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Elsanne
We’re in this together
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The rider, as much of him as she could see, wore large earrings made of ivory and kept his richly decorated full face spangenhelm secured on his saddle’s pommel. He’d long braided hair gathered in a tight bun, a deep black; same color as his penciled slanted eyes, sensual mouth crooking in a smirk, when he caught her watching from the carriage’s open window.
Elsanne snapped her eyes in front with a gasp. Loes seeing her reaction, made to admonish the Cofol rider, but the Princess of Kaltha stopped her, placing a small hand on her knee.
“Tame your tongue,” Loes almond eyes narrowed, not liking being reminded of her place. Probably hates me a little now, Elsanne thought, the sound of the carriage moving hypnotic almost, but not enough to lull her to sleep. She hadn’t, as a matter of fact, since the games. Barely remembered getting ready to follow her husband to be, on the long journey. Such was her shock from seeing Ralph fall and who the winner was to be, she mustn’t have voiced a full sentence for two days.
Her brother’s betrayal hurting the most.
Stay in the carriage my dear, King Antoon had said, seeming more troubled, than she’d ever remembered him. Her hatred burning so hard, she couldn’t pause to think through all that was said, after the Prince had won.
Won her.
She felt a shiver running down her back, the horror of her future all consuming.
> Whatever happens, stay inside.
>
> I had to do it for Kaltha and our family’s survival.
As if her survival wasn’t the one in question here.
Oh, she was going to get back at him for this.
Somehow…
But she couldn’t think of any way.
Tears welled up on the edges of her eyes, blurring her vision of Loes, so she wiped them with a scented silk handkerchief, feeling miserable.
“This isn’t the road to Scaldingport,” Her maid said.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Elsanne closed her eyes, initially not wanting to deal with her ignorance, but for the fact Loes was from Scaldingport and knew the road better than her.
So she opened them again, glared at the still smirking Cofol rider instead. The princess sorrow turned to fury. “We are going the wrong way,” She said to the exotic male, wondering whether he even spoke common. Elsanne pointed a manicured finger on her mouth and tried again very slowly, as if he was a baby. A large manly baby. “Do… you… understand… me?”
That smirk again.
“Has he no tongue?” She wondered aloud and tried to see who else was near, through the carriage’s window. The small door opened before Elsanne managed but a brief look and her husband to be climbed in, shushed a glaring Loes to the side and sat on the leather bench across from her. He looked, horribly maimed. His nose a bluish black, eyes bloodshot and despite wearing a new set of white leather armor, he was heavily bandaged around the chest.
An almost fatal wound, his men had said.
“Dear wife,” Prince Radin started, but seeing her sour expression turning for the worse at the endearment, he paused with a grimace and appeared hopefully in a lot of pain. “Gods have a strange sense of humor.”
Elsanne pouted her lips, funneling all her despair at her prospects into vitriol. She would make his life a living hell. There… that’s a good start for a plan.
“I pray they do my lord,” She batted her eyelashes. “In fact, wouldn’t it be scandalous, if I was widowed so soon? Say, if your awful wounds take a turn for the worse?”
“They won’t,” Radin replied a bit shaken at her words, but he quickly found his footing, which she begrudgingly admitted, was a bit impressive. “I have an excellent constitution. Fear not, dear Elsanne.”
“I’m not really warm on flattery, lord ahm… I’m sorry,” She shrugged her shoulders. “Your name is too difficult to remember.”
Prince Radin sat back, with a glance at the equally leering Loes. Gradually his lips formed that wicked grin, his men had copied heavily it seemed.
“That’s two lies. Actually, make that three; since I don’t believe you’re sorry,” He said in fluent common. “You asked my man a question earlier,” Radin continued, changing topic with as much skill. “They are not allowed to talk to royal wives.”
“Is my lord, jealous of his man?”
Radin frowned taken aback, then recovered with a chuckle.
“Praise Uher, you are something, my lady,” More than you will ever know, Elsanne thought. The Prince reached for her hand, but she removed it from sight adroitly, then the other, locking them behind her back. Not a comfortable position to be in, as it pushed her bosom out, not in an appropriate manner.
“Breathe,” Radin said. “I will not harm you.”
“I don’t believe you,” She replied, discarding the etiquette herself. Loes hissed, but Elsanne just ignored her completely.
The Prince sighed once and relaxed his legs, not an easy task in the narrow confines of their carriage. It was very distracting.
“I came to Riverdor to deliver a message. Not exactly willingly,” He said, a hand probing his swollen face lightly, as if to gauge the damage. “Got distracted with the tourney, which isn’t unheard of and almost died, winning you. Probably made mortal enemies for life as well. Can you even comprehend, how unlikely is the whole situation?”
“I’m not some idiot wench—”
He put a finger on her lips to stop her. Elsanne’s eyes grew twice their size, little golden dots in a sea of exquisite jade, sparkling with righteous anger and the Prince removed his hand, a look of wonder on his tanned face.
“We’re in this together Princess,” Radin said sounding hoarse, when he recovered. “We will embark in a journey. I apologize ahead of time, for the inconvenience and the ruse.”
“We’re not going to Scaldingport,” A flushed Elsanne noted.
“Or any port,” The Prince replied cryptically.