Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

W hen Diara opened her eyes the next morning, it was to Roi staring at her.

Startled, she blinked a few times, trying to orient herself and quickly remembering where she was and whom she was with. And why. Very clearly, she remembered why.

She remembered everything.

"Good morn to you, angel," he purred.

With a smile, Diara wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her. In little time, he was sheathing the matrimonial sword again, buried down deep in the mattress where it was warm and musky and smelled of him. His flesh against hers, her legs wrapped around him, feeling his manhood as he brought her to a climax rather quickly. Roi followed, spilling himself with the greatest of pleasure, as his lips feasted on her neck and shoulder. He feasted on everything about her as Diara lay there and let him.

She let him do anything he wanted.

"I had not expected to do that," he muttered as he kissed her ear. "I thought it might not be too comfortable for you so soon after last night, but evidently, I was mistaken."

Diara laughed softly. "You were mistaken, indeed, my lord," she said. "Do not make that mistake again."

"Then I am to assume that you like the matrimonial sword when it is sheathed?"

Her laughter grew. Since nearly the moment they were introduced, Roi had had the ability to make her laugh, and she loved that. Even when it was slightly bawdy. She'd never known such genuine, unbridled joy.

"I do," she said. "Truthfully, I did not know what to expect, but you have made it easy for me. You are a thoughtful and considerate husband."

He smiled, stroking her cheek as he gazed down at her. "I awoke at sunrise to watch you sleep," he said. "You are so beautiful when you sleep."

She put a hand to her mussy hair. "Like this?" she said. "I must look like I was caught in a tempest."

"You look like an angel."

"You are sweet to say so."

"It is the truth."

The cry of a bird caught her attention, and she turned her head slightly, seeing that the oilcloth had been removed from one of the windows and the sun was streaming in. But she had no intention of getting out of bed, not with Roi so warm and cozy.

"How long has the sun been up?" she asked. "Please tell me we do not have to rise right away."

He glanced over his shoulder, at the window. "About an hour," he said. "Oddly enough, mornings are not my favorite time of day, which is not usual for a knight. Every knight I know is up before sunrise, tending his duties."

"But not you?"

He shifted so he was lying beside her and not on her, gathering her into his arms. "Only out of necessity," he said. "I prefer the dark. The twilight. The moment the day turns to night."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "There is a peace to it, I suppose," he said. "The twilight, I mean. But the dark… that is when I feel the most alive. That is when the earth is the most alive. Creatures and people and things move through the dark and there is an entire world we do not see. Twilight is the birth of that world. A rebirth of the day it was part of."

Diara's head was against his shoulder as she tried to picture the world that his words were painting. "That is interesting," she said. "I've never thought of it that way."

"No one does."

Her hand was on his chest, and she patted him gently. "Only you," she said. "That makes you unique. I think it also makes you a predator."

"Why would you say that?"

"Don't predators hunt at night?"

He turned his head so he was peering down at the top of her head. "You are the only prey I want to catch."

"You have already caught me."

He pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head, but before he could say another word, he began to hear voices from the bailey.

They were calling his name.

"God's Bones," Diara muttered. "Them again? Can they not leave us alone?"

Roi was torn between great irritation and great amusement. He let her go and rolled out of the bed, marching across the floor, stark naked, to the window.

"You idiots have angered my wife!" he shouted as he approached the window and subsequently hung out of it. "I am trying to convince her not to go down to the bailey and flog every one of you, so if you are wise, you will leave us alone!"

But the usual crowd wasn't down below—it was Curtis and a man Roi hadn't seen at the wedding or the subsequent feast. He found himself looking down at his cousin, Daniel de Lohr, the son of Christopher's only brother, David. David was, in fact, the Earl of Canterbury through his marriage, a title Daniel would inherit someday. He was also the liveliest and most emotional, humorous, and impulsive member of the de Lohr family. They used to call him the Prodigal Son because of his inability to stay in one place for too long until he married nearly ten years before. Then Daniel had settled down with his wife and children up in Yorkshire, which was why Roi was quite surprised to see him.

