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The Carnelian Tyranny: Savino’s Revenge Page 8


  “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said, shaking her head.

  “I’m coming too,” Mark announced.

  “No, you’re not!” Marisa shot back. “I don’t want you and Uncle Al out there risking your lives on my account.”

  “Your Highness, it would be safer for you to have them out there with you,” Darian said. Then he turned to Mark. “Prepare your things to move out to Beauriél as soon as possible.”

  “Darian!”

  Glaring at him angrily, she got up from the table and ran out of the hall, storming down the corridor. Surprised by her sudden outburst, Darian stood up and hurried after her. He quickly caught up with her, grabbing her arm and wheeling her around to face him.

  “Why are you so angry? We are only trying to protect you!”

  “That’s not it!” She shouted, pointing at him accusingly. “You never let me make any of my own decisions!”

  “Is that what this is about?” He crossed his arms defensively. “Because you know as well as I that it would be better to have Alessio and Marcus out there protecting you.”

  “As Princess Regent, don’t you think I should be the one to decide that? The way you order me around in front of everyone makes me look stupid and helpless! Are you still going to treat me like a child even after we’re married?”

  Turning on her heel, she stalked off down the corridor.

  He followed after, forcing her to face him. “Marisa, this is not a game! Savino will kill you if he gets the chance. I am perfectly willing to let you make the key decisions except when it comes to gambling with your life!”

  “That’s not fair!”

  “No!” he shouted, stabbing at her with his finger. “You are the one who is not being fair! What if it were me going to Beauriél instead of you? Would you not want for me to have some extra protection out there?”

  She avoided his eyes, knowing he was right. He always erred on the side of caution where her safety was concerned. He was being overprotective of her, but that carefulness had saved her life several times.

  His voice softened as he took her hands in his. “I have never loved anyone the way I love you. If something happened to you, my life would be over, pure and simple. Perhaps you think that I am being too cautious, but I know what my cousin is capable of. Please just trust me.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, but you need to trust me more.”

  He moved in close, taking her face in his hands. “This is not a matter of trust; of course I trust you. This is about keeping you safe. I simply refuse to allow that man to come between us.”

  “Isn’t he doing that already?” she sighed, pulling away from him. “It’s been a long day and I’m exhausted.”

  “Come,” he said, placing her hand on the crook of his arm. “Allow me to escort you back to your room.” They walked back toward her chambers, both of them sobered by the fact that it would be her last night in the castle for the foreseeable future.

  CHAPTER 9

  DISPLACED

  The next morning after breakfast, all of the boxes and trunks that had been filled with clothes and supplies were loaded onto a large wagon and the royal carriage was prepared. The journey to Beauriél wasn’t far, but there was no telling for how long the Princess Regent would be forced to stay out there.

  Darian held the carriage door open, offering her his hand. Marisa saw that Mark and Alessio were already inside, waiting for patiently for them to get in. The rest of the family was all lined up to see them off.

  Taking Darian’s hand, she paused to stare up at the towering citadel, spotting the balcony and windows of her chambers high above them. The uncertainty surrounding the departure had made it a bittersweet event and she wondered how long she would be forced to live away from her loved ones.

  She climbed into the carriage and sat down with her travel bag on her lap. Darian got in and sat down opposite from her. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eye knowing that, in just a few hours, they would once again be separated. From the look on his face, he wasn’t looking forward to it any more than she was.

  As the wheels of the carriage crunched across the snowy slush covering the cobblestones, the four occupants waved to the others who had come to see them off. They passed under the rampart wall at the main gate and made their way down through the city. Once they were out in the open countryside, each of them seemed to breathe a little easier, but the mood remained somber.

  Less than half an hour later, the carriage turned off the main road onto the driveway of Castle Beauriél. Marisa peered out the window and noticed that all the weeds had been pulled and a new lock had been installed on the gate. The trees seemed almost dead without their summer leaves, but there were still plenty of evergreens hiding the house from view from the main road.

  As they neared the end of the driveway, she admired the stately mansion where she had been born and had spent her early childhood. Distant memories of her family arriving at and leaving from Beauriél trickled through her mind. She studied the ornate wooden door with the Fiore coat-of-arms above it. The homecoming was bittersweet for her as she stood in front of the only tangible link to a glorious past she barely even remembered.

  Darian unlocked the front door while the footmen and servants offloaded the suitcases and boxes. True to his word, he’d posted extra guards all around the perimeter.

  Watching the armed men stocking arrows for their crossbows and assessing the miscellaneous weapons at their disposal, Marisa felt as if she had simply traded one prison for another. The one upside was that at least Beauriél felt like a real home as opposed to the immense castle where she had been living for the past three months.

  She climbed the stairs of the grand marble staircase, peering into each of the sleeping chambers on her way down the corridor. When she reached the large bedroom at the very end, she tossed her satchel onto the bed with a heavy sigh. One of the servants had started a fire in the hearth, so the room was already warming up nicely.

