11. Rainer

11

RAINER

L ady Spellman poured tea with the same meticulousness Rainer brought to his swordsmanship routine. He had not realized that so much went into the perfect cup of tea. He felt like a brute for normally gulping his down as soon as it finished steeping.

Rainer studied her, willing himself to stop picking at his raw cuticles—to stop fidgeting altogether. As far as he could remember, he had never courted someone, and that made him more nervous. He had no recollection of his interests, which meant he had no idea what to talk about.

Lady Spellman looked gorgeous. Her dark curls were pinned up, several tendrils skimming her elegant neck. Her elaborate, dark purple dress accentuated her figure and made her breasts impossible to ignore.

She caught him staring and smiled.

Rainer quickly looked at the teacup she held out to him, his cheeks heating. "Sorry."

"I hardly need you to apologize for giving me a good look, especially if we're going to be spending time together."

"I didn't mean to stare, Lady Spellman. "

" Eloise ," she said. "Let's not be so formal. I'm fine with you staring, as long as I can stare back."

Rainer was surprised by her forwardness. "Do you want to get married?"

"I was hoping for better when it came to a proposal," Eloise said.

Rainer choked on his tea. "I didn't mean?—"

Her face brightened. "I'm just teasing. Yes, I want to get married. I've waited a long time to find the right partner. I thought perhaps it would never happen."

Rainer frowned. "But why? You're so beautiful and kind and, clearly, very thoughtful."

Eloise smiled. "I'm sure you know that I'm at the whims of the men in my life. My father and older brothers. We're very wealthy and although there have been several interested suitors, so far they've only been interested in my wealth."

Rainer shook his head. "I have no interest in your fortune. I have family money."

Eloise sipped her tea. "I understand your father made his fortune in the garment trade."

Rainer nodded. "Yes, he's hoping to retire soon and sell the family business."

Although Olney was a kingdom away, Raymond McKay's disapproval was a constant voice in Rainer's head. He looked at Eloise and wondered what she would say if she knew who his real father was. Would she be impressed? Or would she, like Rainer, only see the ways he was falling short of Zelden Novaris's legacy?

Rainer had the distinct impression that he used to be better at this—like the ghost of charisma still inhabited his body but wouldn't fully settle in. He could vaguely remember charming women but had no sense of how to do it now.

He picked at his nails, wishing for his blade and the half-carved star flower he'd left on his nightstand. He could only vaguely call up disjointed, frayed memories of learning from a carpenter, yet somehow, when he picked up the carving and blade, his hands seemed to miraculously know what to do. The relief was instant because the scrape of metal on wood dulled the anxious thoughts in his head to a dull hum.

Eloise looked at him expectantly. He'd let the silence go on for too long.

"I'm much more interested in getting to know you," he said.

"Well, I'm an open book. What do you want to know?"

Rainer's teacup clattered in his shaky hands as he set it too hard on the table. He was making a mess of this. "How do you picture your life? What do you want out of it?"

Eloise's eyebrows shot up.

"Is that the wrong kind of question?" He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "Gods, I hope you'll forgive me, but I'm afraid I don't have much experience with courtship."

"Your nervousness is charming," she said. "I'm just surprised you want to know about my desires. Men usually prefer to talk about their vision for the future than to hear mine."

Rainer shrugged. "Would you prefer that?"

Eloise shook her head. "I always enjoyed dressing up and going to court parties, but I find that it gets tedious with age. I've been doing it for so long that I don't mind playing the game, but I'd like to have something real—away from court. I'd like to have a family of my own and a husband who comes home and actually wants to share his burdens with me. I want partnership. It would be nice to have someone who sees me as an equal at home, even if not in the rest of the world. Obviously, I'd also like to have a connection with the person so that we genuinely enjoy each other's company."

Rainer liked the picture she painted. He could imagine himself coming back after a long day to a quiet home with her. He'd been so focused on achieving, he hadn't really thought about what came after or what reward he wanted beyond the recognition of a job well done. He could have a life and home, a place where he was always wanted and valuable.

Deep down he'd always wanted to be a father, his heart clenching each time he imagined looking into bright green eyes like his own and having the chance to prove he could be more compassionate, encouraging, and loving than Raymond McKay. Rainer would never treat his children like currency to be traded for social status. He'd shield them from court life and let them be whomever they wanted to be.

"Rainer?"

Eloise's voice startled him from his revelry. He shook his head. "Apologies, I was imagining the life you described."

"And you found it compelling?" Her voice carried a note of apprehension.

