When Day Turns Night Read online

  My sister and Lassi our nursemaid laughed loudly as they entered the stables, chattering about the hunt, and it broke our spell. I looked toward them, my heart beating faster at the thought of becoming caught, and Trian stepped back.

  “I should prepare, dawn is just coming,” his voice said softly, his breath along my cheek.

  “Aye,” I murmured, and without the command of my brain I set my hand on the firm cool chest in front of me.

  I dropped my eyes to that offending digit as it once again wound that spell between us. I could barely muster the thoughts that I shouldn't be touching him so intimately. I slid my hand along his pectoral that my own chest had been pressing against a moment ago, taking note of the battle scars. Our kingdom was at peace, but it didn't mean that our borders went without their fair share of skirmishes. My eyes followed my hand as it traced his firm muscles, trailing fingers against him and catching a few drips against his naked breast. I could see he was fully erect now, or at least I hoped he could not grow more immense than he currently was, stretching against the damp cloth. My hand ached to grasp the wide girth of it, slide over the mushroomed tip. I wanted to pull the cloth away and taste it as I had been told men loved. I looked into his eyes, letting him see my desires there, and he did touch my face this time, gently cupping my cheek, his lips opening softly.

  How many other women had he bound with this spell? The thought was enough to cause me to jerk back, wiping my hand against the heavy wool tunic.

  “Anyone in the barracks is fine, lord knight. Any,” I swallowed, ashamed of myself, and hurried around the corner to the stables.

  The sun was high, arching toward noon, and the hunting had slowed. Trian had come and so had one of his men, Niall.

  My sister was up ahead, stretching her bowstring, Niall was riding only steps behind her, and Lassi a few steps behind him. I had allowed Trian and I to fall behind, putting several horses between us, letting them weave through the edges of the forest with some privacy. My bow, while in my hand and strung, lay dormant. I had caught my fill for the day, and I knew I had impressed Trian with his silent smiles as he looked on.

  “This morning,” I began when I was certain we were out of ear shot from the rest of our small hunting party, “cannot be discussed again.”

  Trian pulled his horse up beside me, riding close enough that his leg brushed against mine. Lightning cracked between us, sparking and tying us together. “My lady Princess, it is not only you who would suffer at indiscretion.” He looked into my eyes, as though he could press his words in through them.

  “Aye, my future husband would no doubt have serious words with you.”

  Trian laughed at that, “Words that involved a knife and my balls. Begging your pardon your highness, I shouldn't speak so boldly.”

  I smiled at him, “He would probably display them against all would-be bathers.” I bit my lip, I shouldn't encourage his lewd comments, especially against my future husband.

  Trian chuckled softly again, “Still, I should not have been bathing out in the open.”

  “And why were you – other than the obvious that the well was easily accessible.”

  His mouth quirked and he looked at me, then away into the forest, “I was having dreams, I thought the best way to dispel them would be to freeze them away with the blast of chilled water.”

  “What were your dreams about?” I asked, setting the bow along the saddle horn as I looked about the clear forest of my home, attempting to not notice that he was moving the horse to put our legs together as much as possible.

  “I...would rather not say, my lady Princess,” his voice was deep, and I knew that they were of me, and judging from how quickly his body had reacted to me this morning they were of a sexual nature.

  I blushed and watched as my sister's bow sang and the arrow flew. There was a sharp scream and I knew she'd caught herself a rabbit.

  We stopped far enough away that we were still outside ear shot as Niall's cheer broke the silence of the forest and he dismounted to retrieve it.

  I looked at Trian, my heart pounding again. The entire morning I had been envisioning his firm body, his flaccid member resting against his balls, the stretch of him curving up toward his belly, knowing it had been against me as I had stepped in close. His beautiful chest muscles, the way his hair dripped and his skin was cold against my outstretched hand. I had imagined him kissing me, over and over, his lips soft against me, his muscled arms wrapped around me.

  “It cannot happen again. I know I should not have encouraged your nudity, nor stared so boldly,” I was rambling now, attempting to scold, but the words were lust-filled. I wanted him so badly I didn't know how to forget him. I certainly was forgetting myself.

  Trian's hand caught mine, his gloved hand holding onto my bare one. The look in his eyes showed that he understood, but as I did he wanted it to happen again. He wanted to be with me.

  The sound of pounding hooves and a shrill whinny from a horse alerted our party to an approaching person.

  “Hail, Highnesses!” I heard, and saw a guard break through the trees, heading toward us.

  “Yes, what is it?” I spurred my horse softly, trotting up toward my sister, putting Trian and Niall between us and the guard. Though he wore my father's colors, I did not recognize him.

  “Highness, your father is gravely ill, your mother fears he may go before this very night.”

  My heart broke, but stoically I nodded and we followed him home.

  Trian delivered Ita and I to my father's bedchambers. He lay in his fur and wool quilts, his hair laying against the pillows beneath him. My mother at his side, her hand in his. Only last night he was hearty, and so much better. He coughed again, and my mother wiped a bit of blood from his mouth.

  I stopped right inside the door, feeling Trian respectfully at my back, close enough I could touch him, but far enough for propriety.

