Romane & Erzählungen
Reign's Retribution - 4 - The Bond of Seven

Chapter 6

Already from afar Reign could see the blazing fires, hear the loud laughter and music, and smell the roasted boar a village youth had caught earlier that day. As he drew closer the cool night air caressed his face with a soothing touch.

“Hey! I didn’t expect to see you here”, Vigour walked up to him.

Reign shrugged.

“Good thing you're not missing out on this. The girls…they are Sirens!”

Together the men reached the centre of activities and found a seat near the fire. Reign didn’t have to do so much as raise a hand to get a huge cup of wine shoved into it. He was just settling in and taking a deep drink, when he looked at the fire and nearly choked.

“I told you they are sizzling”, Vigour chirped.

Reign barely nodded. Around the fire danced five beautiful women. In spite of the simple clothes they wore they stood as proud as any lady. Therein now lay Reign’s problem, he could have sworn one of the women was the lady he had failed to catch the other night. He took another sip and shook his head, he had to be mistaken.

 

Azalea was already panting, but she had no desire to stop. The heat of the fire tickled her skin and her hair was so unruly, she wasn’t sure she'd ever be able to comb through it again, but she didn’t care. Dressed as a peasant she had managed to sneak out of the castle to for the first time in her life really live. She was through sticking to rules and conventions, these last two days before her birthday she would do all the things she had always wanted but never dared. And more.

“Didn’t I tell you, that it was going to be wonderful, milady!?” her maid Mary panted next to her.

Azalea laughed, “Yes, yes, it’s wonderful!”, she said. Brushing a lose strand of hair from her face she turned once more.

“Beautiful,” a deep voice rasped behind her at the same time that she was gently pulled from the dance-floor.

Azalea found herself staring at an unexpected face, “Lord Vulgar!”

“I´d compare you to the sun or the moon, but those mere globes fade in your presence!”, he took her hand and lightly brushed his lips against her knuckles, a twinkle in his eyes.

Azalea gaped. Never. Never had anyone complimented her like that. Struggling to shut her mouth, she had the presence of mind to blush.

“Thank you, milord,” she breathed, “That was wonderful.”

Vulgar bowed. "I strive to please."

Taking her arm in his, he led her off the dance-floor to a booth where punsh was sold. He bought two large cups and handed one to her, "What brings you here tonight milady?"

Azalea's smile dropped a fraction, "The dance...", she said, trying to sound confident.

The nobleman smiled knowingly, making Azalea blush again.

"I - it was a silly idea..."

"Nonsense. It's good to escape once in a while."

Jared Vulgar was the last man she had ever expected to say anything the like. The knight of hardly thirty years always seemed to exude control and self-discipline. His dark brown eyes were always cool, his lean, tall frame always dressed in shades of elegant back, his walnut (?) hair was never anything short of impeccable; he was the persona of the perfect nobleman.

"So how's your punsh?"

His question making her blink, Azalea answered,"Very good, thank you."

It was definitely the strongest beverage she had ever tried but she found she liked it very much. Another rule she could break, she decided. Getting a little bit soused couldn't harm, could it? And it was very tasty indeed.

“Milady! There you are! The dancing starts again, you can't miss this!” Mary, came running toward them. Her lips were puffed and her face flushed. A handsome young man, who came jogging after her seemed to be the reason for that.

"I know when I'm being dismissed", Jared said, smiling one last time at Azalea.

 

 

Minutes later Azalea´s hair was completely undone. Light brown curls fell wildly unto her waist; the satin ribbons mere specks of colour within it.

When the beat of the music changed Mary turned and called out to her, “This is where it gets interesting!”

A number of men stepped forward. Following the other women’s example, Azalea danced around them, letting them get close, but staying out of reach once they tried to grab her. Only when a man had tried enough – and was to the women’s liking – would the rules of the dance allow for the women to let themselves fall into the chosen ones arms and continue the dance with him. Smiling Azalea noticed, that Thorn was among the men who had entered the circle of dancers. When she twirled around him, he tried and reached out for her, but she only laughed light heartedly. The second time however that he tried to reach her, she almost let him catch her. Already was she turning again to head away a second time, when she felt strong arms wrap around her waist.

