Heart of the Enemy Read online

  TILLY HART

  Copyright © 2019 by Tilly Hart

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, places and likenesses to real people, living or dead, are purely coincidental.

  For my husband

  Thank you

  COMING SOON

  Look out for upcoming titles in my Royal Romance series

  The King and the Coquette

  The Wicked Prince

  A Princess for Two Kings

  The Warrior’s Princess

  For release info, sign up to my newsletter

  Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  EPILOGUE

  Author’s thanks

  COMING SOON

  CHAPTER 1

  My fingers trembled against my brother’s arm as we stood above the milling crowd. Courtiers from kingdoms near and far had gathered for the weeklong celebration marking his coronation. The floor was a bedazzlement of richly embroidered dresses and coats, below a sea of ornately masked faces.

  ‘Are you ready, Liss?’ Dante’s voice was quiet but strong beside me. Throughout our childhood he’d been the rock for myself and our three younger siblings. When father died last year, I’d hoped arranging a marriage would be further down Dante‘s list of priorities. Alas, I was wrong. As an unproven king, he needed to show an unwavering duty to the realm.

  ‘No. Please, can we wait a few more months? I don’t see why I need to rush into a wedding?’ I felt queasy at the thought of descending into the pit of people, desperate for me to wed them, their sons or brothers. Being the heir to the throne until my brother produced offspring of his own has ruled my entire life. Father used to call me ‘the spare’ on the rare occasions he deigned to speak to us. Heir and the spare, Dante and I.

  ‘You’re already twenty-three, the time has come for your marriage. If father’s illness hadn’t drawn on for so long then he would have had you wed years ago.’ His big brown eyes, much like my own, met mine, and he gave a small, sorry smile. ‘We will find you a good man, someone kind and gentle who will give you the respect you deserve, but will also be an advantageous match for the Kingdom. It is our duty.’

  I parroted his statement as he expected of me. ‘Yes, it is our duty.’

  My whole life had been about duty. Duty to our people, to our family, to our counties, to the Kingdom. Duty to be wise, to be careful, to be self sacrificing. There is a lot of privilege afforded to us as Royals, people fantasise about living our lives, but they don’t see past the lavish balls and decadent food. I have never, ever been alone. Not truly alone. The guards always have eyes on us. The closest I get is in my inner bed chamber in my quarters, and even then a guard stands outside the door. My lips had never been grazed with a first kiss. Twenty-Three, and never experienced a heady, illicit kiss. It wouldn’t be proper, and even if temptation had come my way, the boys I knew wouldn’t have dared to try it. Even during the courtly games of fox and dog where the goal is to capture a lady and steal a kiss, my sisters and I would receive a deep bow of respect instead.

  And now, I was towed, either a prince or king from one of the nearby kingdoms. It would be below my station to marry a marquis or duke, or a baron or viscount, which drastically narrowed my choices. My sisters’ and younger brother would most likely have a little more leniency in choice, but as the second in line to the throne, I did not.

  The caller called out our names in a deep lyrical tone, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen of the court, I give you His Majesty King Dante and Her Royal Highness Princess Alessandra.’

  Trumpets sounded to the left and right while a great cheer arose from the swarm of bodies below.

  Deep breaths. You can do this.

  I’d attended hundreds of balls in my lifetime, and always knew I was a pawn to better our kingdoms standing, but this was the first time I was open for auction. Royal men would barter with my brother and battle to be the highest bidder. Dante may mean well in his declaration of giving me some choice, but if he would use me to gain favour through a marriage allegiance, then sacrificing the chance at love better come at a high price.

  Dante placed his hand over mine as we descended the thickly carpeted staircase and gave my fingers a squeeze. It was of little comfort. The courtiers parted to give us space, bowing and curtsying as we passed through.

  As was tradition, the musicians started up, and we danced together in the centre of the room, all eyes upon us. My pulse thundered in my throat as nervous sweat gathered at the base of my spine. The gazes of hundreds of eyes was like a great crushing force.

  ‘Liss, I love you, you know that.’ My brother spoke to me between twirls and skips. ‘Please, you need to give up the fantasies you had as a child. They will bring you nothing but sorrow.’

  ‘Yes, your Majesty.’ He was right. I knew it. It didn’t make it any easier though. I’d watched the way my father fiercely loved my mother while I was growing up, and I craved that intense love they had. My father may have been a cruel and hard man, and showed little interest in us children, but when he saw my mother his eyes would light up and it was like someone had lit a fire within him. Until her dying day he had loved her intensely. And when she passed he was unbearable to live with. As much as he was a terrible father and a mean and vengeful king, I craved that love I saw him envelope her in.

  The dance ended, and I drew in beside my Ladies-In-Waiting to catch my breath.

  ‘Wine?’ Nicolette passed a silver chalice into my hands and I took a huge mouthful.

  ‘You’ll be swaying within minutes if you keep that pace up, your Highness.’ Maria had a wicked glint in her eyes that told me she thought it a jolly good idea to keep the pace up. Maybe it was.

