Page 13 of The Marked Princess

“And he didn't say anything to you, nothing at all?”

“Not a word.” He paused before adding, “although, I did hear of a messenger arriving on horseback just before sunrise this morning.”

They moved down the corridor, heading for the main stairs as quickly as they could without actually running. Josselyn tried in vain to sort through the various scenarios that could have her father calling a meeting so early. And on the morning of her birthday, of all days.

“Did you hear where the messenger was from?”

Alex shook his head. “No, but you'll have your answers soon enough, I expect.”

They entered the meeting room, two guards holding the heavy, wooden doors open as they passed through. Alex took up his position by the door as Josselyn hurried to join the group of men at the table, who were already in the midst of a heated discussion. Noticing the princess' arrival, they quieted, standing as she moved to take her place beside her father, who had remained seated, his eyes tired and his brow furrowed. He gave her a brief nod, and the room soon filled with noise once more, as the men at the table retook their seats, jumping back into their discussion.

The young man to Josselyn's right leaned over, catching her attention. “The king received a message from Devon this morning, claiming the castle was under siege from an army of Roshkans. We've been discussing what should be done about it.” His lips twisted in a rueful smile. “Well, arguing more than discussing, to be honest.”

Josselyn raised her eyebrows in surprise. “But Roshka has always been one of our allies. Why would they invade now?”

He shrugged. “An excellent question, Your Highness.”

She studied the young man, his dark brown hair and aquiline features vaguely familiar. She glanced across the table, where Lord Darius Hughes, the current duke of Devon, was sitting, his deep voice rising over the others as he made wide gestures with his hands. There was no mistaking the resemblance between him and the young man sitting beside her.

“You must be Lord Dayton, Lord Darius' son.”

He bowed his head in acknowledgment. “A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Your Highness, although I would have preferred to do so under better circumstances.”

“Your family only arrived yesterday, yes? And there were no signs of an invasion when you departed?”

“Things were fine when we left, although it took us several days to arrive here by carriage. A messenger on horseback could have made the trip much quicker, if he changed mounts along the way. It is possible we just missed it.”

The duke stood up, slamming his fist down on the table. “Enough! I must return to Devon immediately. I cannot leave my people undefended.” He turned beseeching eyes to Josselyn's father. “I would ask Your Majesty to send reinforcements, as well. We have no idea what kind of numbers we'll be facing.”

The room was silent as the king stared back at the duke, his eyes narrowed in contemplation. Finally he nodded, turning to General Weston as he did so.

“Ready your men to head down to Devon with the duke. You'll depart as soon as possible.”

The general stood and excused himself from the table, and the duke dropped to his knee before the king, bowing his head low.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. Devon will forever be in your debt.”

He stood and turned to his son. “Dayton, you should remain here with your mother and sisters. I know they've been looking forward to the princess' ball tonight. Escort them in my place.”

Lord Dayton frowned. “Shouldn't I go with you? If it's true, then our people will need all the assistance they can get.”

“I appreciate your sense of responsibility, but this all may turn out to be nothing. Let us hope it is. I would hate for you to miss out on the opportunity of attending the ball tonight.”

The duke raised a brow, his eyes glancing over at Josselyn, who squirmed in discomfort over the implication. Lord Dayton's face flushed, and he fixed his gaze on the table. “Yes, sir.”

The duke left the room, and soon everyone else was rising, still discussing the situation even as the meeting broke up.

Josselyn's father reached out, covering her hand with his own.

“Happy birthday, daughter.”

She managed a wry smile in return. “Thank you, father. I'm suddenly feeling much older, indeed.”

He chuckled. “We'll sort the rest of this out. You should go rest and prepare for tonight's festivities. We can't let this unpleasantness ruin such an important day.”

“Heaven forbid.”

She pushed back from the table and rose to her feet. Lord Dayton stood, as well, and presented her with his arm. “May I escort you to breakfast, Your Highness?”