“I don’t think so, young lady!” Thorn grumbled contentedly into her ear as he pulled her back against himself.

Azalea giggled when she felt her back collide with the knight’s muscular chest.

“I believe, milord, you are not aware of the rules to this dance, `tis the lady to choose the lord, not the other way”, she laughed as she turned in the circle of his arms to face him.

“The lady’s choice, aye?” Thorn´s eyes twinkled. His hair looked dishevelled and Azalea swore he looked like a rake if she´d ever seen one.

“Indeed.”

“Well, I would really like to let you make up your mind, but there is a little problem to that”, Thorn grinned.

He pushed her an arms length away from himself, as they danced.

“A problem?”

“Indeed”, he answered, grinning and pulling her back into his arms.

The music was steadily getting more alluring.

Placing her hands around Thorn’s neck, she looked up at him, into his eyes, “And what would that problem be?” she breathed, her voice seductive.

Thorn laughed and smiled smugly, as he held her close to himself, “The problem, sweet Azalea, is that you are thoroughly drunk, and I don’t trust your judgement.”

“Well, then you will never know if it would have been you, I chose.”

“Why, I believe it would! Given that you would have made it around the fire another time.”

“You are cocky!” Azalea exclaimed.

Thorn raised an eyebrow, “I know you like what I’ve got to offer…”, he said, as he placed his hands securely around her waist, “There is no way you would have refused a fine – dashingly handsome – gentleman such as myself.”

Without further ado, he picked her off her feet, and carried her off the dance floor.

Azalea started to protest between bursts of laughter. She playfully kicked her feet and squealed, but never let go of his shoulders.

Chapter 7

As Reign sat next to the fire, he couldn’t take his gaze off Azalea. It was her, he was sure now.

Out of all the men in the world it had been Jared to accompany her. It was hilarious, that. Reign didn't laugh.

His blood had turned ice cold, seeing her chat with a man more deadly than a steel blade. She had laughed with him, put her hand on his arm. The bolt of jealousy that had ripped through him had come as unexpected as the return of his desire for her. It made no sense. He drew a frustrated breath. The woman was nothing like the members of her sex he usually bedded. She was too plump, and she was too short, her hair was light brown where he preferred black, her skin lightly bronzed, where he preferred it light. She wasn't his type at all. Sighing, he put his cup of wine down. He would go about finding the pleasurable company he had planned to seek and see if that might not straighten out his mind.

Just then, when he had decided to leave her be and find another occupation than watching her, a good dozen men stepped towards the women, who danced.

When Reign watched Azalea gliding in and out of the reach of the men, he froze. When he watched Thorn catch her and cuddle her to his body, he cursed the friend to doomsday. When Azalea put her arms around Thorns neck, Reign stood, clenching his fists. But it was not until Thorn picked her up and carried her away, that Reign’s feet started to beat the ground beneath him.

 

“Put her down!” Reigns harsh command thundered through the night, as he reached the two dancers.

Thorn stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face him. Azalea, who was facing Thorn, craned her neck to see who was talking.

“Who do you think you are?” she cried, until she looked him in the eye and recognition hit her, “Oh, I see-“, she started,

“Put the lady down!”

“-ever the man at a lady’s aid.”

Slowly Thorn let her slide down his body. He couldn´t very well disobey a direct order.

“Thorn, would you be so kind, as to lead me to the benches?” looking up at the knight, Azalea grabbed his arm and tugged.

Thorn hesitated, he knew Reign very well and could tell when the man was jesting and when he was serious. Right now Reign was dead serious. Almost like in battle, he looked curled to strike. Only Thorn didn’t know at all what was wrong.

Reign on the other hand knew very well what he wanted, or what he didn’t want. He took a deep breath, “Milady, I apologize for my manners, but it is entirely unacceptable for you to be at a feast such as this!” his voice didn't sound apologetic at all, “Especially alone,” he added, throwing Thorn a dirty look.

