny curve in the corner of her mouth, before she straightened her expression. “Princess Evana Paranelin,” she said with a curtsy, the spray of white roses striking against her blue dress, beads swaying regally. She was striking. She was mesmerizing. Her beauty was its own diplomatic technique, and it was working on him.
Then, to his surprise, and perhaps to surprise them all, she stepped forward and looped her arm through his. “It has been such a long journey. Surely you and your attendants could show me to somewhere more comfortable?”
At this, he gave her a laughing sideways smile. He would play along. She smiled in return, and it was laughing, but not quite friendly.
“Of course, milady. If I have your leave, Father?”
His father nodded. “Yes, of course. We’ll be in the Proving Grounds. You’re welcome to join us, Princess.”
“Thank you,” she said smoothly, the picture of grace.
Aven led her from the hall. Her hand in the crook of his elbow was warm, and her body was close now, and in spite of the dress and cloak, he couldn’t miss her strong, lovely shape underneath it all. She was beautiful, all right, and she scared the hell out of him.
Aven actually had no idea where his guest was to reside, and fortunately, he didn’t need to. He followed an entourage of servants that sprang to life at the princess’s request.
“So, tell me of yourself, Prince Lanuken.”
“Call me Aven.” She nodded in acknowledgement. “Ah, well, I am son of the great Samul Lanuken, whose charming personage you’re already acquainted with. I am the lucky soul to be born crown prince of Akaria, and also a frequently tardy statesman.”
She smiled very slightly, keeping her eyes focused ahead of them. Was she mapping the halls in her memory, perhaps? Or was she looking for something aside from a mate?
“I, uh, I’ve lived in Estun all my life. I am an officer in our armed force and a noted tutor of aspiring young swordsmen and shield maidens. And a noted lover of apple dumplings as well.” He paused, waiting for a reaction. He got none. “What about you? Do you put that bow you carry to good use?”
“It is rare when I have a real occasion to use it,” she said. “But I am a skilled marksman, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I assumed as much. Do you practice any other combat sports?”
“Only verbal sparring, I’m afraid. In Isolte, it is not common for women to fight beyond the bow. I hear Akaria is very different.”
“Everyone learns to fight here,” he said simply. “Have you wanted to learn?”
“Not particularly,” she said, and nothing more.
“What of you, milady?” he said.
“I am the youngest of King Enin’s three daughters, skilled with a bow, drawing, and the harp. I speak six languages and have traveled much of this continent and all the outer islands.” She stopped as if that summed it up. A practiced speech.
“And how do you find Akaria?” he asked.
“Beautiful, if a little wild.”
Wild? He had heard his nation described more than a few ways before, but wild was not one of them. Far more of their land was settled than Takar or even Kavanar, for that matter, and the three nations took up most of the continent. What could she possibly mean by that, and how could he get at it while remaining polite?
Fortunately or unfortunately, he was out of time as they arrived at her room. Servants buzzed around delivering her belongings, stoking the low-burning fire, opening the curtains. Her room had windows. So Fayton had kept a few of the best rooms free, in spite of the Takaran throng invading the place. They had a wise and savvy steward.
When most of her things were settled, he gestured to a young woman waiting by the door. “Camil will be devoted to your service throughout your stay, so if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to let her or myself know.” Strange—something he said made the princess’s eyes widen ever so slightly. What had he said that unnerved her? No matter, he continued on. “Did you want to take some time to recover from your journey or perhaps join us in the Proving Grounds to watch the duels?”
“Perhaps you would have a moment for the two of us to speak frankly together. Alone.”
He could not help but raise his eyebrows. “I have as many moments as you need, my princess, as I am in no hurry to join the duels. But in Akaria, princes and knights such as myself live by a code. As part of that, to defend our honor, you and I cannot be alone.” Not to mention to prevent international incidents. “But let me send all but my most trusted away—I assure you, you can speak frankly around them.”
“Fine, I suppose that will have to do.” Aven had the strangest sensation that he had just avoided a trap. Didn’t matter. The Code was the way it was for a reason. The servants left without a specific request, and only Fayton and Camil remained. The princess motioned silently for the young woman to help her with her cloak, and Evana removed it slowly, dramatically, in spite of Camil’s many attempts to be brisk and efficient. Then the princess pretended to sit casually on the bed, although it looked carefully calculated to him, and she began removing her gloves one finger at a time.
Was it hotter in the room? Certainly it was only the fire they’d stoked. Was his face turning red? Oh, gods, was that flicker of the flames just the usual drafts… or something else? The princess eyed the fire as well. The unnatural flicker did not seem beyond her notice.
“Fine,” she said slowly. “Let us be frank. Would you care to have a seat? It will only be a moment, but you look… uncomfortable.” She patted the bed gently beside her.
He plopped into a nearby armchair. “I am always frank with you, milady. I have been nothing but, I promise you.”
“You want to know about me. You know that I am here looking for a husband of nobility.”
He swallowed. That was particularly frank, he had to admit. “Yes. I figured as much.”
“My older sisters are well married to men with no kingdoms of their own, and between the two of them, they are sure to inherit the throne. So I have turned my eyes outward for my own destiny, and that journey has led me here, to you.” That explained all the travel and languages. Or perhaps that was to make her an attractive potential queen. She glanced down as if gathering her thoughts. “Do you find me the slightest bit appealing?” she demanded.
