After they finished their breakfast, the four went their separate ways. Zane returned to his desk in his suite. Seth strode off to hunt down his squire. Narelle went to spend the morning socialising with the other young women of the court. Tamara wandered out to the corner of the main palace gardens she had claimed as her own. None of them saw the figure lurking in an alcove down the hall from the breakfast room. None of them heard his quiet oath as he turned away and stormed out to the stables.
***
Tamara's thoughts were burdened by the realisation that she didn't know her sister as well as she thought. When Zane had risen to escort Narelle to the table, she finally realised that Narelle's subdued response to the returned knight was not an act. She pressed her lips together behind the veil that she wore in public in deference to the customs of her homeland. A memory rose of the way the younger couple had parted -- or rather merged with one another -- before Seth's departure. More, she remembered the expression of surprise and almost fear that had raced across her sister's expression. Narelle had pulled away from the knight and practically run back to Tamara. In that moment, her sister had grown from girl to woman and the change had not sat comfortably within her. Tamara finally reached the little arbour covered in trailing jasmine where she spent at least an hour each morning. Entering, she whispered a small spell for privacy, one that had been passed down through her family for generations. Content in her solitude, she seated herself comfortably on the carved bench. Closing her eyes, she set her mind to puzzling out precisely what was going on between Seth and her sister.
***
Although he spent nearly an hour searching for his squire, Seth was unable to find him. The younger man was not in either of their quarters, the stables, the kitchens or amongst the various gatherings of the court he came across as he searched the palace. As he passed one such gathering, a low comment consumed his attention. "Our prince has been bewitched by that foreign demoness," muttered one over-garbed courtier to another. Pausing, Seth noted that the speaker was about his own age and there seemed to be an edge of jealousy to the other man's tone. "It's not right," he continued. The prince would have gone on his way had he not recognised the listener as one of his father's advisors.
The older man slowly shook his head and replied, "It's just not right, lad. Why, your sister would make a far more appropriate queen than that foreign demoness." The prince saw the younger man's chest puff out and an expression of pride wreath his face. Blinded by his self-importance, the younger courtier missed the gleam of smug superiority in the older man's eyes. Seth, however, saw it clearly and decided that the matter of his squire's whereabouts could wait until he found out what was going on his brother's court.
***
"Oh, Narelle! I simply must tell you what happened to me last night," gushed Lady Flora Donahughe. Narelle grimaced in exasperation behind the veil she had donned before leaving the breakfast room. Before she could make a hasty excuse -- and an even hastier retreat -- the Lady Flora was by her elbow. Flora steered her to a private alcove along the edge of the hall where the young ladies of the court gathered in the mornings. Without further ado, the lady launched into a detailed description of her adventures the previous evening. She had ventured into the gardens with her latest beau and then spent a good two hours frolicking with the young courtier under the moonlight. Without pausing for Narelle's reaction Flora told her about the way the young man had worshipped first her breasts with hands and tongue and teeth. He had then given her sex the same attention before taking his own satisfaction in her mouth and hands.
It was just as well Flora hadn't paused. Although Narelle knew that her promiscuous friend intended no harm, she definitely did not need a blow by blow retelling of what had happened. "And that was just the first time!" exclaimed the lady, waving a hand in the air as though to cool her heated face. "I just love young men, don't you Narelle? They just keep on and on and on." She lowered her hand and leaned forward to stare at the veiled girl expectantly. Narelle merely kept silent, unsure how to respond appropriately. Was she supposed to compliment Flora on finding a man who could 'keep on and on and on'? Or would it be better to make a prim remark along the lines of how was she supposed to know given her virginal state? She prayed that someone would come and rescue her before she did something she'd later regret. A shriek from Flora started a frown between Narelle's eyes. The other lady's cry of, "Prince Seth, you're back!" made her shrink back in her chair. As the man quietly greeted the other woman, Narelle reminded herself to be careful what you asked for in case you actually received it.
***
Trying to hide his impatience from the Lady Flora, Seth answered her questions as briefly as he could manage politely. He remembered this particular lady had already had a bit of a reputation before his departure. After five minutes of being interrogated and ogled in equal parts, he cut the lady off with a charming smile and a request to speak to Narelle in private. With rounded eyes, Flora nodded and skipped out of the alcove. He turned to the remaining lady and found her eyes fixed on the floor as they had been in the breakfast room. Running a hand through his rich brown locks, he huffed an exasperated sigh. "Could you please look at me?" he demanded quietly.
A glimmer of forest green was accompanied by, "Why?"
"I need you to pay attention, this is important," he snapped. When she merely kept her head bowed, he gripped her chin and raised her face to his own. The fear in her gaze made him release her as if she'd burned his fingertips. "I'm sorry. Don't be afraid. I swear I won't harm you." He laid his hands flat on the table and leaned as far back as he could in an attempt to reassure her. Trying to break through the barrier that seemed to have grown between them, he said, "I need your help, I think your sister's in trouble."
***
Zane leaned back in his chair and let his thoughts drift away from the contracts he'd been reading. His mind touched briefly on the previous night's pleasure and then skipped back five years to the first and only time he and Tamara had actually made love. The memory was a treasure, one that had given him strength during her absence. He briefly hoped that together they might make more memories like it in the near future. When that thought triggered the memory of her father's threat, he ruthlessly turned his mind back to his lover and let the scene of their interaction unfold in his mind.