"Send her down!" Daniel called back to him. "I would like to meet this poor woman you have forced into marriage. I must tell her what she is in for with you."

Roi beamed at the sight of his cousin. "Danny," he said with delight. "When did you arrive?"

"Before sunrise, little prince," Daniel said, taunting him. "Uncle Christopher's precious little boy was still in bed, and I was told not to wake you, but it is more than an hour after sunrise and the day is wasting away. Pull yourself away from your new wife and get down here. I did not come all the way to Lioncross only to be saddled with your boring brothers for entertainment."

Roi laughed. "I must ask my wife," he said. "We have only just been married, you know. She may not want me to leave her anytime soon."

Curtis chimed in, waving a big arm at him. "Come down here, you gutless knave," he said. "The games are already being organized in honor of your wedding, and you do not want to miss them."

Roi wagged a finger at his brother. "I told you," he said. "No targeting my knees, buttocks, ballocks, or anything else I might need. Did you tell the others?"

Curtis nodded patiently. "I told them," he said. "At least, I did last night, but Douglas and Westley are still in bed, sleeping off the massive amounts of wine they consumed last night. So are many of the others. I'm not entirely sure we'll have an adequate amount of competitors for any of the games after that drunken orgy last night."

Roi rolled his eyes. "I am not surprised," he said. "Give me a few moments to get dressed and I shall meet you in the hall."

With that, he turned away from the window with the full intention of getting dressed and rushing down to see Daniel. But his eyes fell on the bed where Diara was sitting up, the coverlet clutched to her naked breast, and it took him a moment to realize that she was looking at him with a rather startled expression.

"I am sorry, angel," he said. "I've not seen my cousin, Daniel, in quite some time. May I go down and see him?"

Diara nodded, but she quickly averted her gaze. "Of course," she said. "You should go, right away."

He smiled gratefully and went on the hunt for his clothing. His tunic was on one spot, his breeches in another, and he had to walk to both sides of the bed in order to find everything. He went over to the big wardrobe against the wall to hang up the silk tunic he'd worn for his wedding and collect a more durable one that could handle the events planned for the day. But the entire time he was prancing around naked, he noticed one thing.

Diara wouldn't look at him.

He walked to one side of the bed and she'd turn her attention to the other. Then he'd walk back only for the same thing to happen in reverse. When he realized that, he could see that her cheeks were a dull red. It occurred to him that she was embarrassed to have a naked man parading in front of her, being that the lass hadn't even been kissed until a few days ago, and he thought it was rather sweet that she should be so prim. With his clothing in his hands, he sauntered over to the bed.

"Shall I send Iris up to help you dress?" he asked.

She had her head lowered. "I would appreciate that, thank you."

"My pleasure." He was standing right next to her, his flaccid manhood at the level of her head. "Which tunic do you think I should wear today?"

She only glanced up, sort of, to see what he had in his hand. "I… I like the blue one," she said.

He was fighting off a grin. "You did not even look."

"I did."

"Don't you like what you see?"

Diara began to catch on to the fact that he was teasing her, and she knew why. It embarrassed her to realize that he knew why she wouldn't look at him. From the moment he left the bed and crossed over to the window, she'd been confronted with perfect buttocks, a tight waist, impossibly broad shoulders attached to big arms, and legs that were rippling with muscles. Everything about him sang of perfection, and as she stared at his backside, becoming accustomed to his nude form, he'd suddenly turned around and she was confronted by his flaccid manhood.

That had sent the flames into her cheeks.

And he knew it.

"I like what I see," she said, still unable to look at him. "I like it very much."

"Then why don't you look at me?"

She sighed sharply. "Can I simply not take the time to get used to the idea?" she said irritably. "I have to lust over you like a dog over fresh meat right from the onset?"

He began to laugh. "I have lusted over you from the onset."

"But you have seen a woman without her clothing on before," she pointed out. "I've never seen a man lacking… attire."

