Tilting Rose

Tilting Rose

By

Viola Grace

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Tilting Rose Copyright © 2007 Viola Grace 1-55410-981-7 Cover art by Martine Jardin All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by eXtasy Books Look for us online at: www.extasybooks.com

To every knight in shining armour who goes to work, comes home, plays with the kids, cleans the house, and still manages to do her nails. Well done ladies!

Prologue

“I

t is with the greatest sorrow that we commend the Lady of Raynal to the earth.” Three priests stood circled around the pyre, one for air, one for earth, and one for water. They moved as one, chanted as one. “We honour her for her sacrifice and mourn her loss.” Sobs from the villagers and craftsmen that surrounded them worked their way into Rose’s soul. “It was months ago when the plague arrived, carried by the merchant caravan who begged Lady Daisy’s aid. She helped those she could and eased the passing of those destined for darkness.” The priests intoned, chanted and moved around the pyre that her mother lay on. “We will miss her, weep for her, and regret her passage.” “A wonderful woman.” “An honoured lady.” Rose stepped forward, “A beloved mother.” Her childish voice broke. She held her brother’s cold hand and supported him through willpower alone. “A devoted nurse.” Tears seeped out of her 1

Viola Grace eyes, her calm and mature manner far beyond her years. Lord Abeno stepped forward and added his words with a voice broken by grief, “A loving and beloved wife.” Tears streamed unashamed from his eyes and he gripped the shoulders of his small children, squeezing a cough from his young son, Roth, who had risen from his sickbed to attend the funeral. They stood still as the villagers passed the pyre and wished them the best with kind words about the woman who had put the health of her people above her own. For months she had tirelessly worked to bring an end to the outbreak of disease that ripped through the population, and only last night had it claimed her own life. Before a fourth priest called fire, Rose put her first needlework on her mother’s hands. The still, chalky coldness of them needed to be covered. When she turned back to her father, he was cradling a shivering Roth against his body. She stood silently beside them, then threw her arms around her father and brother as fire was called to bring Lady Daisy to the earth. With a whoosh and crackle, flames consumed the Lady of Raynal. If only the village had not needed to gather 2

Tilting Rose again in seven days to mourn little Roth, in a silent and hidden ceremony. Perhaps then Abeno would have not descended into madness, confused by both his own survival, and that of his son’s twin sister. The small and sturdy Rose, the jewel of her mother’s eye and the thorn in her father’s side. After all, why should his son die, and his daughter live?

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Chapter One veryone held their breath. Even the fairies fluttering in the afternoon breezes paused to watch the collision of Roth of Raynal and Mathew of Songril. They had waited for this moment the entire tourney and now it was upon them. The two warriors waited for the signal and then spurred their horses into a pounding gallop down the course, their meeting inevitable. The thunder of hooves shook the ground. With each pounding beat, the contestants drew closer and closer. As the crash of contact sounded, one rider was thrown to the ground, his armour creating a symphony of discord as he skidded to an ignominious halt. His opponent continued on and handed the shattered lance to a squire. The shield followed suit. Lord Roth was triumphant again, and very sore. With a groan of pain she dismounted and staggered into the arms of her attendants. Rose

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Tilting Rose was exhausted. It was her fifth tournament in a year and she was glad it was over. This was the last win she needed to pay the taxes on her father’s estate. Her horse breathed laboriously, foam flecked his mouth, and she patted his neck. Stark was the perfect mount for her. Patient and protective, he often shifted his gait at the last moment to give her the advantage that she needed. He was the perfect partner in her scheme to take money from the very throne that was demanding their tithe after a year of dismal harvests. Raynal had many fine merchants and craftsmen, but they did not trade with other villages. Raynal was located between the domains of the Dragonlords and had only a mortal king to turn to. A smug descendant of the original king was now in position and draining his people dry. His confidence that all of his subordinates would be able to meet his ever-increasing demands, bordered on insanity. His Royal Highness, Geoffric the third, was even capable of seizing ancestral lands and handing them over to whatever lord had curried his favour—with or without a lord occupying them at the time. Paying the taxes was all they could do to keep his hands of their lands, and she had finally made 5

Viola Grace enough money for her father to keep the wolf from the door. “Sir Thorgard, I believe we are ready to go home now.” “You need to attend the awarding ceremony, Lord Roth.” She wrenched her helmet off and scowled at her second-in-command. “Why? Can’t we just collect the gold on the way out?” Unmoved by the scowl of his charge, Thorgard was adamant. “Not at this event. His Highness wants to shake the hand of his champion.” “Hells.” She scrubbed a hand over the grime covering her face. “Do I have to bathe first?” “Not necessary. The ceremony starts within the hour. You only have time to shed your weaponry.” Roth shook her head. “Paranoid son-of-a-bitch isn’t he?” They finally reached her travelling haven, and they entered the tent with some relief. It was nice to be out of the public eye. “You would be, too, if you had as many attempts on your life as he.” Thorgard watched carefully as she divested herself of her sword, three daggers, and her stilettos. The spurs on her boots would not count as weapons and Lord Roth could defend himself admirably with just them and her fists. Well, that and a wicked head butt that had turned the tables in more than one fight. 6

Tilting Rose Lord Roth beat the most obvious dust off her trousers and turned to her advisor. “So, I am respectable?” “Based on the number of fathers who are trying to interest you in their daughters, I would say yes. But appearance wise, I wouldn’t want to get too close to you. You look like you haven’t bathed in days.” She snorted, “I haven’t. It isn’t necessary for men to keep to a strict regime of cleanliness. It was the first lesson you taught me.” She dodged a fist aimed at her head. Rose tripped her friend and then helped to right him, “And your second was to never refer to the lord/lady factor. Even when we are alone.” “And yet you felt it necessary to do so because…?” “After this ceremony we are going home. For a while I can sneak away to be myself again.” “You know Lord Abeno would be furious if he knew that you indulged your ‘other side’.” “Which is why he won’t find out. He does not need to know.” Roth opened the tent flap and led the way to the grandstand. Her public was waiting to acknowledge its champion. She had best not keep it waiting. “Let’s get this over with.”

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Chapter Two

R

aynal was an estate that the Dragons had confiscated from the Warders. All of their properties were given to families that had lost someone in the attacks. Although the land was barren, the creative energies that emanated from the ground itself, more than made up for it. It attracted every kind of merchant and crafter, and they all flourished in the village that she called, home. Home had never looked so good. The tiny village outside the main keep was filled with those who had wished her nothing but luck before every joust. It was the village that had raised her, not one parent, but dozens. The green hills that surrounded the village became a setting for the quaint interior that was Raynal property. Tiny but neat thatched cottages lined orderly streets. The smithy sent a plume of smoke skyward at the end of the lane day or night. The tavern and bakery sat side by side in a snug 8

Tilting Rose partnership that worked for the couple who owned them. It was a well organized village that made her proud to be a member of the ruling family, and filled her with the few warm memories of her childhood. Lord Abeno’s daughter Rose was always seen running through the village with a toy sword, even before her strict training as ‘Lord Roth’ began. The village smith made her first dagger when she was ten, and it was certain that Abeno would not provide a lady’s education or protection for his daughter—she was to be a knight. The people of Raynal would not have their Lady be anything but the perfect knight. Armour was crafted carefully to conceal her feminine attributes as she grew. The local harlot, Sabine, taught her the art of makeup to conceal her lack of facial hair. Her hair was left long as most knights had hair that fell below their shoulders. She simply had to stop brushing it. The silky stuff soon snarled and locked up in a suitably masculine fashion, and she only shuddered when she woke up or went to bed and touched it. It actually provided a nice layer of padding when she put her helmet on before a joust, but it still drove her nuts. As she rode through and waved at the villagers, she smiled at those who had rounded out her 9

Viola Grace education. It was to spite her father that they had taught her the arts of a woman, and she had embraced those lessons as ardently, as she had the battle instruction. The activity around the keep seemed oddly subdued and Rose’s senses went into high alert. This was not normal, and she needed to be ready for anything. One of her pages ran forward to take Stark’s reins from her as she dismounted. Taking a deep breath she strode forward into the keep and into the great hall. It was as she remembered it. Oak tables and benches, with the Lord’s table across one end of the room. A few faded banners hung over it and swags of fabric denoted its importance in the otherwise sparse room. Her eyes adjusted in seconds and she focused on her father’s figure hunched over his beverage in the Lord’s chair. Rose grimaced as she realized that it wasn’t even noon and he was drunk already. Thorgard was close behind her and she could feel his disgust at Lord Abeno’s appearance as well. “Lord Abeno. We have returned.” She waited for a response. Bleary eyes finally looked up at her and he waved her to sit. “Well done, Roth. Your sister will be proud.” He nodded and drank deeply. 10

Tilting Rose Rose shuddered. He had begun to lose his grip on reality in the last few years. He thought that she was both her brother, as well as the Lady Rose. “I am sure she will be. Where is she?” “Off visiting relatives, or friends, I don’t remember.” He suddenly seemed to realize who he was speaking to. “Roth! I am so glad you have returned. Were you victorious?” She sighed and shook her head. “Yes, Father. I was victorious. We have returned with the taxes in tow. You need not fear the loss of our lands.” Abeno cackled and rubbed his hands together. “Excellent. But we don’t need the gold anymore.” She wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly. “What? We need to pay the prince his taxes. That was the whole point to my going from tourney to tourney—to get the money.” He howled in amusement. “There is a fool named Osgood, who will take your sister with nothing more than the clothing on her back.” Rose’s shock could not be more extreme. Her mind reeled. “Why will he take her?” “He wants her in trade for the taxes on our land. I don’t know how he found out about her.” Abeno looked conspiratorially at his ‘son’. “I think one of the servants sent a portrait of her around. Lucky for me Morino painted it, eh?” Yeah, lucky. Rose cursed the day that she had 11

Viola Grace given in to the artist’s request. She had donned a gown that Emily, the weaver and seamstress, had made for the occasion, and sat for hours in Morino’s studio as he worked to get the painting of her just right. He had also painted a few miniatures and she had been amazed that her features had shifted into echoes of her mother’s. She had taken one with her, but it had been lost at one of the tourneys. Leaning her head into her hands she asked her addled parent, “So, when will he come for her? How long is the engagement?” “He is on his way here to pick up the useless baggage. She will return tomorrow and I have told him to be here then.” Rubbing his hands together, Abeno turned to her, “It will be just you and me, my boy! Now we can concentrate on getting you a good wife.” Wouldn’t that just be fantastic. “Not yet father, I am not ready to settle down.” “Well, your time will come. In the meantime, tell Miranda to get her ass in the kitchen and to get dinner on the table.” “It’s lunch.” “Whatever. I want to eat!” He slammed his tankard onto the table and Rose got up with a sigh. As she stalked off to the kitchen she watched Thorgard leave and head out the great doors. 12

Tilting Rose The kitchen was everything that the main hall was not, warm and inviting and full of wonderful smells. The daylight crept in through a small window and was welcomed. “Hello, Miranda. I’m home.” The clatter of dishes that greeted her was gratifying. “Lord Roth! Have you heard?” Miranda ran forward to embrace her. It had been months since Rose had been home. “About Rose’s upcoming marriage? Yes I have.” She returned the hug, then pushed the cook and housekeeper back gently. Miranda’s face went from welcoming to serious. Rose used the tone that she used in battle when she needed information. “Now, how can I prevent it?”

