Tied to the Crown, Page 2

  One person that wouldn’t forget Aaryana for as long as he lived was Rudro. He thought about her all the time. Memories of her plagued his mind all day, worries over how she was doing on that ship and how she’d fare in Roshdan kept him up at night. Well, she’s probably already in Roshdan.

  Sometimes, he pictured her wearing the clothes he’d sneaked onto the boat for her. The various items, apart from the flower necklace, had been birthday gifts he’d purchased for her over the years. Purchased but never given. The necklace with the quartz crystals was the only thing that he’d bought knowing that she’d definitely end up possessing it—it was, after all, the blessing he’d planned to give her once she was Crowned.

  When he came to pack everything to smuggle onto the ship for her, the necklace was the piece that he didn’t want to include in the parcel. It would hurt her too much, remind her of what she’d lost. The Throne that she’d never ascend. But then he thought that she could sell it when she got to Roshdan and packed it with the rest of the gifts. She would need every penny she could get her hands on when the crew left her to fend for herself in a strange new Island.

  Aaryana wondered whether the Head of the Royal Guards had timed her induction around Wyett’s schedule. The Prince was going to be in a Council meeting all afternoon and wouldn’t be in his rooms when the Head showed her around his quarters. As the big man led her to the east wing of the castle where the Prince’s chambers were situated, they spotted him heading out for the meeting, a dozen guards trailing after him.

  When Wyett passed them, he didn’t look at Aaryana, but his body language suggested that he’d seen her. And he wasn’t happy that she was in his part of the Palace. He most likely assumed that the Head was simply showing her around the castle, and not specifically his rooms.

  When he finds out I’m going to be in his chambers all night, every night… She wasn’t sure what he’d do, what she’d do. It would be unprofessional of her to flirt with him when she was supposed to guard his door. After what happened yesterday morning, what he’d called her—whore; the word still made her feel sick inside—she didn’t think that sort of flirting would succeed in seducing him, anyway.

  But seduce him I will. She had to. It would solve all her problems if she managed to win his hand. She would find a way to melt that icy anger in him, melt his heart—she’d have plenty of time to figure out how with all the quiet time she’d get each night.

  The Head gestured to the guards standing outside Wyett’s chambers to let them in. She found herself in an enormous lounge with a fireplace that took up almost a whole wall. No fire was lit, seen as it was still summertime, but she thought it was large enough to keep the entire suite warm and cosy in the colder months. There were four doors, one leading to a library, one to a bathroom, a music room, and the final door opened to a narrow corridor. The bedroom was most likely at the end of it.

  “When the Prince leaves his rooms during the day,” the Head said, “the guards posted at each of these doors go with him. When he returns, they return to their posts. The doors to all these rooms stay open at all times, unless the Prince opts to close them when he needs privacy. Follow me.”

  He led her into the narrow hallway, lit with torches, and stopped outside a closed door. Shaking his head, he mumbled how it would take time for everyone to get used to this new regime.

  “This is your position. You will be the only guard here due to the size of this hallway. But there will be two guards at the other end of the corridor, all within earshot.”

  The Head opened the door to the Prince’s bedchamber and beckoned for her to accompany him inside. The room was furnished very similarly to hers, just bigger and brighter thanks to the large glass doors that opened to a balcony, something that her chambers didn’t have. The Head seemed satisfied that at least the door to the adjoining bathing room was open and the balcony door was locked.

  “Once the Prince retires for the night,” he told her, “he will close his door, but not lock it. You are to monitor every sound, every thing, until he rouses in the morning, or until the day guards arrive to relieve you. If you sense the Prince is in danger, you will call out to the others before entering his room. And deal with the threat.”

  “Is it likely that the rebels will dare attack the castle?” Aaryana asked tentatively.

  Three long seconds passed before he said, “They could.”

  Hmm. What Seth said yesterday.

  “I’m not a guard, Sir. I have trained my entire life to fight, amongst other things. But being a guard wasn’t one of them. Is His Majesty sure that he wants me as the last line of defence for the Crown Prince?” That’s what she was going to be. At night time, anyway.

  “I asked the King that very question,” he replied as he ushered her out of the room. “And he said that he wouldn’t trust anyone else with that responsibility.”

  “But he hardly knows me…”

  “I said that, too. His Majesty assured me that he knows enough about you to trust that you won’t let anyone die on your watch.”

  Once the Head showed her around the castle and talked her through guard protocol, he took her to get her uniform fitted. The Royal Guards donned deep blue jackets and pants, but those posted inside the chambers wore a lighter blue. Aaryana asked the tailor to make her jacket a little shorter and the pants tighter.

  “Why?” asked the Head, even as the tailor nodded in agreement.

  “I don’t like having extra material flapping around that the opponent could grab hold of,” was her matter-of-fact answer. “If your tailors can manage it, I would strongly suggest that all the guards’ uniforms are adjusted in the same way.”

  The Head thought about it for a minute, before saying, “I will bring it up with His Majesty.”

  “I will stay with the tailor while he fixes my uniform,” she told him. “And I will take up my position at eight on the dot.”

  Wyett would return from dinner to find her outside his bedroom. Equal amounts of excitement and dread filled her at the thought of seeing his expression.

