The royal family was immortal, but they could be killed. It took beheading to do the job, but it was a real possibility if they were caught with the effects of the Wandering Nightmares lingering upon them. They would be helpless to fight back.
It was this tidbit of information which Edward overheard as he was slipping from the hall to prepare for Isabella’s return to her rooms. He went pale and shaky as he contemplated the idea of her being stricken with whatever those creatures could inflict. He remained in the passageway between the royal chambers and the dining hall, hoping to catch her.
By the time she came toward him down the hall, a headache had brewed between his eyes. “Isabella, might I speak with you?”
She glanced at him but kept walking. “Of course. Out of hearing distance of anyone else though.”
He followed her silently, stepping into her receiving room and closing the door behind them. He looked around to ensure there weren’t any attendants in her other rooms and crossed to the opposite side to close that door.
Isabella waited in the center of the room, her heart beating quick as a rabbit’s and her breathing accelerated.
“Your highness, I’ve overheard some of the discussions of the Wandering Nightmares.”
Her right brow winged up. That was not what she’d expected him to say. “What of them?”
He paced away from her, sighing and scrubbing his hand through his hair. When he turned back, she was surprised by the vehemence she saw in his eyes. “Please, I beg of you. Don’t go.”
She felt her forehead wrinkle as both brows rose in shock. “What are you doing? You have no right—”
“No, I know I don’t, but it means nothing. I have to let you know how dangerous I feel it is for you. I can’t keep silent while you risk your life.”
“Edward, it isn’t up to you what I do.” Her voice had gone hard and cold, but what choice did she have? He violated every known law to bring his concerns to her now. She’d deal with the emotional consequences later.
He faced the fireplace, wishing for a moment he’d laid a fire. Anything to chase away the chill in his bones. “Believe me, I’m well aware I could be executed simply for having this discussion with you, your highness.”
Her throat nearly closed at the mere thought. “I would never allow that to happen.”
“Well, it isn't up to you, now is it?”
Isabella was taken aback by the fury in his tone. “Please, don’t be angry.”
Edward spun on her. “You’ve never been in a battle of this magnitude. You’ve never faced those monstrous creatures.”
She rested a hand on his shoulder; it was a bold and dangerous act. “Rosalie found a spell to help us. Think of it as a cloak of protection.”
“So everything will be fine because of this spell?” he snarled.
“I understand your worry, but you should not. We train; you’ve seen it. Ease your mind.” She flexed the hand which rested on his shoulder, then dropped it. “I require rest before supper. We’ll leave shortly afterward.”
He’d been dismissed, and there was nothing he could do about it. He’d broken laws to speak with her so candidly, but he couldn't remain silent. He sought his brother, finding him outside Archwarrior Katrina’s chambers.
“I would speak with you.”
Garrett followed Edward down the hall to the senior attendants’ quarters. “What is the matter?”
“Do you know they’re going through the Winter Forest?”
Garrett frowned. “Aye, I’ve heard.”
“And nothing about that bothers you?”
“Edward, even if it does, what am I supposed to do about it?” He glanced behind him at the closed door. “I have to keep my mouth shut.”
“You and I both know they’re headed straight for danger. I had to say something to the princess, so at least she knows how I feel before she leaves.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Garrett hissed.
“No, but I know I have to drop it now.” The door opened, and Mikael and Demetri came in.
Edward risked a glance at them, but they weren’t paying them any attention.
Garrett leaned forward to whisper in his brother’s ear. “Aye, you need to drop it. Please, for me, stop pushing the boundaries.”
“You know how hard it is, Garrett. I love her.”
“Shut up!” Garrett almost shouted.
Mikael looked in their direction, and they stopped talking.
“Boys,” he said as he approached. He looked Edward up and down. “I plan on winning Isabella, Edward. I suppose that means you’ll be my attendant soon.”
Edward rolled his eyes. “And how do you plan on making that happen?”
“Oh, I have a plan, don’t you worry.”
He continued past them and back out the door, and Garrett sighed once Mikael was out of earshot. “Well, you’re not as stupid as he is, so I suppose you’ll be fine.”
“Let’s hope.”
Garrett went back to his duties within Katrina’s chambers, and Edward went on to the kitchens. He spoke to the chef, Charles, and several of the younger attendants. The boys arrived from Stagbreak and Stormcoast as young as ten to learn the ins and outs of caring for the inhabitants of Sandhorne Stronghold. They cooked and cleaned, mostly, in addition to fetching this or that. Not until they were fifteen were they expected to work as a personal attendant. It was a privilege to be chosen and assigned to a warrior rather than only being a do-boy. Edward had been assigned to Isabella from the age of fifteen, so he’d had five years to learn her personal tastes and track her movements. Five years to fall so deeply in love with her he felt it as a physical ache.
“Peder.” He gained the attention of one of the boys who was almost old enough to move up the ranks.
“Edward.” He was stirring a pot over the cooking fire, but he raised his flushed face to focus on Edward.
“Has Isabella risen from her nap?”
“No, her door remains closed. I heard her say at midday she would rest until supper.”
Edward patted Peder’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
He did indeed use a network of spies, as Isabella had accused him. He used the other attendants to inform him of Isabella’s moves, needs, and desires. They eavesdropped discreetly and reported back whatever they heard. It kept him well informed and aided in his ability to meet the needs of his princess.
He went to the hall for supper preparations, but there was a knot in his gut. He knew the dangers to come were exactly what they all trained for, but it didn't make it easier to accept that Isabella would soon be putting her life on the line. Whatever the special powers of the sword might be, there was always the possibility of death.
He saw to a few things in the dining hall and went back to wait for Isabella to wake. He sat outside the door meant for the attendants until he heard noises from within, knocking softly and entering at her request.
“Are you in need of any assistance before the meal, princess?”
She stood in the center of the room with her back to him. “No, thank you.”
He left, but he waited just outside the back door until he heard her leave through the front door. He hurried through the passageway to the dining hall and spotted her just as she sat with her family.
It was one of the times the attendants were expected to relax. Once the food was passed around the tables, everyone sat and ate. No chores were thought of, nobody jumped up when they remembered there were clothes on the line. Nothing had to be worried over during mealtimes.
Unfortunately, Edward couldn't relax; he was worried. He didn't think he could eat a bite while he stressed over Isabella’s welfare. He tended to get up before she was completely finished eating so he could wait for her in her rooms, and that night was no exception.
“Isabella, a word?” he asked as they walked down the hallway.
“No more, Edward. You’re walking a fine line.”
She hurried off, and he fell back, defeated. He wanted her to know how he felt, that was all. He needed her to know his true feelings before she left.
His thoughts centered around telling her he loved her and nothing else, so when he walked in through the rear door after knocking and saw her, he came to an abrupt stop. Isabella stood to the side of her bed, out of view of either door, with nothing covering her upper half. She held a shirt in her hand, and she’d already donned her pants . . . but nothing else.
His breath caught as he stared deep into her brandy-colored eyes. On any given day, he could spend hours getting lost in their depths. She made no sound, no move to cover herself. In fact, as he watched, she lowered her hands and dropped the clothing she held.
Isabella stood before him a proud woman, a princess, a warrior, and unashamed. The column of her throat was delicate, the bluish veins beneath her ivory skin making an intricate pattern, and her chest rose and fell in rapid succession. Her hair was not yet braided for battle, but hung in a thick waterfall down her back.
Edward swallowed the saliva that pooled in his mouth.
There was a pounding on her main door, and she darted a panicked glance in that direction before jerking her shirt over her head. By the time the garment covered her body, Edward was gone.
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