Azalea hiccuped and stared, really he had to be joking! “It isn't certainly not your business to tell me where I can or cannot go, milord!”

She frowned, then scratched her head. That had come out right, had it not?

Reign glared first at her, then at Thorn. Apparently it had not. She felt her cheeks flare red, really, she didn't normally have trouble with speech. Did she?

“Milady, have you been drinking?” Reign inquired incredulously.

Her eyes widened.

“Thorn!” he thundered, hands flexing into fists and back, “She’s sozzled!”

Punching his finger against the other man’s chest, he continued, “This is going to have consequences!”

Thorn stared at the ground, there was no sense arguing with Reign now.

“I forbid you to talk to me – or about me, that is – like that, milord!”, Azalea spoke up, very glad that she had regained command over her speech centre.

Reign turned towards her and curled his lip. Then one corner of his mouth quirked upward.

“Milady, could you explain to me what you are doing here, outside the castle walls, in the middle of the night, with throughout questionable company?”

“The only questionable company right now, milord...”, Azalea shot back.

Thorn grinned.

But when Reign looked her in the face, his eyes blazing with intensity, Azalea had to admire him – and there were only so many tasks a woman could do at a time, “is you”, she managed to breathe.

His face lit by the fire Reign looked even more breathtaking than when she had seen him before. Was it the light playing tricks, or had his eyes really this subtle shade of green in them? And those stubbles on his cheeks! No nobleman she had ever met had sported that kind of growth, it looked very risqué, and wild. Azalea found herself liking it very much. Caring to study it further and punsh flowing freely through her veins, she reached her hand up to touch it.

Reigns breath caught. Frozen he stood there, waiting for her skin to touch his.

Then she took a sharp breath and pulled back her limb, her fingers still trembling. Damn, but she must have remembered propriety.

Thorn coughed, looking at Reign curiously.

“I think I’m gonna leave you two alone”, he turned to Azalea, “as for you princess, make sure you tell me when you want to go. I’ll take you home then.”

“I’ll take her!”

Ignoring Reign´s comment, he looked at her questioningly.

“It’s alright, Thorn”, Azalea declared royally.

“Well then, princess, it was my pleasure!” he bowed.

“The pleasure was mine, milord!”

The smile she granted Thorn felt like a punch in the gut to Reign, the way she watched him leave was nothing less than torture.

“I'm taking you back now!” he bit off.

Azalea swayed a bit, she was so incredulous, “Oh, I believe not, sir! The only place you should be going is right after Thorn to beg apologies!”

He raised his eyebrows and she continued, “I don’t know who you are, but there lies no fun in fighting Lord Reign and his men – who Thorn happens to be one of!”

Reign smiled to himself, as he felt his shoulders relax, “Is he now?”

“He is!”

“And you don't think I'd stand a chance against them?” he tried to suppress a grin.

“No, I do not. Obviously.”

He no longer managed to keep a straight face, “You are aware that you're hurting my male pride, are you not?”

Despite herself Azalea had to smile. For all the vices she thought him to have, he took her insult rather sporting.

“I thought I was just stating the obvious.”

“Obviously,” a dangerous twinkle entered his eyes.

“They are strong!”

“Have you ever battled any of them?”

She felt like swatting him, “You know full well that I haven't! But you should be careful who you're jesting about, there are no stronger, better skilled or more noble knights in the entire kingdom than Lord Reign and his band!”

Reign swallowed his laughter at the unintended compliment, “Do you fear for me, milady?”

“Milord, someday someone will wash that devilish grin off your face! I'm just trying to ensure that day won't be any time soon.”

Reign would have laughed out loud, had she not meant it sincerely. Her concern for him made him feel oddly pleased.

“So you 'd mind if I got hurt?” he asked, reducing the distance between them to mere inches.

Azalea blinked, she should have felt intimidated, but fear was the last thing on her mind. For all the things she didn't know, she knew that he was a handsome man. And hadn't she planned on celebrating her final days of freedom? Why not do something reckless? She drew in a breath and let a slow smile spread across her face.