  When the Head left the room, Aaryana made herself comfortable in a spare chair and watched the tailor snip and stitch her uniform. She didn’t like the look of it, but she supposed uniforms weren’t supposed to be pretty, but practical instead.

  She admired the outfit she was in now, though. The short brown jacket, matching pants, and ankle-high boots, all of which she’d purchased from the nearby market this morning with the portion of her salary that she’d been paid in advance. The page that delivered her advance pay first thing this morning hadn’t clarified what proportion of her full salary she’d been given—a quarter, a third, half?—but the considerable amount of silver in the velvet pouch allowed her to buy tunics, pants, jackets, and boots of the highest quality. And she still had a sizeable sum leftover.

  The gift the page delivered… the magnificent crossbow that King Keyan wanted her to have, as thanks for saving his life was accompanied by a note.

  Was she that easy to read? Or had the King noticed that she’d swapped the ordinary sword she’d been wielding in the forest for the rebel leader’s fancier blade? If the King knew, there was very little point of her hiding the sword under her bed, along with her mother’s sunlight stone. If the King knew, he wasn’t rebuking her for stealing it.

  Wyett, on the other hand, wouldn’t be too pleased that his enemy’s sword was in his home. He would probably demand that the weapon got melted down, the weapon that had nearly beheaded his father.

  She didn’t think she’d be rushing to finish her dinner and running to the Crown Prince’s quarters at two minutes to eight, but that’s what she was doing. The time of her shift just snuck up on her. Plus, she’d gotten a little carried away with cleaning and polishing her new crossbow.

  Aaryana skidded to a stop in front of the guards outside the Prince’s door, both of whom she recognised from earlier. They seemed to remember her, too. The two men gave her a mean look as they let her inside.

  O
ne of them murmured, “They have the whole day to get ready for their shift, and still, they cut it close.”

  At least her lateness wasn’t a rarity amongst the night shift guards.

  In the lounge, night guards were already in position outside the four doors, and she hurried past the two that were by the corridor that led to the bedroom. She should have said hello, introduced herself, but she was pretty certain that Wyett was mere seconds away from returning from the dining hall. She didn’t want to give him a reason to fire her on her first day. Which he would. Gleefully.

  Aaryana knew the moment Wyett entered his chambers from the several pairs of feet that walked inside his rooms. After confirming that the night guards were in place, the day guards left, bidding the Prince goodnight. The two men that had let her into the Prince’s quarters were also replaced, she was sure.

  Interestingly, Wyett spotted her almost immediately, even though his eyes had merely glanced her way as he lowered himself into the futon in the centre of the lounge. He jumped to his feet and clenched his fists.

  “What is she doing here?” he hissed.

  Aaryana pitied the men and women in that room. Had the Head of the Royal Guards equipped them with what to say if they were asked about Aaryana?

  It seemed that he had, because one of the guards at the other end of her corridor said, “She guards your bedroom door, Your Highness.”

  “She what?”

  Wyett was glaring at her, teeth exposed. Aaryana held her ground. She hadn’t plotted and schemed her way into this position. The King had ordered it. So, she jutted out her chin and palmed the pommel of her sword, a generic blade similar to the ones that all the guards carried.

  No one dared to reply to his question. Wyett spun on the spot and marched out of his room, no doubt going to the Head’s office. Aaryana and her colleagues followed—they had to go wherever he went at night—and fell into line behind him.

  Wyett didn’t bother knocking as he stormed into the Head Guard’s office, barking an order to his guards to stay out in the hallway. The big man seemed to be expecting him. His desk was clear of paperwork and he was sitting back in his chair, seemingly passing the time until Wyett arrived to give him an earful. Which he would.

  What in the world was the Head thinking posting that girl anywhere near him?

  “Explain yourself,” he spat at the man.

  The Head was well aware of what he was referring to. Whom he was referring to.

  “Your Highness, I apologise for not giving you prior notice,” the man said, too confident to be apologetic. “But it was your father’s wish.”

  That stopped him short. “My father?”

  “He wants to make good use of the Princess’s skills, and as his Heir, His Majesty wants you to have the best people watching you.”

  “But I don’t want her watching me!” He didn’t want her anywhere near him. “And don’t call her Princess!”

  Unfortunately, she might actually be just that. The Chief Riding Officer had arrived at the Palace this afternoon, as per his summons, bearing the letter from the girl’s father, King Vijkant of Adgar, which backed up what she’d told his father. Still, it didn’t make her trustworthy. Or even qualified to protect the Royals.

  Besides, the letter had a very important detail missing, a detail that his father was stupidly and stubbornly refusing to question her about—how exactly she’d cheated in their Contest. Well, she’d insisted that she hadn’t done anything wrong, but what had she been accused of?

  “She told me she was innocent,” his father had said when they’d finished reading King Vijkant’s letter, the final item in the Council meeting this afternoon. “I saw no point, and still see no point, in asking her for details of the accusations against her.” His father rose from his seat, making to bring the meeting to a close.

  But Wyett stopped him with, “I don’t believe her. I think she did cheat—and I’d like to know how.”

