Once Upon a Romance 03 - With True Love's Kiss Read Free Page B

hunt, fighting
over prey with a wild gyrfalcon. Robin had been impressed by Soar’s spirit as
he watched her dive repeatedly at the much larger raptor, shrieking and clawing
at its eyes until at last the wild bird fled. He had cared for her personally
while the large gash on her right leg healed enough for her to hunt again. In
the first few days after her wounding she had attacked him more than once, but
Robin was patient with her, until they developed a wary bond of trust. In a way
they were alike, he thought, both trapped behind walls, instead of flying free
to do what they were born to do.
    Now he
gently stroked the back of one finger across her feathered breast. She cocked
her head in interest at the dove cages, and he laughed at her clear thoughts.
She was hungry. Doves were prey. Time to hunt.
    He hooded
her before she could attempt to take wing out of eagerness, and settled her
back on her perch. His eyes strayed back to the doves, cooing in their cage.
They reminded him of Bianca. Fragile little prey, timid and quiet, trying to
avoid the raptor’s notice. Soar let out a squawk, and the doves shuddered
nervously, batting their wings in the air—desperate to escape, but helpless to
do so. Robin suddenly felt the urge to open their cage, and let them all fly
free, but he stifled it. It would draw attention, and he could never explain
why he’d released them. He was as powerless to free them as he was to help
Bianca.
    He sighed,
his thoughts returning to his constant obsession. Why had Merriweather sent him
here?
    Robin heard
a heavy tread on the stairs. He cocked one eyebrow—the boys who fed the hunting
birds knew better than to ascend to this level of the mews—and opened his mouth
to rebuke whomever was trespassing in his domain. Then his visitor strode up
the last few steps, and Robin shut his mouth so fast he almost bit his tongue.
    Brannon had
come to call.
    The king
strode into the mews and cast a disparaging glance at the pigeons, still
pecking and scratching for the seeds that Robin had scattered.
    “Nasty
little things.” Brannon’s eyes glittered, much like Soar’s when she spotted
prey. “What are you doing up here, Goodfellow?”
    “Caring for
one of your injured falcons, your majesty.” Robin nodded his head towards the
peregrine, hooded on her perch. “We keep the hurt ones away from the other
hunting birds.”
    Brannon
nodded. He understood predator behavior. “I see.” His curiosity satisfied, the
king settled his cold eyes on Robin. “I’m just as pleased to find you here. It’s
rather isolated.”
    Robin felt
his breathing slow down, and fought to keep his expression pleasantly servile
while his body prepared for action. Perhaps Isabelle wasn’t the only poor fool
who’d been found out.
    “I have an
errand for you.”
    Or, perhaps
not. He let his puzzlement seep into his face. “An errand, your majesty?
    “Yes,
Goodfellow. An errand of a delicate nature.” The king settled one hip against
the pigeon cage. “I’m sure you’re the man to do the job.”
    “I will
certainly try, your majesty.”
    “Oh, you’ll
do better than try, Master Goodfellow. You’ll succeed. You see, I’ve been
watching you, these past months, ever since this idea first came into my head.
I’ve been watching all my huntsmen. I wanted one that was skilled, certainly,
but more importantly, I wanted one that was ruthless.” The king’s smile held
something nasty in it. “And, most important of all, I wanted one that didn’t
seem to like my daughter in the slightest.”
    Robin felt
his guts go cold, but he raised one eyebrow, as if in interest. “Oh?”
    “Yes. You
see, Nieve has become something of a problem for me.” Brannon pushed up to his
feet and paced in the narrow aisle between the cages. “I hear whispers among my
nobles, muttering about my rule, and their dissatisfaction, and how treason can
be patriotism under the right circumstances.” The king’s voice was harsh with
anger, and