Free Chained (Chained Trilogy) by Elise Marion Page B

stone path caused Gaiwan to pull away from her swiftly. Gwen was relieved when Lord Orrick appeared, striding purposefully toward them beneath the arches.
    “My uncle,” she explained when Gaiwan’s jaw tightened in irritation.
    “Send him away, I am not yet done with you.”
    “That would hardly be polite, my prince. Perhaps we should save it for another time. We’ll have our entire lives to spend in each other’s company.”
    Gaiwan was once again the picture of a jovial prince as he smiled. “My sweet Gwen, how right you are. Ah, forgive me. Your kiss caused me to lose nearly all of my wits. What a delight. Oh, Lord Orrick, good evening.”
    Her uncle was upon them now, eyeing Gaiwan closely. “Your Grace,” he said politely, sweeping into a bow. “I trust you found the garden diverting.”
    Gaiwan’s smoldering gaze rested on her. “Aye, very much so. What a wonder your niece is. I am a fortunate man.”
    “Not quite yet,” Orrick reminded him with a tight smile. “At least, not until after the wedding.”
    Gaiwan’s fingers flexed at his side , and Gwen could see the petulance pulling at the corners of his mouth again. “Of course,” he answered lightly. “Please excuse me, milord. Gwendolyn, shall I escort you back to the hall?”
    Gwen exchanged a glance with her uncle before turning a bright smile upon Gaiwan. “I shall join my uncle. I believe he intends to visit with my lord father, and I should accompany him.”
    “Aye,” Orrick added quickly, “Lord Clarion craves the company of his only daughter. It will not be long before she is gone from here, and his heart will languish for her. Pray, excuse us, Your Grace.”
    Gaiwan bowed to Gwen. “Until tomorrow morning, then, my love.” His lips found her cheek once more, and then he was gone, his long, lean figure a retreating shadow beneath the morning glories. Once he was out of sight, Orrick took her arm and led her to a low stone bench.
    “Now then,” he said, now that they were alone , “what’s this important matter that could not wait until tomorrow?”
    Gwen gazed into her uncle’s dark eyes, set in a face so similar to her father’s it was uncanny. Dark skin was weathered and lined with age, his jaws cloaked in a thick , black beard, which he adorned with silver rings as many of the lords of Dinasdale were wont to do. His hair was long, having never been cut, the ebony strands streaked with silver. His braids were pulled back from his head by an ornate silver clasp, falling between his shoulder blades. His warrior’s body had not withered in the years that Alemere had been at peace. While his middle was a bit rounder than it had been in his youth, Orrick’s powerful arms and shoulders were still as strong as they’d ever been.
    “I trust Evrain told you what happened in the woods today?”
    Orrick grinned, stroking his beard. “Aye, girl. How loudly did those four piggies squeal when you gave them a taste of your arrowheads?”
    Normally, Gwen would have laughed at her uncle’s teasing, but the pin against her breast was a heavy weight, reminding her of the gravity of the situation. She reached beneath her surcoat and retrieved it, holding it out to him. The moonlight reflected off the surface, causing the brown enamel to gleam.
    “The men I killed were wearing these,” she said, her voice low. “Dressed in black, and attempting ra pe and murder on Father’s lands while wearing the mountain of House Maignart.”
    Orrick’s dark brows furrowed as he took the pin from her palm, inspecting it closely. “Daleraians,” he spat with a shake of his head. “Why does this not surprise me?”
    Gwen knew her uncle had no love for the people of Daleraia. He’d been newly appointed as the lord of Freyvale when the now deceased King Terrowin II had torn it asunder in sword and flame. His anger over the death of his wife, Queen Krea, had enraged the king of Daleraia to madness, and the people of Freyvale had suffered for it. It did