Samuel nodded, shifting his weight. “Aye, Princess. Many thanks.”
Harrison gave Aerity a handsome wink as she stepped away and made it down the row to the last lad. He appeared to be one of the youngest in attendance, and she couldn’t help but smile when he beamed up at her with his white teeth and a boyish cleft in his chin. He bowed his head.
“Princess Aerity. This is such an honor. My name is Tiern Seabolt.”
“Seabolt. A strong Lochlan name.” She smiled when he placed a gentle kiss to her fingertips. “How old are you, Tiern Seabolt?”
“Seventeen, Your Highness.” Older than she’d thought. Such a baby face. “Same as you, I believe, Princess?”
“You believe correctly. Thank you for coming. I wish you well in tonight’s hunt.”
“It is my honor. Thank you, Princess.”
He bowed his head, and Aerity now allowed herself to turn and look toward the stone wall. The handsome lad was strapping a bow across his back. And a fine, broad back it was. He checked each arrow thoroughly from tip to end before slipping it in the quiver. Aerity looked at Wyneth with questions in her eyes. Should she approach him? Why hadn’t he stayed at the table to meet her?
Wyneth shrugged a shoulder in silent response.
His back was to them. He seemed focused and determined. Perhaps he didn’t wish to be distracted from the task at hand. Aerity knew she should probably let him be, but curiosity burned through her. Besides, he’d obviously known she was headed to meet him at the table before he left, and she wasn’t accustomed to being ignored.
She grabbed her skirts, lifted her chin in forced confidence, and moved toward the risers. Wyneth was a step behind, and the guards several more behind her. She wished the guards wouldn’t follow so closely.
The young man’s body stilled and stiffened, as if sensing their approach.
“Pardon me, sir?” Princess Aerity was surprised at the nervous tremble in her voice.
He didn’t turn right away. He continued to run his finger down the last of the arrow’s feathers before shoving it into the quiver and turning to face her. She was standing a decent distance from him, but still she stepped back, surprised by the fierceness in his eyes.
She didn’t know what she expected. Well, that’s not true. She expected a bow of his head or some other sort of respectful acknowledgment, but he gave none. The princess felt her mouth open and stay that way for far too long. The lad’s eyes flicked past Wyneth to the guards behind them, and then back to the princess.
“Forgive me . . .” she found herself saying. “I didn’t have a chance to meet you at the tables.”
High seas, her mouth had gone dry. No man had ever made her nervous like this. Why did he appear so angry? And why did every detail of his appearance appeal to her on such a base level? She felt sweat beading along her neck and spine as she made a concerted effort not to stare at the way he wore his dark tunic and breeches so well.
“I’m Princess Aerity . . .”
A small huff blew from his nose and his mouth quirked. “Yes, Princess, I’m aware of who you are.”
Lands and seas . . . his voice. Wait—was that sarcasm? Next to her she heard an intake of surprise from Wyneth. Aerity blinked, shaken.
A lad jogged up beside them,and patted the baffling, handsome hunter on the shoulder. Aerity recognized the young man Tiern smiling at her once again.
“You’ve met my older brother, Your Highness?” Tiern asked.
“Not officially,” Princess Aerity said. Now that the shock of their meeting began to wear off, she felt a pang of offense at the older lad’s demeanor.
“This is my brother, Paxton Seabolt.” He gave Paxton another hard pat, smiling with pride. “He’s nineteen.”
The princess held out her hand as she had to every other man, but a horrible realization dawned on her that he might refuse to take it. The very idea made her frown and stand taller.
To her utter relief he took her hand in his rough, warm one. Paxton then did something that none of the other tables full of men had dared to do. Still holding her hand, he dropped his gaze down to the swell of fabric at her chest, and kept it there too long, his hand tightening and seeming even hotter around hers. Another shocked sound left Wyneth, this one high-pitched. Aerity’s chest sizzled under the hunter’s heated attention, and she dropped his hand.
In unison, the guards behind her stepped closer, one of them clearing his throat. When Paxton Seabolt’s eyes drifted lower across her waist, Princess Aerity refused to cower. She was torn between offense and flattery at the intimate way he took her in with his eyes, perusing at his leisure until Tiern discreetly bumped him with his shoulder.
When Paxton looked at her face again, he stepped back. Aerity’s blood flooded her system in a hot rush as they held eyes.