His laugh deepened, and he took pity on her, pulling his breeches on and tying them off. "There, you coward," he said. "I am modestly covered. Will you at least look at me now?"

Diara lifted her eyes, fighting off a grin. "There may be a time when I demand you keep your clothing off, and then you'll be sorry."

"I doubt it."

The man gave her a cheeky wink and turned around, heading back over to the wardrobe, but Diara grabbed a pillow and threw it at him, hitting him in the back of the head. Chuckling, he picked it up and tossed it back onto the mattress before he finished dressing.

"Now," he said as he went back to the bed, "I will have food and a bath sent up to you along with Iris. Is there anything else you require?"

Diara shook her head. "Not that I can think of," she said. "But these games… What will you be playing?"

He shook his head. "I do not know," he said. "But send a servant to the hall to fetch me when you are ready to come downstairs. I will escort you to the field."

"What field?"

He jabbed a thumb toward the south. "There is an open field on the other side of the road that leads to the gatehouse," he said. "We've held tournaments there in the past, so I'm assuming that is where these games will be held."

"Then I will bathe and dress quickly."

He bent over and kissed her. "Take your time, angel," he said. "We shall wait for you."

She put her hand behind his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. "I do not want to miss anything," she insisted. "I will be ready within the hour, I promise."

He smiled at her and touched her cheek affectionately before heading toward the door. Diara watched him, tall and strong and proud, her heart swelling with delirious joy at the sight of him. Her husband. Her Roi. No offense to Beckett, but she knew she'd married the right de Lohr.

Lifting the latch on the door, he paused and looked at her. "One more thing," he said.

"What is it?"

He appeared thoughtful. "I do not believe that I have told you that I love you."

Her lips broke out in the most amazing grin. "I do not believe I have told you that I love you, either."

"I do, you know."

"So do I."

Flashing her a toothy smile, he winked at her and quit the chamber, leaving Diara floating about five feet off the bed in euphoric delight.

*

The first game was called, simply, "ball."

The object was to take an inflated pig's bladder from one end of the tournament field to the other and place it in a basket. There was a basket at either end and there were two teams, essentially just two groups of men, and each group was to protect their end and their basket from the other team, who would try to put their pig's bladder in it.

It was chaos from the start.

Diara stood at the edge of the field with the other de Lohr ladies and Iris, watching Roi, his cousin Daniel, Curtis, knights Kyne and Adrius, Gallus and Maximus, and a few soldiers as they took their ball and tried to plow through the other group of men, which was comprised of Westley, Douglas, Mathis and Pryce, Tiberius, a few guests, and a couple of soldiers. Roi wasn't the tallest de Lohr brother, but he was more than likely the most powerful, because his team gave him the ball every time and he essentially plowed through the opposing group like a runaway bull, with men hanging off him trying to bring him down.

It was hilarious and thrilling to watch.

Adalia and Dorian were also watching the games, with Dorian holding Diara's hand and Adalia essentially clinging to her grandmother. Mathis and Pryce were part of the opposition against Roi, and Adalia was particularly interested in watching that team but too shy to admit it.

Peter, Christopher, and his brother, David, were the field marshals for the game, calling for pause whenever Roi or someone else would go down. If a man dropped the ball and the other team picked it up, then that team would try to run it back the other direction. At one point, Roi was hit hard from the side by Westley, who lay on the field in agony next to Roi, who had only gone down to his knees. Westley's head was killing him from a night of overindulgence, and when he hit Roi and caused him to falter, Roi dropped the ball and went after Westley, throwing him in a chokehold and rubbing his knuckles across the top of Westley's aching head.

The crowd roared with laughter.

But the gesture caused Westley to jump on Roi's back every time he ran with the bladder in an attempt to bring him down. Given that Westley was a large man, he was successful more than once, which only made Roi grab him in frustration. Several times, they started to brawl, but Christopher and David broke it up, sending them to opposite sides of the field until the bladder was in play again and Westley would try to jump on Roi.

