Promising Light

Promising Light

Book One of The
Protectors

By Emily Ann Ward

Copyright 2011 by Emily
Ward

Smashwords Edition, License
Notes

This ebook is licensed for your
personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given
away to other people. If you would like to share this book with
another person, please purchase an additional copy for each
recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or
it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to an
ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting
the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any
actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.

The Protectors Series:

Book One: Promising
Light

Book Two: Promising Hope

Book Three: Promising Power
(Upcoming)

The Protectors Prequels

Shifting Light

Fire and Light

The End of Light

Burning Light (Omnibus
Edition)

Also by Emily Ann Ward:

Passages (Seven Short
Stories)

Beyond Home (Three Short
Stories)

Finding Fiona

To my mom, who always made me read
a book before I could watch TV.

Chapter One

Grace loved the vineyard. It
stretched over miles and miles, and she and Dar could disappear for
hours without anyone ever finding them. Today it was warm, the sun
baking down on the grapes, causing the fragrance to surround
them.

She lay on a blanket Dar had
brought, staring up at the clouds. Dar was next to her, putting
flowers in her blonde hair. His olive-colored skin was dark from
the summer sun, and his black hair, in need of trimming, curled at
his ears. The two of them were hidden in a remote corner of the
vineyard where grape vines touched the ground next to
them.

“You look like a
nymph,” Dar said. He pulled his hands back and gazed intently at
her with a soft smile on his face. His gaze traveled over her hair,
her face, her breasts. “I wish I could freeze this moment in time
and carry it around with me.”

Grace took his hand, raised it to
her lips, and kissed it. She hesitated before saying what she’d
been thinking about all day. “Dar,” she whispered, “I don’t want to
keep sneaking around.”

His smile faded. He let go of her
hand and ran his fingers along her jaw. “I know. I don’t
either.”

“So?” she asked,
raising her eyebrows.

“Your father wouldn’t approve of
me.”

She huffed. “Do you even know why
he doesn’t like your family?” She didn’t understand her father’s
hostility toward them, considering Dar’s father was a respected
governor. Things like wealth and status mattered to her father, who
was the king’s general. Grace had only met Dar’s parents a few
times, and they seemed like good people who ruled Shyra well. His
mother had always been friendly to her at social events.

Dar didn’t meet her eyes. “I have
an idea.”

“You do?”

He kissed the line of her jaw
softly, sending shivers down her spine. “I think so.”

She wouldn’t be distracted. “Well,
what is it?”

“Shyra doesn’t have a very good
reputation.”

In court, Shyra was mostly spoken
of as a poor state overrun with fake magicians and crime. She’d
only been there once and it seemed like a typical farming state,
not much worse than the seedy areas of Renaul. If someone as good
as Dar came out of it, the place couldn’t be horrible. He kissed
her neck, and she closed her eyes.

“I don’t know,” she said, her
voice shaky. “It seems like more than that.”

“Maybe you should ask
him.”

She laughed. “He probably doesn’t
even realize we know each other.”

Dar raised his head, meeting her
eyes. “You probably know me better than anyone.”

She furrowed her brow. “I don’t
know…” She trailed off as she ran her fingers through his soft
curls. “It seems like there’s a lot about you I don’t
know.”

“You know the important things,”
he said, his voice quiet.

She didn’t say anything for a
moment. She wished that were the case, but she doubted it. It hurt
because she knew the opposite was true: Dar knew her better than
anyone. He had some competition with Jocelyn, her closest friend
since childhood, but Grace felt like she’d always hidden something
from her, as well as from her parents and her brother. Not one
specific thing or an unseemly secret about herself, just something
about her very nature, as though she may not be good
enough.

She’d never had those fears with
Dar. She’d given all of herself to him in the last six months, even
if it hadn’t been wise. Their relationship had started off playful,
but she’d fallen for him quickly. He knew everything about her,
from the birthmark on her stomach to how she liked her tea to her
secrets, fears, and dreams. Yet Dar still had his secrets and a
past that he tried to keep hidden.

“What about what happened two
years ago?” she asked.

Dar’s face tightened. He lay down
next to her, resting his head on her shoulder. He’d talked about
some kind of tragedy that happened two years ago in Shyra, but he’d
never given her the details. She never pushed him, but now she
wanted to know.

“My parents took in two girls when
I was four,” he said. “They were like my sisters.”

Grace touched the back of his head,
her eyes wide. She’d always thought Dar was an only
child.

“Two years ago… my family got into
some trouble, and a lot of people were killed. One of my sisters
nearly died, and the other disappeared. I haven’t seen her
since.”

He’d lost so much. She feared
saying anything in case he withdrew again. She ran her fingers
through his hair. His body moved softly against hers as he breathed
in and out.

“I want to see her again. I want
to apologize for everything.”

“What would you say?” she
whispered.

“‘
Sierra, I’m
sorry. I never should have let…’” Dar trailed off. He sat up
suddenly, his back to Grace.

