The Bladed Tiger's Empress, page 5
part #1 of Claiming Her Empire Series
His hands flew away from her, gripping the ground on either side of her that fell apart beneath his hard fingers, but he couldn’t stop kissing her. Her taste was tantalizing. Addictive.
She reached up and brushed her soft fingers over his ribs, the feeling wasn’t painful but holding himself over her was getting to be. He wasn’t fit to give her what she needed. In his current state, he wouldn’t be good enough for her, and Hayden strived for perfection if nothing else. Especially since he didn’t know the pleasures she may have gotten in bed from the painted peacock, and he definitely wanted to be better than him.
He pushed himself off of her and sat up reluctantly, then grunted as he pressed a palm to his ribs. “Did I hurt you?” she whispered, concerned.
“You? Hurt me?” He smirked at her. “Never.”
Her cheeks and her lips were still blushing red from their kiss. Her eyes, those dazzling eyes, were soft with desire and he swallowed his aching desperation. Not until he could give her pleasure properly. Not until he was at his best.
He had waited a long time, he could wait a bit longer.
“There’s a merchant town nearby,” he said breathlessly, trying to change the subject. “I can slip into town and purchase you something to wear tomorrow.”
She nodded, sitting up and turning towards the fire where the roasting fish were now slightly burnt.
4
A Desolate Town in Ruin
Hayden hadn’t mentioned the state of disarray the town was in to Princess Marilla. The merchants didn’t stay long, no one had the coin to purchase anything, it was more just along the road to the castle. He’d have to be quick and hopefully catch someone passing through.
He wanted to get Marilla something nice, or at least something she could wear instead of the ruined satin robe. And shoes.
The town of Redwood was nestled in the mountains, just before the crop farms that grew most of the food for the castle. Shouldn’t be more than a few hours walk.
“I want to come,” Marilla grumbled.
“Dressed like that?” he snorted. “I’ll buy you something wearable, Princess, you can trust me.”
“Where am I to wait?”
“Right here,” he said as he secured his blades behind his back and camel bag to his belt.
“Will you be able to find your way back here?”
“You insult me, Princess.”
“I just don’t see why I can’t go with you to the edge and wait for you in the cover of the trees there. Certainly it would be better to stay in a town than out here in the wilderness.”
He swallowed, shaking his head. “Not safe, they might recognize you.” That wasn’t the entire truth. They would certainly recognize her as a noble, and word could get back to the castle, but more he just didn’t want her to see the state her father had put her kingdom into. She didn’t need that on her conscience.
She watched him as he secured his bandages and slipped his undershirt back on, hiding the wounds beneath. She watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed beneath his thickening whiskers and how his lips moved as he talked. She wanted to kiss him again… wanted to be in his arms again. Craved the touch of his skin on hers. Wanted him unlike anything she had ever wanted before.
How could that be? She was a princess and he a general. Edna and the other women in the castle had told her she could never want someone below her class, that only a nobleman could make her happy.
Yet she wanted her general as only a wife should want her husband.
That was another thing, she was married wasn’t she? To a nobleman who still haunted her nightmares, but married, nonetheless.
“I’ll return by nightfall.” His voice cut through her thoughts, deep as thunder and the hair along her arms and the back of her neck rose as new desire she had never known, never felt, heated her skin.
She had known Hayden for her entire life. Had always felt affection for him, but they had scarcely touched, she regretted that now. Perhaps if they had, she’d have felt the electricity and known that she wanted him and no one else.
Then she would never have married Frederick.
“Be safe,” she said to his back, and he turned his head slightly, giving her a smoldering smile with a flash of white teeth through full lips.
“Always.”
“And buy me something pretty!” she called after him playfully as he stepped firmly through the forest, ignoring his wounds for her sake again.
“Yes, Princess,” he called over his shoulder before disappearing beneath the cover of the trees.