And the situation would repeat itself.

Unfortunately for Westley, Curtis was onto him. Curtis and Roi, the eldest brothers, stuck to each other like glue, and Curtis took Westley down when he tried to jump on Roi again. That brought Douglas, who would back Westley, and the de Lohr brothers were throwing punches, tripping one another, launching themselves at each other, and more besides. Peter got into the act, naturally siding with Curtis and Roi because they were the older brothers, and the game deteriorated into a battle between the de Lohr brothers, so Christopher finally put a stop to it and declared Roi's team the winners.

Westley didn't take kindly to it.

Sweaty, dirty, and sporting a cut above his right eye, Roi joined Diara on the edge of the field. She gave him a hero's welcome, hugging him and clapping, and the ladies around her joined in. Roi took a gallant bow, accepting a hug from Dorian, but Douglas and Westley crowded in and started to complain to Dustin, insisting that Roi had cheated. Diara and Roi stood together, shaking their heads at the annoying younger brothers.

"Are they always like this?" Diara asked.

Roi nodded firmly. "Always," he said. "I was nine years of age when Douglas was born and nearly twelve when Westley was born, so they have always been the little brothers. Any little thing and they would go running to my mother to cry and complain, like they are doing now. Some things never change."

Diara chuckled at the pair, who were trying very hard to convince Dustin that they were angels and that Roi was the devil himself. But watching them with their mother reminded Diara that her own parents were missing from the festivities, and she looked around, hoping she might have missed their arrival.

"I thought my father would be here, at least," she said, looking over her shoulder at the great walls of Lioncross. "I wonder if I should return to the castle and escort them over to the field?"

Roi looked over at the castle also. "Did you ask Mathis or Pryce where they are?"

"Nay."

"Roi!"

They both looked over to see Kyne waving Roi over to the middle of the field, and he obliged. As he headed over to a host of men standing around, Diara was increasingly focused on her missing parents. She mentioned it to Dustin, who offered to retrieve them, but Diara declined. They were her parents, after all, so she felt the duty should be hers. As the group of men decided what game to set up next, she scurried back across the road and in through Lioncross' enormous gatehouse.

The castle was virtually deserted except for a stalwart crew of soldiers manning the battlements, and one very old knight with a Teutonic accent commanding them. Diara headed for the keep, passing through the entry and realizing that the place seemed strangely empty with all of the de Lohrs out watching the game. In fact, it seemed eerily still because the castle was always full of people. It seemed so lonely without them. She was about to take the mural stairs to the guest wing where her parents were lodged when she heard something coming from Christopher's solar. Curious, she stuck her head in.

Robin was inside, alone.

He had his back to her, looking through something on a table against the wall. Puzzled, Diara stepped into the chamber.

"Papa?" she said. "What are you doing?"

Robin jumped, startled, and whirled to face her. He had something in his hand that he had yet to release, and to Diara, it looked like a missive. She pointed at it, but before she could speak, Robin interrupted.

"Looking for maps," he said. "You know I collect many maps. I wanted to see if Lord Hereford had any maps that included Cheltenham."

Diara wasn't hard-pressed to admit that she didn't believe him. Not for one moment. It was simply in the way he'd said it and his nervous body language. Furthermore, he had a strange look in his eye and was smiling far more than necessary.

Something seemed off to her.

"There are games going on to celebrate the wedding," she said. "Where is Mama? I thought you would both come out to watch the games."

Robin shook his head. "I am not one for games," he said. "You know that."

"But it is a celebration, Papa," she said as if she had to remind him. "It will be humiliating if the parents of the bride are not celebrating the wedding and isolating themselves from everyone. I realize that we did not marry when you wanted us to, but—"

He cut her off, rather sharply. "There is no humiliation to be had," he said. "I simply do not like games. Would you force me to watch them when I do not enjoy them?"

