Page 29 of Leila’s Legacy

“I’ll see it done.” Alban’s insinuation slicked over his words the way oil did over water. He grasped Leila’s wrist, directly over the torn skin from her bindings, and squeezed painfully before tugging her. The Lion’s hold on her slipped and Leila plunged toward Alban, all but crashing into his chest. While her gambeson had held the musty remnants of someone’s sweat, the one Alban wore was sour with it.

She did her best to hold her breath as he unfastened the gambeson from her torso before spinning her around to jerk it from her back and pin her hands together.

“She’s to be put in the left front tower.” The Lion issued the one simple order before turning his back to Leila and walking away with Lord Armstrong.

It wasn’t until he was gone, until she was at Alban’s mercy, that she realized she missed the Lion’s quiet stoicism at her side. He had kept her from having to walk through town with the villagers, he had not mentioned what had passed between Leila and her father, and he had even now tried to ensure her safety.

“Walk,” Alban commanded. “Or I’ll have to make ye.” His fingers dug into her wrists.

Leila bit back a cry of pain and walked forward. While the silence between her and the Lion had been somewhat companionable in coming to the castle, the quiet between her and Alban stretched on like an unspoken threat. He had been commanded to get her back into a kirtle. She was not so naive as to wonder at his intent once she was disrobed and at his mercy. Nor was she so weak that she would not fight.

Even as they walked, she considered what she’d seen when he approached them. Had he worn a sword at his belt? Surely, he had. Mayhap a dagger? Possibly. But which side?

Her head ached from trying to probe at the image, but she could not resurrect the necessary information in her mind.

He shoved her into the yawning entrance of the castle where the shadows swallowed them, leaving the world dark and cold. A chill raked its way down her spine.

“Are ye scared, witch?” Alban’s grip loosened on one wrist long enough for him to drag a finger over the goosebumped flesh of her forearm. “If no’, ye should be.”

She clenched her jaw and said nothing. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his words truly did frighten her. Her mind darted around for something else to think on and immediately went to her father.

Only, that wouldn’t do. Not when seeing him had nearly shattered her composure. It had been good of the Lion to not mention the conversation he’d no doubt overheard. The one where he must realize Leila was not Lord Werrick’s daughter, where she had bared her soul, unearthed her unworthiness of all she had. Yet he had not spoken of it. Nor had he regarded her with pity or scorn. It was as though he truly had not heard it. And as that was impossible given his nearness to them, she was all the more grateful for the courtesy. Just as she had been grateful for the way he’d guarded her in the prison to ensure her safety, and how he’d provided her with warm, dry clothing.

It was only when Alban had begun to push Leila up the stairs that she realized the comforting thought she had been clinging to as they made their way through the castle. It was not of her father, but of the Lion. Her heart shrank in her chest. Was this how it happened then? How she fell in love with the man who would kill her? Was she so foolish?

Alban pushed the door open, startling a maid who was dragging a trunk across the floor. The red-haired woman looked at Alban with wide eyes.

“Leave,” Alban stated.

The woman’s gaze slipped to Leila and pity flashed there before she scuttled from the room.

“Bring a kirtle.” Alban called his order after the woman, though it was said with a lack of concern, as though he didn’t care whether Leila had the garment or not.

Leila stared forward at the room with Alban still holding her hands behind her. The room had been stripped bare of most of its furnishings, save for the trunk left in the middle of the floor and a simple carved bed set in the corner. No doubt everything else had been removed to ensure she did not devise a way to escape.

Alban released Leila and shoved her hard into the room, so she sprawled forward awkwardly. She would have caught her balance were it not for the sharp-edged trunk her shins hit, sending her sailing over it. She crashed to the floor as the door to the room slammed shut and the key clicked the lock into place.

She leapt to her feet as Alban approached, his face revealing a smug smile of victory. “Take off yer clothes.”