As Hayden trekked through the woods, he ignored the screaming pain in his ribcage, the sting of the blades crisscrossed over his arrow wound and the sweat that broke through around the deep cut on his chest. He’d be sporting several new scars once he was fully healed, not that he minded. If anything, scars tended to send a strong message of what he had already survived to his enemies, warning them of what he was capable of surviving and how strong they would have to be to defeat him.
He wasn’t happy leaving his princess behind. She could fend for herself, had proved that much to his surprise, but if their former soldiers decided to come back for them… he didn’t like leaving her alone.
He still felt the heat of her lips against his, the gentle caress of her tongue, the brush of her fingertips along his hypersensitive skin. He’d always been hypersensitive to her touch, if he took her hand to help her into the carriage or down steps when her dress was too long he’d feel the warmth of her palm for days.
He had gotten more than a fleeting touch of skin the day before. Just thinking back made his nether region twitch, but given the night to sleep on it, dreaming of course of her, he realized he shouldn’t give in to temptation.
Not yet.
He wanted her, had wanted her for years upon years and had been patiently waiting for her to want him, but she hadn’t. She’d chosen Frederick the painted peacock. That alone felt like the deepest wound that had ever been inflicted on him. Deeper than the arrow into his back, deeper than the many slices to his flesh he had endured, and it wasn’t healing. The pain in his heart from her decision to marry another still ached as if it were a real gaping, and bloody void of a wound.
Before he could move forward with Princess Marilla, she would need to pick him. Choose him. Forever. He couldn’t accept anything less.
Redwood came into view as the trees thinned. It was strange, stepping from the lush greenery of the forest into the dust that surrounded the town itself. The buildings were desolate, rundown from years of mistreatment and lack of upkeep. When he had passed through as a general, the condition of the town and its residents had always depressed him though he knew of nothing he could do.
The coal the town once mined had dried up years ago, most occupants had moved on to different towns, but others had spent all their money to get to this town only to find it dead. They needed money to move on, but there were no jobs and with no money to pay for crop, the emperor had closed off trade and not allowed charity to be given to the townsfolk from the crop farms that provided the castle’s meals.
A decision Hayden had not agreed with.
There was no alternative that benefited the emperor, so he had practically condemned the townspeople to death and it showed in the exposed bones of the skeletal beings that sat baking in the sun’s rays, exposed and vulnerable. Waiting for death’s release.
Most of those left behind were old and sick, either unwilling to risk death in the woods or unable to even try. This was the reality he didn’t want Marilla to see. This was what her father had shielded her from all those years.
The townspeople ignored him, which was just as well as he scanned the streets for signs of a passing caravan. He blinked dust from his eyes and swatted flies away from his sweat strewn face as he paced the short street, listening as he had in the woods for water. Listening for horses or the clank and creak of a moving wagon. He knew traders would be close, even before he saw the dust gathering behind one who gently tapped the reins against his horse that pulled his carriage of goods.
He sat at the front of the wooden carriage, a double-sided glaive resting in clear view as he rode. Smart, especially in a town filled with people desperate enough to attack merchants who traveled unarmed. Hayden made sure he was within view as the merchant neared. The driver tilted his head curiously at General Hayden, whose appearance was probably gruesome. Hayden had tried to wash the blood from his tunic undershirt and trousers with little success, but he also didn’t appear like any of the villagers. He was healthy, though a little injured, and probably had money to spend.
Regardless, the merchant didn’t slow until Hayden gave the international sign of good faith. He held up his pouch of money between his fingers.
The merchant pulled back on the reins gently, looking Hayden up and down. “‘Ello, chum,” he said pleasantly though his eyes still held a level of caution. “Lookin’ to rid yerself of sum coin are ye?”
“Depends on what you’re carrying,” Hayden said deeply, pocketing his coin purse.
“Ay,” laughed the merchant, lifting his glaive, which he used to steady himself as he dropped from the carriage. He then lifted the weapon to rest it against his shoulder, holding it behind his neck. The merchant was built burley, a sturdy sort of man and Hayden doubted he was a novice when it came to fighting. He had many scars along his forearms, hidden by thick black hair and leather tanned skin. Perhaps a mercenary before a merchant. “Come have yerself a look.”
