Unbound Page 12

  Goddess, grant it may be so, Brynn prayed silently. I don’t want to leave the palace—not so soon. And I don’t want a husband who will own my body and do what he likes with it, either!

  She looked in the viewer again at the skimpy top of her gown and the small, round curves of her breasts pushed up and out as though they were trying to get free. Just the thought of some stranger’s hands on her there made her stomach roll with nausea. Let alone the thought of some strange male poking his shaft between her legs…

  Just then there was a rapping on her door.

  “Nearly time for the ball, Mistress,” Varin’s deep voice called. “Are you ready to be escorted?”

  “Almost,” Brynn called. She looked at her lady in waiting. “Lady Tasmina, thank you for your help but I know you have your own preparations to see to. You can go and I’ll finish my hair myself.”

  “Well, if you’re sure…see you at the ball, Princess.” Lady Tasmina gave a negligent shrug and left. She wasn’t nearly as pushy or prying as the ill-fated Lady Amalthia had been—which was one reason Brynn had raised her to the position of head lady in waiting.

  Brynn waited until she was certain Tasmina had gone and then went to the door and opened it just a crack so that she could see her Kindred.

  “Come in,” she murmured to Varin, who was dressed to emphasize his slave status tonight.

  He was shirtless, the broad planes of his muscular chest bare, and around the strong column of his throat was a thick, black pain collar like all of the other slaves wore. He was also wearing a new set of dress leathers with scarlet striping along the sides of his trouser legs and his black boots were shined to a high gloss.

  “Should I?” he rumbled cautiously. “Is there anyone else here?”

  “It should be all right. All the other ladies in waiting are elsewhere,” Brynn told him.

  “All right. Whew…” He gave a long, low whistle when he entered her chamber and saw her dress. “That’s some outfit, little one.”

  “I know. It’s awful, isn’t it?” Brynn made a face and tugged at the bodice again. She’d decided to leave her hair long and loose around her shoulders—at least that gave her some coverage, though it would probably look odd when every other female at the ball had their hair up in an elaborate headdress. But anything to cover—or at least partially cover—her exposed breasts.

  “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.” There was a warm glow in his bronze eyes—a heat meant only for her.

  Brynn felt an answering heat in her belly and her cheeks grew warm with a pleasurable kind of embarrassment. She didn’t mind wearing the revealing gown in front of the big Kindred. If he was the only one who could see it and no one else, she would have been perfectly happy.

  “You’re dressed differently tonight too,” she said lightly. “Why the pain collar when you’ve never worn one before?”

  He frowned. “Your Lady-mother insisted. I think she wants to remind me that I’m a slave and nothing more.”

  “You’re much more…to me,” Brynn murmured and blushed. Then, trying to hide her embarrassment she went on quickly. “It’s seems like my Lady-mother dressed both of us tonight. I’m only wearing this awful dress because she commanded it.” She cleared her throat. “Because…because I’m supposed to meet…”

  “Your new suitor, Ysldred X’izith,” Varin growled and his eyes flashed.

  “Yes.” Brynn was relieved he already knew. “I don’t want to meet him,” she confessed to Varin in a small voice. “I don’t care how handsome he is or how rich his planet is, I don’t want anything to do with him. With any male.”

  She almost added “except you” but at the last minute she stopped herself. These were improper feelings she was having for Varin and though he warded and protected her and talked to her every night as a friend, he had never expressed improper feelings towards her. It would only make things awkward between them if she admitted to the way she felt about him.

  He sighed. “I don’t want you to meet him either, Princess. But it doesn’t seem like you have a choice.”

  “If they marry me off to him and I have to go away, you’ll come with me, won’t you?” Brynn looked up at him, needing reassurance…needing to know he would never leave her side.

  “I swear it,” he growled. “I am yours, Mistress, for all the days of my life. I don’t care where you go—I’ll follow.”

  “Thank you, Varin.” Brynn stepped closer to him. “I…I want to hug you but with all this bare skin…” She gestured at the two of them—Varin was shirtless and she almost was. “Your obedience band will give you a horrible jolt.”

