Chapter Thirty-Two

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            “What?” Alana said in a shrilly, panicked voice. “The King has asked for my presence at supper?”
            Nettie paled considerably to her right.

            Matilda merely presented a staunch expression. “It would appear so, girl. Make yourself look presentable. You shan’t disappoint the King.”

            Alana swallowed back a tight knot in her throat. “I cannot-“

            “You don’t have a choice.” Matilda snapped, “The King has asked specifically for you-if you refuse to show, surely you’ll face dire consequences.” With that, the ample woman strolled from the room.

            “What am I to do, Nettie?”

            Some color returned to Nettie’s face and her cousin turned to fully face her. “You’ll go to dinner as requested.”

            Someone suddenly stormed into the room, startling both her and Nettie. Alana took a step back, somewhat frightened by the sheer anger contorting Curran’s face.

             “Leave.” He growled to Nettie.

            Her cousin hastened from the room but not before exchanging a worried look with Alana and she knew her cousin wouldn’t be far from the hall.

            “The King suddenly has an interest in you, why is that?” he demanded, stepping toward her.

            “I know naught.”

            “Surely you know-“

            “How should I know?” she snapped, “If I did, I certainly wouldn’t tell you.”

            His hand lashed out and he jerked her against him. “I should take you here and now and be done with it!”

            Alana felt a tremor run through her but she was determined not to show it. She had heard many a frightening things of Curran and though the thought deeply frightened her, she didn’t understand why Curran hesitated to act on his impulses.

            She was beginning to wonder if Fallon had been right about Curran. Did Curran truly have strong feelings for her?

            His silver eyes fell to her lips and she stiffened. If that were so, her feelings were not the same and she would fight Curran all the way.

            Slowly, he unfurled his hand from around her arm. “Dinner will prove to be interesting.”

            Alana dreaded supper. She hadn’t seen Fallon since that previous day and in that moment, she wished she had. Had Fallon said something to provoke the King? Why was he suddenly so interested in her? Was it simply because she was Saxon? Did he view her as a hindrance to Rosalind and Fallon’s supposed troth?

            She had heard that the Conqueror was a man of ruthless traits. She much doubted he would show her any consideration; he would mostly likely banish her from Linden than crack a smile.

            She prolonged and dallied as much as she could but it wasn’t long before a subtle knock sounded at her door, proclaiming dinner.

            Sighing heavily, she moved to open it and was seemingly startled to find a bristling Rosalind on the other side.

            Dark, sloe eyes narrowed angrily. “What have you said to the King?” she demanded.

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