Hayden followed him around to the back of the carriage where he uncovered his treasures. “What are ye lookin’ fer?”
“Wound salve and weapons, as well as women’s shoes and clothing.”
The merchant raised an eyebrow at Hayden. “Ye seem a lil’ large to fit into anythin’ I have for sale.”
Hayden snickered, turning up one side of his mouth in a half smile. “I’m daintier than I look.”
The merchant’s polite chuckle became a sincere laugh. He relaxed enough to set his glaive aside so he could sift through his merchandise. “Let’s see.” He pulled out a jar of honey. “This be the best I have in way of wound salve.” Hayden nodded and he set it aside. He brought out a linen wrap next, carefully pealing back the ends and exposing several daggers. “I apologize for me lack of weapons. The castle ‘ardly ever wants ‘em, so I typically leave ‘em safely behind to make room in me cart for things they’ll want.”
Hayden reached forward and examined each blade, turning them over on the tan linen. Each was a bit too heavy for his princess to wield efficiently. “Have anything smaller? Lighter?”
“Let me see,” he said, setting the blades aside. He sifted through a bit more and dug out another linen wrapped item, this one wrapped on its own. “Lightest thing I got,” the merchant informed, holding it out to him.
Hayden took the bundle and unwrapped it to find a copper dagger. It wasn’t exquisite, but it was practical. Small and sturdy for easy access and concealment.
He lifted it, turning the lightweight blade in his palm. He’d have preferred iron but the copper blade was shaped perfectly for Princess Marilla; her dainty hand would fit the handle’s grip excellently, and it would be an easy blade for her to yield.
He rewrapped it and set it with the honey.
The merchant seemed pleased as he brought out a trunk, dragging it from where it lay trapped against the wood frame of the cart. It creaked as he opened it, pulling out a simple dress.
It was a deep brown dress, not a rich material but soft to the touch and form fitting. Much more proper than her current attire though still not princess worthy. Regardless, he knew it would look divine fastened to her delicate form. She always did look best in brown tones.
He reached for it, but the merchant pulled it back slightly. “If ye’ really want to impress the lass,” he set the brown dress down next to the trunk and pulled out a robin’s egg blue dress, much more refined in cut and color with soft lace sleeves and collar, silk glistening in the sunlight. That gown was more fit for Princess Marilla, if she were still in the castle. Probably triple the price of the brown dress, but Hayden knew such a dress would be wasted with her hiding in the woods, a fugitive in her own kingdom.
The blue dress though exquisite would be as ruined as her current robe within a matter of hours, but the brown linen dress would hold up nicely against the rough terrain and probably offer more practical comfort. Hayden pointed to the brown dress and the merchant shrugged, handing him his choice. “Ay, ay, it be yer lass. Just don’t come runnin’ te me if she be less than pleased.”
Hayden smirked again as the merchant fished out soft leather shoes that looked to be Marilla’s size. “Do you also have an overcoat? One that would fit my size?”
The merchant gave him a quick once over. “No lad, you a bit too everythin’ to fit into me clothes.”
Hayden snorted a laugh. “How about a bag then?”
The merchant considered, shifting some more goods and came back with a leather sack that could fasten around Hayden’s shoulder.
“Your price for these items?” Hayden asked, pulling out his coin purse again. Usually he wouldn’t show the man his coin before the price was demanded, but he had stashed most of his money deeper in his trousers. He knew merchants had a keen eye for guessing how much was within a fat coin purse, so he only showed the thinned purse to the man.
As he suspected, the merchant practically asked for the exact amount within the purse. Hayden managed to barter down enough that he had two bronze and one copper coin left in his purse, that was until he walked away with his purchases and refilled his purse with the coin he had kept stashed.
For him, keeping his money on his person was the safest place for it. So, despite Princess Marilla’s lack of fortune, he had enough coin to purchase it all.
