His Hidden Desire (18+)

Chapter 10

Waking alone in the waning light of late afternoon, Danaë froze for a moment, forgetting where she was.

The room around her was large, with intricate tapestries lining the stone walls. The bed she had lain in was wide and sumptuously dressed with silk sheets, silk coverlet and soft furs.

From her prone position, Danaë surveyed the space, exorbitantly lavish by provincial standards.

Cenric's bedchamber...

And, henceforth, she would be sharing it with him.

A tremor of anticipation shivered through her, and she closed her eyes.

His bed was, in all likelihood, the safest place she could be.

But there was a price to be paid for safety...

Images of last night and their interlude in the library flashed through her mind.

The fiery heat of the memories wasn't enough to counter the cold rush of shame.

Mother would be so proud...

The echoes of her wanton moans rang in her head as a sickly wave of nausea swept over her.

Flinging back the bedclothes, Danaë swung her legs over the side and stood, readjusting her borrowed dress.

It didn't really matter what Mother thought, did it?

She's dead, and I'm doing what I must to stay alive.

Slipping her feet back into her shoes, Danaë walked to the door, unsurprised to find the two guards from her temple visit standing watch just outside.

"Pardon me?"

"Yes, Milady?" If the man had thoughts about the newest occupant of the King's bedchamber, he kept them to himself.

"Would one of you be able to find Ebba?" Danaë named the maid from earlier. "I left some things in my previous room and I would like her to bring them here, please."

Her knapsack didn't contain much beyond travel necessities, but the few tokens she'd managed to keep from the palace and her time in King Feliciano's domain were precious – too precious to part with now.

"Right away, Milady."

"Thank you."

Back inside, Danaë passed the minutes by examining the tapestries – all woven by deft hands laboring for years. Hunting scenes hung next to battles, weddings, and coronations. The skilled handiwork of generations decorated these walls, and as Danaë reached out to touch them, she could feel their age.

There were even several hangings depicting myths of the Old Religion – the beliefs that had prevailed before the Empire had brought its God to these mountains.

Those days were centuries past – the old ways were little more than historical curiosities now.

Danaë traced her hand over the intricate weaving before her, lingering over threads that were brighter, newer than those on the other tapestries.

These weavers knew them – and recently...

As a knock sounded on the door, Danaë wondered if there was someone yet in Cenric's court who could teach her.

"Enter."

Turning, Danaë saw the small, unassuming form of the maid. The familiar, worn bag in her hands had been Danaë's only companion on too many cold, starlit nights. Too many times had she clutched its bulk against her, huddling in the undergrowth, praying that her pursuers would pass her by.

Accepting it with a small smile, Danaë felt comforted by its weight in her hands.

"Thank you."

"Will there be anything else, my Lady?"

"Um..." Looking around, Danaë thought about the labyrinthine halls of Cenric's home. If she was going to be staying, then she needed to know the lay of the land. "Could you show me around the castle?"

"If you wish, my Lady." Her eyes held a hint of uncertainty.

Setting the satchel down beside the bed, Danaë nodded, "Please."

The two guards joined them on their tour, confirming Danaë's suspicion that Cenric had ordered them to protect her, specifically. As they walked, she learned that the talkative one was Osmund, and his stoic companion was Leofstan.

Together, the small group explored while Danaë tried to learn her new environment.

In the gallery above the great hall, she stood at the railing, watching the bustle down below as the servants prepared for the evening meal.

"My Lady, they'll be summoning you for dinner soon."

Shaking herself from her reverie, "Yes, of course." Looking up at her, Danaë realized, "I've also been keeping you from your duties – I apologize, thank you for indulging me."

Ebba gave a small smile, "It was no trouble, my Lady."

She turned to lead the way back to Cenric's chamber, and as Danaë moved to follow, a dark figure appeared below, stalking across the great hall.

The man's stride suggested annoyance and impatience as he moved at a swift pace, stopping only once to appraise a scullery girl's backside.

A subtle chill – a premonition perhaps – scuttled up her spine as she followed his movements.

Who is that?

On the way back to Cenric's room, the small assembly was waylaid by a young woman who'd apparently been searching for them.

Dipping a rushed curtsey, the girl began, breathless, "My lady, his Highness requests your presence in the Council chambers."

Fear prickled Danaë's skin – was it Maxson?

Feeling the pooling dread in her belly, Danaë followed the maid down to the ground floor, to the large space where Cenric met in private with his councilors.

As the doors opened, she felt a small wave of relief upon seeing his unconcerned smile.

That relief faded as she noticed the man next to him – the same dark figure that had so recently crossed the great hall.

The man's eyes were cool and calculating as they beheld her, leaving Danaë feeling strangely unclean.

"And here she is..." Cenric began, "Baroness, I've been waiting for you."

Turning her gaze back to him, Danaë answered, "My apologies, your Majesty; I asked my maid to give me a tour of the castle."

"Oh?" Amusement colored his features, "I wish you had asked me – I would have happily escorted you."

Danaë shook her head, "I wouldn't wish to take up so much of your time for something so trivial."

A faint grin crept onto his face, "Your happiness and comfort are far from trivial matters, my Lady." Looking aside, he continued, "But, to the issue at hand: my Lady, may I present Sir Godric," he gestured to the black-clad man next to him, "Starting tomorrow, he will be training you in the art of combat."

There was an insolent gleam in his eyes as he examined Danaë, "I look forward to working with you, my Lady."