  Ita crawled up on the bed beside my father, her head dropping to his chest, and he tried hard to wrap his arm around her.

  I could feel the tears on my cheek, knowing that we were losing him. I stepped forward and knelt beside my father's bedside, praying for his pain to ease quickly. I heard Trian's voice dismiss the other guards, taking his post beside the head of my father's bed.

  Trian offered a song of praise, a soft prayer song, and I watched as my father slipped away to his lovely voice.

  Winter, Ireland, 1139

  I refused to use the feast of my father's funeral as the feast for my wedding, sending Conchobor away until spring. I would wed him then and he would become king. My mother was in deep mourning – secluded in my father's chambers she barely exited to speak with my sister and I, her heart broken. As acting queen I could demand a stay of marriage, surely.

  Conchobor was furious, as was his mother. But as acting queen, my lord, even my future husband the king could not overstep my rule until we were wed. He and Muirenn had disappeared into the night two days after my father's passing. Before even the funeral.

  I stood at my window, peering through the chilled slit, staring down into the courtyard, watching my soldiers as they went through their morning routines in the softly falling snow. I saw Trian, giving orders and adjusting their ranks.

  I had learned that he was a Captain, his force had come from the borderlands the week before my engagement party. I had also learned that there was some concern about my future husband. He was known along the borderlands as a hard man, his father they said was feeble minded, and Muirenn had raised him alone and poisoned him with her black heart. He had passed me letters from a Baron whose lands bordered Artan's.

  It did little to dispel my concerns I had upon meeting him. The Baron had sent Trian and fifty of his best men, and said that he would send us many more come spring time, or, should I need it, sooner. He had begged my father to rescind his blessing on Conchobor.

  I sighed. None shall usurp him save a son of his blood. I was not a son. I crossed to my desk, and the stack of other papers I had i
nherited with the refusal to marry until spring. It was going through those papers that I had discovered the Baron was not the only one who had begged my father to denounce Conchobor. There were examples of him being a hard man, of him hanging a woman for refusing to give him her virginity.

  Ita came in as I pondered these missives again, dozen's of them, appealing to my father's heart and trust. Begging him to realize the crown prince was as horrid as Mac Raith had been.

  “I'm bored,” my sister said, flopping on the bed, “Lets go riding.”

  I looked at her, as though she had just entered the room.

  “I'm busy, sister. In a few months time I am supposed to marry.”

  “Ugh, Conchobor is so secretive. He refused to talk to me. You should have insisted that he go hunting with us, if he's to be my brother I'd like to know what he's like.”

  I looked at her. “So would I. Have you done your music lessons?” I asked.

  Ita sighed with the petulance of a child. “Yes, and my stitches, and my reading. Lassi says I'm ahead of where she wanted me to be by year's end and gave me the rest of the day to my self. So lets go riding!”

  The last ride I had taken was our hunting party, side by side a man I should not be craving. He was from the borderlands – perhaps he would know more of Conchobor, or dispel my fears. My father had often taught me to trust my readings of people, and with those initial thoughts and the many letters. I needed to decide. As queen unless my soldiers, my council... everyone around me really, supported me I could easily be usurped going against my father's wishes for future king.

  Discretion was key, I needed to discover the thoughts of my council and family, I needed to discover if my men would follow me or their would-be king.

  Sitting at my desk, I penned a quick letter to Trian, asking him to bring five of his most trusted soldiers for a ride with my sister and I. I thought quickly. How could I deliver the missive that I was thinking sure treason against the future king? What if Trian was loyal to Conchobor? I knew in my heart that wasn't the case. “I hope to find you well, and not frozen by chilled water.” I added, perhaps it would draw his thoughts to that morning and the discretion we shared. I handed the missive to my sister.

  “Give this to Trian, please, and we'll go riding this afternoon.”

  I dismissed myself then, crossing through the stone halls to my father's chambers. My mother was sitting silently beside fire, wrapped in a thick fur that smelled like my father. I crossed and knelt in front of her.

  “Mother,” I murmured, looking at her, my eyes tearing.

  “Jesmaine, my daughter,” she smiled at me softly, setting the needlepoint down on the table beside her.

  “I come to you with a troubled heart, Mother, seeking your wisdom.” Her hair was bound up respectfully and far grayer than it had been only a few short months ago. Her gown was dark and somber, she wore no jewels, but still she was beautiful. She waited expectantly. “Father had received many messages begging him to rescind his declaration that Conchobor be king.”

  “Yes, he did. They troubled him greatly. Artan was your father's best friend, he was a kind and good man. But Muirenn, well as wonderful as she was before Conchobor's birth is as awful as she's become since, heaven help us.”

  I sighed, “A powerful witch is not one to anger.”

  “Aye, and your father felt he would be betraying a friendship wound deep in his heart should he not include Artan's line in the royal lineage. We were discussing perhaps cousins, or what not, and he had debated on naming you heir, despite the blessing, but feared war for our people. This was not what he longed for when he named him. Had Artan been healthier he would have ensured Conchobor's heart was good. I know not what to advise, my dear heart. Perhaps your good heart could soften Conchobor? Or perhaps 'twould be best to denounce him, but that would surely cause much strife on our people. But until you have decided...best to keep things quiet.”

