Princess Avenger - Brightcastle Saga Book 1 Read Online Free Page B

left the dining hall.
There was something familiar about her that eluded him. The nagging
feeling that he had met her before wouldn’t go away, but that was
absurd. He’d only been in Brightcastle for a week and had certainly
had no opportunity to see the princess, let alone meet her.
    He
grunted at the track his thoughts had taken. His job was to protect
Alecia Zialni. While he kept her safe, he could gather information
for the mission that had really brought him to Brightcastle: the
assassination of the prince. The truth of his task made him pause.
Yes, it met his Defender goals -- to protect the innocent from harm by whatever means
necessary -- but who was the faceless man who had hired him? Was it
perhaps Zialni’s nephew Piotr? It made sense that Piotr, next in
line to the throne, might want Zialni dead, but would the death of
the prince bring even greater danger to Princess Alecia? How could
Vard accomplish his task and extract himself while ensuring the
princess was safe?
    Vard
rubbed the short hairs across the back of his neck. The zigzag of
his thoughts unnerved him. Disaster would surely find him if he
couldn’t keep his thoughts where they needed to be. Rigid
discipline had served him well in the past -- allowing emotions to dominate his
actions could only lead to ruin. He’d fought too hard to lose
himself now.
    He pulled his
saddlebags from under the cot and packed his clothes for the move
into the castle. Vard called his lieutenant in to inform him he’d
be taking over leadership of the Zialni Royal Guard, then stepped
into the night. As he re-entered the palace grounds, he glanced up
to the windows on the second floor of the west wing where the royal
family had their suites. Only one room showed a dim light.
    Vard entered
via the servants’ access, left his saddlebags and boots in the
utility hall and slipped through the darkened passageways to the
main staircase. Phasing partially to exploit the heightened senses
of the wolf, his nose led him to the prince’s quarters at the end
of the west wing on the second floor. The heavy wooden door swung
on silent hinges and he pulled it closed behind him, pausing to get
his bearings in the near dark. No noise came from the parlor or the
bedchamber beyond. Vard memorized the position of each piece of
furniture, searching for weapons in both rooms. A short bow hung
from a hook beside the armchair in the parlor and he discovered a
sword resting against the wall behind the bed.
    Footsteps
echoed from the hall followed by the squeak of a hinge. He ghosted
to the bedroom window, opened it and slid through. Fingers gripping
the windowsill, he scrambled for toe holds on the slippery quartz
walls of the palace. Finally, his feet found two precarious cracks.
He gripped the amber talisman with his right hand and began to form
the image of the hawk in his mind.
     
    Alecia pulled her head
back into her bedroom from the hall. “Sweet dreams!” She kicked her
skirts as she stalked to the fireplace. “As if anyone can sleep
with him downstairs.”
    Millie,
her chambermaid had been bubbling with excitement at the news that
the enigmatic Captain Vard Anton had moved into one of the
servant’s rooms on the ground floor of the east wing. Alecia shook
her head. Why does he have to be here in the castle? Aren’t the royal
guard barracks close enough? Obviously not in the mind of her father. She gazed into the
fire, her thoughts troubled and hands pressed to her stomach to
quiet the fluttering. What was this reaction every time she thought
of him? Fear? Unbidden, his face danced in her mind, uncompromising
and confident. He had saved her life and hidden the true facts
about the attack. Why had he not revealed that it had been the
mercenary who had been the victim, not the lad? It did not make
sense.
    She poured
herself a goblet of deep red burgundy and took a gulp. The heavy
wine burned all the way to her stomach. Raw her nerves might be
after the surprises at dinner but at least