A Beast's Tale

Chapter 35

Training with my knights wasn’t unusual. I had my own troops, as did each of my brothers, and we all trained with them regularly. We needed to maintain our skills, of course, but we also needed to keep our men on their toes, ready for a spot check at all times. Those were only two of my many reasons for working with them today. My knights shared guard duty with my brothers’ knights, and I needed to find out how Gilbert evaded palace security last night. He’d escaped unnoticed, and he’d returned unnoticed. Two separate events, two separate times when he should have been caught. Either the guards were lax in their duties, or he had someone on the inside. Or both.

Of course, there was also the possibility that he had been mistaken for Leon. Leon was a little taller than Gilbert, with broader shoulders, but they both had black hair and dressed in black. Gilbert could have used one of Leon’s favorite escape methods: literally jumping out of a window. Leon was usually seen when he did that, though, and the guards didn’t even try to follow him because there was no catching or stopping him once he’d reached that point. He’d hit the ground running, and then he was gone. And he always returned by the front gate, usually to be greeted by an irritable Sariel with another prepared lecture about attending to his duties as a prince of Rhodolite.

Nobody had been seen jumping out of a window, and nobody had been seen leaving or returning late from any entrance. I posted two extra guards to each post. One or two people could be bought; an additional two pulled from a different prince’s troops eliminated the possibility of an inside job.

And then there was my concern about Baron Flandre. He had been one of my knights. One of my best knights. I’d rewarded his exceptional service with his title and his land. Had I so severely misjudged his character? Or had he changed that significantly since his retirement from the knighthood? Whatever the case, I intended to work with each of my knights individually over the next few days so I could get a feel for them. Nokto’s assignment was to perform thorough background checks on them all. Nearly a thousand men, and I wanted the information within the week. If I had another Flandre in the making, I was getting rid of him now.

Each of my brothers had a different focus when they trained their knights, suited to their individual strengths and fighting style. Mine was form. Once a swordsman had mastered that, speed and strength naturally followed, along with the freedom to think critically without having to focus on the now-instinctive use of the blade. I also encouraged my most skilled men to train with their non-dominant hand. The best way to disarm an opponent was a well-placed strike to the sword hand or arm. An injury in either of those locations, with or without dismemberment, had crippled many a knight and brought an end to their ability to serve. Swordsmanship came naturally to me, and I’d mastered form as a child and started training with my left hand as a teenager to stave off boredom. Now, I saw the ability to be ambidextrous as a method of assuring my continued usefulness on the battlefield should injury to my right hand or arm occur.

Today, I practiced my draw with the left hand as I sparred with my men one-on-one. My sword was belted over my left hip, as it was for all right-handed swordsmen, which meant drawing with the left hand was extraordinarily difficult. But, if my right hand was injured before I even had a chance to draw my sword, I needed to adjust quickly.

Very little served me better to release any pent-up anger or tension than swordplay. But I had to keep experimenting with new tactics and changing sparring partners regularly to keep my mind from straying to Ivetta.

Five more days.

I went to the library at five o’clock, physically spent after a long day of constant training. My decision not to clean up first was very intentional. She had her mother to consider, and if I nearly lost control again, I hoped the smell of my sweat would sufficiently repulse her so she would not be delayed from returning home on time.

At what point did she become the one with all the self control?

Probably at the same point when the sight of her bright green eyes and her sweet smile started making it hard to think. Like right now, standing in the doorway to the library, gripping the doorknob tightly with one hand as she looked at me from across the room and came obediently to my side. I spun on my heel and led her to the front gate without a word. The hallways were busy with servants and guests running to and fro, and I hoped that would prevent any conversation.

“Prince Chevalier,” she asked hesitantly, “why does everybody dislike the Benitoite princess so much?”

So much for that theory. But why was she asking me about the Benitoite princess, anyway? A woman far inferior to Ivetta in every way.

I found myself chuckling. I had never considered a princess to be inferior to a maid before now.

“What have you heard?”

“Well, you don’t think highly of her, and there was talk in the kitchens about Prince Jin taking her on a tour of Rhodolite. I try not to listen to gossip, but it was pretty clear that none of the servants like her, either.”

That explained it.

“She is Silvio’s cousin, and his female counterpart,” I replied simply.

“Oh.” She paused, and then she asked, “What’s her name?”

I glanced down at her. She was forgetting formalities again, not that I minded.

“What does that matter?”

She shrugged. “Nobody uses her name. Anybody would be unpleasant if everybody refuses to call them by their name.”

This time, it was her reasoning that triggered my chuckling. I refused to call her by her name, and she was anything but unpleasant.

“Arianna.”

“Well, her name is pretty, anyway.” She sighed. “Prince Chevalier, could I ask one more question?”

I was given a wide berth by everyone passing us by, as usual, but she was garnering strange looks from them, looks to which she seemed oblivious. I, however, took note. This would undoubtedly make it back to the head maid, who already had it out for Ivetta. Clavis would need to keep a close eye on her.

“Go on.”

“Maybe it’s a bit too personal, but I was just thinking how Prince Yves must be a lot like his mother because he’s so different from the rest of you, and I was wondering what you got from your mother?” She looked up at me, her green eyes hopeful, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Her hair and her eyes,” I replied.