  I nodded, smiling up at her. Our conversations drifted then to the upcoming holidays, to the chill of winter and the good hunting and full stores from the large harvest.

  We rode through the village as the snow fell silently around us. The people were happy, bustling about, making winter bearable with feasts and work. Children ran through the streets, stopping and waving and bowing.

  I rode silently, listening to my sister's happy chatter as she waved and smiled at the children, throwing coins or little presents she'd made for them.

  When we were outside the city walls and were weaving through the outer fields she pulled back and started chatting with some of the soldiers, bored with my lack of conversation.

  “Captain?” I called behind and he spurred forward, lining up beside me.

  “You seem distracted, Highness.”

  I looked behind me and nudged the horse forward a bit, faster than my sister, leaving them behind a bit.

  “Yes, Captain, I... well, allow me to get directly to the point. I am concerned about the crown prince.”

  Trian sucked in a breath, looking at me, “And you are talking to me about this?”

  I looked behind me at my sister and Trian's men. “I know I can trust you. I have always been able to read people and know their heart.”

  The faintest blush came to Trian's chiseled cheeks.

  “Trian, you brought me a letter from the Baron, did you know what was inside it?”

  Trian's mouth set in a hard line. “I do. The baron and I discussed things at length.”

  “So you know his concerns about Conchobor.”

  He nodded, looking behind him, “Anyone from the borderlands on the west know about Conchobor. He... well my lady he is not the nicest of Lords. I fear for the kingdom should he take over.”

  “As do I. Oh, Trian what do I do? If I denounce my father's wishes no doubt there will be war. Artan had a large following and Muirenn.” I sighed.

  “Princess, I know that the Baron will support you with his army, and the men here love you. I will start quietly asking around. As much as we don't want war, we must decide which would cause the country greater suffering.”

  Behind me I heard my sister squeal out a challenge, and her horse race forth, hooves beating against the snow.

  I smiled, knowing she would realize that I was distracted if she issued her challenge and I ignored it. Smiling at Trian, I spurred my horse forward, nudging quickly along the path as my sister bolted past me. Trian was behind us in seconds, and I could hear the hooves of the other men behind us too, and my sister's laughter as she made it to a tree often raced to.

  “I win!” She squealed, spinning her horse in a circle.

  “That you did young princess, that you did,” Trian smiled as we stopped beside her.

  “Do you think Conchobor will let us ride still? Father said that a lot of things will change when he's king, and that I should be careful to always act lady-like.”

  Trian looked at me, his blue eyes cloudy. I swallowed, attempting to not let her know he had been our topic as well. “Well I can't really guess what Conchobor is like, Ita, most of what I know comes from other sources.”

  “He's no where near as pretty as you!” Ita laughed, as she tipped her head into Trian's shoulder. I rolled my eyes at her, such a flirt for a young woman, just entering her womanhood. Perhaps we had let her have too much leniency. I thought about the morning I had seen him naked, visualizing his beautiful body, pretty was not the right word.

  Trian laughed and touched her nose, “Not many men are, young princess.”

  “Do you think I'll ever be as pretty as Jesmaine? Mother says I'll grow into my body and fill out.”

  Trian smiled, looking at me.

  “Princess!” Lassi called out in shock, finally catching her fat mule up to us. “Some decorum please!”

  “Oh Lass, we're just having fun,” she laughed.

  But Lassi had straightened her up, and the rest of the afternoon was spent enjoying ourselves without the worry of breaking propriety.

  Two Weeks Later, Ir
eland, 1139

  The messenger arrived mere hours before the army, racing into the great hall breathing heavy, with sweat beading on his brow. “My fair Princess!” He cried, dropping to his knees.

  I had been spoken with my council, concerned by the missives my father had received. Trian had sent messengers to the Baron asking for his aid and his army to be put on guard. My council had letters in the king's own hand, speaking of his concerns. They had also been alerted that the King had planned on spending two weeks with the prince and discovering where his heart lay and if the rumors were true. His illness, well it had come at an inopportune time.

  Bran, my father's right hand stood beside me. We had decided that I would be offering the Crown Prince an opportunity to court me, and possibly become King, but frankly, none within the castle liked him. We couldn't find a single council member, citizen or servant willing to say a good word about him. I had sent messages throughout the city looking for anyone from the borderlands. Unfortunately all the statements they issued came with fear, of Conchobor and his mother, though none said anything directly against him.

  “What is it Dabid?” Bran asked of the messenger as he panted at my feet.

  “An army, my lord, an army mayhap a thousand strong marches to the city.”

  I felt the rush of my heart and the breath whoosh out of my chest. Bran's hand grabbed at my elbow.

  “Who's army?” I demanded, my heart and breath the only hints at my feelings. My voice was strong, my back straight.

  “High Prince Conchobor's. They refused to make a statement as to why they march on the castle.”

  I looked at Bran, he could be coming to demand my hand in marriage and his place as King. Or he could be coming to just cut me out completely, which seemed likely based on the messages in our coffers.

  “My lord Bran, it would seem the time for decisions is at hand.”