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Authors: To Guard Her Heart

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BOOK: Ginny Hartman
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The first two cells she checked were empty. The third was occupied by an aged man that appeared to be nothing but skin and bones. He was huddled in one corner laying deathly still. Perhaps he was already dead. She cringed and quickly moved on, hating the gloom and despair that enshrouded the dungeon.

As she bent to peer into the next cell, her eyes settled on Terric, sitting shirtless with his legs pulled up to his chest in the corner of the small, dirty room, his hands bound in chains. Her emotions warred with themselves—she was elated that she had found him, that she could see with her own eyes that he was alive, but seeing him so defeated and mistreated made her sad and angry. She straightened and glanced to her right and to her left to make sure that she was alone before closing her eyes and making the wisps appear. As soon as she did, she wasted no time touching them and transporting into Terric's cell.

He didn't even notice her entry until she scurried forth and threw herself at him, crushing him in her embrace. He looked up in shock, and she quickly signaled for him to keep quiet. “Oh Terric, I love you,” she said, as she kissed his face repeatedly, feeling an urgency to let him know of her feelings for him.

He smiled at her weakly, as if he hadn't the strength to offer more. “I hope that I am dreaming and that you are truly not here in the dungeon with me.”

“Of course I am here, tis no dream you are having. I came to help you.”

Terric steadied her shoulders with his hands, the heavy metal chains rattling as he did so. “There's nothing you can do, you must go before you are caught.”

“Nay, I refuse to leave without you. Terric, my uncle has ordered your execution to take place in two-day’s time.”

She watched as Terric dropped his head in dejection. “I am already aware of that.”

“You are?” she asked, surprised.

“I overheard Asher talking about it.”

“Then you see that there is no other way. I came to you with a plan. You need to try to transport out of here, I came to help.”

“Nay, Rosalind, it cannot be done.”

“Aye, but it can,” she clung to both of his hands desperately, as she searched his face. “Why do you refuse to even try? It's the only way to save your life.”

He looked at her with such tenderness, it made her heart ache. “Sweet Rosalind, I must confess something to you—I am not truly a transporter.”

“You lied to me?” she asked, confused by his admission.

“Nay, not exactly. I had the gift in me at one point, though I never developed it.”

“Then surely it's still in you; let's try to make it work. Here, close your eyes,” she urged desperately.

“Rosalind, listen to me.” His voice was firm, her head snapping to attention. “As I've been laying here I've had ample time to think. I remember questioning my grandfather endlessly when I was a lad, curious to know all about his captivating gift. He was a talker, my grandfather was, and more than willing to share everything he knew. I never thought about it till just now, but I remember him telling me once that the gift could be given away, deflected if you will.” Rosalind eyed him shrewdly. What was he alluding to? “That afternoon I found you lying in the meadow, I must have unknowingly deflected my gift to you.”

“What? Why would you have done that? You didn't even know me then.”

“Because you appeared to be in trouble, and my natural instinct was to protect you.”

“That's an odd way of trying to protect somebody,” she confessed.

“I agree, but I didn't even know I did it. Remember how you told me that the strange episodes you were experiencing only happened when I was around? I think that is why; the gift originated from me.”

“That's excellent news,” she replied hopefully. “If it can be given back and forth, then I will simply deflect it to you and you can save yourself.”

Terric shook his head sadly, “Tis not the way it works.”

“But of course it is, you just said so yourself.”

“Nay, once the gift has been given, the giver cannot reclaim it, nor can you deflect it to anyone else. It's yours now and yours alone.”

“Nay Terric, please say that isn't so.” Hot, unbidden tears rolled down her face, as all her hopes crashed down around her.

“I'm glad you have the gift, Rosalind.” He whispered softly, gently wiping away her tears with his thumb. “It's the only part of me I was able to give you. It's the only thing you'll have left of me.”

“Don't speak like that,” she sobbed, the tears flowing more freely now.

“I just want you to know that I love you. You made my life happier. You made my heart whole.”

