**DAPHNE**
Eyes bloodshot and cupped with purple rings, Hayden stands there at the edge of the archway, smiling. His gait is slow and deliberate as he approaches, a leering gaze befalling me as he accosts my person, even in his drunken state. Gently, a breeze wafts toward me carrying his stench of sweat and cheap ale upon its wind. It's practically swirling around him like a fog of odious perfume. Atangible aroma of lecherous acts in which he undoubtedly committed with fervor. I resist the urge to retch and smile instead. Hayden’s boots are heavy with mud, and his tunic is unceremoniously stuffed into his breeches. It is as if he just rolled out of bed, or else, a farmer’s wagon.
“I was looking for you,” I say stupidly, stepping back toward the long corridor that leads to the tower room.
“Looking for me?” He coos, edging forward a bit more aggressively. “Do you tire of my father’s attentions already?” Then, as his eyes dive toward the front of my dress and the dip in my bosom, he licks his lips. “Can’t say that I am surprised.”
I clear my throat and take a step back. “I was hoping for some insight on your father’s whereabouts,” I lie, trusting that Dionie will remain silent, and he does.
Hayden laughs, smirking at me then shaking his head. With each step closer he gets, his smile becomes more malevolent, and I fight the tremble in my legs, standing my ground.
“My father.” He loses his smile and stops an arm’s length away. “That oaf is as deeply buried in his propriety as my mother is in her grave." He scowls, the couds of his eyes clearing for a moment. "He doesn’t love you, if that’s what you are thinking. So, if I were you, I wouldn't waste my time giving a damn where he is. He is infatuated, certainly. But...when he is done with you, he will release you from service as nothing more than a village whore. All used up and battered from riding, just like his old horse.” He snickers, and I see Dionie tense. Then, leaning forward to speak directly into my ear, he whispers, “If it is love you seek, you are betting on the wrong royal.”
My heart thunders in my chest as he lifts a finger to trace along my cheek, stroking it down over my chin then over the cords of my throat, watching it all the while with his unsteady blue eyes. When steps back with a mischievous smile, our eyes clash, and for a moment, I could swear I see confusion there. Almost as if, he’s afraid of his admission. As if his divulged too much of himself to the palace slave.
He lears his throat, taking a pointed step backward. “Good day to you, Daphne. I have a date with a hot bath and a tankard of ale.”
I watch him in stunned silence as he leaves the hall, wondering for the first time where it was he had been heading to.
*The tower? Could he have expected I would still be abed?*
When he is gone, I release a slow steady breath and allow my body to relax. After making sure that we are alone, Dionie turns to me and points down the hall toward the tower. I shake my head in defiance as a wave of nausea washes over me, and he frowns.
“Please,” he coaxes, stepping toward me in alarm as my knees begin to buckle.
Dizziness sweeps over me, and suddenly I have lost the strength to stand. Sandstone spins in a circle as my vision falters and I tumble clumsily toward the ground. My eyes slam shut as I await the painful crack of the cold hard floor.
It never comes.
Quick as lightning, Dionie catches me and lifts me into his arms, aarrying me effortlessly toward the stone stairwell, and whispering, “I’ve got you, my lady.”
“I am not a lady, Dionie,” I say, my eyes fluttering closed as I lean my face against his chest. “I am a peasant. I am a slave."
“You are a princess in my eyes, and I will treat you as nothing but.”
Now that I know Ash and this guard are friends, I don’t need to speak with Hayden. I’d much rather interrogate Dionie instead. So, when he lays me down upon the feather mattress of the tower room and turns to leave, I stop him.
“Dionie, wait!”
He sighs once again, his back tensing as he removes his helmet and turns to face me. “I shouldn’t be in here.”
“Then I’ll make this quick. Tell me where Ash has gone. Please,” I plea. “Why did he leave?”
He studies me cautiously, battling with himself it seems, almost as if he has been ordered not to tell me. “It's never okay to disclose the secrets of those you are loyal to, but...if you ask me the right questions, I may be able to satisfy *some* of your curiosity, “he admits.
*The right questions?*
*What?*
*What nonsense is this?*
Then it occurs to me. I need to be extremely specific.
“Have a seat Dionie,” I say, sitting up against my pillows and swallowing the bile that rises to my throat. Perhaps I am sick after all.
“I should not be in here,” he repeats, but does as I request and pulls up one heavy chair to sit at the foot of my bed.
“Dionie, are you truly a palace guard?”
“I am,” he says confidently.
“Are you new?”
“Yes.”
“Will you always be a palace guard?”
He hesitates. “No.”
“Are you one of King Hadimere’s palace guards?”
His eyes lock on the ground, and he clenches his jaw. “No.”
I gasp, as my mind begins to whirl. “Dionie? Whom do you take your orders from?”
He closes his eyes, biting down, as if in an attempt to find the right answer. “I take them from my commander.”
“Who commands you?”
“My prince,” he admits.
“Your prince? Prince Hayden? Is he your prince?”
Then, ever so slowly, he raises his gaze to mine. “No. Never.”
I lower my eyes. “Is your prince in this palace today?”
“No, my lady.”
“Was your prince here yesterday? More specifically, last night?”
Dionie stands as Petra enters the room with my breakfast tray, and I almost scream in frustration, thinking Dionie will no longer answer the question.
But...
...he does.
“Yes, Lady Daphne,” he says, with a slight bow. Then, as he leaves, “Yes he was.”