Arranged: An Array Series (Book #1)(23)

A bruised and bloody George stood behind him.

∞∞∞

The night was alive with the whispers of crickets and the eerie call of an owl. I watched Ava sitting near our small fire, aglow in the orange light. She was wrapped in a blanket for extra warmth, the day’s emotions painted on her face.

She’d made George lie down for the night. He looked like shit; black eye, bruises everywhere, and a nice slice on his side. Once George killed Pierce, Ava had ordered my men around like they were hers. She made them fetch water, had another make a fire, and the rest take their prisoners away, tied “extremely tightly,” she had said. That had made me smile. None of them complained; they did as she asked.

Afterward, Ava asked one of the men to bring something for George to eat and a decanter of brandy. Kneeling on the hard ground in front of me, Ava began to tend to me. Her soft fingers had ripped at my shirt sleeve, so she could evaluate my bicep. I didn’t know if she could tend wounds, but I didn’t care. I just watched as she took the brandy and tore a piece off her dress to tie around my arm. She asked me questions, but I was focused on her, not her words. The way her auburn hair cascaded off her shoulders, her eyes narrowing and concentrating at dabbing her brandy-soaked dress on my wound.

Now, four of the Elite Eight were huddled around the fire with her, passing worried looks amongst each other. I noticed that she hadn’t eaten much at supper, but I wasn’t going to push it. I sat next to her on the stump of a fallen tree while she glanced at me. Looking back at the men, Ava nodded, and they departed from the fire.

“Are you the leader of my men now?” I asked with a raised brow.

Ava played with her fingers. “I wanted to speak with you.”

“Oh?” I replied, picking at a small branch. “Is it that bad?”

She shook her head. “No. Not at all.”

“How are you feeling?”

Her lips thinned in a straight line. “No need to worry about me. I’m fine.”

“My men seem to think otherwise,” I retorted softly as I glanced at her. The firelight shone softly on her face, showing off her small chin and high cheekbones.

“You mean, your little spies?” she retorted, the corner of her mouth coming up.

I raised an eyebrow. “Who said that?”

“Those men.” She nodded in the direction they had gone. “You’ve ordered them to look after my father and I for the last three years. I am overwhelmed with gratitude. I can never repay—”

“George told you,” I accused, in a harsher tone than intended.

She nodded again, not affected. “Yes.”

I looked at her. “Does he tell you everything?”

She let out a weak laugh. “Obviously not. I didn’t know he had so many attempts on his life until recently. I’m sure there is more I don’t know.”

She looked at me then, the fire reflecting in her eyes. “I am forever in your debt. I don’t know if I should be honored for eight men, or insulted that you thought I was so much to handle.”

“I’m starting to think I didn’t need any,” I put in. “I don’t know of any woman who would headbutt someone.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Why did you do it?”

“I didn’t want my good deed of bringing you back to good health to go to waste.”

“I didn’t ask you to stay that long,” she countered. True, she hadn’t; I’d wanted to. I had no reason to stay that long, I could have had one of my men report back to me.

I shrugged. “My father wasn’t going to do it. So, I decided to use mine.”

“So you trained eight men to protect me.”

I looked at her, wide-eyed. “How much did my big-mouthed brother tell you?”

Ava smirked and glanced at me. “Enough.” She stood up and brushed her dress off. “Good night, Garr. Sweet reveries.”

She walked away in the darkness, her hips swaying with the sweetness of her voice echoing in my head.





Ava





Chapter 9





I marveled at the spotless marble floors, stepping on them with my dirty shoes. Nothing looked different at the palace. It was as though I had stepped back in time. Tall ceilings were painted to look like a stained glass window and were supported by wooden beams. The walls were decorated with paintings of men and women with crowns, remembering kings and queens of the past.

I followed George as he bellowed out orders to have me shown to my room. His attitude had been dark and dismal since the attack. George wasn’t one for coddling, so I’d given him his distance, but I worried.

“George.” I paused, touching his forearm. “Are you okay?”

George grumbled. “I told you to stop asking me. I’m fine.”

“It’s just that you’ve been very distant, and I—”

“Just tired,” he cut in, then issued more orders to the servants.

“Don’t worry,” Garrett whispered in my ear. His breath tickled my skin, sending chills down my arms.

"Why, if you aren't still the most beautiful creature in the world." A deep voice echoed through the hall. A large man wearing a crown approached, dressed in deep red.

King Edward Brandon of Telliva.