Redemption by M J Marlow (librera reader .txt) 📕

nights ago,” the innkeeper nodded as he shoved his girl back to the kitchen to see to the dinner. “The prince is a very well-mannered boy,” the man continued, “but his father…” He could see the muscles in Taryn’s jaw clench. “There is still bad blood between Stormkeep and Northfell?”
“It is not likely to stop any time soon,” Taryn frowned. “My liege and brother-in-law may believe this alliance is good for the borderlands, but we most definitely do not.”
“Nor was ours the only dissenting voice in Council,” Tavin said as he joined his father and sat down. “We may have more trouble on the road, Father.”
“She will be safe once we reach the castle,” Taryn replied, hiding his uneasiness as he sliced off a piece of cheese and slid it into his mouth off the edge of the knife. Once the innkeeper was gone, he leaned towards his son. “If we needed any further proof of the rightness of our actions, this was it.” He lowered his voice as he laid his hand on his son’s arm. “You shall prepare her.”
“Her father will not agree with this choice, Father,” Tavin frowned. He leaned against the table and picked up a piece of meat. “She is his heir; the hope for our future peace, and he has chosen Northfell as her mate.”
“She is also a daughter of our house,” Taryn stated. “She should be given all that a daughter of our blood should possess.” He sighed. “She will certainly be judged by those bastards in Northfell, whether she possesses it or not.”
“Your sister, Margarete, refused the gift, Father.” Tavin remembered the heated argument that had ensued, and the imprisonment that had been imposed on his aunt as a result. “She now lies imprisoned rather than take on her birthright.”
“Margarete was too weak to see what she was being offered,” Taryn replied. “She was content with what she had with her lord husband. Her twin was far more accepting. But then,” he smiled as he remembered his other sister, “Amabet was always the greedy one.” He thought over their choice. “The princess must have the strength and power found only in a full bonding to the house; whether she wishes it or not.” He sighed. “If we were not traveling with his nephew and ladies of the court, we could take her now.” He finished his meal and held the bowl out to one of the servants. “Send one of the men ahead to inform our liege that his daughter will be with him tomorrow.”
Tavin nodded and moved out into the yard. Taryn smiled as the door closed. His son was quite eager to proceed with their plan. He could feel the mounting attraction his heir was feeling for the pretty Marit. It was only right. If Marit had been allowed to foster with her mother’s family, his house would have insisted on a match between the girl and her cousin; in accordance with their custom. Marius might think he had circumvented tradition by hiding the girl, but he had only delayed the inevitable.
Marit was a few hours later and sat up to look around the unfamiliar room. The ladies had been given cots nearby and they were all sleeping. She went to the windows and opened them, enjoying the feel of the night air on her face. As she sat there, wondering what she had ever done to deserve being shot at, she saw someone moving below in the courtyard. Moonlight glistened off of bare skin as he moved and Marit knew she should stop watching. But the sight of the man’s well-toned body as he washed held her entranced. When he turned his head and looked up, Marit cried out softly as, for just a moment, she saw a wolf in his place. She could hear Tavin’s soft laughter as she drew away from the window and went back to bed, struggling not to remember the look she had seen in his eyes. He wanted something from her; something she had an uneasy feeling she had no wish to give him.
“I wouldn’t put too much meaning into his looks, Princess,” the lady Sysha said as she closed the windows and looked at Marit. “Men of Stormkeep are very – intense. He would look at any maid in that same fashion, just to see if he could get a rise from her.”
“He knew I was there?” Marit asked as she looked at the woman with a frown.
“The whole time,” Sysha nodded. “Now, Princess,” she said as she helped Marit lie down, “it’s late and you should be resting. Put that one out of your mind. He is not for you.”
Marit nodded and closed her eyes, trying to ease her mind. A moment later, she was asleep. She did not see Susa slip out of the room for a breath of air. Susa was standing in the doorway of the room when she saw Rafel slip out of his room and go downstairs. She knew it was probably unwise to follow him, but something in his look told her there was trouble. As much as she was attracted to the man, she cared deeply for her friend. And she would not let anyone hurt Marit.
“He accepts your offer, prince,” a tall, bald-headed man with a scar on his face was saying as Susa slipped close enough to hear conversation. “Give your pretty cousin to my employer, and he will assure that you sit her throne.”
“It is time there was an end to this pointless war,” Rafel nodded, the look on his pleasant face turning Susa’s blood cold. “If Marit can accomplish what decades of diplomacy and conflict have failed to do simply through the bedchamber, then I am glad I allowed her to live.”