Diara was becoming impatient. "For my sake, you could make the effort," she said. "Papa, I know we've not had a chance to speak since your arrival, but you should know that I am very happy with Roi. I realize that I was unsure in the beginning, but I have come to know him, and he is a remarkable man. He's kind and thoughtful and he makes me laugh. He is a man to be proud of, so for my sake, will you please come outside and watch the games?"

Robin wasn't fond of the request. That much was clear. He hadn't been looking for maps, as he'd told his daughter. Simply put, he'd been snooping. With everyone over at the tournament field across the road, and he knew very well that they were over there, he had the run of the keep. He'd been able to read several missives between Henry and Christopher, between Christopher and some of his allies, and he got a general sense that Christopher controlled a world that Robin could only hope for. It served to underscore what he had feared—in the de Lohr world, he'd be a bug against a swarm of giants.

He wanted his own world to control.

More and more, he knew that only his daughter could bring him that.

But he had to proceed carefully.

"There is plenty of time to watch men chasing after one another," he said evenly. "I've simply been enjoying the hospitality of Lioncross. The castle reminds me of another place I have visited. I believe you have visited it, also. Do you recall Totterdown Castle?"

Diara sighed heavily. "I remember," she said. "A big place that smelled of the dogs and pigs they kept in the hall. It was a horrible place."

Robin shrugged. "Horrible but big," he said. "Big like Lioncross' keep. It's also rich like Lioncross."

"Papa, I have no desire to speak on Totterdown Castle," she said. "Will you please come to the field with me?"

Robin looked at her with displeasure in his eyes. "Can you not spend just a few moments alone with your father?" he nearly demanded. "Must we only see one another when you are in a crowd of de Lohrs? As you said, I did not have the opportunity to speak to you at all during or after your wedding. During the feast, you only had eyes for your husband. I realize you feel that you can belittle and humiliate me now that you have married Roi, but let me assure you that your control of the situation is only temporary. Soon enough, you'll understand your place and you will give me the respect I am due."

Diara was looking at him with concern after that little diatribe. "Control of the situation?" she repeated, puzzled. "What does that mean? I have no control over anything. And if my attention is on Roi, it is because he is my husband. That is where my attention should be."

Robin realized he'd said too much in his irritation, but it was an effort not to say more. He very much wanted to because it seemed to him that his daughter's focus on Roi had somehow weakened her respect for him. He could pinpoint it to the moment back at Cicadia when he had wanted them to marry right away and Roi refused.

That had been the beginning of the end, for everything. He was rather hoping that had been an isolated incident and that the marriage was not at all a happy one for her, but he knew he'd been living a false dream with that hope. From what he saw at the wedding ceremony, the two of them were quite enamored with each other.

And that upset him deeply.

"This marriage does not displease you, I take it?" he asked.

"Nay, it does not," Diara replied. "I am very happy."

"You have me to thank for that."

"Thank you, Papa."

"You know that I will always do what is best for you, don't you?"

"Aye, Papa."

"You were not keen on this betrothal in the beginning, but I knew it was best."

"Aye, Papa."

"I will always do what is best."

"Aye, Papa." Diara watched him as he started to nose around Christopher's desk again. "Please come with me. You should not be here in Lord Hereford's solar, alone."

He cast her a long look. "Will you tell him that I was?"

"Nay," she said. "But leave with me now. I will not go until you do."

God, how he hated a woman who took a stand. Ananda had been his wife for twenty-three years, and she'd never once tried to assert herself like Diara was doing now. That infuriated him. He walked up to her, only slightly taller than she was, and looked down his nose at her.

"Marrying Roi has made you brave," he said. "But that will not last."

With that, he headed out of the solar, leaving Diara trailing after him, puzzled by his behavior and what sounded ostensibly like a threat. Her father had always been ambitious and direct, but his behavior since learning of Beckett de Lohr's death had been… strange. Very strange. She couldn't put her finger on why he was being so odd. Something told her that there was more than met the eye, but she was at a loss as to what, exactly, that could be.

Perhaps she didn't want to know.

But something told her she'd find out soon enough.