“I love you too,” she wailed as she reached for him, desperate to feel him close to her. His bare skin was cool to the touch, and she longed to hold him and warm him against the chilly draft of the dungeon. She clung furiously to him as if she would never let him go, and truthfully, she wasn't sure she could.

The sound of a man's voice and pounding feet made them both jump. “Rosalind, you must leave now. Please do not argue.”

Her eyes were fearful, as she looked into his face, refusing to believe it would be the last time she would ever do so. Closing her eyes briefly she transported, but not back to the castle as she knew he thought she had done, but rather to the alcove in the hall where she had first gained her access to the dungeon.

She held deathly still as she heard heavy footsteps approaching. She was afraid to even breath, worried about giving her position away. Perhaps she was foolish in remaining in the dungeon, but she refused to leave Terric, refused to give up on saving his life. As long as she still had breath in her lungs, and life in her body, she would fight for him.

She heard the footsteps halt right outside of where she was hiding. She slid further back into the shadows, praying she could remain undetected. A low, male voice began speaking in hushed tones. She strained her ears to hear what he was saying. “I hope you don't prove to be as incompetent as the last men I trusted to get a job done. I never meant for them to kill Queen Constance.” There was a tortured sadness to the man's voice as he spoke, and Rosalind wished she could see who it was that was speaking. It galled her to know that he seemed to be responsible for her parents’ deaths. She felt an urgency to know who was speaking.  

“Aye, I swear to you by an oath that I will see that the right man gets killed.”

“Now listen to my instructions carefully. First, you will execute Terric de Valles. Once he is out of the way, if King Cedric refuses to grant me permission to wed Princess Rosalind, you will kill him as well. Do not act unless and until I give you command.” Rosalind fought the urge to gasp in shock. Surely it was Asher speaking. Terric had told her he was seeking her hand in marriage. But why would he have killed her parents?

“Understood,” the second man mumbled, causing Rosalind to tune into the conversation once more. After a brief pause, she was sure they were done with their conversation, but then the man was speaking again. “Why are you so anxious to wed the princess and spare King Cedric's life? If we plan it right, we can make it appear to be an accident and you can wed Queen Isabel instead. Wouldn't you rather be the High King and rule over the whole of Darth instead of just the Southwestern territory?” It was obvious the man was consumed with bloodlust.

“I don't want Queen Isabel. I wanted Queen Constance but those last idiots I hired killed the woman I love. I am forced to settle for the next best thing, her daughter. This isn't about power, this is about getting what I want, getting what King Cedric denied me nearly two decades ago. She loved me,” he screeched in a loud whisper, “not him, but King Cedric refused to change the law even when she begged him to reconsider. Her father had already betrothed her to King Eustace before he died and there was no way around the agreement, at least according to King Cedric. He was determined to carry forth the arrangements the dead man made.  Imagine my hate for the king when barely a year after she had married, he decided to change the law, allowing women a say in who they wed. I've hated him ever since.”

Suddenly, Asher stopped short, as if he had revealed more than he had intended. “I don't know why I'm telling you all of this,” he spat at the man.

“Because I am your confidante,” the man reasoned,

“Nay, you are nothing more than a hired assassin. Now take this.” He handed the man a small vile of clear liquid. “The guards will be taking the prisoners their daily rations soon. Pour this into Terric's water, all of it, and he'll be dead before daybreak.”

Horror filled Rosalind as the two men finished their conversation and quickly retreated. There was no way she could let Terric partake of that poison, none. She went to Terric immediately, not willing to wait for Asher's accomplice to administer the deathly liquid. Terric looked up at her in surprise. She had gotten to him before his paltry meal had. “Terric, I have no time to explain, but you must listen to me. Do not drink the water they deliver to you, it is being poisoned.”

Before he could question her at all, she was gone. She had transported out of the dungeon cell and back into the alcove. She knew Terric was smart and fully trusted him to do as she instructed. She couldn't even relish the slight relief she felt at knowing she had just saved his life, for now. Instead, she had to come up with a plan, had to find a way to save him indefinitely. The only option she had was to go to the king herself and hope her uncle would believe her.

