Someone knocks on the door and Madity shuffles over and opens it. “Sir Devlan.” She curtsies slightly, her bad leg hindering her. “The princess is ready to break her fast and meet with her soon-to-be betrothed.”
There is no response from the other side of the doorway. I push a heavy breath through my lips and rise from my seat. Running my hands along the gown Madity selected, I brush out the creases, then brace myself to face the prince.
As I step toward the door, I’m surprised by the knight in the corridor. He’s not dressed in armor or sporting the crimson and silver insignia of the Force. He stands at perfect attention to his full height of perhaps six-two. His black and midnight-blue uniform brings out the color of his pale blue eyes, and his dark, nearly black hair hangs in loose wisps, feathering his eyes and ears. His eyes penetrate mine, and my breath shudders as they flick down my body, assessing me.
Madity steps to the side. “Princess Zara, may I present Sir Devlan Capra, Prince Sebastian’s first knight.”
“Princess.” Sir Devlan bows at the waist.
I don’t know the proper way in which to acknowledge his address, so I simply nod. “Sir Devlan.”
He sweeps his hand through the air and holds his arm outstretched. I assume that’s my cue to walk ahead of him. I turn to Madity. “Thank you for everything.”
She waves me off. “’Tis my pleasure and honor, m’lady.”
I step into the corridor and head toward the spiral staircase. Once we reach the lower level, I take in every inch of the castle, endeavoring to learn my surroundings and my way around here.
Deep blue and silver tapestries drape the walls. Large pillars reach toward the steepled ceiling, and dark veins in the stone walls separate the swirls of gold, silver, and amber. Castle Karm is something constructed right out of one of the antique books my father used to sneak to me. Books I hungrily devoured about a time before the Final War. Before King Hart built a land around his ideal perfect society.
Camelot.
He’s constructed his entire realm after King Arthur’s beloved city, trusting its citizens to recreate the peaceful and picture-perfect utopia. Hadley and I spent many hours debating and inventing possible reasons why King Hart chose Camelot as his guide. It continues to remain a mystery to us as well as the rest of the citizenry. Though I admit, it’s a fine i
dea, trying to reinvent a time once believed to be unspoiled. But Camelot was a dream, a fiction.
Karm is real, and not perfect.
The air is chill, and the corridor’s disturbingly quiet. The only sound comes from Devlan’s boots hitting hard stone and echoing through the corridor as he marches behind me. I glance over my shoulder. His right hand rests on the pommel of his sword—he must be left-handed—and his gaze is steady on me. Irritated, I face forward. I don’t like the feel of him walking behind me, scouting for some attack as if he’s my guard. Or my servant.
“Sir Devlan, you could walk ahead of me,” I say. “I think you could better protect me from the front.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, then says, “There is no attack to fear, princess.” I wait for him to say something more, but he doesn’t.
“Then why not walk in front or beside me if there’s no reason for it?”
He takes another moment to answer. It’s infuriating. “There’s a reason.”
“And…it is?”
“I would like to keep my eyes on you.” The thought of this knight watching my backside makes my insides squirm. I hug my arms around my stomach as he continues. “It’s my duty to place knights around you to protect you. Even from yourself.”
I slow my steps. “What does that mean?”
“The sudden disappearance of the princess wouldn’t bode well.” His footsteps quicken, bringing him closer. “I don’t want to explain to King Hart or Prince Sebastian how I lost the princess if she manages to get herself lost.”
My blood freezes in my veins. Did he hear what I said to Madity? Is he the person eavesdropping on the other side of the listening devices? Or did Madity expose me? No. I don’t believe that kind-hearted woman would do that. But the fact the prince’s first knight may be aware of my intentions is unsettling.
I’m quiet as he guides me around a corner toward an indoor garden. I reach for the atrium door handle, but Devlan’s hand grasps it first. He leans his weight against the door, keeping it closed. He’s nearly pressed into me, a mere inch between us, and the heat of his body sends a current zipping along my skin.
He smells of forest and mint, and something sweet I can’t identify. “It would be unwise, princess,” he whispers, his warm breath brushing my ear. “If you were to suddenly disappear, my knights and I would not be the only ones punished.”
I loose the breath I’d been holding. He presses the handle down and opens the door as his other hand cups my lower back, giving me a slight push into the sunlit room.
Fear prickles my skin, but all questions and thoughts are forced to the back of my mind as I’m greeted with Prince Sebastian rising from his chair. Gold and silver are woven through his cream tunic, and an intricate crest showing a lion—its massive paw gripped around a heart—decorates its center. It glimmers in the morning light, drawing my eye. His elegant garment is drawn together tightly by a studded belt. A sword scabbard hangs at his waist.
“Your Highness.” Devlan lowers himself into a dignified bow. He then turns toward me, dips his head, and moves to the far end of the atrium. He leans against the floor-to-ceiling window, keeping his eyes trained on the prince and me standing awkwardly before each other.
I pry my eyes away from the knight’s scrutiny and drag them slowly across the lush vegetation. Large stone planters of palms, gardenias, and exotic plants I can’t name fill the open, airy room. A makeshift waterfall flows over jutting rocks into a cement pond. Lily pads and water poppies float along its rippling surface. Finally, reluctantly, I bring my gaze to the prince.