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Chapter Three

H

er conversation with Miranda had been short and to the point. The betrothal agreement had been signed, the money exchanged and all that was left was for Osgood was to claim his wife. The instant that he did so, the contract was enacted and they were man and wife. Rose needed to think, and the best place for it was her sanctuary. After a bath. She retrieved her saddle bags from the stable before they could be brought to her chambers and removed what she would need. With her bag of clean clothing and soap tucked under her arm, she made her way through the brambles and undergrowth that hid her private bathing spot. Thorgard had the cottage and pool enchanted for her years ago. It gave her one place to be alone, to relax and to take a bath without blowing her secret. She didn’t know whom he paid to do it, but it had always been a welcome refuge for her when 14

Tilting Rose she needed to be Rose and not Roth. The small cottage loomed in the dim light, the flicker of the barrier illuminating the area for a second before allowing her into her haven. When it had first been erected, she had come here with two squires and a maid. It had only been herself and the maid who were able to pass, and the maid could only come through while carrying Rose’s clothing or possessions. It had satisfied her modesty and ever since it had become the one place she felt safe. It was as if the world around her ceased to exist as she passed that magical threshold, and she welcomed it. She needed time to think. According to what Miranda had seen, the marriage contract was signed and sealed. The money had changed hands, and the only event that had not yet passed was the handing over of the bride. Fantastic. She sighed and opened the door. Her only hope lay in convincing the knight that he did not want a wife who could out joust him. Rose checked the cottage for rodents or other occupants and was relieved to see that her maid had been there tidying up. Apparently her return was anticipated. She flipped the sack of clothes on the small bed and dug the soap and a hairbrush out of the pack. Drying cloths were in a chest at the foot of the bed. 15

Viola Grace She touched the matting of hair and shuddered, it was time to get rid of the rat’s nest on her head. With her supplies at the ready she opened the door and headed to her private haven. It was only a few yards to the pond and she placed her supplies carefully on a rock before stripping off her tunic, hose and support clothing. Steam rose gently from the water and she felt her lips curl in anticipation. It had been too long. With a raucous yell she leapt into the air and curled herself into a ball on her way down. The splash when she hit the water was tremendous. She held her breath as she sank slowly to the stone bottom of the pool, then uncurled and propelled herself to the surface. Breathing deeply of the damp air she moved to the rock where she had put the soap. Shivering slightly she sat at the side of the pond and lathered her body from the tips of her toes to the top of her scalp. She had to re-wet the soap several times and her eyes stung, but finally she was ready for the first rinse. The water closed over her head as she spun and scrubbed at the soap in her hair. The cleanser was fighting to penetrate the layers of grime, but she knew it would take several more sojourns with it for her hair to be really clean. Then the hard part would begin. She kept up her regime of scrubbing and 16

Tilting Rose soaking her hair until she could finally tug the strands loose into something less matt-like. As her fingers managed at last to dig to her scalp, she steeled herself for the ordeal to come. With her hands getting pruney and unable to avoid the inevitable, she hauled herself from the water onto the rock, and took up her brush. At least when she was at home, she need only dress like a man, she needn’t smell like one. Her arms ached by the time she had finished untangling the first half of her head and it was at that moment that she realized that someone had invaded her sanctuary. A man stood behind her and looked at her with an intense stare. She did not hide her body from him, but met his gaze. Instead of looking abashed or becoming more aggressive, he asked her, “It looks like you are having trouble. May I help you with your hair?” Nonplussed, she looked back at him for a moment then shrugged, “Certainly. Be warned, it has been a while since it was combed.” He approached soundlessly, alternately becoming one with and separating from the forest, the shadows and daylight flirted with him in turn. It was at that point she felt the slow spread of heat flood her cheeks. Gods, he was pretty. His hair was neatly braided at the temples to keep the silvery gold stuff away from his face, his eyes 17

Viola Grace were in shadow, but his mouth made her tingle just watching it. With his high cheekbones and sculpted jaw he seemed to be a combination of human and supernatural races. But, he was offering to brush her hair, so he couldn’t be all bad. He cleaned the remains of her early attempts from the brush, then sat comfortably behind her and began to tug and separate her thick locks. She decided to start a conversation. This was so surreal she could not believe it. “Did you happen to notice a barrier when you approached?” “I did.” “May I ask how you passed through it?” “I simply asked it to allow me to pass.” She could hear a smile in his voice. For some reason it relaxed her. “I have not seen you here before. Are you new to the area?” His hands were amazingly gentle. They seemed to untangle her hair at their very touch. “Yes.” He did not seem inclined to continue and she had a horrifying thought. “Are you with Lord Osgood’s party? Are they camped nearby?” “Yes. I was on a scouting mission when I stumbled across you in your little grotto.” With his grace it was unlikely that he stumbled anywhere. “Scouting for what?” “The Lady Rose will be returning soon, and 18

Tilting Rose Osgood wishes to greet her properly.” The brush was gliding smoothly through her hair by this point. He had accomplished in minutes what it had taken her hours to do. “She may not return as quickly as he thinks.” “Oh, no? Where is she?” “Visiting friends.” “Hmm.” He offered no more questions and she almost heaved a sigh of relief. He seemed to have no interest in her body, and he braided her hair away from her face as she sat and looked out into the dark of the forest. “Here is your brush.” He handed it to her and then surprised her by gripping her hand. She struggled for a moment, then remained still as he seemed solely interested in her calluses. “May I have my hand back, Sir?” She tried to be as prim as the ladies she had met in her time on the jousting circuit. “You have sword and shield calluses on your hands, Lady. How did you come by them?” He was almost glaring at her hand and when he looked into her eyes she was startled to see that he had starbursts around his pupils. She was right, he was an elf, or at least a half breed. The turquoise and blue of his iris absorbed her attention and it was with great difficulty that she recalled his question. He had begun to smile at her and the blonde and silver silk of his hair flowed over one 19

Viola Grace of the eyes in question. Her skin tingled and it was not just her scalp. Her entire body craved something and she was afraid that it was the touch of those sensitive fingers. “You are mistaken, Sir, they are marks from my time on the looms. I work with the weavers.” It was all she could think of, and she sighed with relief when he simply lifted one brow and accepted her explanation, releasing her hand. “Thank you for helping me with my hair. I can see where you got the practice.” She nodded to his own locks and smiled again as he shook his hair to send it flying around him. “It does take a while to get the hang of. But, once you learn how to braid the edges, the rest usually stays under control. I could teach you if you like.” His offer was in earnest. She could see that in the sincere set of his mouth, the direct gaze of his eyes. “I do not think we will meet again, sir. I will not be here when the Lady Rose returns.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. The dark scowl that crossed his features was proof enough that she should have kept her plan of escape to herself. “Then I will do what I have wished for since I first saw you.” Moving with lightning speed he gripped her arms and hauled her to her feet. 20

Tilting Rose Before she could gather her wits, his mouth closed gently over hers and teased emotions within her that she had previously rejected. Shocked by her own response, she simply stood with her head tilted to meet his mouth and waited for him to stop his kiss. It took long moments and she was fighting her impulse to caress his arms as he touched hers. When she swayed closer to him and her hardened nipples caressed his tunic, she gasped in surprise at her body’s reaction and stepped out of his reach—right into the pond. She fought her way back to the surface and came up to his laughing face. He held out his hand to her and she shook her head in denial. “I believe, Sir, that this is the sign that you should leave, and that I should get dressed and return to the village.” “That may be a good idea, Lady. I look forward to seeing you, should I make it into the village before the Lady Rose’s return. May I ask your name?” He bowed to her, and again she was astonished at his grace. His every movement was a dance. She felt a blush spread across her face and neck. “Daisy. My name is Daisy.” “Daisy. A lovely name for a lovely woman.” Another bow and he was gone. And she had not even asked him his name.

