Warrior by Violette Dubrinsky Read Free Book Online Page B

She was about
    to stand and thank everyone for
    mourning her father when Kegan’s
    voice cut through the low lull of
    others. “You’ve been a gracious
    hostess, Princess.”
    Silence descended as every eye
    turned to the duke before shifting
    across to her.
    “Thank you, cousin. It is my duty.”
    A small smile curved Kegan’s lips
    upward. “Yes, but does the duty not
    seem much for one who wasn’t raised
    to bear it?”
    Feeling anger surge, Jaisyn struggled
    to tamp it. She should have expected
    Kegan to stake his claim to the throne
    as soon as possible. Still, to begin at
    the funeral lunch of the deceased king
    was unmannerly, even for him.
    “If you are referring to me, cousin, I
    can assure you that I was raised to
    bear this duty and more.”
    A few gasps were the only sounds
    heard around the table. Jaisyn did not
    know whom she’d shocked, because
    her eyes never left Kegan’s face.
    Before her eyes, it darkened, showing
    anger.
    “You intend to rule?” He spat the
    question as if the very taste of it
    offended him.
    Jaisyn
    looked
    at
    every
    face
    gathered, every kinsman who waited
    with bated breath for her response. “I
    do not believe this is the time or place
    for discussion of my intentions,
    cousin. Only hours ago, my sisters
    and I watched our father’s body turn
    to black ash on a burning pyre.”
    There were a few grunts of
    agreement and Kegan’s face darkened
    further. “When will be the time for
    such discussion—?”
    The doors screeched as they sprang
    open and General Urian, accompanied
    by a warrior whose name she could
    not immediately place, but whose face
    was familiar, burst into the room.
    Everyone started but the general made
    no excuse for his interruption. Instead,
    he walked briskly to head of the table,
    over to Jaisyn. At first grateful for the
    interruption—Jaisyn had come close
    to marching from the table and
    challenging Kegan to a duel—she
    soon realized from the severity of the
    expression on the general’s face that
    something was amiss.
    He knelt beside her and whispered a
    few words into her ear. Though no
    one else heard what he said, everyone
    saw her face pale before a murderous
    expression appeared upon it.
    Looking directly at her general,
    Jaisyn
    murmured
    three
    words.
    “Ready the men.”
    The general nodded and quickly left.
    The
    warrior
    accompanying
    him
    followed.
    Jaisyn stood and surveyed her
    guests, “You will excuse me, my lords
    and ladies, for this hasty retreat but
    Morden soldiers have been spotted at
    Galtan Pass.”
    Galtan Pass was a Lytherian village
    that bordered the kingdom of Galtan.
    A few gasps came from the
    bluebloods around the table, who
    were no doubt shocked that an
    impending battle was being discussed
    in their presence.
    Jaisyn continued in her strongest
    voice. “They seem to be heading for
    our city. It would be in your best
    interests if you returned to your
    homes by taking the route to the
    west.”
    With that advice, Jaisyn dipped her
    head, stepped from behind the table,
    and strode from the Great Hall in the
    direction of the armory. When she
    entered, dressed as she was in black
    finery, the soldiers who were being
    helped into their armor paused and
    stared. Malcolm was one of those
    soldiers and he immediately read the
    look in her eyes.
    “Your Highness, it will be safer for
    you within the castle walls,” he said
    immediately. Jaisyn ignored him.
    Instead, she moved to the door on the
    far side of the armory that she used as
    a changing room.
    “Oregon, send for Magda,” she
    called to the squire who began to trail
    after her.
    “Yes,
    Your
    Highness.”
    He
    immediately turned and ran to do her
    bidding.
    “Your Highness?” came a tentative
    voice.
    She knew it was Malcolm calling
    her but she continued into the private
    rooms. She’d pulled the black veil
    from her face and was undoing the
    buttons of the dress when Malcolm
    barged in.
    “Forgive me, Your Highness,” he
    began, but she