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

found herself unable to look away from his glowing eyes. Should she be feeling such things about her own cousin? Tavin saw her blush and he tied the shirt closed, hiding his smile; his goal had been achieved. He stepped into the kitchen and noted her guards for the first time. He nodded to them and took a seat on the other side of the table from Marit. He nodded to the servant as the boy handed him a plate of food.
“We are keeping the boy from his slumber,” Marit frowned.
“He is used to wandering nobles,” Tavin said, shrugging. “No, boy,” he said to the boy as he started to pour out a second cup of juice. “I can share with my cousin. Return to your well-earned rest.” He waited until the boy was down and then turned to Marit. “Someone tried to kill you tonight, cousin.” He shifted the fingers on his right hand as he kept it hidden from her eyes. “You must be protected from such occurrences.” His left hand came up to her cheek. “You have it in you to fight, little one. There is power in our bloodline that can help you.”
“I don’t understand,” Marit whimpered as he moved closer to her. “Why does it matter so much to you that I am safe?”
“How could it not, Marit?” Tavin asked as his fingers stroked her lips. Marit whimpered as she felt strange sensations coursing through her mind and body at his touch. “Has no one ever told you how desirable you are?”
“You’re playing games with me, cousin,” Marit protested, struggling to hold on to control. “Please,” she pleaded with him as he moved even closer, “stop this.”
Tavin’s laugh was low in his throat and the sound of it filled her with intense dread. He did not care that he was frightening her, she realized. He wanted her to be afraid of him. She tried to back away and was confused when she found that she had risen and been backed up against a wall, without even realizing that she had moved. Tavin’s body pressed against hers now and she was shaking in reaction to his nearness. It wasn’t right to feel such things for a cousin, she reminded herself fiercely. She tried to push him away, but he was not moving. Marit shook her head, struggling to free herself as his lips approached hers.
“NO!”
Tavin released her and Marit looked up to see her father standing in the doorway, his eyes blazing in anger. Marius strode down the stairs as Tavin backed away, bowing his head. He looked at his daughter and saw only her confusion. No pain, no illness. He relaxed and looked at Tavin coldly.
“It should be her choice,” Marius told his nephew stiffly. “Not as the result of a sneak attack. You dishonor your house by such tactics.”
“You know it is needed, my uncle,” Tavin replied tightly. “The storm is coming. She must be strong enough to survive it.”
“You will not be alone with her again, nephew,” Marius snarled, making Marit back away at his ferocity. “If I hear you have, I will have you executed.” Tavin started to say something, but thought better of it. He bowed his head and left. Marius sank down at the table, his head in his hands. “I had hoped they would accept the decision with better grace.”
“What is going on, Father?” Marit asked him, totally confused by what had just happened. “Was Tavin going to hurt me?”
“He would not see it that way,” Marius told her wearily. “It did not happen,” he sighed in relief as he took her hand in his and rested his cheek against it; “that is all that matters.” He saw her confusion but knew he could not speak to it. “Trust me, child, and let us be done with this for now.” He nodded towards her guard. “Go to your rest.”
Marit kissed his cheek and left the kitchens, wondering what had happened. It was obvious that her cousin had been meaning to do something to her that her father did not approve of. She remembered the way Tavin had been looking at her and she shivered. This new life of hers was far more complicated than she had thought it would be.
“You only postponed the inevitable, brother-in-law,” Taryn said as he stepped out of the shadows. “You know we are right.” He saw Marius’ eyes heat up. “You would give your child to that bastard’s son without her full inheritance! What kind of protection would that be?”
“The prince would never allow them to harm his wife,” Marius argued.
“He is one boy, Marius,” Taryn replied tightly, “against centuries of prejudice and stupidity. You overestimate his powers of persuasion.”
“And you give him no chance,” Marius replied, his voice filled with weariness. “She is my daughter, Taryn; allow me to see to her welfare.” He held his hand up as Taryn began to argue further. “Enough, old friend. Enough.”

*
Marit rose the next morning still wondering what the argument between her father and Tavin had been about. It had been important to both of them, but they had not told her why. Since it had been about her, she found this quite wrong. She dressed and went with her ladies and the guards to the courtyard. Prince Justin and his men were waiting for them. Justin helped her onto her mare, his hands moving quickly as her father watched, so that he could not accuse the prince of any impropriety. Then they rode out, crossing the bridge to visit the Fair. Away from the castle, Justin found ways to touch her, stand close to her, as often as possible. He left her head and her heart spinning with confusion and delight; quite a change from the terror that Tavin had evoked in her only the night before.
