Damien formed a bubble around the small mountain of cracked timbers, shattered shingles, and other random debris the workers had piled up in the street and flew away with it. Beyond the outer wall a massive fire burned around the clock, consuming the rubble from the capital. Smoke filled the sky, more smoke than when the fires still burned in the city. Not that there was any help for it. They had no other way to dispose of so much rubble.
Over the past month and a half Damien had added a great deal of fuel to this particular pyre, most of it wood, but some the bodies of victims discovered as they demolished damaged buildings. Many of the bodies were mangled so badly no one could identify them. A lot of people who lost friends and family would never know for certain what happened to their loved ones. Damien had gotten lucky. No one he loved had been injured in the quake.
It wasn’t just tearing down now at least. The sound of hammers and saws filled every corner of the city as carpenters from all over the kingdom worked to put the capital back together. Skeletal rafters of new roofs were popping up everywhere along with bare walls and stone foundations. If the pace continued maybe everyone would have a roof over their heads before winter.
Damien landed in the castle courtyard and wiped sweat from his brow. It was only midmorning, but the summer heat already covered the city like a damp blanket. He walked around to the back side of the keep. The castle well drew its water from a deep spring that stayed cold even on the hottest days. A long drink followed by a bucket dumped over his head sounded like just the thing.
He stepped into the shade of the keep and sighed. It had to be twenty degrees cooler here. Maybe he’d just rest a moment before getting his drink. He closed his eyes, leaned his hot back against the cool stone, and let the chill soak into his body. Sometimes the small things really were the best.
He sensed a familiar soul force approaching a moment before soft lips pressed against his. The kiss ended and he opened his eyes to find Imogen smiling at him. She wasn’t wearing her crimson uniform, instead she had on a simple white dress and sandals, her long, golden hair loose and waving in the light breeze. She looked absolutely stunning.
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“I thought we talked about this. I’m engaged to Karrie. We can’t be sneaking around behind her back.”
Her smile widened. “You’d rather do this where she can see us? I’m game, but I’m not sure how she’d take it.”
Damien pushed off the wall and headed for the well. “You know what I mean.”
She latched onto his arm and walked along with him. Since they’d gotten back from the failed attempt to capture Connor Blackman, Imogen had started acting like a love-struck girl. It was such a change from what he’d gotten used to. Before, it had been easy to forget she was only a year older than Lane and four years older than him.
“I know you don’t love that girl. That you’re only marrying her out of pity. Why should you have to give up your happiness for her?”
Damien pulled the well bucket up to give himself a chance to think. He’d tried explaining everything to Imogen once already. The night after their return from the mission he’d gone to his room after a long conversation with his master only to find a naked Imogen lounging in his bed waiting for him. She had been intent on finishing what she started back in the cave. It had taken all Damien’s considerable willpower not to take her up on the offer.
Instead they spent the evening talking. They shared their histories and Damien explained his promise to Karrie and how he felt about Lizzy. He’d thought Imogen understood and she’d left with nothing more than a passing kiss.
He’d been mistaken. It appeared Imogen had made it her new mission to convince him to forget his promise, abandon the princess, and fall into bed with her. It seemed whenever he was alone she’d appear and start kissing him. She left him constantly on edge. If Karrie ever discovered them, even though it hadn’t been his idea, she’d never forgive him. And while Imogen was right that Damien didn’t love the princess, he also had no desire to hurt her.
The bucket reached the top of the well. Imogen grabbed the dipper out of the bucket ahead of him and took a sip before letting the rest run down her chin and neck to soak the front of her thin dress. The wet material clung to her flawless curves. Damien forced himself to look away.
“I thought you were thirsty.” She pressed herself against his back and kissed the nape of his neck with her cool, wet lips. A shiver ran through him. He needed to get away from her before his wavering resolve shattered.
He sensed the energy of one of his master’s message constructs approaching. The golden orb flew around the wall and formed the words “Throne room.” Damien sent his master a silent thank you.
He stepped away from Imogen. “Duty calls.”
She licked her lips and smiled. “Another time.”