“You’re hunting?” Wyneth asked. Her face paled and she placed her fingers at her lips when she realized she’d spoken.
“With great joy,” Lief told her in all seriousness. “I’ve come to slay the beast.”
Princess Aerity’s heart tightened while she watched her cousin swallow hard, an ill look passing over her face.
“Be safe,” Aerity whispered.
“Aye,” Wyneth said. “Blessings of the seas be with you.”
The lord nodded his head in thanks, but no fear showed on his face.
“Princess and lady,” the king’s adviser said, stepping forward. He gestured worriedly toward the darkening skies. “Night beckons. We must get you both inside.”
A reminder of the dangers hidden in the dark caused the girls to sidle closer.
Princess Aerity turned to the hoard of brave men at her back and raised a hand to wish them well. They returned her gesture, appearing as a solemn but determined bunch, and a lump of emotion lodged in her throat. Would one of these daring hunters kill the beast? Would one of these men wed her? Take her to his bed? She tried to shake away the thought, but now it was her reality. She had to face it.
She caught sight of Harrison through the myriad of faces. He stood naturally as if at attention, giving her a small smile and mock-salute that filled her with tenderness.
Her eyes then scanned the crowd until she found the other man she was looking for—the one who lacked respect, and yet . . . his attraction, at the very least, seemed to match her own. It wasn’t ideal. It definitely wasn’t anything to base a relationship on, but her body sought him out all the same.
Paxton Seabolt leaned lazily against the stone wall, lean, muscled arms crossed over his chest, his bow jutting out behind him. When their eyes met he didn’t look away or move, causing a strange fire to zing straight into her abdomen. He’d been watching her. She sucked in a ragged breath and turned away.
Aerity took Wyneth’s hand and headed down the path for the castle, wishing with all her might that the beast would be killed that night once and for all. Preferably by Harrison . . . or perhaps the brazen Paxton Seabolt. If it was wrong to have preferences, then seas forgive her. It wasn’t as if her choices would be taken into account anyhow.
She felt selfish for having such petty thoughts. Her only consideration should be for their safety.
She sent an amended wish along the salty breeze that the man she was fated for would kill the beast, and that no hunter’s blood would be shed in the process.
Chapter
12
Darkness engulfed the hunters soon after the princess left. Torches were lit along the insides of the commons’ walls.
Paxton knew his behavior had been inappropriate, but it was her own fault. He hadn’t wanted to meet her. He’d chosen to leave the table because he knew he couldn’t act as the others had—trying to win her approval like groveling chumps. And still, she’d sought him out, taking him by surprise and causing him to act on impulse.
He raised his eyes to the skies in frustration. It would take more than a blushing princess with hair of rose gold to make him forget the teachings of his grandmother, of the injustices instated by the princess’s ancestors, still blindly carried out by her own father.
Oh, how civilization forgets.
He wished he hadn’t given the princess the satisfaction of an eye caress. He’d surely inflated her ego even further. Not to mention he’d raised the notice of the guards, who seemed unappreciative of his behavior with the royal lass.
So be it.
The naval lieutenant sidled up next to him, wiping his long daggar to a sheen before sheathing it at his waist. “You’d do well not to insult the princess again.”
Paxton’s defenses went up. He didn’t deal well with royal arse-kissers. “Didn’t look to me as if she minded.”
Harrison faced him. “She’s a friend of mine. She’s trained not to react. You’ve no clue what she’s going through.”
Paxton snorted. “Aye, poor royal lass. Forgive me if I don’t feel pity on her account.”
Harrison’s face contorted in frustration as he looked away, and Paxton felt an unusual stab of guilt. This man had lost his cousin. He’d left his duties to hunt. He didn’t deserve Paxton’s disrespect.
He forced out the words, “My apologies, Lieutenant Gillfin.”
The man stuck out his hand. “Just Harrison.” They shook, and an easy silent agreement was made between them. Paxton would be careful to keep his opinions to himself from then on.
Night awaited. It was time to put everything else out of his thoughts.
All day the hunters had been at odds before finally deciding where they each would hunt.