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Chapter Four

M

oving as quickly as she could, she dried herself and got dressed. The interlude in the pool had shaken her, and her sanctuary was invaded for the first time. It no longer felt like somewhere she could be alone, but did stir another reaction within her. A slow warmth, a feminine awareness she had ruthlessly squelched since she had reached maturity. Since it was Lord Roth who had gone to the pool, Lord Roth must return. Her breasts fought the bindings, her nipples still alert from their stimulation earlier. With the effort of long practice, she bound them tight. The curves of her hips were concealed with a similar binding, this one containing padding. It turned her torso into a smooth column. Not masculine, but not feminine either. It was enough to conceal her feminine curves from those who threw her more than a casual glance. 22

Tilting Rose Next, she tugged her tunic and hose into place, more padding in all the right places to create what was not there. When it came time to tie her hair back she had a problem. The braids that the scout had woven into her hair would not come undone. No matter how she tried to unravel them, they remained in her hair. Six braids confined locks from the front of her hair and thereby controlled the rest in a net of some sort that he had created at the back of her head. She had no doubt that it looked stunningly feminine, but Roth could not be wearing them. She tried tugging at them, working at them, and finally cursing at them, but they would not come undone. She grabbed the looking glass that she kept on hand for her Roth makeup. Her hair was indeed arranged very prettily. With tears welling in her eyes she drew her dagger and tried to saw off one of the braids. She could not go out looking like this. It would not cut. She turned the knife over and tried again. Still not one hair was damaged by the razor sharp blade. The bastard had elf-locked her hair! There was no way for her to have it undone, except by another elf. Damn him! As best she could she dragged her hair back into a ponytail around the braided details. She 23

Viola Grace wrapped it into the standard club of folded hair she normally wore at home and then started on her face. Smudges of charcoal and oil became her beard—a few dabs of minced hair. Her lack of true beard was merely put down due to off human breeding in her family’s history. Thick lines for her eyebrows, and dark circles under her eyes completed the look. On the way back to Raynal, to hide the braiding, she wore her cloak, its hood drawn up. Her first stop was the leather crafter. She needed a leather cap to wear until she could find someone to undo the braiding on her head. Herman supplied it gratefully to Lord Roth in support of her disguise. It fit snugly and was quite fetching. The extending brim gave her face a little more concealment than it would normally have had, and she kicked herself for not thinking of it before. The village was buzzing and she did not have to walk far to hear that Lord Osgood’s party had taken up residence in the keep, to wait until Lady Rose returned from abroad. It was quite a shock. They had not been scheduled to return until news of Rose’s arrival was delivered to them. She hated it when warriors made unexpected moves. It always meant that they were getting ready for a fight. She needed to find out what was going on from behind the scenes. 24

Tilting Rose She crept into the keep and through the doors to the main house. The knight’s party had arrived and were being served ale and meat in the dining hall. She peered around the corner trying to get a look at her prospective husband. It was no use. The men had their backs to her and there was a uniformity of station evident among them that was uncommon in a formal wedding delegation. She did recognize it as a common ideal in battle hardened groups. Rank only came into play during battle, where a clear chain of command was needed. Outside of that, it was common for the commanders to eat, sleep, and unwind with their troops. It showed a sensibility in her fiancé that he had the intelligence to treat those that his life depended on, with respect. Keeping to the background, she moved against the walls and up to her father’s private chambers. While he should be downstairs with his guests, he tired easily, and had more and more trouble keeping his mind in the present. The past was all he could recollect some days, and his staff kept a close eye on his color and eating habits. He was in good hands, but he was dying. Years ago his mind had begun its journey to the end, and now his body was catching up. He would not survive more than two years. It was a sad fact and every healer they had brought in for 25

Viola Grace him had said the same thing. He was old when he married Rose’s mother, forty years older than his new bride. She had become with child in a matter of months and died eight years later. He had never been the same since that fateful day. It was the death of his wife that broke him, the death of his son cementing the cracks in his mind. She entered her father’s rooms and was not surprised to see him in bed. His skin had taken on a hard yellowish hue and she knew that his earlier drinking had cost him. “Father. You may be aware of it, but Lord Osgood has arrived, with his warriors.” “I know it. I cannot rise today, so you, my son, will have to act as host until your sister deigns to honour us with her presence.” He lay back and kept his eyes closed. For just a moment, Rose wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. She was not his son, she had done everything he had ever asked of a son, but she was not, nor would never be, the male child he wanted to inherit his property. Roth simply bowed and left the room. The soft and occasionally boisterous noises of conversation and laughter led her back to the great hall where she took up her place as acting lord of the manor. “Greetings to the party of Lord Osgood. Please 26

Tilting Rose show yourself so that I may embrace you as a brother. For brother you will soon be.” Roth stood and kept her expression still and friendly as she recognized her companion from the pond. Apparently, he had been there scouting for Rose. “I am Osgood. Lord is a title given to me by my mother’s family. The elves have little use for such.” He bestowed one of his graceful bows upon her, and Roth bowed back, fighting the blood that rushed to her cheeks. “I would be honoured to call you brother.” They grinned at each other and clasped arms. A meeting of equals. “Have you eaten?” “Yes. Your housekeeper was most hospitable.” “Lord Abeno is unwell, and unlikely to be able to participate in any activities.” “He is dying.” To have it stated so baldly by a stranger, took her aback. “Yes he is.” She tried to gather her thoughts. “Would you be interested in a tour of the village? We have some of the finest artisans in the realm.” “So I was told. A tour is just what I need.” Osgood smiled and turned to a few of his men. With a small nod, four of the men rose from their seats and prepared to accompany them. Roth looked over to Thorgard and gave a slight nod as well and six men rose to their feet and took their 27

Viola Grace places near the door. “This way then, Osgood. Welcome to Raynal.”

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Chapter Five iving an intimate tour of the village, with ten men-at-arms following them, was a little disconcerting. It was as if she were performing for an audience and she had forgotten to put on her costume. It was all she could do not to check to make sure that her male clothing was in place. Her only comfort came in the fact that every person in the village wanted nothing but the best for her, they would help her all they could. “We will start the tour at the village well.” Roth had pitched her voice low, as she normally did when dealing with men, but the look that Osgood was giving her was suspicious. “It was dug by the Warders who owned this property originally.” Osgood filled in the rest of her tale. “And it was confiscated and given to the descendants of those who were killed in the Warder attack. Your family.” She was quite sure that she didn’t do a good job of hiding her shock. Roth replied, “Yes, my

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Viola Grace mother’s family received it in payment for losing all the men in their clan. She was the last of her line. My father accepted it as her dowry.” “Quite an extensive estate for a bride price. I hope Lord Abeno was pleased with his wife.” “He was very pleased, and I believe, very much in love. Until a plague swept through the village and it took her with it.” Shaking her head and changing the subject, “The next stop on our tour will be the weaver huts. This way.” Speaking over her shoulder she led the way, “The cloth woven in Raynal is famous. It has a depth to the texture that is unmatched in any portion of Realm.” “Do you know of a weaver named Daisy?” The smooth tone of his voice rippled over her and left goose bumps in its wake. “No, no one by that name works in the village. Or not that I am aware of.” Keeping her voice low and even was a chore, but she thought she had managed. Or that Roth had managed. “Ah, a pity. She was very fetching.” She was almost sure that he was taunting her now. She could feel his attention on her. It was almost palpable. There was a smugness to his expression, and a disconcerting tendency for his gaze to fix on her breasts beneath their coverings. “It is unusual for elves to take to military service. Why do you have so many in your 30

Tilting Rose number?” Going on the attack seemed like the thing to do as she walked into the weavers’ hut and nodded a greeting to the occupants. Osgood walked from loom to loom, admiring the weaves before speaking. “They are my father’s soldiers. I have trained with them since I was a child. Several of them chose to join me when I left to seek my fortune.” “Did you find it?” “No, but that does not mean I have stopped looking.” He crossed his arms and looked down at his guide. “Lovely fabric. Where to next?” “The inn and bakery. You may have had your repast, but I have not.” A grimace that passed for a masculine smile, crossed her face—she had practiced it for years—then she swung out the door and down the street to the inn and bakery to greet her friends. Ian and Emily had a symbiotic relationship that was not often seen in werewolves and nymphs. He ran the inn and tavern, and she baked all the bread for the village. The buildings were linked by a hallway and it was often Emily tended to the guests. They had been married for over fifty years and neither showed more than thirty of them. “Hello, Emily. Do you have something for me? I am starving.” It was not necessary to put a wheedling tone into her male voice. Emily knew she wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t necessary. 31

Viola Grace “Of course, young Lord. Have a seat and be welcome. Your companions as well. Can I interest you in some ale?” “You can get them a small beer. Nothing stronger. We are on a tour of the village.” She watched Osgood bow gracefully to the nymph in wench’s clothing. Fantastic manners. Even when the woman he was flirting with was naked. A blush tried to take over and she ruthlessly fought it back. The bowl of rich stew that appeared under her nose was far too tempting and she dove into it with enthusiasm. The bread that snuck into her grasp was heavily buttered and made for a fantastic counterpoint. Emily chuckled and spoke to her astonished companion. “When Roth was young we always kept a bowl of stew on the hob. No matter how much he ate, he never seemed to gain an ounce. We learned quickly to keep our fingers out of biting distance.” Roth chuckled, she had bitten Ian twice. He had been astonished to have her teeth slam down when he tried to take her spoon away to stop her from gorging. His werewolf reflexes had been no match for her teenage hungers. But surprisingly, he had tried his luck again a few weeks later. His middle finger still bore the scar. No one came between her and her food. 32

Tilting Rose “Won’t Ian join us?” Mumbled around a mouthful of stew it was amazing that Emily could understand her, but she did. “Not until you are no longer hungry. He doesn’t trust your teeth to keep to themselves.” She chuckled and brought the round of beverages to the men idling nearby. “I haven’t bitten him in years.” “Aye lad, but twice was enough.” The rough voice emanated from the kitchen and instantly the elves of Osgood’s entourage were at attention. If he had chosen to fight his brother, Ian could have been pack Alpha. He had instead moved to Raynal and opened a tavern. When Emily opened the bakery next door, both her scent and that of the baking bread had sealed his fate. He was in love. And one of the scariest looking individuals that Roth had ever seen. His fangs no longer shifted completely back to human, and his hair was wild at the best of times and horrifying in dim light. “Well, Ian. You did have it coming. If I recall you tried to clear my plate before I had finished.” “You were licking it. You were done.” His arms crossed over his leather jerkin, his yellow eyes crinkling with amusement. “Ian of the Swan’s Head Inn and Tavern, meet Lord Osgood, betrothed of Lady Rose.” If Osgood thought that being introduced to a 33

Viola Grace tavern keeper was beneath him, he gave no sign of it, rising to clasp the hand of the werewolf. “Betrothed to Lady Rose, eh?” He pinned the elf with a harsh look, “What do you know of our Lady?” The few locals who had been lurking in the shadows now leaned forward. Lord Roth finished his meal and leaned back. Osgood had everyone’s complete attention. Osgood remained standing and reached into his tunic. Smiling at his audience he drew out a miniature that Roth knew all too well. Morino’s work was unmistakable. “This is an accurate portrayal of your lady, is it not?” Osgood handed it to Ian and it was only by a visible effort of will that the wolf did not glare at her in astonishment. She knew what he saw. Morino had wanted to capture both her fierce nature and her femininity. So, it was a breastplate, skirt, vambraces and her hair. Roth’s shield was leaning against her thigh and she held a sword point-down in her right hand. The detail that Morino had managed to produce was amazing, but spider goblins were notorious for their dexterity. He had painted one large portrait that her father destroyed, and three miniatures. It had been her portrait that had gotten Morino banned from Raynal. Abeno would 34

