Free The King of Anavrea (Book Two of the Theodoric Saga) by Rachel Rossano Page B

away.
“Tell me about your dream. Is it recurring?”
    “Yes.” She shivered. “My brothers and I left the
castle on one of our many trips into the woods on the grounds. They
would let me ride behind one of them. That morning, we stopped for
lunch in a strange place. The boys left me to spread things out and
prepare the meal. They said they would not be out of my calling
range. The stream lay only a bit beyond our lunch site and the
horses needed water.”
    Reclaiming her hands, she hugged herself. “I
smelled the man, but not until too late. He grabbed me and covered
my mouth before I could scream. I have no real memories of what
happened after that. If only the dream ended there.”
    Large arms encircled her and dragged her into
Ireic’s lap. Tucking her against his warmth, he held her.
     
    As much as Ireic wanted to comfort her and tell
her she did not have to think about it ever again, he could not.
For both their sakes she needed to face the fear.
    “But in the dream…”
    Her frame shook. “In my dream, the man hisses
terrible threats in my ears. He threatens to kill my brothers if
they find us. He brags of the fame he would gain for single
handedly wiping out the male heirs to the throne.” Turning her face
into his shoulder, she took a deep breath. “My brothers come back
and start calling my name. Then Aarint comes closer to the bush the
man has dragged me behind. The branches before me rustle as Aarint
says he thinks he sees something.”
    “And then you wake up screaming.”
    She nodded against his shoulder and fresh
moisture dampened the fabric of his shirt. He ran his hand up and
down her back for a while before asking softly. “Is it the same
man?”
    She took so long to reply Ireic wondered if she
slept, but finally she shuddered. “Yes. The voice is the same.”
    He dropped his chin to rest on her head amid the
dark rumpled curls.
    “I will find a way to deal with him.”
    She did not respond. When he sought her face, he
found she was asleep. Carefully, he disengaged her fingers from his
shirt and tucked her back under the blankets. He did not know how,
but he had to keep anyone from ever harming her again. Laying down
again on the other side of the bed, he closed his eyes. Despite the
need to capture a few hours of sleep before the council reconvened
in the late morning, his mind raced with questions. Who had
commissioned her kidnapping? Who was the fiend who had done the
deed? How could he prove it and see justice done without exposing
Lirth to more distress and pain?
     
    __________
     

Chapter Seven
     
     
     
    “Your Majesty.” Tretan held up two formal coats
for Ireic’s selection. One was navy blue and the other dark gray.
His shirt collar itched already and both possibilities looked
equally uncomfortable.
    “The gray.” Ireic turned back to the mirror and
tugged at his shirt. “Lirth?”
    “Yes, sire?” she answered from her perch on the
end of the bed. He smiled at her in the mirror although he knew she
could not see it. Wearing one of his favorite tunics with the
sleeves rolled up so she could use her hands, she looked warm and
adorable. He admired her tousled dark curls and sleepy smile. As
soon as he had a chance to arrange it, she was going to be sharing
his bed every night. Trahern and Eve did it. Nothing beyond
tradition kept them in separate bedchambers as far as he knew. It
was a flimsy excuse.
    “I am going to have Isack escort you back to
your rooms as soon as I leave for the council.” Her reflected image
tried to hide the disappointment and prepare for bad news. “Larissa
should be there to greet you. I ordered that she be fetched from
the kitchens. I hope you can manage with only one attendant,
because I have relieved all of the others of their duties
indefinitely.”
    Her quiet smile gave him the answer he
needed.
    “Good.” He turned to allow Tretan to assist him
with the chosen coat.
    There was a soft tapping at the outer door. A
footman went to open it.