Rainer nodded. "I think I hadn't given myself much time to consider anything beyond my ambition, but a life without more than my work would feel empty."

Eloise's face lit up. She was truly striking, her beauty seemingly supernatural in its symmetry—as if someone had taken a collection of lovely features and fixed them just so.

Rainer knew he'd been with quite a few women, but he felt suddenly out of his depth.

She ran her fingers over her collarbone. He tracked the movement as her finger trailed down her chest, then sipped his tea, his mouth suddenly parched.

"I'm sure you hadn't anticipated getting married so soon, but I think we'd be a good pair and I certainly suspect we'd enjoy ourselves behind closed doors," she said with a smirk.

Rainer sputtered into his tea.

"You disagree?" she challenged.

Rainer shook his head. "No, I—you're obviously very lovely?—"

She leaned closer, her gaze fixed on his lips. She smelled faintly sweet—like vanilla and honey. He liked that—that she smelled like things you could find in the kitchen. It made him think of baking. Though he couldn't remember how he'd learned his way around a kitchen, he could call up a lemon cake recipe and several pasta dishes from memory.

"I suppose there's only one way to find out," he said.

He didn't allow a moment of hesitation. He cupped her cheek and pressed his lips to hers .

It was clearly not her first kiss, but Rainer wasn't one to judge a lady for experience. The power shifted between them quickly. She climbed into his lap as she deepened the kiss. She tasted sweet and astringent, like tea and honey biscuits. It was so inappropriate, but it was a relief that she had let her guard down.

It felt good to have her soft body pressed against him. He pulled her closer, tangling his fingers in her hair as she whimpered. He'd had no intimate touch at all since his accident and he'd almost forgotten the pleasure of a woman's warmth.

Her hands came to the button at the top of his tunic and all at once, he regained his wits. He pulled away.

Panting, he met Eloise's eye. "Seems you were right."

She grinned. "Such a gentleman to stop me. You could have more if you want."

Her eyes lit with lust, and he was half-tempted to do just that.

But good sense won out. They were in a sitting room, and although the door was closed, someone could walk by the windows outside or come in through the unlocked door without notice. Lord Spellman had given them a surprising amount of freedom considering he'd left them with no chaperone, but the man was conniving enough that it might have been intentional.

Rainer scrubbed a hand over his face. He lifted Eloise off of him, setting her back in her chair. He was so confused. He wanted affection, but kissing her felt a strange mix of pleasant and wrong.

"I wouldn't ask a lady of your stature to risk her reputation."

Eloise's face fell. "Is this because you're not certain?"

"We've already gone further than we should have, and you've certainly made your point," he replied.

Eloise nodded. "Such a gentleman. If you change your mind or have a stroke of ungentlemanly notions, I hope you'll find me."

Rainer's jaw dropped.

A knock on the door startled them and her father appeared in the doorway. He had a pinched, disappointed look on his face.

"Eloise, you have to run along. We have other suitors vying for your time and attentions," Edward Spellman said, narrowing his eyes at Rainer. "Unless Guardian McKay has something he'd like to say."

Rainer opened his mouth and closed it, unsure why he couldn't just commit to what the king had asked. He planned to, but everything was happening too quickly. He wanted to make such a critical decision with a clear head.

Eloise gave him a flirtatious smile as she joined her father.

"Eloise, would you join me for a walk in the gardens tomorrow?" Rainer asked.

Her grin widened. "I would love to."

"Perfect, I'll meet you here after lunch."

She nodded and took her father's arm, leaving Rainer alone in the sitting room with his thoughts.

Eloise certainly wasn't subtle, but Rainer liked a woman who went after what she wanted. He'd prefer someone assertive over a wilting flower. Still, he felt like something wasn't clicking into place.

He couldn't start a life with someone when he wasn't even sure who he was. What if he became someone else when his memories returned and Eloise didn't like that person?

If his memory loss was permanent, then this seemed just as good a place to start as any, but something tugged in the back of his mind. Kissing Eloise had felt wonderful—warm and soft and soothing—but there was also a hint of wrongness, like he was trying to wield an unbalanced blade. He was uncertain if it was simply that he shouldn't have been kissing a woman he wasn't promised to, or that his body was expecting someone else. He stood and left the room.

He couldn't remember being with anyone before the attack, though he couldn't remember anything in the days leading up to his visit to Argaria. He could remember glimpses of things—speaking to Xander at a party, as well as conversations with Xander's traitor spymaster, Evan Farlan, the very man who had led the rebellion. Rainer had flashes of Xander's wedding to Jessamin and walking into a room where wisteria grew from pots as vibrantly as it grew in the wild. In that memory, a woman stood with her back to him and no matter how many times he tried to focus or how urgent the memory felt, he could never hold it long enough to get a good look at her.