  She opened a window overlooking the front of the house and stuck her head out, watching the footmen unload the trunks from the wagon. The breeze felt cold against her face, but the fresh air provided her with a few ounces of peace as she took in a deep breath.

  Hearing footsteps on the marble steps, she listened as they reached the top and continued down the hallway, the antique floorboards creaking under the weight.

  Sensing someone approaching from behind, powerful arms slipped around her waist as Darian joined her melancholy stare out at the bare trees and shrubs staggered across the castle grounds in symmetrical patterns.

  “It will not be for long,” he whispered in her ear. “I shall come visit you every day.”

  “It won’t be the same. And I get easily bored.”

  He chuckled. “You have a whole library full of books to keep you occupied.”

  “They’re all in Crocine.”

  “Well, then, you can plan your Christmas party. We are all eagerly anticipating the event.”

  She smiled weakly, remembering how enthusiastic she’d been about the party just days before. Somehow it just didn’t seem so exciting anymore.

  “Oh, that reminds me,” he said, releasing her to move over to the clothing chamber. He motioned to her. “Come here, please. I would like to show you something.”

  After she had walked over to where he was kneeling in the dressing room, he shoved the woven rug aside to reveal a small trap door hidden in the floorboards. Lifting it, he pointed to a ladder descending into a dark shaft.

  “As you can see, this is not the first time this castle has served as a hideout. When your great-grandfather lived here, he had this secret passageway installed if ever they needed a quick escape.”

  “Where does it go?”

  “It descends into a narrow tunnel running underneath the house. The exit is located at the rear of the grounds, underneath a small wooden pavilion. It cannot be seen from the house, but it was built that way on purpose. Shall we try it out?”
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  “I don’t think this is such a great idea,” she said, peering down into the darkness. “Who knows what nasty creatures are down there waiting for us.”

  “Have you no spirit of adventure, princess?” he teased. “Marisa, please. I am right here and I shall even go first.” He grinned at her, shoving his broad frame through the narrow opening and climbing down until she couldn’t see him anymore.

  “Where are you?” she called down to him.

  “Come and see,” his voice echoed from someplace deep.

  Sighing in exasperation, she grabbed the sides of the opening and lowered her foot onto the top rung of the ladder. Slowly she climbed down one foot at a time, discovering that the shaft was only a couple of feet wide in diameter. Noticing that the hatch had a handle on its underside, she pulled it shut.

  Total darkness.

  Wondering how Darian had ever gotten his broad body down such a narrow shaft about the same width as a chimney, she felt her way down the rungs of the ladder. She glanced up, but, with the hatch closed high above her, there was no way to tell how far she had descended. Groping in the dark, she felt the shaft opening below her into a tunnel, but, with no source of light, it was impossible to see a thing. Finally she touched the ground.

  “It’s pitch black down here! How are you supposed to find your way out without any light?”

  Silence.

  “Darian?” She felt her way in the dark, her hands meeting the cold smoothness of the stone walls.

  Another silence.

  “Come on; quit fooling around. Where are you?”

  “Here,” he whispered behind her, causing her to jump.

  “Oh! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Her hands stretched into the darkness until they finally touched his breastplate, giving him a firm shove. “That wasn’t funny,” she fumed, giggling in spite of herself as she heard his soft chuckle.

  “Yes, it was.”

  “So what are we supposed to do now?”

  “Just feel your way out. Pretend we are back in the Styrian Ice Caves,” he said.

  “I’d rather not. That wasn’t a fun experience for me.”

  “Come—let us see how long it takes us to get out to the pavilion.” The sound of his footsteps grew fainter.

  “Wait! I can’t see where I’m going!”

  She stumbled into the blackness, feeling her way along the stone walls and trying not to think of all the tiny creatures creeping around in the dark tunnel. The narrow passage was only wide enough for one person at a time. As long as she kept moving in the same direction, she couldn’t get lost. She moved along blindly for a few minutes, not knowing how far ahead of her he was.

  “Lucky for you I’m not claustrophobic!” she shouted just before plowing into him.

  “My apologies—I should have told you that I had stopped.”

  “Why did you let go of me back there? It would have been a lot easier if you had helped me through the tunnel.”

  “But that is the entire point. You had to make it out alone.”

  “Then why did you stop?”

  “Because we are already there.”

  “Where?”

  “At the exit.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for?”

  “I wanted to try something first.”

  Without warning, he turned around, pulling her against him in a passionate embrace. In the darkness, his fingers caressed the curve of her face tenderly, feeling for the softness of her lips.

  Finding them, he leaned down and pressed his firmly against hers, quickly deepening the kiss.

  The depth of love she felt for him in that moment took her breath away. Her fingers stroked the coarseness of his hair and moved down to feel the strong tautness of the muscles in his neck. She had never felt safer than when she was in his arms. And, although she couldn’t see his expression, when she heard the whisper of his sigh between their kisses, she sensed that their invisible bond of love had overwhelmed him too. Before she was ready to let him go, he suddenly pulled away.

  “Well, we have proved at least one fact to be true,” he spoke in a whisper while trying to catch his breath.