  “Don’t care about that,” he growled. “If you need a hug, come get one, little one.”

  “I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you.” But Brynn took a step closer anyway. She wanted so badly just to step into his embrace and press her cheek against his warm, scratchy chest, to breathe in his wild, spicy scent…

  Suddenly there was a clatter outside the door and she heard a guard announcing, “Make way for her royal highness, Queen Isolde of Galen!”

  Brynn quickly jumped away from the big Kindred, her heart pounding in apprehension. Goddess above, what if her mother saw…what if she guessed…

  The door banged open and the guard bowed her mother into the room.

  Brynn made a curtsy and beside her, she saw Varin bowing low, a stony look on his strong features.

  “Now then, Brynnalla—there you are!” the Queen exclaimed. She was wearing a high-necked gown in a bright shade of purple and she frowned when she saw Varin standing there as well, but didn’t seem to think his presence was worth remarking on.

  “Yes, my Lady-mother.” Brynn rose from her curtsey. “Did you want to see me before the ball?”

  “Yes, I certainly did. First of all I wanted to be certain that you’re wearing the gown I sent and you’re properly arrayed.” She frowned at Brynn. “I see you’ve got the gown on, at least.”

  “I do but please, my Lady-mother, it’s, um, too small,” Brynn gestured helplessly at the tiny bit of fabric clinging to her breasts. “Can’t I wear something with more…more coverage?”

  “Most certainly not—I had it made that way on purpose,” the Queen snapped. “You must catch the eye of your new suitor, Sovereign X’izith. You have few enough assets to work with as it is…” She frowned over her own extra large bosom at Brynn’s small, round breasts. “We have to make the most of what little you have.”

  “But—”

  “And your hair still isn’t done!” her mother exclaimed. “Why isn’t it up?”

  Brynn lifted her chin. “I decided to wear it down.”

  “That’s not acceptable! You look ridiculous.”

  “No, I look different from the other ladies—that’s all.” Brynn didn’t know where she got the courage to speak up so to her mother but somehow the words just came out. “And I thought you said you wanted me to be eye-catching.”

  Her Lady-mother seemed about to protest but then she shook her head and threw up her hands.

  “Fine. Do as you please. But listen, Brynnalla…” She leaned forward and the heavy scent of her expensive perfume made Brynn’s nose itch and her eyes water. “I want you to concentrate all your attention on Sovereign X’izith tonight. We believe it would be a very advantageous match for the royal family and for Galen as a whole so keep his interest at all costs.”

  Brynn wasn’t sure what to say to that but she felt Varin’s presence at her back. He shifted restlessly, as though he wasn’t very happy with what he was hearing.

  “I…I’ll try, mother,” she said at last. “I have had little experience of catching the interest of any male, as you know.”

  “Yes, yes, that damn convent,” the Queen muttered, frowning. “You came back from there looking as plain as untoasted bata bread.” She sighed. “I probably should have had you raised in a pleasure house instead but all the fashionable families were using the Sisters of Chastity when you were born and I was just so
tired of bothering with you. Children are so troublesome!”

  “I am sorry you think me a bother,” Brynn said stiffly. “I’ll try to do what I can to…to gain the Sovereign’s interest, though I do not know what that may be.”

  “Oh, do I really have to spell it out for you?” The Queen gave an irritated shake of her head. “Such a shame about Amalthia—she could have told you what to do. No matter though…” She sighed. “What I’m trying to say, Brynnalla, is if the Sovereign wants to take a few liberties, you should let him.”

  “Wants to take liberties?” Brynn couldn’t help feeling shocked. Behind her, she could hear a low, angry growl rising from Varin’s deep chest but apparently her Lady-mother was oblivious to the soft, rumbling sound.

  “Yes, yes,” she exclaimed impatiently. “Why do you think I put you in that dress? Males love breasts. When you dance with him, press against him—drop your fan and bend low to get it so he can see what he’s missing. Oh, and if he wants to touch you, just be certain you have a little privacy so not everyone can see.”