  “You hardly know her, brother,” Seth had intervened.

  “And you do?” Wyett snapped. Seth only sighed. “Just because you showed her around the castle, doesn’t mean you know what she’s capable of.”

  “And you do?” Seth threw Wyett’s words back at him, but without any hostility. As was Seth’s way.

  “I know a liar when I see one,” he almost growled at Seth. His brother, cleverly, kept quiet thereafter. “And I say she’s lying through her teeth.”

  He had seen her lie with her mouth and with her body when she was trying to manipulate him into thinking she desired him, seen the lengths she’d go to in order to get her way.

  “She has to be watched, kept on a leash,” Wyett insisted.

  “Well, perhaps you should do just that,” his father had challenged.

  Wyett snapped, “Maybe I will,” but it wasn’t something he wanted to do. He didn’t want anything to do with her. His father could see that and exhaled deeply.

  “You’re wasting valuable resources in sending a ship to Adgar,” his father said, exasperated, “just to confirm what the Island’s King wrote in his letter. Maybe they’ll return with details of her charges, too. In the meantime, no one is to ask her about it.

  “She has lost her entire life, her Throne. She doesn’t need to be reminded of that, not when starting over in a new Kingdom, as a guard, is difficult enough.” Wyett had opened his mouth to argue, but his father added, “Surely, that’s a kindness you can afford the woman that saved your father’s life.”

  Wyett’s kindness would go so far, though. Letting her stand outside his door as he slept, night after night… No, that wouldn’t be an act of generosity, but a huge sacrifice on his part, one he wasn’t prepared to make.

  “Father has not been himself recently,” he said to the Head of the Royal Guards. “And he’s been making some rash decisions. It’s fine.” He shrugged. “Move the girl to a different part of the castle,” he ordered. “Anywhere. Just not in my chambers.”

  “I’m sorry, but I cannot. His Majesty is firm on this point. Besides, didn’t you say you wanted to keep an eye on her? Won’t this be a good way of doing that?”

  Wyett gritted his teeth. “I can’t even bare to look at her, let alone—”

  “If she were to make a mistake, Your Highness, you would be there to witness it. You could even make sure that she… slipped up…”

  Wyett’s eyes widened, lips parted. Then, he smiled. “Why, yes. I would, wouldn’t I?” And the Head would look the other way if Wyett was to ensure that the girl slipped up.

  Nodding in satisfaction, he left the Head’s office, smirking at the thought that the Adgari had no idea what she was getting herself into.

  “What’s wrong with your uniform?” The Crown Prince looked her up and down, eyes lingering on the shortened jacket, the tighter pants. The torch flames flickered, light and shadows dancing across his face.

  “I had the tailor make some adjustments for me,” Aaryana replied, staring straight ahead and not at the carefully composed face of the Prince standing beside her.

  They had just returned to his quarters from the Head’s office, and the two of them had walked side-by-side to his bedroom door. Then, he’d stopped before opening his door and took in her customised uniform.

  She still hadn’t decided how she was going to get close to him—without him calling her disgusting names. As though he’d read her thoughts, recalled his vulgar behaviour, his head lowered, his cheeks colouring from shame. The corridor darkened somewhat, as though the torches felt pity for her, too. Wordlessly, Wyett opened his door and walked inside.

  Before closing the door, he told her, “Don’t get used to this spot. You won’t be here long. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “I hope you have a good night, Your Highness,” she said politely. He was baiting her and she wouldn’t let him provoke her. “Sweet dreams.”

  He slammed the door shut.

  Jeena had Aaryana’s breakfast laid out in the lounge room, which was very clever of her. Aaryana could r
eturn from her shift in the morning, eat, and then go to sleep. The servant girl would clear the dishes from the other room without disturbing Aaryana.

  “Eat with me, Jeena.” Aaryana she sat on the floor by the low table between the two chaise sofas, folding her legs under her.

  She grabbed a slice of bread and spread butter on it, before gobbling up the entire slice in a few bites. Jeena didn’t join her, but the girl did linger, in case Aaryana needed anything before she went to bed. She did actually.

  “Jeena, could you please speak to whoever you need to speak to in order to get me an audience with the King? I want to thank him for his hospitality and my beautiful gift.”

  That gift was on the sofa in front of her, where she’d dropped it before rushing to get ready for guard duty.

  “Of course, my Lady.”

  As the servant reached the door, Aaryana called out, “If I’m asleep when you get back, don’t wake me.”

  During her shift, she’d decided that she’d make herself sleep during the days, for as long as she could, otherwise she’d tire herself out. It would be hard, though, because the daylight hours would be when all the interesting things happened, when she could train and ride and explore the Island, get to know its ways. Get close to Wyett…

  Perhaps she could use this first week to get as much sleep as possible, enough to last her the next several weeks when she’d try to execute her plans?

  Jeena nodded, before asking, “Even if His Majesty wants to see you immediately?”

  “I doubt that he will,” she replied.

  She didn’t think the King was even awake yet; he’d definitely have several meetings scheduled after breakfast. Seeing Aaryana, no more than a Royal Guard now, would be very low down on his priority list. So, Aaryana finished eating and went to bed.