  ‘Oh, Prince Gregor of Alitea is coming, Princess, to your right.’ Serena whispered under her breath beside my ear and I followed the direction to see a boy of no more that sixteen approaching. He dressed in a series of flounces and frills that even the prettiest maiden would feel ridiculous in. Oh boy.

  ‘Princess Alessandra, it is an honour to meet you.’ He bowed low and grasped my hand in his sweaty little palm, planting a rather wet kiss upon it. My stomach roiled, but I gave a tight smile and returned the curtsy.

  ‘Well met, your Highness, I hope you are enjoying the festivities.’

  A cocky grin smothered his face as he looked me up and down, taking his time over my chest.I shifted uncomfortably under the diminutive creeps gaze. How could someone so young be so utterly lecherous?

  ‘I’m enjoying them even more now that your beauty is lighting up the room.’ Bile arose in my throat at the very thought.

  ‘You are too kind,’ I said, stiffly.

  ‘Would you care for a dance? I would talk to you about my proposal to make you my bride.’

  The Aliteans lacked in subtly and finesse, but for him to say such in public was nothing short of scandalous. Alitea was a cold, stark island far off the eastern coast and I had no plans to spend my years huddled by a fire in a cold, damp building. No, thank you.

  ‘Later, your Highness, I need to eat a little before I dance, otherwise this wine will go straight to my head.’

  ‘Pity. I shall hold you to that. Once I have you in my arms, you won’t wish to leave them, ev
er.’

  The ladies and I waited until he was out of earshot before shuddering in disgust at the young wretch.

  ‘Goodness, where has he learned to be so utterly vile at such a tender age.’ The ladies shrugged and shook their heads.

  ‘I will presume that we won’t be calling you Queen of Alitea one day?’ Serena giggled and nudged me.

  ‘Not unless he has a much more delightful older brother.’

  One struck of the list already. Marrying someone so many years younger than I wasn’t an option. It wasn’t unheard of throughout the realm, but whoever I married had to at least be a real man.

  For a time I danced with my ladies and ate from the decadent feast set out on the long wooden tables. Dante had really gone all out on the plush decor and the exotic foods. Boars stuffed with tart berries, cheeses from throughout the region, fresh venison with oranges; each of the long tables heavy with food and drink.

  The night wore on and I had to accept many dances from prospective husbands, and not one sparked even a flicker of attraction within in me. They were, mostly, polite and handsome and charming, but that ignition I’d hoped for was lacking throughout. After hours of polite talk, swirling in the arms of so many people and a belly full of rich food and wine, dizziness swept over me. I steadied myself against Serena and she looked at my, eyes filled with concern.

  ‘Are you all right, Liss?’ Serena had been by my side as my lady-in-waiting since we were ten, and had long been my best friend.

  ‘Yes, I think I just need some air.’ My mask was itching at my skin and I longed to rip it off, and I ached to get out of the heavy gown which strangled my hips.

  ‘Shall I get the guards?’

  ‘No, I just need five minutes on my own, to regain my senses. I’ll be back in a moment.’ Serena looked torn between her loyalty to me, and what she knew was right. A princess unattended definitely wasn’t okay. ‘Please, Serena, five minutes.’

  ‘If you aren’t back in five minutes, I’ll be coming to find you.’ She warned, squeezing my hand.

  I nodded and dove into the crowd, winding my way through the bodies and ducking behind an alcove. Most people didn’t know about the small door hidden behind it that only opened from the inside, but we’d regularly escaped through it as children.

  I tumbled into the rose garden and the chilled air hit my sweat slicked skin. I moaned softly at the sensation and walked into the centre of the ornate garden that my father had built for my mother. It was a beautiful space, and my refuge from the incessant demands of court life. The sweet scents flowed around me as the breeze tickled my shoulders. Quiet was so underrated. I closed my eyes and let the night have me, Serena be damned, I wasn’t going back in there.

  I wondered if anyone would ever love me enough to construct something as beautiful as this garden for me. That’s what I wanted. I wanted a man driven so wild with desire, not for my land or my title or the chance to be Prince or possibly the Queen’s consort, but for me. I wanted the love you read about in fairy-tales, the all-consuming, that nothing-else-matters kind of love.

  But I was doomed to a life of duty and honour, child bearing and drudge. As a princess, I would be bound to that life regardless, but wouldn’t it be more palatable with a true love by my side?

  I wish.

  I desire.

  I cannot have.

  CHAPTER 2

  I heard soft sobs coming from the other side of the hedge. I’d hoped to wait a few more hours before slipping in to the masked ball unnoticed, when the guards tired and grew lax, and the courtiers were largely too drunk to notice a newcomer. But the sobbing was grating at the edge of my focus and I needed to see who it was that had had such a wretched time at the ball.