  “Mother, I can’t do all that!” Brynn blurted out. “It’s the exact opposite of everything I’ve been taught my entire life by the Sisters of Chastity! I can’t just let some strange male fondle me!”

  “You can and you will—your father and I need this alliance,” the Queen snapped. “The Sovereign is said to be extremely wealthy and your bride price would pay for a whole new bathing wing on the palace.” She made a face. “The old one is simply dreadful.”

  She wants to sell me, Brynn thought despairingly. No—she wants me to sell myself. So she can get rid of me and get something she’d rather have—like a new bathtub.

  “Mother, I—”

  “I have no more time for you.” The Queen pointed one elegantly gloved finger at her. “Do as you’re told tonight. And you…” She pointed at Varin, who had a dark look on his face. “Don’t interfere! Stay back and let the Princess charm her suitor.” She sighed. “If she’s capable of charming anyone, that is. Now get to the ball at once!”

  Shaking her head, she swept from the room again, followed by her retinue of guards and leaving Brynn behind, feeling shaken and small and cheap.

  * * * * *

  A low, inarticulate growl burst from Varin’s lips the moment the Queen and her retinue were gone. He had known the King and Queen didn’t value their daughter as they should but this was going too far! Telling Brynn she must offer herself on a platter for some strange male to grope, all for a little gold—it sickened him! And from the look on Brynn’s delicate features, she was feeling more than a little sick and upset herself.

  She was standing there, staring after her mother, her big gray eyes filled with unshed tears.

  Varin felt his heart twist. She was so sensitive—so innocent. She’d led such a sheltered existence up until now, at a convent where they believed any kind of sexual activity was a sin. And now, here was her own mother, telling her to play the part of the trollop to lure a rich male into marriage.

  “Hey, little one,” he said gently, ducking his head to look into her eyes. “You all right?”

  “I…guess so.” She straightened up and gave a broken little laugh. “I mean, I have to be, right? There’s no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice,” Varin growled. “You don’t have to sell yourself like some cheap pleasure girl just because your mother ordered you to. You’re better than that—you’re worth so much more.”

  “Apparently I’m worth the price of a new bathing room.” Brynn lifted her chin and dashed the tears from her eyes. “Come on, we’re going to be late to the ball.”

  “Brynn—no.” Varin stood in front of her, blocking her path.

  “Please let me pass,” she said softly, looking up at him. “I have to go to the ball—there’s no choice, you know that.”

  “I also know if this X’izith bastard lays a hand on you I’ll rip his fucking guts out,” Varin growled. He couldn’t help himself—the idea of Brynn letting another male do what her mother had suggested made him half crazy with possessive rage.

  She’s mine, damn it! MINE! a voice inside him snarled and Varin agreed with it wholeheartedly.

  “Varin, you can’t—I don’t want you to get into trouble,” she protested.

  “Fuck that,” he snarled. “I don’t give a Goddess damn what they do to me. It’s your wellbeing I’m concerned with, Princess.”

  “Then you’ll restrain yourself,” Brynn snapped. “And leave the new suitor alone.”

  Varin looked at her in surprise. Did she want to follow her mother’s orders? Or was she just being obedient, as she had been taught to be all those years at the convent?

  “Mistress?” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t understand. Do you not want me to protect you from this strange male’s advances?”

  “Of course I want you to!” Brynn burst out. “I am neither a glutton for punishment nor blindly obedient. But Varin, you can’t just attack him like he’s an opponent at the Arena. You…” She put up a hand as though to touch his cheek and then stopped before she made contact.

  “Yes, Princess?” He bridged the distance between them, pressing his cheek to her outstretched hand though it caused his obedience band to shoot painful jolts through him.