  “What fact?”

  “That when you cannot see, all your other senses become extremely heightened.”

  She giggled. “Where did you acquire your charm, Mr. Fiore?”

  “Years of experience, milady,” he said softly, pulling her close to kiss her again. His lips lingered on hers, his hand cupping her cheek.

  “Not too much experience, I hope.”

  “What happened in the past shall remain there.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. It does not mean anything,” he said, kissing her softly on the cheek. “Now, listen to me. Directly in front of me is an iron ladder bolted to the wall. There are eighteen steps leading upward until you reach the trap door under the pavilion. You go first because I want you to try to open it by yourself.”

  Fumbling around in the dark, they switched places until she was standing in front of him. She reached out in front of her and grabbed the ladder, starting her upward ascent. She counted each of her steps in her head to tell her when she was approaching the top.

  “Do you feel anything yet?”

  She groaned. “No. And now I don’t know which step I’m on because you made me lose my count.”

  “Well, you should be near the top now. Just make sure you keep one hand raised above you to avoid hitting your—”

  Her head bumped against something hard. “Too late,” she said. She pushed the trap door upward, but it felt heavy, as if it had met some sort of resistance. She screamed as a large rodent jumped over the top and scurried away.

  “What! What is it?” he shouted from below.

  “That’s the last time you ever make me go first, Darian Fiore!” Her heart was thumping inside her throat. “Some humongous rodent decided to build a nest on top of the trap door!”

  His laughter softened her anger as she climbed out and bent over to avoid hitting her head on the underside of the pavilion. She waited patiently until he emerged from the hole and stood next to her.

  “I believe the exit is opposite from the stairs,” Darian said.

  Sure enough, the wood panel slipped aside, and they crawled out from under the pavilion. The magnificent, open-air structure had an octagonal form and was covered with a cone-shaped metal roof. About ten feet wide, it had a raised platform and four opposing benches that would allow a person to sit and read, or just enjoy the peaceful views out into the trees. Hidden somewhere deep in the forest, the pavilion was located far enough from Beauriél that it could not be seen through the dense thickness of the evergreens.

  As Marisa and Darian turned to each other, both of them burst into fits of laughter. Their faces were covered with streaks of black soot from where they had touched the walls and then each other.

  “You look adorable in charcoal!” He wiped her cheek with a handkerchief, grinning at her. “We should do this more often.”

  He took her hand in his and they started back toward the house, strolling through the beautifully landscaped gardens with its trees and shrubs laid bare by winter. As they walked around the side and approached the front of the house, the footmen were still unloading boxes and supplies in the driveway.

  Marisa entered through the front door and headed down the corridor toward the kitchen with Darian following behind. A small army of kitchen staff were seated around the large wooden table, planning the meals for the week. When she appeared in the doorway, everyone quickly leapt to their feet.

  “Would you like something to eat, Your Highness?” the head cook asked.

  “Yes, please. I’m a little hungry.”

  She left the kitchen and sat down at the dining room table while the kitchen staff scurried about the kitchen, putting a meal together. The young man’s hands were shaky as he set the soup, bread, meat, cheese and fruit down in front of her. After he had nearly spilled her goblet of water, h
e mopped it up hastily before hurrying back into the safety of the kitchen. Darian smiled in amusement.

  “Pray, what do you do to make them so fearful of you?”

  “It’s not fear. The young man is simply overwhelmed by my beauty,” she said, giggling as she took a bite of bread.

  “I cannot disagree with you there. Well, what do you think of your first meal in your very own house?”

  “You mean my second meal.”

  “Ah, yes—I suppose that you are referring to the picnic we enjoyed here a few months ago. But now you are eating in your own dining room.”

  “Our dining room,” she corrected. “Aren’t you staying for lunch?”

  Taking a quick sip of water from her goblet, he rose from his chair. “Unfortunately, I must return to the castle. I have an urgent meeting with Tino later this afternoon.”

  She stared up at him. “You’re leaving already?”

  “When I return tomorrow, we shall take a nice, long stroll to see the grounds. How does that sound?”

  “Nice.” She rose to her feet, embracing him. “Maybe then I can finally take you to meet Eman?”

  “Each time you come out to Beauriél, you visit with that shepherd.” He smiled mischievously at her. “Should I be jealous?”

  She laughed. “Hardly. He’s a wonderful, sweet man and, while there’s something quietly attractive about him, it would never work out between us. He’s fifteen years older.”

  “That is not very reassuring. I have known many a happy couple with an age gap of more than twenty years.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. Where marriage is concerned, compatibility of temperaments is much more important than age.”

  “I guess.” She sighed. “In any case, I am going to miss having dinner with you. And I’ll miss your good night kisses.”

  “Then I shall bid you good night now, Your Highness.”

  He leaned down, softly kissing her forehead, then her cheek. When his lips finally touched hers, she felt as if her heart would explode. He pulled her tighter against him and the more the kiss deepened, the more her desire for him intensified. The depth of their passion was leading them in one direction—to the point of no return. She broke away, gently pushing him back.