Chapter 25

To Guard Her Heart

 

Rosalind wasn't sure where to find her uncle, and, remembering Aeden's warning that the whole castle was looking for her, she didn't dare go out into the open to search for him. Instead, she transported to Terric's former bedchamber, the only other place she had been to in the castle. She knew that his chamber had been an extension of her uncle's private bedchambers. With any luck, he would still be there.

It felt weird being back in what had so recently been Terric's private space, without him. The room was disheveled, as if it had been thoroughly searched, and it probably had. She could imagine Asher looking for her angrily after she had disappeared that night. The desk and dresser drawers were overturned, the bed stripped of all of its coverings. She paced back and forth, mustering the courage she would need to go to her uncle.

All she had to do was think of Terric laying bound in the dungeon, soon to be put to death and she felt immediately bolstered up. That coupled with the knowledge that Asher had been behind the attacks on her uncle and possibly her brother, as well as responsible for her parents’ death, caused an urgency to pervade her.

She cautiously pushed the door leading into her uncle's chambers open. As soon as she had stepped into the room, she was seized by two defenders. They gripped her arms so tightly she was sure there would be bruising. They lifted her off of her feet and began dragging her further into the room.

“We found the princess, Your Highness.”

She watched as her uncle scrambled from his bed, still donning his night clothing. “Where did you find her?” He asked the men. It perturbed Rosalind that he wasn't addressing her.

“She came from that room,” one of them indicated the door where with she had just come.

“How can that be possible? We've had the entire room searched.”

“I can't rightfully say how she appeared; she just did,” the larger of the two men tried to explain, lamely.

“Uncle Cedric, I can explain.” All three men turned to stare at her, seemingly surprised that she would dare speak.

“I do not wish to hear you defend that traitor,” her uncle barked, clearly speaking of Terric. “And, I am not impressed with your poor choices either, young lady.”

“Please, just listen. It's not what you think,” she pleaded. And, before he could interrupt, she plowed on, “He wasn't hiding me here at Malton Castle. He delivered me safely, just as you had instructed him to do. He took me to his family's castle where his mother and sister have been caring for me.”

“I refuse to listen to these absurd lies. You do not realize the danger you were allowing yourself to be put in by being here with him, not to mention the invaluable cost of your lost virtue. You will be lucky to find a man who will take you now.”

His comments made her see red. “You do not know Terric, or myself either, if you believe him to have so little honor. He never took advantage of me and he never betrayed you. I transported from Darth two nights ago to see him. He had no prior knowledge that I would be coming to Peltis.”

“What, pray tell, is transporting?”

Rosalind had to speak fast, for it seemed her uncle's patience was wearing thin. “It's a gift I have, where I can travel from one location to the next by merely a thought.”

Her uncle was staring at her quizzically, as if he didn't believe a word she had uttered. “And you mean to tell me you traveled in the blink of an eye all the way from Darth?”

“Yes, I did so again just this morning. How do you think I managed to disappear from Terric's room the other night?”

King Cedric sat on the edge of his bed, looking for all the world as if he wanted to believe her but just couldn't. She made a rash decision to prove to him that what she was speaking of was true. Closing her eyes, she thought of Terric until the silvery wisps of color danced before her face. Since her arms were trapped in the defender's grasps, she ducked her head forward instead so some part of her body could come in contact with them. As soon as she felt the fog like mist against her skin, she was instantly jolted from her position at the head of her uncle's bed and across the room where she was deposited by the door. She stood and watched all three men looking around the room in a panic until their eyes settled on her.

“You were speaking the truth,” her uncle said in awe.

“Aye, I was.” Walking to where he was, she took his hand in hers. “There is more I need to tell you. I know who killed my parents.”

King Cedric's head snapped up, “Who?”

“Asher.”

“Nay, tis not possible.”

“But Uncle Cedric, tis so, I heard him with my own ears. He had hired someone to kill you. My parents were only killed by accident.”

BOOK: Ginny Hartman
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