Princess Avenger - Brightcastle Saga Book 1 Read Free Page B

dead in the ground made
fury burn away her fear. I have eight years of arms training! I must just
be harder; as hard as the captain.
    Unbidden, his
gold-flecked eyes popped into her mind and she shivered. The spark
his touch had evoked made her uneasy. Was it just that strangers
did not usually touch a princess? The captain was an altogether
different species; a man who would do as he pleased and, she
suspected, who was accustomed to having his own way.
    What if the
captain deduced her identity? If he were canny enough to divine
Hetty’s true self it would take great care on Alecia’s part to stay
out of his clutches. She had one advantage: she knew him now, and
that would make it easier to avoid him. His eyes again came to mind
and her spark of optimism died. She suspected he wouldn’t rest
until he solved the puzzle of the youth who had attacked the
mercenary and dumped the chamber pot on his head.
     
    Alecia studied her reflection in the huge gilded
mirror outside the dining room. Strings of pearls were intertwined
around loops of her long blonde hair and piled high in the latest
Kingdom style. A marquise diamond, suspended from a gold chain,
rested like a glistening tear upon her forehead. The lavender silk
of the gown left her milky shoulders bare while the fitted bodice
emphasized her full bosom, displaying an almost indecent amount of
cleavage. Silver beading on the bodice and skirt caught the light,
and full lace sleeves almost hid her hands. She wore no jewellery
other than the diamond on her brow.
    She examined
her left eye. A few deft touches with powder and kohl liner
concealed the faint traces of her fight this morning. Her father
would never notice. She smiled at the junior page who waited to
admit her and he pulled open the door. Alecia stepped over the
threshold.
    Shadows danced
in the flickering light of the three tall candles on the long
dining table. As usual, Alecia’s eye was drawn to the tapestries
and paintings depicting Zialni ancestors in various scenes of
battle and ceremony. A portrait of the King, her father’s older
brother, hung above the fireplace. Alecia’s father, Prince Jiseve
Zialni, sat at the far end of the table below the portrait. There
was a close resemblance in the sharp blue eyes and strong jaw,
however King Beniel’s hair and beard were golden while the prince’s
almost black. She frowned as she stared at the painting of her
uncle, with his open countenance and ready smile. It was in stark
contrast to her father, who had become withdrawn and secretive in
the four years following her mother’s death.
    The prince’s
head tilted towards his advisor, Lord Giornan Finus, who sat at his
right hand. Alecia allowed her eyes to rest on the elderly lord for
a moment. Since Finus’ arrival in the realm, her father had become
brutally obsessed with the trappings of wealth, to the detriment of
his people. If not for Finus, Prince Zialni would still be a
benevolent monarch. Instead, the prince collected exorbitant taxes
from the populace in a constant quest to maintain his lifestyle.
Alecia abhorred Finus and his influence, spending much of her free
time trying to restore the balance of justice as she saw it. She
was losing the battle.
    Feeling
eyes upon her, Alecia glanced at the seat to her father’s left and
the breath caught in her throat. The piercing gaze of her dark
rescuer trapped her. Why was he here, in her home, at her table, on
the very day she had slipped his grasp and vowed to avoid him? This
could be no coincidence. My secret is out! The room lurched and Alecia staggered towards the
nearest chair. The captain was on his feet and at her side as if by
magic, his palm cupping her elbow and his other hand at her
waist.
    Twice in the
one day he had laid hands upon her and now his heat seared through
the flimsy fabric of her gown. He was so hot! Alecia did not look
at his face, desperate to delay the moment when her deception, her
crime, would be exposed. She took a deep