Shadows & Lace (Spellbound Prequel)

Chapter 3: The Stranger

While Baudwin slowly crossed the floor, obviously trying to minimise his limping, Braithe found herself staring, rather unladylike, at the stranger chatting with her parents. What was that man doing here in the royal castle? The king and queen were busy sharing a story with the younger man, and he was politely listening, a pleasant smile on his face. He was as well-dressed today as he had been last night in a midnight blue doublet over a white linen shirt. Definitely a nobleman or knight, but not one she had come across before. His clothes bore no heraldry, giving her no hints.

Their mother caught sight of Braithe hovering in the doorway and raised her voice. "Dear, don't just stand there! Come here and meet our guest."

Dutifully, Braithe followed her brother across the room. The stranger wouldn't recognise her, would he? When he'd met her last night, she'd been in disguise and it had been dark. But then no one she'd interacted with at night had ever met her as herself, the princess. This was the first time her disguise would be truly tested. Her mouth felt dry.

"Please meet my son, Prince Baudwin," their father started the introductions, and the two men shook hands. "And my daughter, Princess Braithe."

Offering her hand, she raised her gaze to properly look at the stranger. If possible, he was even more handsome in daylight. The sun streaming in from the windows glinted in the curls of his dark hair and made his eyes glitter. Blue, she thought absent-mindedly. They were blue.

He took her proffered hand and bowed over it, placing a soft kiss just above her knuckles. "It's a pleasure, Your Highness."

She all but snatched her hand back and had to restrain herself from rubbing it to remove the tingling sensation left by his lips.

"This is Sir Aurelian of Clare," the king introduced him. "He has been sent by the High King to commend us on how well we're doing with rebuilding the kingdom."

Rebuilding. Braithe almost scoffed. The excuse used for the exorbitant taxes. They claimed that they needed to rebuild the kingdom after the devastation caused by the Dark God's followers during the war. The truth was that Breoch had been lucky and had escaped relatively unscathed, especially compared to some of the other kingdoms. Any reparations had already been completed or were held off to give the impression that they still needed the high taxes. Most of the money collected went to fill the king's coffers.

"You really should stop scowling," Baudwin whispered in her ear when no one was looking, and she quickly schooled her features into a neutral expression.

"I appreciate your warm welcome," Aurelian was saying, smiling at the king and queen. A dimple graced his left cheek, she hadn't noticed that before. It was utterly charming, but she didn't want it to be. She didn't want him to be.

"We must throw a ball," their mom exclaimed excitedly, always happy for an excuse to put on a lavish show. "We can put it together within a week, I'm sure. Surely you will stay that long, at least?"

If there had been a flutter of uncertainty on Aurelian's face, it disappeared within the blink of an eye. "Certainly. I would be much honoured to attend a royal ball."

"It's decided then," the queen trilled, clapping her hands together. "I must speak to our servants at once to begin arrangements. No time to spare with such a tight schedule!"

She disappeared out the door in a flurry, leaving Braithe alone with the three men. Baudwin was eyeing their visitor with a shrewd look.

"I beg your pardon," he said. "I didn't catch what your role is at the High King's court?"

Aurelian smiled pleasantly, but Braithe couldn't help but feel as if the two men were sizing each other up. "I am a knight of the King's Guard."

"Isn't that a glorified bodyguard?" The question slipped out before she could stop herself.

"Braithe!" The king gasped, horrified at her rudeness, but she could see Baudwin hiding a snicker. "Sir Aurelian! I do beg your forgiveness for my daughter. She may be beautiful, but she struggles to hold her peace."

"No offence taken, Your Majesty" Aurelian said, and as he looked at her with renewed interest, Braithe regretted her words. The last thing she wanted was for him to pay her any extra attention. "Yes, Your Highness, the King's Guard are in a sense bodyguards, in that we protect the High King and his family with our lives. However, we also do many other things for the High King."

"Such as delivering messages?" By the Gods! Why could she not keep her mouth shut?

Aurelian's mouth twitched. "Yes, such as delivering messages."

"I think that is quite enough!" The king snapped. "Braithe, I suggest you go..." He made a non-committing wave with his hand. "Embroider something, or whatever you do with your time."

"Yes, Father," she said demurely, curtsying, and with a final look at the amused faces of Baudwin and Aurelian left the room while silently cursing herself.

What had she been thinking? She normally had a lot more self-control than that. Now she wouldn't find out more about their visitor. Continuing to curse herself, she walked down the winding stairs of the castle into the undercroft below. Lyssa waited beneath the vaulted ceiling, her blonde hair glowing golden in the flickering light from torches on the walls. The undercroft was rarely used these days, making it the perfect training area for Princesses who were meant to be doing embroidery, not stabbing things with daggers.

"Your Highness," Lyssa said with a curtsy as Braithe entered the room where they kept her gear. "I was beginning to think you may not show up."

"I was held up," Braithe muttered, turning her back to the lady-in-waiting so that she could help undo the myriad of buttons along her back. Dresses were so inconvenient. Before donning her nightly persona, Braithe hadn't known the freedom of men's clothing. Now that she did, she envied them any time she had to wear her dresses. The black leather trousers and dark tunic she wore out at night were so comfortable, she wished she could always wear them. She knew some women wore trousers, but for a princess to do so was unheard of. Her mother would have an apoplexy if she so much as breathed the idea.

A short while later, the dress and smock were hanging over a wooden beam, and Braithe was weighing her two daggers in her hands while eyeing one of the training dummies Baudwin had helped her pilfer from the soldiers' training grounds. For her own entertainment, she had painted faces on them. This particular one had black hair and a beard, just like the Sheriff of Ossol, who was a truly repugnant man.

Lyssa was wringing her hands, as she did every time. "Oh, Princess," she whimpered. "I do worry that someone will come down here and find you. In this... state of undress."

"You say this every time," Braithe reminded her. "And I can't move in my dress. It's not like I'm naked. I'm wearing my camisole and hoses."

"It is very improper, and you know it!" Lyssa hissed, which only made her laugh.

"It's why you're here. You keep a lookout while I train." She threw the daggers, one after another, and they each hit the red-painted heart of the Sheriff dummy with a satisfying thump.

As she walked up to retrieve the weapons, Lyssa's eyes widened. "Someone is coming!"

Braithe slipped behind the dummies. She could hear the shuffling of feet on the stone floors too. And was that... The sound of a wooden cane tapping the ground? She smiled, relaxing. "It's only Baudwin."

A moment later her brother's face appeared in the arched doorway, and Lyssa bobbed a curtsy, her cheeks stained red. "Your Highness," she breathed quietly.

Baudwin nodded towards the pretty, young woman then walked over to Braithe. "I'm here," he muttered. "Let's do this."

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