He tore down the hallway toward the training room but stopped short when Xander ducked in the side door of the castle, brushing snow from his dark hair. He looked startled. Rainer's gaze narrowed on the box in his hands tied in twine.

"Sweet tooth?" Rainer asked.

Xander shrugged. "Jess is still getting used to life here and I ran out for sticky buns from my favorite bakery."

His demeanor had shifted too quickly. Rainer was certain he was hiding something.

"Can I see?"

Xander's hand tensed on the box for a moment before he nodded. "Of course."

Rainer pulled the twine before tipping back the box's lid. The scent of warm butter and sugar hit him as he looked down into a box that was indeed full of sticky buns.

Xander followed his gaze and let out a breath. "Want one, McKay?"

Rainer frowned and shook his head. "I'm on my way to training."

Xander rolled his eyes. "Of course. Perfect little soldier. How did your date with your future wife go?"

Rainer swallowed hard. "Eloise is a lovely woman."

"Quite opportunistic as well. But I suppose you and I have always had similar taste," Xander mused.

There was a challenge in his eyes that Rainer did not understand, and he didn't like his tone. Eloise was only doing what any woman in her position would and she seemed to be genuinely interested in Rainer.

"Am I permitted to carry on in my family castle or will I receive a pat down as well?" Xander taunted. "I'm sorry to disappoint, but if that's the case, I'd prefer a female guard."

Rainer rolled his eyes and stepped away. He retreated down the hallway to the training room. The prince was hiding something, that much was clear, and it was possible that Vincent had given him an assignment of which Rainer was unaware, but ever since the day Cecilia had been wounded, he hadn't trusted the prince.

Vincent seemed to doubt Xander, but the prince had resigned his power with ease and, if Rainer wasn't mistaken, relief. In the few memories he had from before, Xander had seemed anxious and apprehensive—even contemptuous—about ruling. Now he seemed more in his element skulking around the castle, and apparently sneaking out for pastries for his new wife.

Rainer shook his head. The more he tried to pull at the strings of his old life, the more unraveled he felt. He yanked off his tunic and wrapped his knuckles when movement outside the window caught his eye.

A young boy in plain, dirty clothes swung a practice sword. His form was sloppy but it was clear he was following a hunter training protocol. Rainer recognized it from watching the Argarian army warm up. He'd watched them working out for a month before he'd been released from his room in the castle.

The boy paused, smacking his head and chiding himself as he started over. Rainer was reminded of himself as a boy and he couldn't help but smile.

He cracked the door open. "Hey!"

The boy jumped, his wide eyes settling on Rainer. "Sorry, my lord. I swear I was going to put the practice sword back. I just wanted to try it out," he said softly, the tips of his ears growing red.

"That sword's too big and heavy for you. You need to start with something lighter."

The boy frowned. He couldn't have been older than seven.

"I can hold it just fine," he said, jutting out his chin.

Rainer grinned. "Sure, you can now, but after fifty repetitions your arm will be ready to fall off." He shook his head. "A sword should be an extension of your body. You need a blade you can hold onto. There are only two reasons a warrior lays down his sword: when he's dead, or when he's lost the will to fight."

The boy's eyes bulged. Rainer remembered the first time he'd heard an instructor say those words. He'd probably looked equally startled. But now he could only ever imagine laying down his blade in death—perhaps because that was the only way he could match his father's legacy. Rainer was certain he'd meet his end before he ever lost his will to to the one thing he excelled at. Quitting any earlier felt like succumbing to the poison Raymond McKay had spewed at him for years.

Rainer jerked his head to the side. "Come on in here and let's get you properly outfitted."

The boy hesitated, his eyes darting around the yard.

"What's your name?"

The boy looked up at Rainer sheepishly. "Michael. My mother works in the kitchen and she told me to stay out of trouble."

"Well, I won't tell if you don't tell and I hardly think training to become a warrior is trouble."

The boy grinned as he darted inside. He followed Rainer to the rack of weapons, his eyes wide as saucers as he took in the many different types and sizes of practice swords. Rainer picked one out and handed it to him.

"Try that one. Hold it out in front of you."

Michael held the sword out.

"Perfect," Rainer said.

