Demetrius (Brethren Origins Book 2) Read Free Page B

between ye?”
    “Naught beyond simple conversation, as he knew not my identity.”  In vivid detail, she relived the brief exchange and their shared devotion to duty.  When Athelyna stumbled upon Demetrius’s tent, she thought him a much prayed for deliverer.  Instead, he was her downfall.  “Yet he was nice to me, when he could have turned me away.”
    “And he tried naught inappropriate with ye?”  Gerwald narrowed his stare.  “He sampled not thy wares?”
    “Thou dost Sir Demetrius and I a grave disservice with thy offensive speculations, brother.”  Nay, she fretted not in her husband-to-be’s company, as he gave her no reason to fear him.  As for her relation, he presented an altogether different quandary.  “Wherefore hast thou done this to me?  Wherefore hast thou sold me in bondage to another man?  What hath I done to ye, that thou dost treat me thus?”
    “But I am blameless in regard to thy misfortune of fate.”  He swaggered to her trunk and foraged through her personal belongings.  With a scowl, he stood upright, strolled to the entry, opened the door, peered into the hall, and snapped his fingers.  “Thou were born a woman, and that is no fault of mine.  As thou hast correctly asserted, thy possibilities are limited to wife, mother, peasant, artisan, maid, nun, or whore, and the final determination of which must perforce yield to my inclinations.”  A servant, carrying a burgundy velvet gown, scurried into the room.  To the domestic, Gerwald said, “Dress Mistress De Moutiers for dinner with His Majesty, and plait her hair, as her current style is too severe to garner favorable notice.”
    “Aye, sir.”  The maid curtseyed.
    “I am to sup with the King?”  Athelyna came alert.  “I am to make my debut at court?”
    “Indeed, thy presence is requested at a feast in thy groom’s honor.”  He snickered.  “And do not be too angry, Lily.  I selected Sir Demetrius because his reputation, as well as that of his allies, is impeccable, as I would not surrender ye to just anyone.”
    “If thou art concerned for my well being, then wherefore dost ye forfeit me?”  Was it possible her brother regretted what he did?  Could she persuade him to void the arrangement?  “It is not too late, if thou dost lament thy actions.  The sisters would take me back, mayhap with a reduction in my dowry, if thou dost need the money, and I should be forever obliged.”
    “Nay.”  And so her optimism dwindled to naught.  “Thou wilt bathe and garb thyself as befits thy station, and thou wilt charm and entice Sir Demetrius, so I will take my leave.”
    Ear-splitting silence fell on the luxuriously appointed accommodation, with its counterpane, draperies, and pillow coverings of matching rich blue damask.  The hand-tooled mahogany furnishings bespoke wealth and power, in stark contrast with her modest room at the convent.
    A small army of attendants conveyed an ancere and warm water to the washing area.  Against her reticence, she complied.  And as she shed her humble attire, so she abandoned her dreams.  Naked, stripped of her dignity and her ambitions, she mourned as the maid polished and primped Athelyna for her date with destiny.
    Anon, she gazed at her reflection in the long mirror, and the woman staring back looked naught like the aspiring nun.  Bedecked in the new garment, which featured a scooped neckline that bared far more than she ever would have dared, a bodice laced so tight she could scarcely draw breath, long sleeves, billowy lappets, and a skirt that dragged the floor, she almost did not recognize herself.
    Nervous, she wrung her fingers and paced, until the King’s guards came for her, and their fierce demeanor set her heart pounding.  In the narrow stone passage aglow in the soft light from cresset lamps, she summoned courage and marched in rhythm with her attendants.
    The corridor opened to a vast expanse, which led to a minstrels’ gallery and a huge