Tilting Rose suffer no reminder that his son was actually his daughter. Roth had one miniature he carried. One remained in her seldom used chambers in the keep and the third had gone missing at a tourney over a year earlier. It was now obvious where it had gone. “It is indeed the lady of the keep. I have never seen her dressed in such a manner, but it is indeed her.” Picking up on her expression, “Where did you come by this?” “It was given to me when I expressed my desire to find a wife.” “By whom?” “I think I will keep that to myself.” He smiled and shook his head, “I was assured by my source that the Lady’s character was as beautiful as her portrait and I have had scouts nearby interviewing farmers to test the accuracy of those statements.” Scowls greeted his comments. No one enjoyed hearing that he was judging their lady. Least of all the lady in question. She kept her expression carefully blank and lightly amused. It was difficult. She wanted nothing more than to kick Osgood in his wellshaped shin and walk out. But as a man discussing the admiration of his sister, it may be over the top. The elf ticked off her attributes as he mentioned 35

Viola Grace them. “I have heard of the Lady’s healing and ministering to the sick, as well as her tireless efforts to institute all new modernizations in the village and surrounds. She has kept the local homes in excellent repair by luring thatchers and builders to Raynal, by offering them free housing and modest tithes. During lean times she makes sure that surplus food is distributed evenly amongst those who need it. All in all, she seems a lovely woman who has firm control of the hearts of her people. Who wouldn’t want such a woman for a wife?” The locals were satisfied with his information but Rose was astonished at how much her people had been willing to tell strangers. She felt oddly naked and exposed by listening to a summation of her actions. Her dual life was an open secret in Raynal. She had to wonder now how far it had spread.

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Chapter Six

W

ith her appetite sated, and her head spinning from the list of her attractions that were listed by Osgood, the rest of the tour took them by the tanner and the final stop of the smithy. In her guise as Roth she simply stood by as the elven lord quizzed the village smith on his armour creation techniques. It was all in vain. As a dwarf, Kald had no interest in the nattering of Lord Osgood. As a smith, and her friend, he would not give out any of the secrets of his trade, or her armour to this stranger. The special banding that she used to absorb shock was not an advantage that she wanted to share with the general public. It was only when she intervened, that Kald thawed in his attitude. “Kald here, made my first dagger. He gave it to me when I was seven. My first sword was made in this very smithy when I was thirteen.” She almost said when she had become a woman, but caught herself when Kald gave her a startled look. 37

Viola Grace “It has been my pleasure to serve the ruling family of Raynal.” “He has been a pleasure to have in our demesne. No smith-craft has been beyond him.” To her delight Kald blushed, his ruddy face flushing crimson. “Lord Roth is too kind. I have merely attempted to give service to the family that has been so generous to me and mine.” “I have seen the armour that you created for Lord Roth’s jousting tournaments. It is fantastic. A true masterpiece. The rose on the shield, is it enamel?” Kald was positively preening now. “No, it is red and green gold leaf. I retouch it every time Roth is back in the village, which lately has been infrequent. I hope that I will be able to make the necessary repairs to the armour before he leaves again.” The accusing glare he shot her was enough to make her smile. “Our smith is protective of my armour. It was his innovative design that allowed someone of my slight stature to become a champion. He created a system within the armour which takes most of the shock from the impact. It has worked exceptionally well.” Osgood looked as if a mystery had just been solved. Aware that she had perhaps said too much, 38

Tilting Rose Roth turned to lead them out. “Please take the freedom of the town and village for your own, and make yourself welcome at the keep. Until Lady Rose arrives, you are our honoured guest.” “When is she expected?” They were crossing the bailey and were on their way to the main doors of the keep. The red of the setting sun stained everything a shade of rose. Roth turned to Osgood and spoke honestly. “I don’t know when she is expected to return.” A twist of his lips, and he replied, “Perhaps I should simply ask her.” “You would have to find her first.” “Why? She is right here.” He gripped her by the shoulders and faced her directly. This close, his scent was distracting and the well shaped features of his face drew her attention. The starburst in his eyes held her spellbound and it was only when her new leather cap fell from her head that she recalled herself. “No! Stop!” Her fist rose to slam his hand away but it was far too late. The braids that he had locked into her hair earlier gleamed in the setting rays of the sun, and villagers in the courtyard froze in astonishment at the unmasking of their lady. Acting on impulse, she attacked. She felt her fist connect with his jaw as her leg swept out to take his legs out from under him. Appalled by her 39

Viola Grace actions she stood there, and watched him climb back to his feet and rub at his jaw. “I am sorry, Lord Osgood. I acted in haste. I apologize.” Her guardsman moved to stop Osgood’s as they tried to intervene. Now they formed a semi-circle at her back. “You have quite the right hook, Lady Rose. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” His bow was slightly stiff. Suddenly, she was unsure whether to bow or curtsy, so she simply inclined her head. “Welcome to Raynal.” She heard a mutter from behind her, “That was one hell of a welcome.” “Yes, thank you, Kald. Don’t you have something to hammer?” It was only by a severe effort of will that she kept from putting her hands on her hips. In a matter of minutes she had gone from masculine to feminine and was appalled at the change. “My Lady, may I escort you to the keep? We may continue this exchange with slightly more privacy.” He gestured to their audience and she nodded her assent. The entire courtyard was teeming with villagers, impersonating statues, gawking at the moment that was being acted out within their view. Suddenly Rose was tired. 40

Tilting Rose Tired of hiding herself, tired of the deception, tired of the pretence of being her dead sibling, weary of having everyone around her know a secret that could get her executed in certain parts of Realm, and sick of putting on the damned makeup and binding herself every day. Just tired. With her head bowed in surrender she led the way back to the keep, bemused as Osgood took her hand in his and lifted her calloused skin to his lips. He then settled her hand on top of his wrist and they promenaded at a stately pace. Two warriors in the sunset. She almost laughed, then realized that she now could, and let out a peal of mirth that rang in the dawning evening.

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Chapter Seven s they took their places within the great hall, Osgood turned to one of his squires and said something so soft that she didn’t hear it. When he turned back to her, she watched his fascinating eyes, as he seemed to be memorizing her face. It was only when the squire returned carrying a silver ewer and towels that she understood the earlier murmurs. It was to remove her makeup. “Would you care to reveal the beauty that I was privy to earlier?” He delicately soaped a washcloth and handed it to her. Shrugging, she scrubbed off the oils, stains, and charcoal that had made men look past her more delicate features for more than a decade. “Fine, but I am still not sure why you are here.” She began to scrub and rinse at her face and hands. “I have no interest in marriage and do not think I will make anyone a good wife.” Osgood sighed heavily and leaned back. “You are aware that your father only has possession of

A

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Tilting Rose this property as your mother’s dowry, correct?” “Yes. It was a condition of his agreeing to marry her, or so he has told me.” “That is not precisely accurate.” He had her full attention now. Miranda brought her some mulled wine and stopped when she saw her Lady’s face uncovered for the first time in years. “My lady.” She looked over at Osgood then back to Rose quickly, “When did you return?” “It is alright, Miranda, he knows about my duality.” Mulling it over she turned to Osgood, “That reminds me, how did you manage to get into my bathing pool? No one has been able to get in before.” “They probably were not the ones who cast the barrier then.” He smirked at her and sipped at the wine that Miranda had brought. She was speechless for a moment and he continued his earlier talk of her mother’s dowry as if nothing had been said. “Your mother’s family received the property as repayment for the Warder’s attack. The men of her family were killed by the Warders and the Dragon Council gave this land to the surviving members of the family. The family’s own land had been rendered infertile.” “I know this.” “Do you know that the land was given to the women, and not the men of the family? It was 43

Viola Grace passed down from oldest daughter to oldest daughter upon marriage or birth of the first girl.” “What?” Her harsh whisper echoed in the hall as everyone had quieted to hear what they could. “But that would mean…?” “That you are the natural heir to this property. Whoever marries you, gains Raynal.” “But my father…” “Was aware of this and when your brother died he took steps to hide you from the Prince and the courts that would lay claim to this property. The Dragon lords may have even tried to reassign this property. So, Rose needed to remain alive and travelling, but Roth needed to make coin jousting.” “They couldn’t take this property. Not while my father was alive.” Her mind reeled, trying to make sense of the information she’d just learned. “They could if they married the only remaining woman of the line of Marigith. According to the decree of the Dragon lords, once the lady dies, her husband and son lose all rights to the land. Only her daughter can inherit. This was the means that the dragons used to make sure that the heirs would come to no harm. It ensured that no man would abandon his wife and daughter, because his own wealth was tied to them.” “So, you are telling me that my father has not been Lord of Raynal for the last eighteen years? 44

Tilting Rose That it has been mine all this time?” Hysterical laughter lurked in her tone and she fought it back, keeping her expression calm by digging the nails of her left hand into the palm of her right. “The only right that he has is to arrange your betrothal, and he has given into his failing health and finally agreed to my suit.” One word caught her attention, “Finally?” “A proposal of marriage was sent to Lord Abeno seven years ago. After you won your first tournament in Wylak.” A rueful smile crossed his fair features. “You unhorsed me after two passes.” “You knew then I was a woman?” “All the non-human races knew. Your scent gave you away.” “But, all these years… Why has no one said anything?” “We learn very early that you don’t tell the humans anything. They won’t listen.” He winked at her and took her hands in his, smoothing the gouges in her palm that she had created. “They do things that we don’t understand.” She felt a burst of warmth in her palm and was startled to realize he was healing her. “And some that we understand all too well.” The warmth cascaded through her body and she felt herself drawn to him. As if in a dream she saw herself rising and circling the table. Her mind fought the soft fog, but to no avail. She was caught 45

