All Chapters of Four Realms of Desire : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The following day, Loren sat among her ladies-in-waiting in an alcove by the eastern windows of the great hall, listening to gossip about court fashions and trying very hard not to fling herself out the nearest window.Her mind kept returning to dark eyes and accusations of treason. The Duke’s words echoed with uncomfortable persistence.Be careful which battles you choose to fight here.Her fingers twisted lightly in her skirts. Had she chosen unwisely? Pushed too hard against a man whose influence over the Prince ran deep? Possibly, though in her defence, he was remarkably difficult not to argue with.“Loren?” Mariselle’s voice cut through her distraction. “Loren, are you listening? The Duke approaches.”He appeared in the archway a moment later. He wore his cavalry uniform, dark braids lying flat against his coat. The ladies’ chatter died immediately, replaced by the rustle of silk as they rose and curtsied with the precision of women who understood exactly where power resided with

Inside the summer house, Mariselle sat with Willa upon a cushioned bench. Through the windows, they watched the Prince pointing to something in the water while Loren leaned forward with interest. The scene was charming, domestic, exactly what one would hope to see between a future king and queen.“Your Prince seems quite taken with my sister,” Mariselle observed.“He is fond of her,” Willa replied carefully.Mariselle laughed.“Fond. What a wonderfully lukewarm word.”“I beg your pardon?”“Fondness.” Mariselle leaned back against the cushions. “It’s what people settle for when they can’t have what they truly want. Comfortable, reliable fondness.”“Fondness can grow into deeper feeling, given time,” Willa said.“Can it?” Mariselle studied him with disconcerting directness. “Perhaps for some people. Perhaps for Loren, who still believes duty and happiness can coexist if one is resigned enough.”“But not for you?” Willa asked.“Absolutely not for me.” Mariselle’s smile flashed bright and

What happened next occurred too fast for Loren to properly resist. Alix lifted her bodily from the chair. She yelled at him to put her down, her hands beating against his chest. He carried her across the room and threw her onto the bed. He leaned over her, one hand on either side of her shoulders, his face inches from hers.“Am I intimidating you now?” he asked, voice low and dangerous. Loren swallowed. “A little.”“Do you not think I could tear your dress from your shoulders and have my guard listen outside the door while you reconsider your accusations.”Loren’s lips trembled.“You wouldn’t dare,” she said shakily. Her fingers gripped the blankets, white-knuckled. “No?” His voice dropped lower, rougher. His fingers traced up her calf, over her knee, pushing the fabric of her skirt higher as he went."And now?" he asked.Loren's breath caught. She should tell him to stop. She should slap him away or do any of the things a princess should do. Her eyes were bright and feverish, her

The bodyguard arrangement settled into an uncomfortable rhythm. Loren discovered, to her irritation, she could anticipate the Duke’s movements with disturbing accuracy.When they entered the great hall, she knew he would stand three paces to her left. When courtiers approached to pay their respects, she could predict which ones would draw his attention. When he watched her ladies-in-waiting, she knew he was assessing them for treachery.On this day, after the morning’s engagements, Loren expected the familiar routine: the Duke would escort her back to her chambers where she would spend another afternoon trapped inside.Instead, he gestured toward the outer courtyard.“This way,” he said simply.She looked at him with the same expression she used when discovering something unpleasant on the bottom of her shoe.“I beg your pardon?”The Duke sighed with the patience of someone accustomed to dealing with difficult horses.“You have spent a week complaining about being confined to the fort

Count Xander was proving remarkably difficult to dislike.What had begun as a formal dinner had become an evening of laughter and easy conversation. He appeared to possess the rare ability to make people forget their worries, at least for a little while.Loren realised she was laughing, truly laughing, for the first time since arriving at Windrider. She leaned forward, drawn into the easy banter.“Lady Loren, I must confess,” the Count said, turning toward her, “having met three of the four Greenborne princesses, I wonder how any man is supposed to choose among such beauties.”Loren’s pulse fluttered. “That is the most artful diplomatic compliment I’ve ever heard.”“The Lady Rowan is your betrothed,” the Prince observed. “If I recall correctly.”“Ah, Rowan.” The Count’s smile softened. “We met at King Arion’s Hall some time ago. Love matches are rare enough in our position. When one presents itself, a man would be foolish not to recognise it.”Loren felt Mariselle glance at her. It wa