The Stolen Brides 02 -His Forbidden Touch Read Free Page B

door, as if to make sure it was still closed,
that they were still alone. Then her voice dropped to a whisper.
“Your Highness, I have served you for six years now, and I care a
great deal about your happiness. I wish you to know that you do not
have to do this.”
    “Take part in the betrothal celebration?”
Ciara looked at the door with a sigh. She could still hear the
merry music of harps and drums and viols on the other side. “Nay, I
should return to the festivities. I have been gone more than an
hour.”
    “Princess, I do not speak of the betrothal
celebration. I speak of your marriage to Prince Daemon.”
    Ciara’s head snapped around. “What?”
    “Everyone has been talking of the peace
accord. There are … rumors.”
    “What sort of rumors?”
    “Of loyal subjects who wish to fight on,”
Miriam whispered quickly. “Of men who are making plans even
now.”
    God’s breath, it could not be true! Ciara sat up sharply. “Nay, Daemon would crush them. He would kill
every last man at the first sign of rebellion. And punish their
women and children in the bargain. What could they hope to …” Her
racing thoughts calmed just as quickly. “Miriam, you know there are always rumors in the palace. They fly about and then
evaporate like mountain mist in a strong wind.”
    “Aye, Your Highness. And I have no evidence
that this is aught more than male bluster. But if it is true …”
She cast another nervous look at the door. “I could spirit you out
of the castle. Now. This night. You need not marry Prince Daemon.
You need not leave Châlons at all.”
    Ciara gaped at her in shock. Escape? The possibility dangled before her like a sparkling gem on a golden
chain, urging her to reach out and take it.
    But after a moment, she slowly shook her
head, her decision unchanged. “It is for the good of Châlons and my
subjects that I go. Our people have been strained to their limits.
Our supplies are low. Our knights are exhausted”—her voice dropped
to a whisper—“and the king is undone with grief.” She shut her eyes
tightly. “We cannot fight on. Under the circumstances, we
should be grateful that Prince Daemon’s terms were lenient.”
    “But, Your Highness, have you not heard the
tales of Daemon’s greed? His ruthlessness? It is said that he had
his own mistress stripped and beaten to death in front of his men
when she pilfered but a few coins from him.”
    “Aye, I have heard.” Ciara shuddered at the
frightening image, one of many that had haunted both her waking
hours and her nightmares. A year ago, when she had heard of that
particular bit of cruelty, she had pitied Daemon’s poor victim,
pitied any woman who fell into his clutches.
    Never realizing that she would soon be one
of them. His bride. Bound to him for the rest of her life.
    She stood abruptly. Miriam rose with her,
dipping into a curtsy.
    Ciara paced into the darkness of the room
and back again, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. It was not
the lack of a fire on the hearth that caused a deep chill to settle
over her.
    She returned to the window, looking out into
the night, searching for something solid to hold on to. Something
to strengthen her resolve.
    Her gaze fell on the newly repaired curtain
wall. The bronze cross gleaming in the moonlight. And she
remembered her brother’s last words to her.
    I swear that Châlons will know peace and
freedom once more.
    It was up to her to make his final wish come
true. She pressed her hand against the glass as if she could reach
up to Heaven and touch his face.
    For you, Christophe. For you.
    “My brother,” she said at last, fighting to
keep her voice steady, “gave his life for his country, Miriam.
Compared to that, is my sacrifice so great?” She stared down at the
single candle she had lit. “After seven years of war, peace has
come at last to our kingdom … and this marriage is mayhap the
only way to secure it. To end all the suffering and death, to forge
a lasting bond between