The Great Hunt (Eurona Duology, #1)(26)

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.

“I,” she began, “thank you for coming. Blessings to you both as you hunt.”

The princess nearly tripped over her own feet as she stooped to grasp her skirts and turn, bustling through the line of guards. She heard Tiern hiss, “What’s wrong with you?” but she didn’t dare turn to catch Paxton’s response.

She halted and turned when a young guard caught up and called, “Shall I have him removed for his insolence, Princess?”

“What? No, of course not.” Her skin was still flushed from the feel of Paxton Seabolt’s eyes. “He’s a hunter. We knew some of them would be . . . rough by nature.”

The guard frowned. “Your Highness, he was blatantly disrespectful—”

“Enough. Gentleman or not, he’s putting his life on the line. Let him be. I don’t plan to get close enough to allow another moment of indecency again.”

The guard pursed his lips, and Princess Aerity turned to walk once more, catching a look on Wyneth’s face she couldn’t decipher. Perhaps a mix of astonishment and humor. They walked faster, putting some space between themselves and the guards.

Wyneth whispered under her breath, “I’m willing to bet you wouldn’t be so quick to take up for him if it’d been one of the other men who ate you up with his starving eyes.”

“Let’s not make something of nothing.”

“Truly, Aer. I thought at first you were going to smack him, and then just as quickly it looked as if you might kiss the lad!”

“Hush, you.” Princess Aerity smashed her lips together so as not to smile in her embarrassment.

As they neared the venue gates, voices rose behind them. Aerity turned to see men pointing out at the bay. The late day sky matched the water.

“Oh, my skies above,” Wyneth breathed.

An extraordinary Ascomannian ship was making its way to the docks. Princess Aerity had only seen such a sight in books. Its wooden hull was raised high and curved at the end like the grandest of vessels. Several light-haired men jumped from the ship to tie it, but one man with a silver breastplate stood tall, surveying the land before him. His shoulder-length blond hair caught the breeze and he raised his sights to the hunters now standing at the entrance to the commons. His blond beard was cropped short, neat in comparison to the other rugged Ascomannians.