Minstrel's Serenade. Aubrie Dionne

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СКАЧАТЬ sniffed the heavy tang in the air. “We reek of wyvern blood.”

      Bron grinned. “Let the smell be a warning to all.”

      A low humming throbbed around them. She groaned. The names she would have called Bron if she’d been another man and not a princess were infinite, each one worse than the last. “Speak of the devil. Here they are now.”

      Bron pulled back on the reins, halting both horses. He grabbed the hilt of his claymore. “You think they’d have better things to do with their time. Pansy-ass finger plucking crooners…”

      The sound drowned out his voice as the drone swelled into a multi-chordal ostinato. The song wove gentle fingers around Danika’s mind, reaching to her innermost emotions, soothing her into a state of fabricated bliss. “No.”

      She turned to Bron for strength, but he fought against the tones as well, the muscles in his hand weakening, turning limp. No wonder these men quelled the wyverns’ attacks. “Bron, never mind the sword. Whip the reins.”

      “Too late now.” His voice grew soft and velvety, something she’d never heard before and enjoyed far too much.

      Danika tore through the carriage door and jumped onto the mossy road as the horses collapsed on their bellies. She knelt beside them, massaging their legs, urging them to stand. Black eyes lolled in their heads. The song swelled in her ears, and she put her hands up to her ears to block the sound.

      A hooded shadow emerged from the mossy wisps, flanked by four others on either side. As the man stepped into the light, silver eyes caught her attention. A hand-painted lute lay strapped across his lean chest. Filigree patterns swirled around the strings much like the fire wyverns in the sky.

      Bron jumped from the carriage and flexed his right arm to grab his sword. The music turned dissonant, tones pushing against themselves to delve deep inside her heart and make her ache for something unreachable. Bron fought against it, scrambling for the hilt. The dissonance rose and then resolved like a flower opening its petals, and he stumbled, falling to his knees.

      The leader flicked back his hood with long, thin fingers. Swirly, deer-brown hair cascaded around his ears. He stepped up to Bron and his voice flowed like warm honey. “What brings you here?”

      Bron grumbled and Danika spoke up before her bodyguard muttered something that would get them both in trouble. “We seek an alternate route. Wyverns swarm above the road to my castle.”

      “Your castle?” The minstrel raised a hand and the men singing behind him softened to a low hum. Danika gave Bron a stern look and he bowed his head, allowing her to take the lead.

      She rose, dusting off her hands. “Yes. I am Princess Danika Rubystone, daughter of the late King Artemus Rubystone, chosen ruler of the people of Ebonvale.”

      The minstrel blinked and took in a sharp breath before bowing low. “Princess Danika, my apologies. Why haven’t you answered any of my letters?”

      Bron gave her a questioning furrow of eyebrows, and Danika almost swallowed her tongue. “You’re Valorian, Prince of the House of Song?”

      He lifted his head, wavy hair falling back to reveal sleek cheekbones. The sharp edges on his nose and chin could have cut through silk. “I am.”

      Burrow’s Bucket! Her skin heated. Maybe if she’d known how handsome he was, she would have written a reply.

      “Come, let us take you to the House of Song. Night approaches, and the fire wyverns will no doubt rule the sky until dawn.” Every word he spoke resonated like a lyrical poem.

      Bron rose to his feet. He stood a head taller than the minstrels, looking like an ogre amongst fairies. “That’s not necessary. I’m capable of transporting the princess home safely.”

      “Bron, wait.” Danika had snubbed the minstrels for too long, bent on deferring their offers to unite kingdoms. She’d learned stubbornness and independence from her father, but dire times called for unexpected measures. These song spinners might prove a useful ally. High time to take them up on at least one offer. Her heart tore to disappoint Bron, but she had a kingdom to think about and a hungry little boy in the backseat.

      “I don’t question your abilities, Bron, but Valorian and I have some catching up to do.” She bowed to Valorian. “If you’d be so kind as to awaken my horses?”

      He smiled as if deeply pleased. “Certainly.”

      Valorian waved his hand and the pulse of music quickened into a jig. The men behind him strummed their lutes in undulating rhythms. The horses rose and Danika slipped into her carriage. Bron cursed under his breath. Would he disobey? Her heart hung in between beats until the carriage rocked as he climbed aboard.

      Moments later, the horses whinnied and the carriage tugged forward into the burgeoning night. What had she gotten herself into?

      “Are we there?” The boy rubbed his eyes, righting himself on the velvety seat.

      “We’ve taken a detour.” He’d probably squiggle away if she wrapped her arms around him. She couldn’t imagine who he’d lost in the attack and she knew not to ask.

      He gazed out the carriage window and his eyes widened. “Where are we going?”

      “To the House of Song.” She smiled, trying to get his mind off the horrors of the day. “You’re one lucky little boy. Not everyone from Ebonvale gets to see the House of Song.” Although she didn’t mention it, luck had favored him more than once. He’d survived the fire wyverns’ wrath. Was it because of the breastplate? Danika pursed her lips. Pushing him so soon after the tragedy was cruel. She’d let him be a boy again before bombarding him with questions.

      He shrugged and remained silent. Like any boy, he was hard to impress.

      “I’m Danika.” She extended her hand.

      “I know.” The boy stared at her ivory skin and flaxen hair, traits her mother had brought to their kingdom from the south. He didn’t move. “I’ve seen you in the parades.”

      “And you are?”

      He murmured the name, “Nip.”

      “Nip?” She’d try not to judge. “What an interesting name for a boy.” It sounded as if he’d pinch her arms when she looked away.

      Nip sniffed. “Ma named me after the cold--she had me in a blizzard.”

      His mother. Probably dead.

      Her eyes stung with unleashed tears. Maybe if she’d attacked the wyverns after her father passed away, the boy’s village would still be standing, and he’d be cooking with his Ma right now. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

      He nodded but made no further comments. Endless hurt shone in his brown eyes, as if he hid within himself. Even a princess’ offerings couldn’t help. She couldn’t reach out and make the horrors go away. Nothing would bring back what he’d lost.

      She’d make those worms pay, even if gleaning revenge meant allying with the House of Song.

      Danika squeezed her palms until her muscles ached. She would find a way to rid their СКАЧАТЬ