Viola Grace in his glamour. Suddenly there was a flash of silver and she was free. She sat heavily on the rush strewn floor. Thorgard stood near Osgood with his blade at the elf’s throat. “No glamour, fairy. That was not part of the arrangement.” So, Thorgard was in on it. Her sense of hurt was tempered with wry amusement as she now knew his ‘source’ of information, and the miniature. It also explained how Thorgard was able to find someone to enchant her sanctuary. Her downfall was in the works for some time. “Lower your blade, captain, or lose your head.” More sparks of silver and the elves were holding off her guard with a blade in each hand. “I was merely telling the Lady Rose that I could have brought her to me at any time. I want her to learn to trust me before we begin our lives together.” “Enough, Thorgard.” She stood, pulled the blade away with two fingers, and put herself between them. “He was able by some manner to make it through to my bathing pool. He acted with honour there, and was only demonstrating what could have happened.” Finally, the fact that she was the hostess kicked in. “Miranda, ale, and sweets for dessert, and food for any who wish it. Today is a new day at Raynal. We need a small celebration.” An idea was also forming on how to deal with 46

Tilting Rose her father. She needed to get him round the clock care, but he would not leave while he was Lord Abeno. So, that was about to change. Steeling her nerves, she walked out of the great hall, causing consternation at her abrupt departure. She stormed into her father’s rooms and was unsurprised to see him up and reading a tome on battle tactics. “Lord Abeno, you are not well and you will proceed at dawn to the hospital at Kaline. There, the healers and attendants will be able to do for you what you will not allow to be done here.” He had always fought to stay in charge. Now she was simply taking it away. “Who are you? You are not Roth? Who are you?” Confusion mired his eyes and her heart moved to pity. “I am your daughter, Rose. I have always been your daughter, since the death of my mother and brother. I am all you have. And you have thrown me away.” She left him befuddled, then ordered one of the hovering servants to spend the night watching over him. He was not to try and harm himself or leave the keep. It was all they could do. She informed his ‘guard’ of the preparations for the trip the following day and told him to wake Abeno early for his journey. Instead of returning to the great hall, she went 47

Viola Grace to her room. Rose’s room. It had been closed for years, but the maids still slipped in when they could, dusting and tidying. Today someone had left firewood and uncovered the window. There was something new in the room. It was a new addition. A beautiful gown of blue and grey, embroidered with silver threading, lay across her bed. She almost wept when she saw it. Never in her life had she owned such a dress, and it must have been her betrothed who had it made. Absentmindedly she removed her clothing, sighing with relief as the padding and binding dropped to the floor. It was the moment where she felt truly herself. When she had no clothing on at all. After she had stripped herself she felt the cold in the room and moved to make a fire, working until the bright and cheery flames were dancing on the hearth.

The flames were at her back when Osgood came in to check on her.

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Chapter Eight

S

he saw his face change colour. He had already seen her nude, and he still blushed. “I am sorry Rose. I did not know you were…” “Naked, undressed, a true brunette?” It was far too late to cover herself, so she simply flipped a good portion of her hair over her breasts and challenged Osgood to meet her eyes. “I was concerned. Your father came down ranting that his daughter was mad and his son needed to control his sister.” “I told him I was sending him to Kaline.” Respect and surprise lit his eyes. “That is an excellent idea. He would get the care and no longer be a danger to himself.” “That was my thought.” He looked at his feet. “I thought you left because of the glamour I used on you.” “No, as you pointed out, you could have used it at any time. You didn’t. That showed honour.” She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Why 49

Viola Grace exactly did you want to marry me? Is it the land, the property? The craftsmen that I have lured here?” He did not answer her with words. In an instant she was in his arms, and then his smooth lips were caressing hers, coaxing them to open. She leaned her head back to facilitate the kiss and smiled against his lips when she didn’t have to tilt far, their heights being closer than she had first guessed. When her lips parted and he swept his tongue in to tangle with hers she growled in response. It was not a maidenly growl. It was hunger and wanting something she had only heard about from whores and warriors. Her belly heated and a warmth bloomed between her thighs. The wetness that began to seep out was startling and she broke the kiss. As she pulled her head away, he moved his mouth to her neck, nuzzling and nipping at the soft column of skin. Shivers ran down her spine, her flesh craving the satiny touch of his lips. She had never known how sensitive her neck was, but just having him against her, trailing his mouth against her jaw, weakened her knees. Rose clutched at him and her fingers tangled in the folds of his tunic. Muttering to himself, he quickly peeled it off and dropped it at her feet. Without the fabric to conceal it, the ridge in his 50

Tilting Rose hose showed that his interest in her went far beyond her property. He wanted her. Her body against his. Nothing more. The heat in his eyes spoke it truer than words. She thought about it for a moment and came to the conclusion that taking him as her first lover would not be such a bad idea after all. He certainly had the necessary enthusiasm. With that decision made she stepped back into his arms and rubbed her breasts against the smooth plane of his chest. His eyes closed as she dragged her nipples in slow circles up and down across his ribs. Her pulse beat faster and she felt a wet heat make itself evident between her thighs. Bemused, she paused. It was her cessation of movement that brought him out of his reverie and Osgood took her by the hand and led her to the bed with slow ceremony. His sudden formality surprised her, but she got into the bed regardless. Satisfaction was stamped on his face as he looked her over from the tips of her toes to the elaborate braiding on her head. No detail was too minor, and as he noted the myriad scars on her arms and ribs, he leaned in to kiss every one. First his lips feathered along the pale stripes, then his tongue traced them with delicate worship. By the time he had reached the scar on her right breast she was twisting and moaned softly. It was not a sound she had heard herself make before. 51

Viola Grace When his tongue lapped at the peak of her breast a mewling cry broke from her throat. Unbidden, her fingers tangled in his hair and held his head against her as she arched into him. When the sensations had built to a burning pulse in her cunt she tugged his hair and moved him over to suckle at the other nipple. Under his gentle assault her hips rose to rub against him with instinctive insistence. Rose finally snarled and wrapped her legs around him to pull him to her. The layer of fabric between them dampened under her gyrations. He rocked against her, lifting his head to watch her face as he sought contact on a certain spot. She didn’t know what he was looking for until he found it, then she gasped for air as it whooshed from her lungs on a gasping cry. She tensed against the sensation, but as soon as she relaxed, he rocked again, and she squealed in surprise. On the third time her world shattered and her nails dug into his arms. She widened her eyes to the light burning through her vision, her body arched against him. Stars blew through her sight as her thighs tightened into a vice to hold him. He held his position, moving slowly to draw out her aftershocks until she fell back on the coverlet, limp and sweating. He was nuzzling at her neck again and she heard him murmur, “I knew everything about you 52

Tilting Rose would be strong, my love.” Then he began the journey to arouse her senses once again. This time his hands stroked endless patterns across her skin, waking nerves that she had thought deadened by years in armour. He kneaded her shoulders, stroked the biceps that she had worked so hard to bring to their current state, and wove his hands through hers. As their fingers tangled, she smiled and leaned up to kiss the mouth that hovered temptingly near. This time her tongue darted between his lips and he opened his mouth to her with a groan as she drew one foot slowly up the back of his thigh and pushed his hips into hers. With a muffled curse he withdrew and left her to scramble off the bed. She was confused, until his hands went to the laces of his hose and he fought free of boots and fabric. His cock was long, hard and pointed directly at her, a pearl of fluid oozing from its tip as he looked at her as if he was memorizing the sight of her splayed thighs and welcoming arms. “Come back.” Her hoarse whisper echoed loudly in the stone chamber and he moved instantly to comply. His grace deserted him as he fell onto her, tripping over his own clothing until he landed heavily on the bed. A rich chuckle broke from her and she kept giggling until he crawled on top of 53

Viola Grace her and his cock was nudging at the entrance to her womb. The slickness from her earlier climax aided him as he inserted the scalding head of his cock into her and pushed lightly. Over and over he pushed, working in a fraction of an inch at a time. She grasped at his shoulders and met his gaze as he slowly moved into her. She flinched slightly as something within her gave way, a light pressure and a sharp flare that faded quickly. She thought that she felt a certain heat within her, suspecting that his healing talent was not confined to his fingers. When he was finally fully seated within her, he began to shift and draw himself almost all the way out, and then surged back in. She found her breath timing itself to his thrust and withdrawal. Each slick, hot shift drove the air from her lungs as her body flared around him. His gaze was entirely focussed on her. If she closed her eyes, he waited until she opened them again to stare into his starburst eyes. She was looking into those eyes as her climax washed over her. She cried out softly and twisted beneath his body as he began to thrust heavily to take his own release. Moments after she had lapsed into exhaustion, he shuddered and spilled into her. He collapsed on top of her, his sweat mingling with hers. 54

Tilting Rose His silvery hair covered them both and she could only imagine the tangle that it would be in after her fingers had been tugging and weaving into it. With a regretful sigh she shoved at his shoulders to get his wonderful weight off her body. She shoved a little too hard and he flipped onto his back, and almost the floor. Laughing, he moved to spoon against her back. “We will talk more in the morning, love. Now sleep, you have had a long day.” With her mind empty and her body sated she squirmed against him lightly to get more comfortable. She felt cosy, comfortable, and protected. It was definitely a new experience for her. That made twice that he had called her ‘love’. Perhaps there was more to his story than he was telling her. No one fell in love after being knocked out in a joust. Did they?

