Page 109 of Rook of Ruin
Out of our bedroom and through the long hall, I pause at the top of our dark wooden staircase, warriors with both silver-lined and plain black leathers are at attention. A large man, bigger than Simon and dressed in plain black leathers, speaks with Isle.
I begin to descend the stairs, and Isle snaps to attention, yelling out, “Her Royal Highness Princess Orlaith Caddel.”
The man’s light brown eyes meet mine, surprise crossing his face, then a genuine smile. Unlike Simon, who has salt-and-pepper, loose curly hair, this man has black hair pulled back into warrior braids. He is handsome—with high cheekbones, long lashes, and a large mouth—but his face lacks the charm, and the dimples, Simon’s has. He wears a crown of solid gold and onyx,and when he looks me up and down, it’s in a way that makes me uncomfortable. Without a doubt, he considers me a challenge, something to be figured out.
He bows deeply. “Your Highness.”
I hold out my hand, unsure of what else to do, and he takes it, kissing it gently.
Simon walks through the door, followed by a footman with a tray of three small glasses of whiskey, and he frowns. “This is my brother, Callan.”
The footman hands a glass to the three of us.
I smile but watch Simon out of the corner of my eye. Then I take a sip of the whiskey, feeling it burn all the way down to my belly. “I am happy to meet you. I apologize for the lack of—”
Callan waves his hand dismissively like Simon often does and downs his whiskey, setting it back onto the tray. “We are family now. No need for formalities.”
I smile at his words, quite excited to get to know my new family.
Callan raises his eyebrow. “I’m surprised you are in fighting leathers. Most female royalty would be wearing a gown.” It isn’t a slight, just an observation.
Dove clears her throat. “Excuse me, Ruin.” Simon takes my whiskey glass and sets it onto the footman’s tray. Carefully, Dove sheaths my deadly black shortsword and my daggers. It couldn’t have been more perfect timing.
Callan’s eyes dance with interest. “Ruin?”
“It’s her Warrior’s Name. Given to her by her guard.” Simon’s eyes flash with something that has me on edge. He drinks his whiskey, not bothering to savor it before slamming it onto the tray. His face scrunches for a moment, as if it didn’t go down well.
“You have a Warrior’s Name and a guard? Interesting indeed. I believe our father will thoroughly enjoy your company, just asI will.” Callan smiles and walks out the door, warriors in black greeting him.
Simon hesitates. “You’ll be expected to wear gowns when we are at the castle.”
“I—I do know the expectations.” I bite back the words I want to say, feeling the disapproval radiating off him. He pulls me down the hallway and into a room.
“I do not want Callan to think for one moment you are a threat to his crown nor his mother’s. Do you understand?” Simon scrutinizes me. “We do not have the best of relationships, and the good parts are fragile, to say the least.”
“Yes, of course. I understand.” I glance down, unsure of how I could possibly be a threat, “I did not realize wearing leathers would be considered . . . aggressive.” I use Taen’s word.
“Just be aware of yourself. You are beautiful. You are a Rook and a warrior princess. My father will see you are strong and that you love Bethal with a fierceness needed to keep it secure. My stepmother may not view you the same. She is easily slighted and will believe you are a threat. We are leaving Milo here with Paul and Red because of her, and I’m leaving some of our warriors back to ensure his safety. This isn’t what I want or anticipated, but you must listen to me when I say that I will be doing everything I can to get us back here.”
I open my mouth and quickly shut it after seeing the look on his face. I realize this isn’t up for discussion or debate; there is something going on, and he wants to protect us. Simon offers his arm, and I take it, walking outside to see Milo, who greets us with chocolate plastered all over his face. I laugh, kissing his forehead but never telling him goodbye. I nod to Paul, who is leaning against his crutch, and he does the same. He can feel the tension. Just by his posture, I can tell he knows something I don’t, yet he is unable to warn me.
My brother-in-law opens a carriage door for me, but Dove hands me Salann’s reins.
I mount Sal.
Callan grins and snorts out a laugh, closing the door and mounting his large steed. “You are unexpected.”
I give him a demure smile. “I am only what I am, nothing more or less.”
“I am sure you are more than what you appear. Many of us are.” His voice is not condescending, rather, he is amused. Artho and Simon appear next to me, and Callan laughs out. “Simon, I was just telling your wife that she is unexpected. What do they call her in Acros? Orlaith? Or would she rather go by Ruin?”
“Sheisunexpected. Warriors call her Ruin, I call her O. You may call her what she wishes.” Simon’s voice is clipped.
Don’t speak about me as if I’m not right fucking here, is what I want to growl out; instead, I am considerate with my words. “We are family. You may also call me O.” Though I feel uncomfortable saying it.
“O.” Callan’s perfect white teeth gleam as he passes us. He inclines his head to Milo, who holds his little fist to his heart as we begin to move.
Dove and Isle flank me on either side as we leave our home. The tension radiating off them does not go unnoticed.