  “Varin,” she breathed his name again. “What I fear more than anything else is losing you. If you cause a scene, I’m afraid my parents might decide you’re more trouble than you’re worth. And if they take you away from me and you’re not allowed to accompany me when I leave Galen…” She left the words hanging in the air as she caressed his scratchy cheek delicately with her warm little hand.

  Her touch gave both pain and pleasure—Varin took both from her gladly. She was his Mistress but more than that—this small, slim girl he’d seen in his dreams for as long as he could remember was his heart.

  “My wellbeing is tied up in keeping you by my side,” she whispered. “Please, please don’t leave me.”

  “Never,” he swore. “I am yours until I die, Princess—you know that.”

  “Then we have to be careful,” Brynn murmured.

  “All right,” he said at last, blowing out a breath. “I’ll try not to interfere unless I think he’s actually hurting you or…”

  “Or taking liberties,” Brynn said. “I’ll be polite and dance with him and make conversation and laugh at his jokes if he tells any…” Her eyes flashed. “But I don’t care what my Lady-mother the Queen says, I am not prepared to let some strange male fondle me that she might have a nicer bathing room.” She sighed. “It’s going to be a delicate balance, Varin. Just try not to interfere unless it’s really and truly necessary.”

  “I will be watching,” he vowed, his hands clenched into fists.

  She was right—he couldn’t attack the new suitor just for daring to seek the Princess’s hand in joining. But he could and would step in if Sovereign X’izith got too fucking grabby. Still, he had to be calm—had to push back the red Rage that threatened to fall over his vision like a mantle of blood when he felt like Brynn might be threatened. She was right—it would do neither of them any good if he caused a scene the moment the bastard took her in his arms to dance.

  But damn it, Varin couldn’t shake the feeling that she was his, that no other male ought to be allowed within fifty standard feet of her! The deep feeling of possession—possibly related to his bond with her—made guarding her objectively difficult.

  Difficult but not impossible, he told himself firmly. Have to take it easy and play this right. He took a deep breath, mastering himself.

  “Come on, little one,” he growled. “We have to go or we’ll be late.”

  “All right.” She lifted her chin and there was a steely glint in her wide gray eyes—a determination to get through this unpleasant experience no matter what.

  There was strength buried under her delicate exterior, Varin thought. Strength that might surprise the King and Queen if they knew of it—if they would take the time to get to
know their own daughter—which he knew would never happen.

  “All right,” she said again. “I’m ready, Varin. Let’s get this over with.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You are most beautiful, Princess. I have seen much of your world but now I see that the most beautiful thing on it is you.”

  Sovereign Ysldred X’izith had a strange, stilted voice that seemed to hiss on every syllable. He moved strangely, too—stiffly, Brynn thought, almost as though his limbs were being constricted in some way. He was also extremely tall and thin—even taller than Varin, she estimated—though not nearly so broad through the shoulders.

  That wasn’t the oddest thing about him though—he had greenish brown hair and purple eyes that never seemed to be looking quite at her when he spoke. She told herself it was just because he was from another planet in a distant sector of the galaxy but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something wrong about him—though she couldn’t exactly put her finger on what it was.

  “Thank you, Sovereign X’izith,” she said hesitantly, stumbling a bit over the pronunciation of his odd name. “That is a…a lovely compliment.”

  “A lovely compliment for a lovely female,” he buzzed. “There appears to be a mating ritual going on in the center of the room. Shall we participate?”

  Brynn looked to where he was pointing with one long, skinny finger. His hands, when they brushed her skin, seemed abnormally hot—almost clammy—and all of his fingernails were caked with dirt. It was disgusting but she tried not to shudder.

  “Oh—you want to dance?” she asked, since he was pointing at the dance floor where couples were spinning and turning.

  “If that is what you call it.” He nodded his head in jerky time with the music. “This rhythm seems most agreeable.”

  Brynn could scarcely think of anything she would rather do less than let Sovereign X’izith hold her close to his tall, cadaverously thin body and touch her with his hot, dirty hands but she could see her parents glaring at her from across the room from the royal dais. There was no helping it—she would have to dance with him.