Read The Stolen Brides 02 -His Forbidden Touch for Free Online Page B

“She is here, in
the abbey. That is why I chose this place for our meeting. Until
she is wed, I fear for her life. I want her kept safe,” he said
adamantly.
    Royce watched the king, thinking that only
someone who knew Aldric well would detect the concern, the love
behind his words. “So you want me to hunt down this assassin.
Ferret out these rebels as quickly as possible.”
    Aldric glanced up at him, genuine surprise
lightening his somber expression for a moment. “Nay.” He shook his
head. “Nay, I have other men pursuing them even now. I have a more
vital task in mind for you, Saint-Michel. Come.” He picked up a
third cup and motioned for Royce to join him at the table.
    Royce stepped closer, feeling strangely
uneasy, wondering what could possibly be more vital than capturing
those who had tried to kill a member of the royal family.
    He came to stand on the opposite side of the
table, watching in puzzlement as Aldric turned the three wooden
goblets upside down and lined them up in a row. The sound of the
torch crackling beside the door seemed unnaturally loud in the
silence, competing with the monks’ ethereal chants in a way that
gave Royce a fleeting impression of hovering between Hell and
Heaven.
    The king reached into his velvet tunic and
withdrew a gleaming jewel—one of the garnets found only in the
mountains of Châlons, renowned for their bloodred color that was
almost black. The rare gems were sought after by traders from all
four corners of the globe.
    He slipped the gem under one of the cups,
then began moving them back and forth and around each other, his
pale, gnarled hands surprisingly quick. “You have seen this game
played at fairs, have you not?”
    “Aye.” Royce leaned down, bracing his arms
against the tabletop. “It is used by tricksters to part fools from
their coin.”
    “Indeed.” A smile lifted one corner of the
king’s mouth. “With sleight of hand, the wily conjurer hides his
precious prize. He confuses his opponents by keeping them
guessing.” He paused, and Royce pointed to one of the cups. Aldric
lifted it to reveal that the jewel was not beneath it. “I dare not
wait for the rebels’ next attack. This time, they might succeed.”
He started shuffling the goblets again. “So I have devised a plan
to get my daughter to Thuringia, as quickly and safely as possible.
A decoy, her lady’s maid, has already taken Princess Ciara’s place
in the wedding procession that left the palace five days ago,
surrounded by guards.”
    Again he paused, and again Royce pointed to
one of the cups, certain he had the right one this time. Aldric
lifted it.
    And again the garnet was not there.
    The older man began shifting the cups again,
a familiar, cunning tone in his voice. “We have explained that the
princess is in delicate condition, still recovering from her
injury, and must have privacy. I have also dispatched a band of
courtiers to travel to Thuringia by the northern route. But the
rebels will not find their quarry among that group, either. Because
the real princess …”
    He paused once more, and this time Royce
concentrated before making his choice.
    And when the king lifted the goblet, the
jewel sparkled beneath it.
    “The real princess,” he repeated softly,
picking up the garnet as if it might break, “will journey to
Thuringia in disguise and in secret, traveling to the south.” He
held the gem out to Royce. “Through the mountains.”
    Royce stared at the garnet, then met
Aldric’s piercing blue gaze, suddenly understanding the importance
of what the king was asking. If not for the table holding him up,
he might have fallen to the floor. “You want me to serve as
her escort?”
    “Her escort and her guardian. I need a man
who is willing to risk his life in this cause, a man with enough
strength, daring, and intelligence to keep her safe. And I cannot
trust those in my own court.” When Royce did not take the jewel,
Aldric set it on the table halfway between them.