Blood Oath by Kit Tunstall Read Free Book Online Page A

three
pointed spires rising high into the sky.
    Otherwise, the castle resembled a solid
rectangle, with chimneys sprouting from the roof. It looked older than she
could imagine, except for a rounded tower on the side that didn’t quite mesh
with the older style. The stone looked newer, and it had more of a baroque
appearance than most traditional Eastern European castles.
    “How old is it?” she asked with awe. Why had
her mother walked away from all this? She had spent years working three jobs,
and all that time she could have lived the life of a queen. Had it truly been
necessary for Kathryn to turn her back on her home and position to protect her
child?
    “About a thousand-years-old.” Demi pointed
to the tower as they went down the hill. “Except the tower. It was added two
hundred years ago.”
    Anca’s eyebrows lifted when they neared the
opened drawbridge. Two men in gray uniforms stood guard on each side of it.
They waved Demi’s car through with a brisk salute.
    “Is this on the tour schedule?”
    He glanced at her briefly as he pulled up
near the smaller main entrance—though “smaller” was a relative term, since the
wooden doors blocking entrance to the castle were at least ten-foot high.
“Pardon?”
    “You know, the tourist stops. You could
probably make enough from admissions to pave the roads.”
    He shut off the engine and engaged the
parking brake as the heavy doors creaked open, and four people scurried out to
meet them. “We have no need—“
    “Without cars, sure, but with an economic
boost, everyone could afford cars.”
    He sighed. “Most of us are content with our
way of life.”
    She sensed his annoyance with the topic and
closed her mouth quickly to avoid offering any further unwanted advice. After
all, what did she know of running a country? Nothing. Moreover, she wanted to
keep it that way.
    Before she could formulate an innocuous
response, the passenger door opened, and a man was bowing to her. He wore
simple trousers, a cotton shirt, and a quilted vest. His garments could have
fit well with any period in history during the last five hundred years. “Your
Highness,” he greeted obsequiously.
    She almost looked over her shoulder before
she remembered she was whom he addressed. It was disconcerting to go from plain
Anca to something so pretentious. However, she restrained the urge to tell him
to use her first name. She imagined the lack of protocol would shock him.
“Hello,” she said instead, with a shaky smile. When in Rome, er, Corsova…
    He offered his hand to assist her from the
car. She took it and slid out. He immediately dropped his light hold and bowed
again.
    “Thanks.”
    A woman who had remained a few steps away
surged forward. She was middle-aged, with a heavy frame, curling gray-black
hair, and a simple cotton tunic and pants. She curtsied with surprising grace,
and her generous bosom threatened to spill from the top of her low-cut shirt.
“Welcome, m’lady. His Majesty eagerly awaits news of your arrival.”
    “I’m here,” she said, trying not to sound
flustered. If the groveling was any indication of what she could expect for the
next few days, she would go insane. Anca didn’t realize how stiff she was until
she felt the light touch of Demi’s hand at her waist.
    “This is Luiza, the cook.” He turned
slightly to the man who had greeted her. “This is Geza, the steward.” He waved
the other two servants nearer. The girl, with her thick, dark hair bound in a
bun, curtsied when Demi’s eyes rested on her. “Helena will be your personal
attendant during your stay.”
    The other man bowed once at the waist when
Demi turned to him. His eyes glinted with an unidentifiable emotion, and his
expression was stern. “Petru is in charge of security here at the castle.”
    Anca didn’t know whether to curtsey in
return, incline her head imperiously, or ignore the greetings. In the end, she
smiled and said a soft, “Hello.”
    Demi glanced down at the muddy