He returned to the woods, retracing his steps back to where Marilla was waiting, the leather bag secured around his uninjured shoulder until the strap irritated his chest wound too much, then he just carried it in his hand, gripping the bag securely between his strong fingers. His steps were long, his endurance drained as all the irritated injuries began to ache almost as terribly as his stomach. He thought he was hungry enough to imagine the aroma of cooked fish as he came through the trees towards the stream, but as he approached Marilla turned and he saw she was cooking using a fire he hadn’t prepared for her.
Something warm spread through his chest.
Pride.
She hadn’t sat idle waiting for his return. She had gone into the stream and caught more fish with her makeshift net, and started her own fire, currently preparing the meal herself.
His princess was full of surprises.
“You only get fish if you bought me something pretty like I asked,” she teased as he set the bag before her. She wasted no time tearing into the leather bag as if unwrapping a gift and retrieved the brown dress first.
“How long did it take you to start the fire?” he asked curiously as she examined her new attire.
“That’s not important,” she said, waving him off.
He smirked knowingly and Marilla pretended not to notice. It had taken her hours to figure out the rock technique Hayden had used, then to aim the spray of sparks in the correct place, then to keep the flame long enough to catch the wood, but what she lacked in talent she made up for with determination and eventually had a decent fire going. Enough to cook the fish at least.
“I’m going to freshen up in the stream before I put this on.” She turned her golden-brown eyes twinkling with mischief onto him, her face tilted and half-smile stretching one cheek. “Can I trust you not to peek?” she teased.
He returned her smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Princess.”
Marilla’s smile dropped into a scowl as she read into his teasing tone. Instead of commenting however, she turned her back quickly, her hair flipping as she walked towards the bank.
Hayden turned to face the fire, checking the fish with his back to the stream, leaning against the nearest tree since they were camping slightly within the cover of the forest. Not bad, he thought as he turned the fish. She had been diligent, turning the meat until it was cooked thoroughly.
As before, the fish were small but there were more of them. Some still sat uncooked tangled in the net that had once been a lacy see-through gown. She had improved greatly in just a day.
He heard a splash as Marilla bathed behind him, and again his mind wandered to her, remembering how beautiful her naked body had looked submerged in the water. He cursed himself.
He heard the water dripping onto the riverbank as she pulled herself from the water, heard the slide of fabric as she pulled the dress on. She came into view finally and Hayden swallowed. Her caramel hair appeared more like chocolate as it lay in bouncy wet curls around her face, her skin still glistening with moisture from the stream and the dress… he felt he had made the correct choice.
Marilla looked down at herself. She liked the brown, liked how it made her hair and eyes appear lighter, but it was made for a slightly shorter woman. The dress and its skirts draped to just above her ankle so she felt underdressed still, but not nearly as much so as wearing the filthy satin robe.
“Thank you,” she said graciously, twirling and letting the skirts catch the wind in a dramatic wave.
“It looks even more beautiful on you than I imagined, Princess.” She felt her cheeks heat, looking at him and returning his cool and easy smile from where he leaned against a towering oak tree observing her.
His eyes scanned from her face down to her feet. Then he frowned and beckoned her closer. Lightly so not to irritate the many scrapes and blisters along the soles of her feet, she obeyed and sat down next to him. Hayden dug into the bag and retrieved a jar of what looked like— “Is that honey?”
“Yes,” he said, uncapping the jar and reaching down to grab her foot. His warm fingers wrapped around her ankle as he gently brought one onto his lap, leaving her to adjust.
A prickle of tense heat tightened her core with anticipation as his rough, warm hands handled her aching foot with gentleness. He poured some of the honey over her foot, gently smoothing it over her many cuts. It burned, but she wasn’t about to complain. “Honey is good for splinters, blisters, and small cuts and scrapes. It’s a natural antiseptic to prevent infection, and somehow letting it sit removes surface splinters.” In a flash of white teeth, he unbound the knot that secured the ribbon on his right forearm and began unwinding the crisscross ribbon that bound his sleeve to him. When the black ribbon was off, he shoved up his sleeve and exposed an arm darkened by black arm hair covering several scars. She shuddered, more slick heat flooding the area between her legs and making her thighs tremble beneath the building pressure.