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Chapter Nine

M

orning crept through her window and she luxuriated in the feel of a bed, and not ticking under her. Something was different from the last time she had lain there, and it took a moment for her to put it together. There was a masculine arm around her waist and sticky musky residue between her thighs. She and Osgood had had sex. And it was good. Her soreness was minimal, probably due to all her years on horseback. If she could straddle Stark for hours at a time, straddling the elf was not a problem. That put an image in her head that she would have to try another time. She wondered idly if he would be willing to let her take the dominant position. Absently, her fingers began to trace the line of his knuckles where his hand rested on her belly. When the fingers tightened she knew he was awake. “Morning, Osgood. Are you planning on letting 56

Tilting Rose me go anytime soon?” She tried to pry his hand off her belly and was unsuccessful. “Not in this lifetime. I like you right where I have you.” He lifted her with one arm and moved the other under her. Rolling, he lifted her on top of him, obviously amused at her peals of laughter. “I do not think that this is a practical position for me to be in, I mean, how will we eat?” She tried to keep her voice calm, but the amusement broke through. A second later she was on her feet at the side of the bed and he rose to stand next to her. “You have a valid point there, wife. And on that note, I am rather hungry.” Shaking her head, she moved to the over to her clothing near the fire and moved to put on her breast wrap. “You won’t be needing that anymore. In my first official act as your husband, I deny you the men’s clothing that you have worn all these years. You must always dress as a lady, even when battling in the courtyard with the men.” “Always as a lady? I don’t have the clothing for that.” She was mollified by his mention of her sparring. “You will. I have brought a selection of clothes from my family’s home. They should fit you fairly well.” “You had them prepared? How long have you 57

Viola Grace been planning this?” He looked at her, still blissfully nude. His erection grudgingly agreed to be bound behind his hose, but was still very visible until he put on his tunic, the loose draping hiding his arousal. “I knew that my suit would be agreed to, due to your father’s financial situation. So this was the time for me to prepare for you to be my wife. I had clothing, jewels and shoes made up, as I was aware of your lack of feminine attire.” “My father’s money shortage was that well known?” “I had my sources.” “Right. Thorgard. But how did you know I wouldn’t run?” “You are an honourable woman. You would not shame your family by refusing my suit.” She snorted at her own transparency. “You are right. Now, where is the dress that was here last night?” A few moments of rummaging in the sheets and she had found it. Unsure of whether to pull it up or over she looked at him in distress. “I think I may need a maid if this is to be my method of dress.” A kind chuckle emanated from him and he took the dress from her to help her. It did in fact drop over her head. With a few short tugs he had draped the gown around her and was looking at 58

Tilting Rose her as if she was suddenly dipped in gold and diamonds. “You, my Lady… are beautiful. I can’t believe how lucky I am that no man has bothered to pierce your disguise. You would have been overrun with suitors.” He took her hands in his and left a gentle kiss in each palm. Bemused, she sat on the bed, while he put the matching slippers on her feet. By law, the instant her father had signed the paperwork she had become Osgood’s wife. She would never have lain with someone who had not had the sense to speak to her father. When he stood and held out his hand, she placed hers in his on reflex. The drag of her skirts was distracting. In fact, if he hadn’t been holding onto her, she would have pitched head-first down the stairs as her gown crept under her feet with amazing stealth. “You need to raise the hem of your skirt an inch or so while going up or down the stairs, Rose.” She pressed her heated face into his tunic, where he held her to steady her after her stumble. Miranda stood at the base of the stairs looking up, an expression of astonishment on her face as her mistress descended. “The Lady of the keep at last,” Miranda said softly. “Milady. You look wonderful.” She had a feeling that it was the first compliment of hundreds that would be heaped 59

Viola Grace upon her this day, but it only served to make her cranky. She knew she looked good, Osgood’s expression said it all. “I look like a stork in a dress. Is there anything ready for breakfast?” Blood had rushed to her cheeks, heating her face. She felt beet red, and knew she’d look flushed for a while. “Yes of course. Please, take your seats.” She waved them off to the two chairs ruling over the hall. Normally her father was there, but her intuition said he was sulking in his room. All eyes were on them, Osgood’s men smiled and elbowed each other in a manner that bespoke their pride in his success at wooing the lady. Her men were looking at her as if they had never imagined that her body had curves that would make them wish she had been more amenable to getting drunk with them. When Miranda brought the food it was a welcome distraction. Coddled eggs, fruit and fresh bread started the meal, roasted fowl completed the breakfast. She ignored Osgood’s efforts to tempt her into trying some of his food and ploughed through her own. The lover’s gesture was lost on her, she didn’t share her food with anyone, and did not expect anyone to share with her. He finally tried to take her eating prong out of her hand and got slapped for his efforts, causing the men to snicker. “You should know Osgood—it 60

Tilting Rose is not wise to step between me and my meals.” Rubbing his hand and grinning, he asked, “Why is that?” “My father decided that to be a man, I needed to hunt for my own food for six months. Our property also borders on that of the property belonging to several wolf clans. It was enough of a struggle for me to hunt for my own rabbits and quail, but to keep them from the adolescent wolves was almost impossible.” She tore off a chunk of bread and continued, “So, I begged food from the tavern and then ran back to the woods until my father sent a guard for me every day. It was the hardest six months of my life. It became a cycle when I began my training as a squire as well, the rest ate and I had to hunt for my food. I eat quickly because it became a habit. I protect my food because it was often taken, and I eat a lot because I am never sure when I can eat again.” She finished and rinsed her hands in the bowl between them. Osgood looked shocked. So did his men. It was only then that she noted that the room had fallen silent. “How old were you when you began to hunt?” “I was ten I believe. It was shortly after my mother died.” She noticed a new light of awareness come over the elf. His men had stopped laughing and no one 61

Viola Grace was eating anymore. “Osgood, don’t let it concern you. It is in the past, but my habits are hard to break.” She laughed ruefully, “I know, I have been trying. Eating like a ravening beast does make dinner conversation difficult.” She ran her hands down the sides of her gown and smiled as his eyes tracked the movement. “If you are finished your meal, we had best go introduce everyone to the new lord and lady of the keep. I know they have been waiting for a moment like this.” “I would love nothing more. But, tell me. Why do you have a tower attached to your keep? There does not seem to be a reason for it.” “Ah, we will make that the first stop then. That is Tonio’s territory. He wanted a tower, so I let him build one.” She rose gracefully and took the hand that he extended to her. “Who is Tonio?” A hint of jealousy coloured his tone and she blinked in amazement. “You will see. This way.” Slowly they sauntered through the keep, greeting the servants and trades people. A five minute walk took close to an hour as they were stopped for congratulations and hugs for the bemused new lord. She gathered he had not expected such a reception. By the time they arrived at the base of the 62

Tilting Rose tower, he’d had physical contact with seventy percent of her staff. It seemed like everyone had a reason to be in the keep this day. In the hall to the laundry, it was almost comical to see William the cooper shaking Osgood’s hand—the last time he had had his clothing washed was during the last good rain. As they began to climb the stairs she explained, “Tonio is a sorcerer. He was born to a baker in the next village and has the talent of magic. He simply lacks…focus.” Smiling she put one foot in front of the other, while with her free hand lifting her skirt a few inches, and the other still on his wrist. “What kind of focus is he seeking? I know a thing or two about magic.” Her peal of laughter rang through the stone halls. “I have no doubt. But you will have to experience Tonio to understand.” Finally they reached the apex of the tower and entered the sorcerer’s lair. Well, his home. Actually, his mess. “Morning, Tonio!” Her call echoed off the glass flasks and reverberated within the mineral samples on the tables. “Oh, Lady Rose! I heard that you turned back into a woman. Now, if I could learn the art of transformation, I could make you a fortune.” A male in his early twenties, wearing a robe stained with a variety of substances, stumbled out from 63

Viola Grace behind a column of smoke. He had the distracted air of a genius, but with one hand dyed a vivid green and a third eye blinking from between his brows, his competence was certainly not evident. “Tonio, this is the new lord of the keep. Lord Osgood. Osgood, this is our local sorcerer, Tonio.” Tonio’s third eye blinked rapidly, betraying his flustered mood. “My Lord, it is a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed clumsily and then stood back for the elf’s close scrutiny. “What spell were you casting when your extra eye appeared?” Osgood’s businesslike tone caught Rose by surprise. Tonio immediately darted back into his workspace and grabbed a chunk of crystal. “I was attempting to enchant this rock for scrying the future.” “That is a rose quartz.” “Yes. Pretty, isn’t it?” “That stone is generally used for love and serenity. It is not a scrying stone, nor will it hold a charge of magic. Your spell bounced and struck your skull.” Delighted by the knowledge of his new lord, Tonio peppered Osgood with questions. Rose took a seat at the window and sat looking out over her property feeling pensive. She had a partner now, whether she wanted him or not. Osgood was her husband and she 64

Tilting Rose could not change it. She looked at him and viewed his tight backside. A wave of heat ran through her, and as if he sensed it, he turned to look at her. Alright, she did want him. Or part of him.

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hen they left Tonio’s tower, he had the correct number of eyes and promised not to use his raw power for spells without the supervision of either Lord Osgood or one of Osgood’s elves. “Where to next, my Lady?” Osgood was in a good mood. The reception by her people was obviously more than he had expected. “I thought to bathe. It has been an eventful few days.” “Excellent notion. Shall you have water brought to your quarters?” “Why? It is a burden for the servants to have to haul that water upstairs after heating it. Their labour could be better spent.” Walking in a skirt was getting easier, but she almost regretted not stumbling and having him hold her again. “I bathe at the spring where you first saw me. Oh, and will you un-elflock my hair?” “Why? It looks lovely. And it will keep it from forming that rat’s nest that I first saw you with 66

Tilting Rose seven years ago.” She touched one of the braids. “It still feels like an owner’s mark.” “It wasn’t meant as anything other than a convenience. I can change the style if you wish. I am only trying to save you on brushstrokes.” They crossed the bailey, discussing her hair. It all felt slightly surreal. With an impish urge that surprised her, she bumped her hip into his, and he stumbled off to one side, then came back and bumped her in return. By the time they had left the enclosure and walked through the village they were lightly shoving at each other and laughing like loons. She ruthlessly took advantage of his restraint to tip him into shrubs and nettles. The barrier around her private sanctum snapped firmly into place with more force than she had ever felt. It led her to suspect that he had more to do with her privacy than she had ever imagined. She flipped her slippers off and yanked her gown over her head as soon as she saw the dancing lights on the water, calling her. Shrieking as she felt a warm hand cupping her backside, she ran to the water and jumped in. She surfaced with a smile still on her face and treaded water as Osgood disrobed. His clothing 67