She studied me, and then she said, “She must have been very pretty.”

Her timing couldn’t have been any more perfect. We’d just turned a corner into the entrance hall, which was devoid of onlookers, and I saw no reason to hold back. I smirked and grabbed her hand, pulling her behind a pillar.

“Prince Chevalier-” she protested, her cheeks flaring bright red as I slid my hands around her waist and pulled her close in the shadows.

“I hope you don’t think of me as pretty,” I said, leaning in to whisper directly into her ear.

“No, of course not,” she said quickly, her cheeks burning brightly as she stared at her hands on my chest. “What I meant was - I mean, not that you’re not-”

Her shy reluctance to admit that she found me attractive was amusing - and arousing. The sweat wasn’t working to repulse her. I chuckled and whispered again, “Better keep your voice down, unless you want people to get the wrong idea, little dove.”

The feel of her body pressed into mine was intoxicating, but I wanted more. I wanted her to look up at me, show me that desire I’d seen this morning. If she did, there would be no warning from me this time. I wanted, no, needed to taste her lips.

“I…I need to go home, Prince Chevalier,” she stammered, but she didn’t push me away, and she didn’t look up at me.

“Well, you are a fine tour guide, Yves,” Gilbert’s voice said as the palace doors opened.

I clenched my jaw and pulled her tighter to me. This was not the most secure location, and I didn’t want to be found by anybody, especially Gilbert.

“Thank you, Gilbert. I believe you now owe me a similar introduction to Obsidian,” Yves said, his voice much cooler than usual.

I felt like I’d been drenched in a bucket of cold water. What had Gilbert and Yves discussed? Was there a possibility for peace, even an alliance, or was Gilbert leading Yves on while he planned his invasion?

“Ah, yes, of course. I’ll have to discuss that with the Emperor, of course, but I can hopefully return the favor soon.”

As evasive and vague as always. Maybe Yves should be present for our off-the-record discussion tomorrow. It was possible Gilbert had unintentionally let something slip to Yves. It was even possible that Gilbert and Yves had arrived at a personal truce, and Yves’ presence could sway Gilbert in a favorable direction. Yves had always wanted to fulfill the role for which his birth had been intended - to be the bridge between Rhodolite and Obsidian. Now may be his chance.

“Prince Chevalier?” Ivetta asked hesitantly.

I looked back down at her, the angel in my arms that had somehow been forgotten. Her blush had faded, but it was still there, and she was looking up at me with concern in her green eyes.

“I got my hair and my eyes from my mother, too,” she said quietly. “Actually, other than being a little shorter than her, I look just like her.”

I smiled again. Easing the tension, redirecting me away from negative thoughts. She was quite good at that.

“She must have been very beautiful.”

She didn’t look away, though her blush deepened. But her words reminded me that I couldn’t keep her here much longer. I sighed and let her go.

“And she needs you now.”

“Y-yeah,” she said, stepping back and looking down at the marble floor. “But…I guess, I told Prince Gilbert, so I really should tell you…” She looked back up at me shyly. “No, I can’t say it.”

But, then again, if she wanted to stay…

I grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Say it.”

“I…well, you’re the only one who’s allowed to touch me like this,” she said sheepishly, looking down at her hands.

“Meaning he tried to touch you,” I said quietly, anger surging through my veins again.

“Nevermind,” she said, shaking her head in frustration. “I need to go.”

I watched in shock as she walked away. I blew it. She’d just given me an open invitation to touch her, and I blew it, too focused on protecting her to focus on just her. I almost grabbed her again, but I stopped myself. The moment was gone. I followed her into the outer court, silently seething at myself.

“Hey, now there’s a sight for sore eyes!” Jin said. He and Silvio were getting ready to board a carriage, but he walked over to Ivetta with a broad grin.

I sighed, irritated. She hadn’t even stopped blushing yet, and Jin would be quick to pick up on it and make assumptions. Assumptions that were unfortunately incorrect because I was a fool.

“Need a lift?” he asked, smiling down at her.

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind, Prince Jin,” she said, looking up at me for permission.

I gave a slight, reluctant nod. Jin knew better than to try anything, and he could help her if Silvio gave her any trouble. Not that she couldn’t handle Silvio herself. She’d beaten him at his game once already.

“Don’t worry, Chevalier, I’ll make sure she gets home safe,” Jin said, winking at me. “Let’s go, Ivetta.”

“Goodbye, Prince Chevalier.”

I made no reply, immediately turning on my heel and heading back into the palace rather than watch her leave with Jin. He wouldn’t have squandered that golden opportunity. What a fool I had been. Maybe a walk in the gardens would clear my senses before dinner. A rowdy dinner with all my brothers plus the foreign princes, talking about their day of socializing and tours of Rhodolite and all the fun they’d had while I sat in silence, trying not to think about Ivetta. After dinner, I’d have to talk to Yves about his day with Gilbert, again, trying not to think about Ivetta.

Tomorrow would mark one day closer to the end of the gala. I’d thought setting a deadline would be helpful for me, but it was taunting me instead.

Four more days. I wasn’t going to make it that long.