The Great Hunt (Eurona Duology, #1)(33)

Donubhan and Vixie walked ahead of them, following two guards. Aerity sidled close to her cousin and they synchronized their steps.

“What were you and Lord Alvi chatting about?” Aerity whispered.

Wyneth kept her eyes on the stone walkway. “Nothing of importance. He was asking if I could do the trick as well. I had to explain that I’m not inclined toward physical talents.”

True. Wyneth’s primary talents were the arts, something Aerity wished she could do.

“And what about Harrison? He seemed off.”

Wyneth’s eyebrows scrunched. “Aye. He didn’t say much, but I had the distinct feeling he doesn’t care much for Lord Alvi.”

“I wonder why?”

“Protective of me, maybe. Bit of a flirt, that coldman.”

“Indeed. Lord Alvi seems . . . keen,” Aerity murmured. She wondered if the man knew Wyneth had just lost her beloved to the very beast he was hunting.

“He’s agreeable for an Ascomannian,” Wyneth said diplomatically.

Under other circumstances Aerity would have probed for more, even joked about the man’s “agreeable” muscled arms, but it was simply too soon to speak of other men to Wyneth, even in jest. And given that Lief was in the running for Aerity’s hand in marriage it seemed uncouth.

Aerity wondered if the days of comfortable, easy conversation would ever return.

“Do you think Uncle Charles is angry?” Wyneth asked.

“Who cares?” Vixie scoffed.

“I’m sure he wasn’t happy seeing Vixie and Donny out there,” Aerity answered. “Probably thinks they’re being a nuisance and bothering the men. Doesn’t want anyone making jesters of the kingdom.”

“I’m not a nuisance!” Vixie’s scoffing continued.

Aerity recalled the conversation they’d just had with the hunters, and her sister’s unfiltered questions. “You have to be careful what you say to these men, Vixie. It’s all very . . . touchy. And personal.” To her, as well.

Vixie rolled her eyes. “You know I’m not one to hold my tongue.”

“Aye, I know.” Aerity sighed.

“Well, all three of you were well received, I thought,” Wyneth said. “The men needed a break.”

“Agreed.” Aerity linked her arm with her cousin, then her sister. “You’ll join us so you can tell him that yourself?”

Wyneth sighed. “Oh, fine. I’m not afraid of Uncle Charles. Your mother, on the other hand . . .”

The girls giggled quietly as they entered the castle.











Chapter


14


“Must you always have something snide to say in the princess’s company?” Tiern asked as he followed his brother to the sharpening post.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Paxton removed his quiver and began taking out his arrows, examining the head of each.

Tiern stopped in front of him. “You needn’t be so gruff with her. It’s embarrassing.”

“Deep seas, Tiern,” Paxton muttered. “Men don’t embarrass.”

“You don’t embarrass, Pax. Sometimes I wonder if you feel anything at all.” Tiern dropped his quiver with a clatter and sat, draping his arms across his bent knees.

Paxton ran his thumb over the tip of an arrow. Just a fraction more pressure and it would cut through the tough pad of skin. Tiern knew nothing of what he felt, and he planned to keep it that way.

“All I’m saying is that it wouldn’t kill you to show a bit of kindness to Princess Aerity. She’s been nothing but pleasant to us.”

“It’s all an act.” Paxton slid the sharpened arrow back into the quiver.

“Must you always be so cynical? Can you not acknowledge genuine kindness and beauty when it’s right in front of you?”

Paxton grunted. He didn’t want to think about her. Aerity.

How she’d controlled her body so fluidly as she’d flipped and landed with complete grace, her hair fanning out like a sunset.

Or that she’d focused on the target and owned it—an action that spoke to Paxton in a language he could understand.

He’d never in all his days seen a lass do something like that. It made him wish he could dive into the deep, dark ocean afar to cool himself. He longed to rid his mind of these unwelcome thoughts.

Again, Paxton grunted.

The royal children clearly had too much time on their hands. And despite what his brother thought, he believed every person needed to be put in their place from time to time. Especially the rich ones.

“Here.” Paxton tossed the sharpening block to Tiern. “Hurry up and tend to your arrows so we can rest before dinner. Focus on the hunt, not the lasses.”

Perhaps he should take that advice himself.

From his spot on the ground, Tiern’s eyes widened. Paxton turned to see what he was gaping at. Lord Lief Alvi had approached them with a rolled map in hand. Paxton admired the man’s vest of fine rabbit fur.

“You’re locals, correct?” Lief asked.

“Aye.” Paxton stood and his brother followed. “From Cape Creek, a village fifteen miles northeast of here.”

Lief nodded, unrolling his map. “My men are adamant about hunting on our own for now, and since the total numbers of hunters are great enough I have agreed.” The lord sounded reluctant, but Paxton knew that part of what made a great leader was compromise. So they would keep to their original groups. Lief needn’t state the obvious—that his men wanted the glory of the kill and the prize of the foreign princess to themselves—things Lief could surely appreciate, even if the methods of his men weren’t the smartest.