Viola Grace bore the telltale signs of her impact with the water and as he peeled his tunic off to expose the planes of his chest, her laughter stopped. So did her arms, and she only began to move them when she had to sputter and stroke to regain the surface. When he untied his hose and removed them she held her breath, his erection dark in contrast to the paler flesh of his belly. She had longer to look than she would have imagined. As she stared, the size of his cock steadily increased. He preened for her, allowing her to take her fill, to admire his body at leisure. Her attention powered him. She didn’t know how or why, but she felt a connection between them that flowed deeper than contracts and honour. When she shook her head to clear it, he dove smoothly into the water. She looked around and waited for him to surface, getting more agitated as he still did not come up. A light touch between her thighs made her flinch and swim backwards, but two strong hands gripped her legs and pulled them apart to expose her secrets to the cool water. She felt it enter her, then followed swiftly by the heat of his mouth and she gasped and fought for control of her limbs. Her peak came sharply. The entire morning before this moment, had been naught but foreplay. That she was aroused simply by his nearness 68

Tilting Rose during the day, surprised her, but she welcomed the sensations as she melted into him. That was, until she found herself sinking below the water and breathing was no longer an option. As she sank, he surfaced, carrying her with him. She wrapped her thighs around him as they came up for air and they broke the surface laughing and gasping. His slightly pointed ears were obvious when his locks were wet and his magnificent eyes drew her in to the depths of his soul. She leaned into him, giving her safety up to him, trusting him to keep her afloat. The kiss was sweet, the kiss of love, lust and warmth. It shook them both, then brought them to join their bodies once more. A blunt probing of his cock between her thighs was acknowledged by her body with a flood of heat, and she welcomed the slow invasion with a gasp. Slowly she rode him as he flexed and retreated within her. It was both relaxing and stimulating at the same time. She never knew that her body was capable of such sensations. She knew battle, how to move and strike an opponent, how to grip a horse so that they moved as one, but to make two beings this close with a simple contact, that managed to be extraordinary, was a revelation. Without being able to use leverage it lasted a lot longer than their previous encounter—the steady 69

Viola Grace rise and fall of their bodies in the water heating her blood and warming the water. When she shuddered and moaned in his arms, he drew in a deep breath and took them to the bottom of the pond, using his legs as a spring to drive deeply into her and pushing them back to the surface again. The instant that he rammed into her, her spasms began increasing her demand for air, and caused her lungs to ache with the urge to scream. She controlled her body’s frantic demands until the moment she felt the air on her flesh and then she screamed her release to the surrounding trees and moss. His roar of triumph had the local birds flying for cover. They clung together weakly as he moved them to the stones on the side of the pond, lifting her onto the sun kissed rocks before hauling himself out beside her.

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Chapter Eleven he next ten days were newly-wedded bliss. They attended to the needs of the keep and village in the mornings and afternoons, sneaking away to her sanctuary for a bath and to make love in the bright light of day at every opportunity. Then the messenger arrived. Osgood was in the smithy with Kald, so Rose greeted him in the main hall. “I was told to bring this to the ruler of Raynal.” He held out a scroll, his sneer evident and she simply held out her hand to take it. He still would not hand it over. “Are you his leman then? No wife would dare to intercept a missive from Prince Geoffric.” This was getting tiresome. “Give me the missive. Lord Osgood and I rule here as equals.” A smug grin settled over his pasty features. “No. I will not hand it over to a mere woman.” She smiled. This would be fun. “Then I will simply take it.” Striking like a snake, she moved

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Viola Grace forward, gripped the scroll, and kicked his legs out from under him. He released the missive and she stepped on his hand as she returned to her chair near the fire. Foaming with fury he stood, then charged her. She moved out of his path at the last moment as she read the scroll. Apparently Geoffric was making his rounds, collecting his taxes and viewing the properties to make sure enough tax had been levied. She gripped a broom and beat the messenger as he kept attacking her during her reverie. She was using the straw head of the broom and one foot to keep him pinned to the floor as she worked over what she had read. The taxes were ready for Prince Geoffric, but what else he would decide to take was unknown and he was famous for being a greedy ruler. “Rose? Are you alright?” Osgood approached her with caution. He had run to the keep from the smithy, his face flushed and tunic askew. His wife in battle mode was obviously not what he expected to find. “Yes. I am fine. I was just reading this note from Prince Geoffric. He arrives tomorrow and wishes to have you give him a tour of the property. Just to make sure we have not missed anything in our declaration.” “Uh, yes. But I was more curious about the man 72

Tilting Rose you are standing on.” “What? Oh, yes. Sorry.” She removed her foot and retracted the broom, leaning it against a wall near the hearth. “He was being difficult.” “You crazy bitch! Prince Geoffric will have your head for this insult to his messenger!” “Better men than him have tried.” Rose crossed her arms over his breasts. Osgood couldn’t decide whether to laugh or worry as the messenger limped out and headed for his horse. With a sharp jerk of his reins the messenger wheeled his horse and galloped off through the doors of the keep. This was going to be trouble for Rose. She just didn’t know it yet. Her green eyes still showed the flaring anger that had possessed her when she brought down the messenger. The open neckline of her gown almost distracted him from his purpose and her pouting lips were pursed in indignation. His Rose needed to be distracted. “Rose, Kald has some new sparring armour for you. He would like you to try it on. It will allow you to wear a skirt while riding if you wish.” It was a lure to get her out of the keep so that he could make some plans for the inevitable challenge that Geoffric would make. One did not assault a royal messenger and not suffer the 73

Viola Grace consequences. The next day dawned bright and cold. With Rose at his side, he waited to face the challenge of his authority in this province. It would not be long in coming. With a sounding of horns, Prince Geoffric arrived, his entourage preceding and following him as the horde entered the small bailey. “Where is the man who dared to beat my messenger?” were the first words out of the prince as he dismounted. “The man? Prince Geoffric, you have been misinformed. The one who beat your messenger was my wife, Lady Rose. The true leader of this people and the true ruler of Raynal.” He watched as Rose executed a graceful curtsey and tried to look small and feminine. It was quite a task as she was neither petite, nor graceful, yet he wished for nothing more than to look at her wealth of waist-length hair and the cute cleft in her chin. “You?” the prince said, sneering. “A woman did this to a man who simply offered to deliver my missive? You could not just take it and leave him to his own devices?” Osgood watched the man’s expression change as the prince scrutinized Rose from head to toe, and answered through tight lips. “He refused to 74

Tilting Rose give it to her. And as she is a ruler of this land in her own right, by birth, it was well within her rights to take the scroll from him. Especially after he called her a whore.” Geoffric was now on the base of the steps staring at Rose with open appreciation. “This woman is a lady, and no whore, and I apologize on behalf of my messenger.” From Rose’s mouth came the words Osgood had hoped she would not utter, “I challenge him to trail by combat. He may choose a champion from your entourage if he wishes, but his insults will be answered with steel.” Her expression was placid, but he was not convinced that she could win against battle hardened warriors. “It would be beneath him to go to a champion for his own insult. He will meet you in battle or in a skilled challenge.” “Has he ever tilted?” “He has indeed been trained in it. And it will be a much more fair fight. All grace and dexterity. No muscle to muscle.” The prince mulled it over, “Yes. Tilting it is. At noon, in the great courtyard. Have the tiltyard set up.” “It is ready. We use it for standard training in a nearby field.” Rose was pugnacious, her thorns were showing for the first time since he had wedded her. 75

Viola Grace “Noon then. I look forward to seeing you in action, Lady.” His manner indicated his scepticism, but he was also known for loving the unusual. A woman with a lance qualified. Rose nodded and strode off toward the smithy. She was up to something. Osgood was terrified to find out what.

“Alright, Kald. Is it ready?” The dwarf stopped his work on a new blade. “Do you need it now?” “Well, if I don’t get it now, I will be jousting in this gown.” Her hands waved over the burgundy and gold silk confection that Osgood had selected for her. “That would be fashionable, but not very safe. Yes, it is ready for you. Including the new helmet and gorget.” He crossed the smithy and opened a wardrobe there in all its shining glory was a new set of jousting armour. It differed from Roth’s armour in that it made room for her breasts and curved in for her waist. It was both aggressive and feminine and she couldn’t be happier. “It is lovely. I never dreamed that it would be so beautiful.” Her hand caressed the embossed patterns of vines and roses. “You didn’t make this in a week. How long have you had it?” 76

Tilting Rose A smile split his face. “Over five years. We were wondering how long it would take for a man to make a bid for your affections. That Osgood was a clever one. He started his suit seven years ago.” “You have all known about him speaking to my father about marriage? Every one of you?” at his nod she shook her head, “And no one said anything to me. Fantastic.” “We thought it was in your best interest. You needed to believe that no one had seen through your disguise. It gave you the confidence that you needed to win.” He was right, but that didn’t make it easier for her. “Now, let’s get you into this armour before you take the field.” Two apprentices stepped forward and helped strap her into the breastplate, vambraces and the delicate chain mail coif. The armour moved with her and allowed her joints to flex with ease. “Kald, you are the best addition to Raynal that I have ever had the privilege of dealing with. If it weren’t for your reinforced armour I never would have made it through the trials of the tiltyard. Speed and reflexes can only take you so far.” “I know. That is why your armour is designed to take most of the force. But on your own, you had the courage to take the hits.” Rummaging behind a workbench he withdrew a canvas draped object that he held out to her. “I made this in the 77

Viola Grace hope that you would one day come into your own. The time is now.” With a flourish he drew the canvas off the object and tears sprang to her eyes. It was a new shield. While her old shield had had a rosebud on a black background, what she saw before her was a bright golden shield with a fully bloomed enamelled rose on it. With trembling hands she reached out to touch the bloom that seemed to shift and sway in the air. It was flat, but it looked so real. She took it from him with reverence. “Thank you Kald. It will be something that I treasure always. And very useful.” She set it aside and hugged the dwarf, his small body struggling against her armour. “Enough, my lady! If you don’t let me go I will never make another piece or armour for you again!” He shifted against her and she finally let him back onto the floor. “Thank you, Kald. I promise to not hug you again.” She was giddy with laughter as she took up the shield and swung it a few times to test the balance. Armoured and carrying her helmet under one arm, she walked to the stable and had them bring Stark to her. She had ridden him with her skirts on for the last week to get him used to the fabric against his sides and he had tolerated it fairly well. Today would be the ultimate test of his nerves. 78

Tilting Rose He pranced out and nuzzled her, snorting at the new breastplate and her skirts. She stroked his nose and asked one of the stable boys to fetch her squire. Stark’s mane was silky and had obviously been on the receiving end of a thorough brushing. “Have they been treating you well, sweet thing?” “Better than you have treated me this morning.” Osgood was behind her and in moments she was in his arms. He tilted her head back for his kiss and in moments she was in that world where they were alone, no matter how many people were in the area. “I am sorry, but that idiotic messenger just set me off. I have been insecure about my status here and he just played on my fears.” She cuddled against him. Well, she tried to. Her armour was definitely restrictive when it came to showing affection. “I suspected that that is what occurred. You have been so even tempered, it shocked me. You were due to crack soon.” He rested his hand on the side of her jaw. “I just wish that you did not have the inclination to risk your life just to prove a point.” “I don’t quite know why I issued the challenge—it just seemed like something I had to do.” “I have had your squire fetch some lances, and now we should make our way to the tilt yard so 79

Viola Grace that you can make a few passes in practice.” He offered his hands and she let him help her into the saddle. He handed up her shield and she settled into the curved leather. Although her clothing had changed shape, her ass was the same and it shifted into position in seconds. Placing her feet in the stirrups, she moved Stark gently into a gallop as she left the open gates of the bailey and crossed to the tiltyard. The wind blew her hair back, the skirts of her gown billowed around her—it was perfect. It felt right. Now if only she didn’t get killed in the joust, it would be a good day.