He caught her eye when his fingers first touched her hand and a corner of his mouth quirked up lazily. He bent down to kiss her hand but before his lips made contact with her skin he turned her hand palm up and placed his lips gently on the inside of her wrist.

Azalea’s heart missed a beat or two … or three. It was the most sensual thing she had ever experienced. Not that she'd had much experience, but she had been kissed before. On the lips. She'd liked it then, had even thought it terribly exciting. How unbelievably wrong she'd been! Nothing she could remember even remotely compared to his sizzling touch that made her lips burn. She closed her eyes.

And leaned not to do that on a pint of push. The ground suddenly seemed to quake and the lovely feeling in her belly made place for another one. She felt sick. When she opened her eyes again the handsome knight had let go of her hand and was looking down at her expectantly.

She braced herself, “Yes, yes milord, I would be sorry if you got hurt – as I would be for Lord Reign. If he ever heard what you said, he would have to call you out!”

“And why would that make you feel sorry for him?” Reign asked confused and not a little irritated that she didn't seem at all shaken from his kiss. Usually women all but swooned into his arms, when he paid them attention thus, it was his fool proof move on the fair sex.

”Well, the Duke of Canterbury is the most honourable man in the kingdom! He is kind, sensitive, smart, fierce, strong, strong willed, a great leader,… you name a trait or virtue and you can be sure he has it. That man is simply perfect!”

Reign would have loved to tell her that he was said man to get her into his arms but then he was also curious where the conversation would lead.

“That doesn’t explain…”

“Yes it does! It would be dishonourable for him to fight a... to fight such an ill behaved gentleman”, she spoke, her nose held high.

“Like me.”

“Indeed!” Azalea snapped, then rethought her words, “Well, a little. As far as I know.”

Reign couldn't help teasing her, “So I’m little?”

“Yes!”, sputtering she tried to think clearly, “No. No, you are not small.” she eyed him up and down, “you are a rather large man, in fact.”

“So you think I’m fat?” god, but she looked sweet when she was irked.

“You are a wretched scoundrel, is what you are to be making fun of me like that!” Azalea scolded him, humour lurking in her eyes.

“A scoundrel,” he didn't ask, it was statement. As he spoke he bent down a little, bringing his face closer to hers.

Azalea nodded. The burning sensation returning to her lips, she knew he wanted to kiss her. And by God, she wanted him to, but it would feel like defeat if she let him do it on his terms. She took a step back. “And very vain.”

Reign didn't flinch, he kept staring at her with the same smouldering need, “Vanity hasn't got anything to do with it.”

“You certainly know how to employ your looks.”

“You think I'm pretty?”

“Are you fishing for compliments, milord?”

Reign coughed a laugh, he very much needed it too, the tension he felt was becoming solid. His heart beat wildly in his chest and he had to physically stop himself from crushing her to his body in a desperate embrace. He wanted her so bad it hurt.

“Would you flatter me, milady?” he was treading dangerous grounds.

“I won't deny that you're pleasing to behold.”

“And there I thought I was liked for being such an agreeable chap.”

Azalea sighed in mock empathy, “It must be terrible to be reduced to good looks.”

“It is, milady,” putting an arm around her waist he stepped closer again, “unless it pleases you.”

Azalea's breath caught but she stood her ground, “And pleasing me is one of your objectives, milord?”

“I am a knight if you remember. There's nothing more important to me than the welfare of a beautiful woman.”

“Are you complementing me?”

Brushing a strand of hair from her shoulder Reign nodded, “Most highly so, milady.”

When Azalea swayed toward him Reign felt a wave of victory wash over him at the same time he was hit by a pang of guilt. The girl was a far cry from women who liked being seduced for a night of pleasure. He could sense her breeding in her every move, no matter how hard she fought it. He was the worst kind of rogue, acting the way he did, making her give in to his assault, charming her mercilessly. On the other hand, he couldn't help but feel like she was at least as much in control of the situation as he was, as though she were seducing him. It was a very enticing thought that.

When her lips parted invitingly, it was maddening. He had to taste her. So what if she was a lady, it wasn't like she was trying to stop him. If anything, she had brought this on herself.