Dawn of Destiny (The Warrior Angels Trilogy - Book 1)

Chapter Twenty

A few days later, after training had concluded and Lucinda dismissed him, Ashton grabbed his journal, a piece of charcoal, and headed out to the enormous ash tree beside the castle garden. He sat with his back against the trunk and flipped open to a fresh page.

At this hour, as the sun started to set, the side-view of the castle was magnificent. The shadows casting from nearby trees and vines against the walls and windows were beautiful. His only disappointment was that he did not have his paints to accurately depict the scene, but sketching out the designs of those shadows would have to suffice.

Ashton examined the details before looking down and preparing himself. He started with the windows and the ivy growing around it. Then he stuck out his tongue as he concentrated on the rest of the castle's outline.

He thought he heard ruffling against the tall grass. Of course, he thought little of it, figuring it was merely a soldier passing by. And then he heard someone clearing their throat.

Ashton sighed and glanced up, half-expecting Joseph. But his heart jerked forward when he saw Princess Beatrice instead. 

He froze, gaping at her.

She was dressed in violet—a color that made her skin glow. Her layered skirts were chiffon and silk, and her jeweled bodice perfectly hugged her form, making him idly wonder if she could even breathe.

"I knew I recognized you," she said sweetly, inching closer to him.

Ashton still couldn't move. Goodness. He was supposed to bow, right?

He needed to stand and bow. She was the princess.

Yet his body refused to move a muscle.

Her gaze flickered to his journal. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Never," he uttered, slamming the book shut. And as he began to stand, she waved her hand.

"Oh, no," she said. "Please do not get up." A smirk turned up the right corner of her lips, and her eyes sparkled mischievously. "You look quite peaceful."

Princess Beatrice turned, facing the barracks, and she put her hands behind her. "I have spent my entire life behind these walls. I sometimes forget there is some actual beauty within them."

Such as yourself. Ashton swallowed hard, his face getting warm by just imagining himself saying that out loud.

She peered back at him and made a noise that resembled a snicker. "Are you always this quiet?"

He shook his head.

"Oh no? Then why don't you tell me something about yourself, Ashton Ward?" It wasn't a question, but more of a challenge. Ashton's pulse felt about ready to burst.

He patted the trunk behind him. "I was, I was... named after this tree here." He laughed weakly, and then he felt his heart drop. What in the world was that, Ashton?

Princess Beatrice's brows drew together. "I see." She folded her arms across her chest, her diamond bracelet jingling. "And why, precisely, were you named after this tree?"

"Ah, the, the... the tree has withstand—with-withstood, I mean, every attack that has occurred on these grounds. Therefore, my father..." he trailed off and hung his head. She seemed bored out of her mind.

Nonetheless, she giggled, and he looked back up at her.

Over her, he spotted his father approaching, and he scrambled to his feet. Her laughing ceased as she turned the other way. His father gracefully bowed to her and asked her how she was and if she needed anything.