The Great Hunt (Eurona Duology, #1)(27)

“It’s Lord Lief Alvi!” One of the Ascomannian men yelled. Men from the coldlands erupted in cheers.

A lord? Was he joining the hunt or simply here to support his men?

As Lord Alvi made his way up the dock, Princess Aerity couldn’t help but stare. Like many of the Ascomannians she’d met that day, he wore less clothing than men from other kingdoms—ironic since the temperatures in their lands were much lower. They must have been numb to the elements. He wore a leather kilt to his knees, fur-lined leather boots, and a sleeveless tunic with a burnished breastplate over it.

His arms . . . seas almighty. His arms were all muscle, bulging without even flexing. Same with his calves. And his face was chiseled as in the coldlands tales of old.

Wyneth grasped the princess’s hand as they stared.

Several guards and one of the king’s primary advisers met Lord Lief Alvi at the edge of the docks. They conversed for a moment, shook hands, and then led the man straight toward the princess. She and Wyneth straightened.

The king’s adviser brandished a hand toward the girls and opened his mouth to make introductions, but before he could, Lord Alvi bent to one knee and lowered his head. Now that was how a gentleman greeted royalty—with civility and grace. This was the type of male Aerity was accustomed to meeting . . . minus the kilt and breathtaking Ascomannian beauty.

Given all of that, the princess was surprised she did not feel the same heat course through her that she’d felt for the rude commoner moments before.

Lord Alvi stood and his crystal blue eyes went straight to Wyneth. He reached for her hands and her eyes bulged.

“Princess Aerity,” he crooned in a low voice.

Whoops.

Aerity bit the inside of her lip to hide a giggle as her cousin’s cheeks reddened.

“No, kind sir. I am Lady Wyneth Wavecrest. This is my cousin Princess Aerity herself.” Her eyes were still huge as she turned to gesture toward the princess.

Was it Aerity’s imagination, or had he appeared momentarily crestfallen as his eyes changed course toward her? He stepped over and gave another bow, taking Aerity’s hand. When his gaze rose to her, full of brazen confidence and an easy smile, she thought she must have imagined his initial disappointment.

“Forgive me,” he said in a deep rumble of northern accent. “I was told the princess had hair like fire.”

Aerity smiled. Compared to Wyneth’s vibrant curls, her own hair was a sorry excuse for red. But his eyes were far too kind to take offense.

“Nothing to forgive, Lord Alvi,” the princess said, giving a small curtsy in return.

“Please, Princess. Call me Lief. I’m told it’s not too late to join the hunt.”

“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.