  Being as quiet as possible, I walked along the hedge until I reached the corner, and glanced around it. My mouth went dry and my pulse quickened as I spied a woman. She sat on the edge of a bench, her decadent red dress spilling around her in an expensive of satin. The voluminous skirts met at a slender waist, then the fabric flared up over her creamy chest. Her dark hair tumbled about her face in one of the elaborate up-dos that the Latanian’s seemed to favour. But her face captivated me. Underneath the tear-streaked cheeks and the reddened eyes was the most beautiful woman I’d seen. She had sweet, full lips rouged to match her deep russet dress, and a smattering of freckles dancing about her nose and cheeks. A compulsion propelled me toward her before I could think about the potential consequences of being caught here, in the court of my sworn enemies, but I had to see more of her, hear her voice, be close to her.

  ‘I’m sorry m’lady, may I be of some assistance?’ She nearly jumped straight out of her skin at the sound of my voice, but she took a moment to eye my fine clothing and displayed jewels that marked me as a nobleman, and relaxed.

  ‘I didn’t realise anyone else was out walking, I’m dreadfully sorry if I interrupted your stroll with my nonsense. Please don’t fret yourself over me.’

  I should have left. It would have made sticking to my plan much easier. But I couldn’t. I had to know more about her. Why was she crying? Who is she? Had someone hurt her? The thought brought a wave of anger flowing through me that caught me off guard. I’d only just met her, why was she affecting me so?

  ‘Here, at least take my handkerchief.’ I handed it over and turned to stalk back to my hiding place despite the pull back to her I felt.

  ‘Perhaps, you could sit with me a while. If you need not get back to the ball so soon.’

  No. Say no Aryn. It’s a bad idea. Stick to the plan.

  ‘M’lady, It is an honour to join you a while.’

  ‘M’lady…’ She looked amused at my use of lady, and I hoped for a moment that I hadn’t slipped up. Protocol here was so different from home.

  ‘I’m sorry, is there another address I should use?’

  ‘You could call me Liss. Titles are so… restrictive.’

  Titles are the cornerstone of court, and this woman was proving an enigma. I sat down beside her, leaving a polite distance between us. I glanced to my right as she dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief. Brown, her eyes were a deep brown ringed at the centre with gold. The gown bared her shoulders and my stomach clenched at her flawless skin; I wanted to lay my lips on every inch of her flesh that gleamed in the soft evening light.

  ‘As you wish, Liss. Tell me, was the ball all that bad?’

  ‘Yes. Well, for me. How did you find it?’ Lie, Aryn. Something in her open expression and those wide brown eyes made me want to abandon my ruse. But I couldn’t. Too many people depended on the outcome.

  ‘I haven’t been in yet. My entourage and I arrived rather late, and with the mass of courtiers here, securing my rooms and settling in took longer than I had expected.’

  ‘I thought I hadn’t seen you here before, and your accent places you from out with our neighbouring kingdoms. May I have your name?’

  I hesitated, but only for the briefest of moments, but the lie burned into me as it emerged. ‘I am Lord Rayan Tari, of Pama. Pleased to meet you…’

  My voice drifted, and I expected she would fill the space with her introduction, instead she caught me off guard with a spewing diatribe of angst.

  ‘See, titles. Why must we all be about titles? Who has the most land? Who has the most peasants? Who has the biggest wheat crop? Who has the best knights? It is so tiresome.’ She stood up as she spoke and paced back and forth before the bench, her skirts skimming my legs as she passed and sending me warring with my loyalties again. There was a fire brewing in her which enraptured me.

  ‘I spend my life doing as I’m told. Learn to sew, learn to read, paint these dainty little violets. As though anyone needs more amateur paintings about the place.’ Her cheeks reddened as she became more heated. ‘Do as you’re told, be a good girl, get married to the best prospect, think of everyone else.’

  From growing up with a rather feisty younger sister, the best plan was to keep my mouth shut and let her vent.

  ‘I am a
s privileged as I am trapped. Are the gowns and the jewels and the lavish lifestyle worth the loss of freedom? I’m doubting that they are. I am so lucky to have what I have, but the farmers and the townspeople can all follow their heart. Can choose love. But if you are the daughter of someone who matters you are nothing but a pawn. Reared to perfection then sold to the highest bidder.’

  ‘Doesn’t it say in your holy books and the laws of Latania that you cannot wed without your consent? That marriage may only be viable if you are willing?’

  She turned to face me, so caught up in her venting that she looked surprised to find me there. ‘Yes, it does, but it’s not that simple. I’d be letting people down. My whole life they have taught me it is what us women do. We sacrifice. I cannot just step along a path of my making. My desires are just that. A desire, a folly, a fairytale. Duty is the hearthstone of the nobility, without it we would fall to pieces. Society and expectation clip our wings, but it is a cage of our own making. I seek love, and marriage with a man who truly desires me, not just the influence a marriage will bring him. But I cannot step away from my life.’

  ‘Have you ever tried following your heart rather than your head? In my country, following your heart is brave rather than foolish. Love is an essential to a relationship, not an afterthought.’

  I watched as her thoughts drew a variety of expressions across her face. A furrow of her brows, a frown of those kissable lips, a blush creeping into her freckled cheeks. And then a squaring of her shoulders and a deep surge of her chest as she took a long breath.