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Chapter Twelve he banner was up, her armour was in place, and Stark was in fine form. Her hair flowed from beneath her helmet and down her back. In her right arm she gripped her lance, in the left her shield. Prince Geoffric was seated on a hastily built dais and the messenger faced her from the other side of the yard. Osgood sat next to him pensively, waiting for the signal for the joust to begin. As the banner dropped, she kneed Stark into motion and then it was the thunder of hooves and her pulse ringing in her ears. The tip of the lance dipped with every hoof beat and in seconds her lance aligned with the breastplate of the messenger. With the noise of thunder and the impact of a hammer she slammed her lance directly into his chest. As her arm was braced for the connection, she was able to used Stark’s momentum to fling the messenger to the ground.

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Viola Grace His lance missed her entirely, skating lightly across her shield and then behind her. She threw the remains of her lance to the ground at the end of the list and dismounted to assist her opponent. She drew her sword and approached him as he struggled to regain his feet. Rose held her blade to his throat and asked him, “Do you apologize for the insult, or do we tilt again?” A crash sounded as he fell to his knees before her. “I apologize, Lady Rose of Raynal, for the insult that I dealt to you. My words were unforgivable and I beg that you allow me my life.” Sighing, she sheathed her sword. “Rise, messenger. And watch your tongue with ladies in the future. Some day they might stand between your life and death.” She turned and left him kneeling in the compacted dirt of the list. She walked to the Prince. “My honour is satisfied.” “And very well. If I had only a handful of knights with your skills I would take on the dragons.” He smiled and she guessed that it was not a joke. He really did have an urge for power. “I believe that Miranda will have a luncheon ready for you back at the keep, Highness.” Rose once again took on the role of the lady of the keep. “That would be most welcome, Lady Rose, please allow me to escort you.” He stepped down 82

Tilting Rose from the dais and held his arm out to her. She gently placed her gauntleted hand on his wrist and allowed him to take her back to the keep. Osgood was speaking to her squire and some of his knights and then followed at a suitable distance. It was a polite and civilized luncheon, until the moment when the Prince brought up his reason for being there. A page brought the sack of coins to the table and the prince looked pleased. “And now I only need twelve knights for sixty days. That is the penalty for late payment. Including Lord Osgood as commander.” “What? We have only just married!” Rose was indignant, but Osgood was furious. “Prince Geoffric, it is unthinkable that I would leave my wife and this new land unprotected.” Osgood was working up a head of steam that was cut off short. “I think, Osgood, that you have forgotten that your lady amply demonstrated her ability to defend this property from all comers.” He looked smug. “I had heard that she was skilled. I compliment you on acquiring such a capable wife.” “Hells.” Rose was more furious at herself than she had ever been. It was all a trick to get more men for his army. The messenger, the tilt, her triumph, had all been a ploy. 83

Viola Grace A rage built within her, and it was only when Osgood covered her hand with his that she looked over at her husband. He held her while he nodded to his second in command and watched the elf leave the keep with his troops. “Please excuse us for a moment.” With no more explanation than that her husband picked her up and took her to their chambers. “Rose, it is a matter of public knowledge that a village late in paying its taxes must be penalized with service. Two months is not a long period and then I will be back in your arms.” His tricolour eyes were sincere. Fighting back tears, she nodded. “Not long. But let me give you something to remember me by.” She knelt in front of him and moved his tunic up, unlacing his hose with slow and deliberate movements while she maintained eye contact. His cock was in her hand and she wet her lips slowly with her tongue, then leaned in to take his rapidly hardening length into her mouth. She licked and sucked at him, setting a slow rhythm that had his hands tangling in her hair and his hips surging with every movement of her head. She sucked back strongly as she drew her head back, then stroked his cock with her tongue as she leaned back into him, taking him as deeply as she could. Thick salty fluid trickled from his cock as he 84

Tilting Rose groaned at the sensations flooding into him. She swallowed and reached up to cup his balls in her hand, rolling them as she kept her pace of sucking and stroking. His hands fisted in her hair and a harsh shout broke from him as her mouth filled with semen. She swallowed, then licked gently at him while stroking his balls until he shook and sat heavily on their bed. With trembling arms he gripped her shoulders and drew her up to him for a kiss. His tongue touched hers and he groaned again as he tasted his seed in her mouth. He held her for a long time, murmuring sweet endearments, promising he’d think of her while he was away, and comforting her. “I have to go now Rose. My men are prepared and we brought supplies when we arrived. O have dealt with Geoffric before and knew what he would ask.” With tears in her eyes she turned to him, “So, you knew the whole time that you would have to leave? And you didn’t tell me?” She sniffled and punched him in the ribs. “It was not something I wanted to tell you unless it came to pass.” He cuddled her again and then sighed and set her aside. “The sooner I leave, the sooner I will be home. Will you wait for me?” She stood and straightened her gown and hair. “Do I have a choice? Yes, I will wait for you until 85

Viola Grace the stars burn out.” He raised her hands to his lips and laid a gentle kiss on each. “I swear it won’t take that long. I will be back in two months and our true life together will begin then.” Calmly, they walked hand in hand to the great hall, Osgood bowing to the Prince and then promenading his wife out the door where she saw half of their knights and horses lined up and ready to ride. “While I am gone, Rose, I will try to find a new spell book for Tonio. He has a lot of power, but needs some basic direction. I think something with rabbits coming out of hats should do.” She laughed through her tears, and he mounted his horse, with his saddlebags packed and ready. The Prince looked disconcerted at the couple’s lack of concern for his rank and presence. He hurried to mount his horse and lead the procession out of the keep. “Farewell, your Highness. May it be a long time before you pass this way again.” “It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Rose. Give my respects to your brother, Lord Roth.” The last she saw of her husband was his laughing face and those of the knights of Raynal as they rode proudly to fulfill their obligations.

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Chapter Thirteen he two months had flown past, a handful of skirmishes and the routing of rogue werewolves later, and Osgood and his knights were free to return to Raynal. He could hardly wait to get to his beloved Rose. Her smooth skin, that thick, lustrous hair and her full mouth had haunted his dreams for the last sixty days. He had found a magical primer for Tonio and sent it to Raynal over a month ago and he couldn’t wait to show the sorcerer how to use it. He hoped that he hadn’t tried to engage in any magic on his own. Raynal was just around the corner and he spurred his horse into a gallop to reach his beloved. The closed gates of the bailey caught him by surprise. They were never closed. He looked around and was astonished to see the village in shambles around him. Something was very wrong.

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Viola Grace One of his knights pounded on the door and it opened only enough to let the horsemen in. Thorgard manned the door. “Get in, quickly!” They moved swiftly and drew their weapons in preparation for whatever they would be facing. Dismounting, Osgood grabbed Thorgard by the shoulders, “Where is Rose? Is she alright?” Thorgard simply jerked his head at the great doors to the keep. There, in her new armour, her shield up and sword drawn stood his wife—ready for battle and facing the doors as if anticipating an attack. “Rose! What is going on?” She didn’t turn to him, but simply nodded, keeping her head toward the doors. “What is going on in there?” he asked. “Rose. Answer me!” Sighing, she turned and gave him a kiss that hardened his cock and curled his toes. “You sent Tonio a book of magic.” “Yes, it was a basic one, no complex spells. Only spells to conjure rabbits and such.” “Rabbits.” She shuddered and signalled Thorgard with the flash of her sword. Instantly, every spare knight had a burlap sack in their hand and circled the doorway. Taking the hint, Osgood’s knights took up similar positions with more sacks from an enormous pile near the gates. What ever was coming would have to be collected. What the hell was coming? 88

Tilting Rose Another signal from Rose and Thorgard gripped the ring in the door, another nod and he pulled it open. It was a sight that would stay with Osgood for the rest of his life. Bunnies of every size and description tumbled and raced out of the keep, their tiny fluffy feet pattering heavily on the ground. Rose knelt and dropped her shield to the ground, splitting the wave of fluff balls. The knights moved as one and began to scoop the bunnies up, half a dozen at a time. As they filled the bags with squirming rabbits they swapped them for empty bags given to them by scullions and pages. The full bags were put into a storage area that was filled with more of the squirming bags. The flood of bunnies was endless. “Osgood, if you know how to reverse this spell, and if you ever want to have sex again, you will do it now!” Taking a deep breath Osgood moved into the keep with his lips still tingling from the kiss. He climbed the steps to the sorcerer’s lab, bemused at the turn of events. Princes, obligations, taxes and now… rabbits. Nothing else mattered. He was home.

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About the Author Viola Grace was born in Manitoba, Canada where she still resides today. She really likes it there. Her hobbies have included cross-stitch, needlepoint, quilting, costuming, cake decorating, baking, cooking, metal work, beading, sculpting, painting, doll making, henna tattoos, chain maille, and a few others that have been forgotten. Her writing actively pursues the Happily Ever After that so rarely occurs in nature. A brilliant mind, with a twisted sense of humor.