Over a hearty meal of vegetable soup and some of Jocasta’s fresh bread, the girl eventually opened up about her older sister.“Don’t think you’ve been abandoned, Princess,” she said, placing her elbows on the table. “Someone will come for you when the time is right. I do what I can nowadays to make up for not being able to do anything to help my kin.”She had to ask. “How old are you?”“Seventeen. Got a birthday coming up in a few weeks.”“You look so young,” she said, taking in the round face and rosy lips, the fair hair and occasional glimpse of dimples.Becca snorted. “Have you looked in a mirror lately, my lady?”“Call me Eithne,” she said. “I insist.”After several attempts, the girl mastered the pronunciation. She poured them both some hot cider before starting to put flesh on the bones of her tale.“In Arcadia, the gambling city, they say it is possible to overcome poverty in many ways, not all of them legal. You just need something to sell. Women with no protector are fair gam
The village wasn’t all that stable. Becca had told her that much as they went for what was probably an ill-advised walk along the cliff top a few days later. Eithne just had to get out in the fresh air for a while. She knew she was probably tempting Fate and possibly endangering her companion, but she hadn’t obliged her to come along. Unless … had Jocasta charged her with keeping her safe? When she asked what had changed, the girl volunteered there were more cutpurses about and, she had heard, slavers. Eithne’s heart began to beat faster. “We should go back,” she said, pulling the borrowed shawl more tightly around her shoulders. The gannets were especially noisy now, though she didn’t mind that. Plucking wildflowers, once a no-no, was a delight since she knew they wouldn’t wilt on the way back. So often as a child her daisy chain had withered, her miserable face leading Clara to impose a ban. Whether that had ever been for her own good she couldn’t be sure. Maybe she was jinxed,
The first person she saw was Marcus, the one who had bound Xander to a chair. Wanting to turn and run, she forced herself to look at their faces in turn. The guard beside her cracked a joke, though some of them were slow to smile. No Flavius, which was worrying. “Do you know why I am here?” she asked, vexed because her voice sounded so small. One of her hands was trembling and she grasped it with the other one before clasping them in front of her to disguise the fact. “Yes, Princess,” one of them said. He looked older than the others, and at least he had afforded her some respect. “My name is Eithne,” she told them. “It would please me if – if … ” There was no easy way of completing that sentence without implying shame. “You are still the daughter of a Queen, my lady. No matter what.” It was the same man who spoke up, coming to her rescue as easily as if it were second nature. Had he had his own family in another life? “What’s your name, gladiator?” she asked. “Carl,” he said
The woman they sent to his quarters was unusual in that her face was wet with tears. Carl came close to hammering on the by now locked door and insisting on a replacement, but he was intrigued. No other female had ever presented as reluctant, and especially not after a victory. She must be new.“Sit,” he ordered, simply, as he unwound the bindings around his trousers.Some fighters preferred leather as it made a statement; he let his prowess do the talking.“Where?” she asked.He looked up in surprise. It was a strange question given that there was little other than a bed in the small room. Carl patted the opposite side to where he was perched and she moved forward reluctantly. She reminded him of a deer prepared to bolt at any moment.“What’s your name?”“My real one, or the one they told me to use?”His head snapped up, concentration suspended for the time being.“Whichever you prefer to disclose.”“Ginny,” she said, perching herself on the mattress. She held herself stiffly, as if
He told himself it was only a fallback position. In reality, Xander saw no way back to Ormond unless he waged war. Curse Ephron for not warning him about the old witch. The heir apparent had been so wrong about Eithne, too. If he had one regret, it was that he hadn’t treated her like the lady she clearly had been raised to be. Though not by Clara, obviously. Even if he had considered cutting his losses and moving on, there was the Princess to think about. He couldn’t just leave her there. This whole gladiator idea meant that people were bound to be exploited. He sought out Drago, so often the voice of reason, and found him rocking his newborn son to sleep. There had been an initial panic because of his premature arrival but all was well now. “Have you come up with a plan yet, Commander?” “I’m still working on it, Will,” he said, through gritted teeth. “It’s a tricky one. Still, at least we have two men on the inside.” “They’d better not harm a single hair on her head.” A smile p
The practice sessions were endless. All the maidens were required to attend, some even wearing a favour bestowed by their gladiator. Eithne fumed and it wasn’t because she had missed out on that, being branded a harlot by her own mother. That was a jousting tradition, though her own knight was long gone.Because Clara was absent, probably receiving yet another massage in the royal chambers, she made it her business to speak to each of the girls. It wouldn’t harm to let them know the latest and hopefully receive their take on each combatant.Not wanting to single out the other high-born ones, and since she knew and trusted Flavius – Jocasta’s words of caution causing her to doubt suddenly – Eithne started with Hermione. If Marcus were to emerge victorious, they needed a plan in case he reneged on his vow.The miller’s daughter was plump and rather nervous, twisting her hands endlessly until she reached out to stop her.“I’m on your side. Truly,” she said. “How was he when you had that
The young Princess was a born storyteller – not a liar, though, he was convinced of that – recounting details of her early life as if they had happened to someone else. If he were in the market, Xander reflected, she might have made a good queen. Where was another matter – that accent! – yet it was becoming easier to decipher as time went on.*It was the day of her first appearance in the royal court and King Rupert’s youngest daughter was nervous, excited and hiding a secret from everyone except her personal maid. Even so she sat patiently enough and upright on the carved wooden chair, staring at her reflected image in the mirror atop her dressing table, while Beatrice combed her long dark locks. The brocade gown was stiff and laced tightly at the back. It bore the faint aroma of the chest it had been stored in for so long, dense wood and something indefinable, like old perfume except more bitter.Had it really once belonged to her lady mother, the Queen?Cassie resisted the very re
The sun was high in the sky when they began the entertainment in front of the royal court. In some ways Eithne was glad the girls weren’t permitted to watch, though news filtered through after each one-to-one battle. Marcus was yet to fight, and it was heartening to hear that Flavius had bested his opponent, Hadrian. Not that she had anything against the veritable giant. It spared Ava further indignity and no doubt she would regard it as a blessing. Unless she were still smarting about what Finn had done. It seemed to Eithne she’d had feelings for him. Had he done right by her? Only time would tell. And if he came looking for her in the future, would that be such a bad thing? She felt she was helping her subjects – some of them, anyway, given that Isabel hailed from the north and Ava from across the water – and tried to take pride in that. Brutus was up next, she understood, facing Nero. From what she had been told there was only one winner unless the latter threw the contest to spa