The Kitchen Witch (35 page)

You'd think a prince's clerk would have offered me at least a cup of water
, she thought with an inward sniff,
let alone a crust of bread
.

Standing, she paced the chamber. It only took a moment to go from end to end. A single glance was enough to show her four bare walls of rough planks, a bare floor, and a straw mattress on a wooden frame. Her silent companion still wrote on. He was youngish, perhaps a year or two older than
her own
twenty-four, dressed in sober black, light hair combed neatly back.

She sidled closer, peering sideways at the page he was writing. A black sleeve moved to block her view.

"Good day," he said, though he did not look up again and the quill did not so much as pause.

"And to you," she answered with a sigh, retreating to her seat again and fixing her eyes expectantly on the door.

Any moment now it would open and the Prince of
Venya
would stand before her in the flesh. Her heart gave a nervous lurch. He was the hero of a hundred songs and stories, the sorcerer pirate whose name struck terror into every captain on the nine seas. Bold and dashing, wily and clever, the Prince of
Venya
was as deadly to his foes as he was loyal to his followers. It was widely sung that a single smile had the power to melt a woman's bones within her flesh.

Not that Rose wanted her bones melted, if such a thing were even possible. All she wanted was one small favor. Surely that was not too much to ask of the Prince of
Venya
, the living embodiment of every chivalric ideal!

"Your Highness," she would say firmly, "you must help me."

No, that wouldn't do. She had a feeling that a pirate—let alone a prince—did not take orders well.

"
Venya
and
Valinor
were once allies. Now I offer you a new alliance, one that will work to your advantage."

She nibbled at her thumbnail. That sounded well. The only trouble was
,
it was a lie. The moment he asked
how
it would work to his advantage, all would be lost. Perhaps something a bit more spirited would catch his interest.

"What ho, Your Highness, Rose of
Valinor
here. Damned if I'm not in a bit of a spot. Long story—uncle hates me—think he wants me dead. What say you play the hero and get me to
Sorlain
?"

She groaned, starting on another nail.
Spirited, yes.
But she doubted idiotic would appeal to him.

"I am Rose of
Valinor
and I am fleeing for my life.
Venya
and
Valinor
were allies for many years and the breaking of that alliance is something I regret with all my heart.
Venyans
have ever acted with honor toward my people; for that I dare appeal to you to help me to
Sorlain
."

Yes. That was it. Calm, dignified, yet spirited—if only she could remember it. She drew a breath and closed her eyes.

"
Your
Highness," she murmured. "I am Rose of
Valinor
and—and—oh, bloody hell, I've forgotten it already. Where in blazes is he?"

"I'm sorry?"

Her head whipped toward the clerk. "Listen, can you possibly hurry things up a bit? I haven't got all day."

"Nor have I. Your pardon, lady, but the letter could not wait."

For a clerk, his voice was oddly cultured, the words tinged with an accent she could not quite define.

He stood and stepped from behind the writing table. He was clad entirely in black, but now that she saw him fully, she could not call it sober. His flowing shirt was unlaced halfway down his chest and tucked into a pair of sable breeches that clung to the hard muscles of his thighs. Bare feet were silent on the wooden floor as he approached.

This is no mere clerk
, she thought uneasily. He must be one of the prince's men. She swallowed hard and sat a little straighten The Prince of
Venya
might commit acts of piracy, but he had been driven to such desperate measures by cruel necessity. At heart, he was no pirate, but a nobleman. What she had not considered was that
his crew—even
his clerk—would be the real thing.

A thin white scar, very prominent against his sun-bronzed skin, ran down one cheek; another through an eyebrow. A gold ring glittered in his ear. Looking into that hard young face, Rose sensed instinctively that this man knew more about survival than she could ever hope to learn.

Or wanted to.

She swallowed hard and stood, taking a step back as he continued to advance. The stool overturned with a small clatter that she barely noticed. Another step and
her
back was to the wall.

"I suppose an introduction is in order," he said, sweeping her a bow that no courtier could have bettered for its grace. There was nothing of the humble clerk about him now. How could she have ever been so blind as to mistake this man for a servant?

Stupid, credulous fool
, she raged at herself,
they never meant for me to see the prince at all. I have been tricked, trapped… and sold? Oh,
Jehan
, not that, not sold. Not me
!
But why not her?
It happened every day, women carried off by pirates and never seen again.
At least now I'll know what becomes of them
, she thought. She almost laughed, but the sound tangled in her throat and came out as a gasping sob.

She shot a desperate glance toward the door, praying that even now the prince would walk in and rescue her. But that hope died when the pirate spoke again.

"
Rorian
of
Venya
at your service."

BERKLEY
SENSATION

COMING IN NOVEMBER

Miss Fortune
by Julia London

The third book in the Lear sisters trilogy, in which the last of the sisters must get her head out of the clouds and her feet on the ground to find love in order to fulfill her father's last dying wish. 

The Demon's Daughter

by
Emma Holly

Inspector Adrian Philips' job is to keep the peace between humans and demons, and he's hated by both sides. But when he meets Roxanne, a fellow outcast, he will risk everything for a dangerous love.

Arouse Suspicion
by Maureen
McKade

Ex-cop Danni Hawkins must come to terms with her father's murder and, along with the help of an ex-Army
Ranger,
she must track the path to a brutal murderer. 

The Prince
by Elizabeth
Minogue

Prince
Florian
wants only to reclaim his throne. But when he is forced to help Rose of
Valinor
, he finds the last thing he ever expected—
love
. 

Available wherever books are sold or at www.penguin.com