“You are very harsh, prince,” the man frowned at the younger noble. “She is your cousin…”
“She is her father’s heir, lord Talbot,” Rafel broke in harshly. “The child is in my way. I will do whatever it takes – even murder her – to inherit the throne that should be mine by right.”
The venom in his voice was so unlike the gentleness Susa was used to that she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out in anguish. She had believed this man was good, but here he was plotting against Marit. Susa could not let him harm her friend, so she decided to do what she could to keep close to the man. She would find out what he was planning and warn Marit. If she had to, she would take the man down herself. She slipped away from the two men and hurried back up towards her room.

*
Morning came and the lady Naji gave Marit a long emerald wool gown and silver leather over gown to wear. The leather had been softened and designs punched into it at the collar and down the front to the hem in varying colored leathers. Soft leather boots that covered her legs to just under the knee were put on Marit’s feet. She wondered how they had known what size to bring as they combed out her hair and braided the front with emerald green cords to form a coronet at the top of her head. The last pieces were laced leather bracers at her wrists embellished with designs matching those on her over gown.
“We will be arriving at the castle later this day, Princess,” Sysha told her, “and you will be presented to your father.”
Marit felt a shiver of anticipation course through her. This was the man who had sent her into hiding to keep her safe. What was he like? Would she find him as noble as the lord Taryn? No one had mentioned her mother, Marit found herself thinking as she left the inn with her companions. Was she still alive? Her mind was filled with questions as Tavin met her in the yard, his hands on the reins of a chestnut mare. Marit’s eyes widened in delight as she approached the beautiful creature and it lowered its head to her. She stroked the animal’s nose as Tavin watched her indulgently. His cousin reminded him of his younger sister, Tessa, at that moment.
“Princess,” he bowed his head to her. “A gift from your sire. Her name is Skydancer.” He handed the reins to one of the other men and helped her into the saddle. His hands remained on her a moment longer than was exactly proper and Marit bit her lip as she felt a blush color her face. Tavin smiled at her warmly and she was mortified. He was doing this to her on purpose! Then he mounted his own stallion and moved next to her. “I shall be close, if you need assistance, Princess.”
Marit nodded, missing the expression in her cousin’s eyes. She saw that everyone in the party, except Susa, was now mounted. She was riding in the cart with the driver, her eyes dancing in joy as she laid a hand on the man’s arm. She was chattering away, as always; and the man had a slightly stunned expression on his face. Marit was used to seeing that look on the face of most of the people Susa spoke to, so she missed the steel in Susa’s eyes. Marit smiled and turned to see the party moving off. They rode through the forest without any further incident and came out onto a hillside several hours later overlooking a town of tents along a river. On the other side was a large castle fortress.
“The Borderlanders Fair,” lord Taryn told her as he came up beside Marit. “It is held every year at this season under the protection of your sire, king Marius.” He saw her look of outright shock. She had still held out some hope that they were confused at her identity, he realized. “This is where marriages are arranged, alliances are formed and renewed, and other borderlander business is conducted.”
Marit nodded and found Sysha bringing her a sheer green veil and a circlet of gold set with a medallion of a strange bird set out in red stones surrounded by white stones in the center front. Taryn placed the veil and circlet and found himself fighting a smile as she fingered the silk with childish delight. The party moved down the hillside and past the tents to a bridge over the river. The occupants of the tents came to stand along the roadway as they passed, their heads bowed in respect. It made Marit feel very uncomfortable to have so many people treating her with deference.
“They will speak of their first sight of you for years to come, Princess,” Sysha said as she rode up beside Marit. “You should smile at them and let them know you are not annoyed at their presence.”
“They would actually think this?” Marit asked the woman, shocked that her emotions could be so important to others now. She turned her head and smiled at the people as they rode along. The outright joy on their faces lightened her own mood and her smile widened and warmed.
“You will grow used to the reality of your new status, Princess,” the lady Naji said from just behind her. “As your ladies, Sysha, Celia, and I will do our best to guide you.”
“I hope I don’t give you too much trouble,” Marit sighed. “I am not used to such a life as this.”
Marit listened to the assurances of her new friends that she could never be trouble and nodded absently. They crossed the bridge and approached the fortress of Sylvan Ford through the center of two lines of armed men at attention. Inside the castle yard, the nobles of the borderlands bowed or curtsied as a tall man with thick deep brown waves