She sat up and felt flowers fall
from her hair. She touched his shoulders, and he tensed.

He got to his feet and kept his
face averted from her. “I want that stuff to stay in the past,
Grace. I don’t want it to come between us.”

She pursed her lips. Couldn’t he
see that keeping things from her would come between them? After
standing, she started to gather up the blanket. “Well, then, you
shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Things like what?”

“‘
You know me
better than anyone.’” His gaze lingered on her as she folded the
blanket. She looked at him, and he crossed the distance between
them.

“I wish I could tell you
everything.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “But I know it’s
better for both of us if I don’t.”

She stepped away and picked up the
blanket. “We should go. We’ve been here for two hours
already.”

Dar took the blanket from her, and
she picked up her bag. Maybe she was being unreasonable. She took
his hand and leaned toward him. Why did he feel like he couldn’t
tell her things about him? She’d told him everything about
her.

They walked silently to the end of
the vineyard where they came from, the opposite end of Sir Henry’s
manor. The grapes twisted around wires and poles on either side of
them. Dar took a few grapes and handed some to Grace. She played
with them, running her fingers over the dusty surface.

“Do you talk to Lady Rebekah about
your past?” she asked, her eyes on the ground.

Dar laughed. “No. Rebekah and I
don’t talk about anything deep at all. When I talk with her, I
think about you. When I kiss her, I think about you.”

He thought about Grace, and yet he
was courting someone else. Not her. She hated to think of him
kissing someone else, especially Rebekah Mortren. Flighty, shallow
Rebekah.

They reached the spot where they
usually parted ways. “I’ll see you later?” Dar said.

She nodded and glanced down at
their hands. “Nothing in your past could change the way I feel
about you. I care about you. Not what’s happened to
you.”

He kissed her, holding her face in
his hands. He pulled away and rested his forehead on hers. “I
know.”

She stepped back. “Goodbye.” She
turned and left. A few minutes later, she looked over her shoulder,
but he was gone. He did that often: just disappeared. She worried
he’d do that to her someday, just leave her behind without a
thought.

* * *

Meet me at The Boar’s Bar at
midnight. Come alone.

Grace stuffed the note into her
pocket. She didn’t recognize the handwriting, and there was no
name. Her attempts to guess who might have sent it were fruitless,
but it had to have been someone who knew her curiosity often
overruled her common sense. She hoped it was Dar, even if it wasn’t
a very original way to get her alone. Since their small argument in
the vineyard a couple days ago, she’d been waiting for a chance to
see him.

A stout man stumbled to the
barstool next to her. “Another pint!” he yelled at the bartender.
He looked at Grace through greasy blond hair. “Well, hello! Haven’t
seen you around here before.”

Grace gave him a tight smile. Could
he be the one who sent the note? He wasn’t the type she was
expecting, to say the least. “I’ve never been here
before.”

“Really? What do you think so
far?” he asked.

She glanced around the tavern.
Pockets of people were rowdy while others sat by themselves in the
corners. A strong smell of garlic hung in the air. It wasn’t the
worst she’d seen in Renaul, but she knew her mother would faint if
she knew Grace was here. The light was dim, but still, she didn’t
see any nobles. She shrugged and noticed that his eyes were roving
over her traveling cloak, no doubt looking for some bared skin. “It
seems like a normal tavern to me.”

The man laughed as the bartender
returned with another pint. “I’ll have you know that this is the
best bar in the city.” He paused to take a gulp of his beer. “Can
tell why you’ve never been here, though. Too rich for us folk,
yeah? Had to travel all the way across the river?”

If he was the one to ask her here,
why was he making conversation like this? Grace sipped her mead.
“What makes you think that?”

He was about to respond when he
looked over her shoulder and fell silent. Someone tapped her on the
arm. Grace turned around; a man with a hood pulled over his head
bowed and said, “Lady Grace.”

His voice was almost drowned out by
the people around them, but she thought it might be Dar’s. She
smiled. “You still insist on being anonymous?”

“Perhaps we could talk outside,”
he said. She could only glimpse the lower half of his face, the
outline of his jaw. In the poor lighting, she couldn’t make any
conclusions about his identity.

Grace stepped off her barstool. She
told the man at the bar, “Goodnight, sir.”

“Tha’s how I know—normal people
don’t talk like that,” the man said as she followed the hooded
figure outside.

The brisk night air hit Grace when
the man opened the door for her. She saw his hand on the door—pale,
short fingers, a silver ring around his pinky. He wasn’t Dar. She
pulled her cloak around her, her mind racing with
questions.

The smell of garlic lingered
outside, too. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man grab
for her arm. She stepped away, avoiding his hand. “Why did you want
me to come here?”

The man glanced around, his face
turned toward a pair of men laughing by their horses. One of them
stumbled on something, falling to the ground, and they just laughed
harder.