Page 6 of Burn Bright
"My apologies." I bobbed a quick curtsy, grabbing Averill by the hand. "We're just a pair of wood-cutter's daughters who know nodifferent."
The newcomer loomed over both of us, wearing a polished steel breastplate, and a red cloak rimmed with wolf’s fur. His thick brows and moustache were black, and his head shaved. He reminded me of the mercenaries who rode out of Marietta; or his eyes did, at least. There was a coldness there that made meswallow.
The man spat. "Ignorant, backwater savages." He stepped closer, one hand resting on his belt. "Perhaps one of you ought to take me round back and apologize properly. If you do a good job, then I might not tell the prince what you were saying abouthim."
My mouth dropped open. Did hejust—?
Hedid.
"Now see here," I said sharply, putting both hands on my hips. I still had my knife behind my belt, and there was another one in my boot. "My sister and I shouldn’t have been speaking that way, but you cannot just… expect to blackmail either of us like that. Who do you think youare?"
"Royal Huntmaster," he said, and looked me up and down. "You think you’re some sort of boy, eh? Running around in trousers allday…."
"I was hunting," I ground out. "I can hardly wear agown."
He stepped toward me, grinning an evil smile. "All the betterto—"
A hand grabbed him and wrenched him away from me, a stranger melting out of the shadows. "Hussar, that’senough."
The newcomer wore the scarlet cloak of the royal guard, though the hunting leathers beneath them were different to the polished breastplates the other guards wore. There was a golden laurel of thorns embossed on his right breast; a sign he belonged to the prince. His voice was a shock of roughness, something that made me shiver to hearit.
Predator, that voice said. I'd heard the same velvety growl come from a wolf's throatonce.
"Get your bleedin’ hand off me, Hound," Hussargrowled.
The stranger had interspersed his body between us. He was almost as tall as Hussar, with dark hair that had been cut roughly, and some sort of… gold chain around his throat. "Or you'llwhat?"
They stared at each for longmoments.
"We're not here to cause trouble," the newcomer rasped. "And the prince will keep a tighter leash upon you than the kingallows."
Hussar spat to the side, and cut me and Averill a filthy glare. "The sluts aren't worth itanyway."
With that he was gone, and I realized I was trembling alittle.
In rage,perhaps.
But a little bit of that tremor belonged to fear. Here in Densby, the only time I ever worried for my safety was when the mercenaries rode through. A clever girl made sure she was accompanied at all times, or had something sharp in her hand when they were in thevillage.
I hated thatfeeling.
"Thank you," Averillsaid.
The stranger turned in a flash. I stared into a shocking pair of amber eyes, the color sharply conflicting with the olive skin that surroundedthem.
Both of usgasped.
He wasn'thuman.
"You're wolvren," Iblurted.
"Clearly you have eyes," he snapped. "And for a pair of ignorant village lasses, you’ve certainly got a keen ear for courtgossip."
One of my father’s trader friends kept us abreast of the goings-on of the kingdom. I’m sure the prince’s scandals were the last thing my father was interested in, but my sisters and I were far more interested in that than the latest warnews.
I bristled. "I wasn’t aware it was a crime to mention hisHighness."
Averill grabbed my hand and squeezed it, but the way the stranger was glaring atme…