“Why won’t he tell me why he is worried, my lord?” Marit asked Justin during one of their rare moments together. “It is about more than the alliance.”
“You must allow him to tell you his worries in his own time, my lady,” Justin told her. He had been warned that Tavin was seeking to undermine the alliance by playing on Marit’s innocence, and he was finding it very hard to keep from going after Tavin and murdering him. His attack was jeopardizing everything they had worked towards for so long. “Let us think of pleasanter matters,” he continued. “Such as where we shall live once you are mine.”
“We would not live here?” Marit asked him, wondering why she would have thought that. He would be king of his own family holdings. Why would he want to live here in her father’s lands? She saw a length of silk that shimmered like a rainbow and moved away from him before he could answer. “So beautiful,” she sighed as she held it to her cheek.
“Then you must have it,” Justin replied, smiling at the way her eyes lit up in delight like a child’s. There was no artifice about this girl, he realized. She was the first truly honest female he had ever known. He turned to the merchant. “Deliver all that you brought of this fabric to the castle.”
“No one has ever given me such a gift,” Marit smiled up at him. “But it is too much. The monies could be put to better use, surely.”
“My people will forgive me for wanting my future bride to have something lovely,” Justin told her bluntly.
“Whose food rations will you cut to pay for it, prince?” Tavin asked as he strode up to them. He bowed over Marit’s hand and glared at the other youth.
“No one in Northfell is in danger of starvation,” Justin frowned as he saw Marit’s joy die. “Your cousin is being deliberately divisive.”
“Perhaps you can tell my cousin why, prince of Northfell,” Tavin suggested as he moved behind Marit and laid his hand on her shoulder. He leaned in close, the warmth of his cheek making Marit feel strange. Like she was prey, and he was the predator. She moved away from his touch, remembering the wolf she had seen in him, and met his cold eyes. “Has he told you anything about the minds of the people he rules, Marit?”
“How Northfell feels about this alliance is not your business, Stormkeep!” Justin snapped at the other, his fists clenching in anger. “Keep your nose out of what does not concern you.”
“But it does concern me, Northfell,” Tavin snarled. “Marit is my cousin. I will not have her going in to alliance with you blind to…”
“Enough!” Marit snapped, causing them to turn her way. “If you are going to fight,” Marit told them both, her eyes going cold in her own anger, “then you will take it elsewhere, my lords. No,” she said, holding her hand up to them, “I do not excuse either of you. Leave me alone.”
She watched them glare at each other and then move off in opposite directions. Again she saw the image she had seen of Justin earlier; him being whipped to fight the wolf against his will. Is that what this was between Justin and Tavin; a fight someone else was orchestrating? Marit felt as if a storm was gathering around her, and these two men were part of a darkness she did not wish to experience. But she was blind to what was coming, and she did not like the feeling one bit. She jumped as Sysha laid her hand over hers and saw the woman’s nod of respect. That lightened her mood, and they returned to examining the silks and other fabrics.
“That was well played, Princess,” Sysha smiled as they moved on to another stall. “Do not let either of those pups get away with such ill manners in your presence.” She shook her head as she saw the question forming. “I can not tell you why, my lady. That is for them to speak of; if they will.”
“I have a feeling,” Marit said as she picked up a particularly lovely silver bracelet engraved with scrollwork that confounded the eye’s ability to follow its pattern and examined it, “that they must speak of it or it will never be resolved.” She handed the bracelet to the merchant. “We will have this and any matching pieces, Merchant.” She turned to Sysha. “Is it too much as gifts for my ladies?”
“They are very lovely, Princess,” Sysha told her and beckoned to the man holding the purse for them. “You have a good eye.”
“And her father’s temper,” Celia said as she joined them. She was on the arm of her own affianced lord, Lorenz of Thaxton. They both bowed to Marit. “The story of your put down of prince Justin and prince Tavin is spreading through the Fair like a wildfire, my lady.” She giggled in delight. “It’s about time someone put those two down a peg.”
“I will not,” Marit defended her actions, “have them fighting in my presence.” She bit her lip and looked at her companions. “Was it wrong of me to make such a condition?”
“You are the daughter of their liege lord, Princess,” Lorenz told her firmly. “They were treating you with disrespect, and you were within your rights to let them know you did not approve of their ill manners.”
“I could become quite a little tyrant,” Marit frowned as she realized what the man was telling her. Her companions looked at her. “Were I a different sort of person, that thought would delight me.” Instead it sent a chill running through her. She turned to the next stall and her smile returned. “Susa! Look who is here!”
Susa raised her head from where she was listening to something meant only for her ears and her eyes