He picked up his own wooden practice sword and walked to the middle of the room, Michael on his heels. He led the boy through his morning warm-up routine step by step. The kid was a fast learner. Though he was young, he quickly memorized the steps so that he could work on making them flow together seamlessly.

Rainer led him through the sequence several more times until it was like second nature. Then, he stood back and watched Michael, calling out corrections to his form.

When he was finished, the boy grinned up at him. "When do I get to fight?"

Rainer remembered that feeling well—the eagerness to prove yourself. The actual fighting was so woefully different. He'd quickly come to loathe the violence he'd been eager for.

"Hopefully not for a very long time, if ever," Rainer replied .

The boy frowned and dragged his toe across the floor. "Yeah, Ma says we might have to leave soon. She says the castle isn't as safe as it once was."

Rainer's stomach dropped. "Were you here for the attack?"

The boy nodded, his expression tightening with fear. "We hid in the pantry, but that's why I want to learn. Next time I want to be sure I can protect my mother."

Rainer swallowed hard. The boy was a kindred spirit, and Rainer remembered well the feeling of wanting to protect his mother. Raymond McKay's abuse had never turned physical, but his sharp words did their damage, and Rainer had done what he could to shield his mother.

"All right, I'll see you back here same time tomorrow. If anyone gives you a hard time, you tell them that Guardian McKay said that it was okay."

Michael grinned and nodded before darting out of the room.

It wasn't the workout Rainer had been counting on, but he felt relieved. Since waking, he'd been restless. Helping someone else recover in their own way made him feel calmer than he had in days. Strangely, it was the caretaking that left him feeling more at peace than his best training session.

He walked back to his room and bathed, then climbed into bed, listening to the wind rattle the windows of his bedroom.

Rainer stared at the shadows dancing across the ceiling. He should have felt settled after his interaction with Eloise. She was smart and kind and beautiful—everything he'd hoped for in a wife.

Still, he tossed and turned until sleep finally took him.

Orange sunlight streamed through large glass windows, painting shadows on the bedsheets. Waves crashed somewhere nearby. The salty scent of the sea blew in on a warm breeze.

Rainer's fingers threaded through Cecilia's, pinning her hands to the bed above her head. Her pale green dress was unbuttoned, giving a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage. He dipped down to draw a line of kisses over the curve of her breasts and she whimpered.

Her legs were wrapped around his hips, her skirt bunched around her waist. The softness of the skin of her inner thighs against him was driving him out of his mind as he thrust into her. Neither of them was completely undressed—too desperate for each other to be bothered.

She felt divine, tight and hot, and so wet for him as she lifted her hips to meet each thrust. She panted in his ear, "Rain."

He pulled back and paused, meeting her gaze. Her cheeks were flushed with exertion and her blue eyes sparkled as she smiled up at him.

"Say it," he whispered.

"I'm just for you, Rain," she said.

He moved faster, more frenzied. Wanting to make the words true. Wanting to prove to himself that she was all his.

She writhed beneath him, struggling to meet his rhythm, her breathing quickening until her fingernails dug into his hands and her back arched and she gasped. She clenched around him as she climaxed.

Rainer never wanted it to end. He bit his cheek to keep from going over the edge with her because she felt fucking perfect.

He wasn't ready to be done with her yet. He needed more of her. He wanted to make her react that way over and over.

When her body finally relaxed, she looked up at him with a huge smile on her face. She opened her mouth to speak ? —

Rainer woke to a loud whistle of wind through the windows. For a moment he was disoriented. The dream had been warm and bright, but the room was cold and dark. The fire burned low in the hearth. His head was pounding. Sweat soaked his skin and sheets.

He groaned.

A dream. It was just a dream—a shockingly realistic one.

He could practically taste the salt of her skin, smell her lemon-lavender scent, feel the heat of her body. He was painfully hard.

He tried to think of something, anything else, but he could only think of Cecilia—how good she'd felt beneath him, how perfectly in sync they were.

"The king's fiancée," he reminded himself.

Still, the logic did nothing to spoil the desire he felt.

He took himself in his hand roughly, stroking his cock. The bite of pain reminded him what wanting someone like her could do to him.

He tried to ignore that it wasn't the sex that had turned him on as much as the warmth that pulsed in his chest when she smiled at him, the possessiveness of the words "just for you." The way she trusted him. The way he felt connected and loved and whole. He came fast and hard, bright stars bursting behind his eyelids as he collapsed back to the bed, panting.

Rainer was fucked. Both literally and figuratively.

It's a one-time thing—to get her out of my head. It will never happen again .

But as quickly as the thought arose, Rainer knew it was a lie.