Lord of the Vampires (Royal House of Shadows #1)(48)
Author: Gena Showalter

Laila thought he was dead. So, in a way, he was finally free of the bitch. He could travel to Elden, and do what needed doing. And Jane could deliver his vengeance—a special care package of lethal—for him.

The princess had killed an innocent woman for no damn reason. No wonder the people in town had been afraid of Odette. The royal family abused their power, and Jane wasn’t going to let them do so anymore.

Then she and Nicolai could be together again.

When Laila finally decided to stop for the evening, Jane’s legs were stiff from disuse. Not as stiff as they could have been, at least. In fact, not even close to what she was used to dealing with. No throbbing pain, no bone-crushing aches. However, a walk would have been nice.

Sadly, a walk wasn’t in the forecast for some time to come. She had to continue to lounge as the guards erected her tent. And decorated the inside. And carted in her trunks. Trunks Laila had brought with her, perhaps hoping to bribe her for a night with Nicolai.

When they finished, bowing before her and awaiting dismissal, Laila climbed down from her own raised lounge, stepping on their backs to reach the ground.

“There will be a celebration of your return,” the princess announced with a clap of her hands. “We will dine in my tent. My slaves will dance for us, and you may choose whichever you desire to warm your furs.”

Gee. Thanks. “Sorry, but I’m tired.” Jane climbed down, too, feeling guilty the entire time. Although the guards blinked with surprise at her slighter weight and that sparked a kernel of fear. “I wish only to bathe and sleep. And eat. I haven’t been fed properly in days.”

“Bathe, yes. Then join me. I will feed you. Since your return from the grave, there has been too much friction between us. I do not like it, and long for the ease of our former relationship.”

A lie, Jane knew. Laila hated Odette with the same passion she had craved Nicolai in her bed, but to protest was to, perhaps, act against the real Odette’s character. “Very well,” she said on a sigh. “I’ll join you in an hour.” A small reprieve, but a reprieve all the same. She made her way to her own tent.

A long soak in the portable tub did much to appease her aches and pains. A tub Rhoslyn had filled. The girl was a surprisingly welcome sight.

Jane scrubbed from head to toe, using the floral-scented soap that had rested on the rim. “Did Laila demand that you come on this journey or did you volunteer?”

Frizzy red hair bobbed. “I volunteered, princess.” She unfolded a vivid green robe from a trunk. “Just in case we found you, and you had need of me.”

I should have been nicer to this girl. “I didn’t see you until you entered my tent. Where were you in the procession?”

“Behind the third line of defense, with the rest of the servants and slaves.”

“I wished I’d known. You could have ridden in the carriage with me.” Jane emerged from the water and grabbed the towel resting on a nearby bench.

“I will help you,” Rhoslyn said, rushing over. The robe dangled from her arms.

“No, thanks.” There were some things she was now capable of doing herself—things she hadn’t been able to do while practically chained to a hospital bed—and she would never again allow anyone to do them for her.

Dried, she pinched one corner of the robe and lifted. Her lips curved down in distaste. Though finely made, the material was too wide for her, and far too thick. She’d melt from the heat. And, where the robe gaped, she’d fry like battered shrimp when in the sun.

“I am sorry if the cloth is not to your liking.” Free of her burden, Rhoslyn bowed her head. “You may beat me if you wish.”

Jane caught the layer of fear in her voice. “Beat you? Rhoslyn, I’m not going to beat you. Ever.”

The girl continued as if she hadn’t heard a word Jane had said. “I thought you would prefer something durable, rather than enticing. And your sister was quite eager to reach you, so I did not have much time to pack your things. I am not complaining,” she rushed to add. “I simply wished to explain why there are not many robes to choose from, and why I did not bring your very best.”

“You did great, I swear. I love the gown. Love it. See?” She dressed and twirled. “I’ve never felt lovelier.”

Rhoslyn offered her a genuine smile. “I am glad, princess. Oh. And I am happy to tell you that I brought your book.”

Jane paused, her heart suddenly thumping. “Really? Where is it?”

The girl crossed to the other side of the tent. Slowly, Jane realized, and with care. “Hey. Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself carrying those buckets?” Great. Something else to feel guilty about.

Rhoslyn stiffened, stumbling over her own feet, before continuing on. “I am fine, princess.” She hunched over another trunk, dug inside and lifted the leather-bound tome.

Jane gasped with horror. As the girl had bent over, her hair had fallen forward and Jane had caught sight of bruising on her neck. Black and blue and clearly spreading farther down. “What happened to your back?” This time, her tone was firm, unyielding, demanding an answer.

Rhoslyn’s thin arm shook as she held out the book. “I allowed you to be abducted by the slave. I was punished. As I deserved.”

Whipped, then. Laila hadn’t given the girl time to pack properly, but she’d damn sure made time to use the cat-o’-nine-tails. Jane claimed the offered item, hating Laila a little more. “That wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have stopped him. Hell, you weren’t even there.”

No reply was forthcoming.

She sighed. “I’m headed to my sister’s tent. While I’m gone, I want you to soak in the tub. If you want. If you don’t, don’t. Then, I want you to rest. Do not wait up for me. And that’s an order.”

Eyes wide with surprise, Rhoslyn gave another nod.

Jane stepped outside. Overhead, the sun was setting, muted and a deep purple. And yet, it still managed to burn her newly sensitive skin, making her itch all over again. Now wasn’t the time to consider what that meant, either.

Laila’s tent was a mere ten steps away. At the entrance, Jane stopped and squared her shoulders. You can do this. The sound of laughter and music wafted toward her as she brushed past the flap. She scouted her new surroundings, trying to take everything in at once. To the right, Laila was perched on a hastily constructed dais. Lounging, of course, and eating pastries. There was an empty seat beside her.