Sacrifice: The Lady and the Duke

Chapter 4: Enter Duke Roger of Conte (You knew it was coming)….

Lady Alanna of Trebond gazed upon the clear night sky, aware she was being watched. It was right there, at the nape of her neck: that taunt prickle that always warned of danger. Giving a wistful sigh, worthy of any court lady, Alanna palmed a small throwing knife in her right hand.

Her visitor coughed discretely. Alanna did not reply, nor did she turn around, hoping the intruder would go away. She had come out to the balcony for a moment of privacy, but it seemed she would not get it. She was sick to death of all these lying people who all, in one way or another, wanted something from her. All she wanted was to be left alone.

"My Lady?" The voice was male, a light tenor and, if possible, rather musical. Alanna shivered in spite of herself.

"Lady, are you cold?"

That got her attention. If he was close enough to see her shiver, he was too close to her by half. Turning, she pasted on a smile, "Nay, sir-"

He was handsome, no question - and tall, over six feet. His upper body was muscular and he had strong, capable hands. Aware of her scrutiny, he smiled, all charm and confidence. Alanna frowned. This man bore a striking resemblance to the Prince, for all that his hair held more brown that Jon's and his eyes...

Bright, riveting blue. Alanna had never seen such eyes. She quivered hard, unable to understand why she was suddenly afraid.

"Lady?" he prompted.

Alanna laughed, knowing he'd take the flush on her cheeks for embarrassment, not fear. "Beg pardon, good sir. You startled me." He examined her with those unearthly eyes, so amazingly blue, as if he knew she was lying. Alanna's heart was suddenly in her throat.

"Alanna!" Gary called from the terrace doorway. "So this is where you've been hiding!"

"Lord Gareth!" Alanna offered the knight her left hand, relief flooding though her.

"Come now," Gary took her hand, smiling. "How many times must I insist that you call me Gary-"

Shoving away her sense of unease, Alanna squeezed his hand, hard. Gary frowned at her. Realizing they were not alone, Gary turned to the man. "Lord Roger, I apologize. I did not see you there."

"Indeed, Lord Gareth. Nor did - Alanna, is it?" the man inquired, on eyebrow raised.

So this is Duke Roger of Conte, Alanna noted, rather unimpressed. "Lady Alanna of Trebond, your Grace," Alanna replied archly.

He was watching her again. Alanna gave him stare for stare, hostility running through her. What was wrong with these Conte men? Were they all conceded bores that never introduced themselves?

"I did not see you at dinner, my lord," Gary interrupted, somewhat uneasily. "When did you arrive?"

"Just a few moments ago." The Duke, his eyes now everyday blue, smiled at Alanna. "I was trying to escape the crowd when I discovered my hiding place had already been taken."

Gary laughed, but the laugh did not reach his chestnut eyes. "Not to worry, my Lord. If Lady Alanna would permit me to escort her, we will move out of your way--"

"Not at all, Sir Gareth," the Duke replied. Turing to Alanna, he gave a lavish bow, "May I dance with you, Lady Alanna?"

Alanna's eyes narrowed. The Code of Chivalry demanded that Gary give way to the Duke's higher rank, and they all knew it. She, however, was not bound by the Code. A refusal rushed to her lips. Alanna wanted nothing more than to be away from this strange, handsome Duke. His very presence shook her and his smile alarmed her unreasonably. Gary's look of apprehension did nothing to ease her fears. Alanna and Gary had become fast friends during her time at court, and Alanna knew that any concerns Gary might have for her were valid. On the other hand, Alanna had never let fear control her actions.

Stealing herself, Alanna took Duke Roger's arm. "Your Grace."

The ballroom was crammed full of courtiers but Duke Roger's effect on the crowd was immediate. He had almost every eye in the room. The women wanted him and the men wanted to be him. All of them moved out of their way as the Duke escorted her to the dance floor. Alanna, refusing to be out done by the uppity duke, gave an elegant curtsy as the music started, a pleasant smile on her lips.

"This is your first time to court," he stated as they moved gracefully around the floor.

"Yes, my lord." Alanna replied.

Roger smiled at her, his eyes becoming intensely bright once again. "And what do you think of court so far?" he asked sweetly.

Alanna shivered but refused to let him stare her down. Clearing her throat, she replied, "Very interesting, your Grace."

"Oh, please!" he exclaimed. "Do call me Roger, won't you? 'Your Grace' makes me feel old, and I don't think you'd mind, seeing that use Sir Gary's given name so freely."

Alanna resisted the urge to rube her temples. She suddenly had a fierce headache. "Very well, Roger."

He smiled grandly, as if she'd pleased him. "You are a remarkable creature, Lady Alanna of Trebond. Not so beautiful as half the women here, but still you've set the court on it's ear."

Alanna found that she couldn't look away from him. He is very handsome, she thought.

"There is even talk that my cousin is smitten with you," he continued. Alanna, who had heard the talk as well, found those rumors laughable. They had spent little time together since their first encounter, as Alanna avoided the Prince like the plague. The Prince is nothing but a boy, compared to this man, she thought, a giggle escaping her lips.

Blinking hard, Alanna tried to speak, but found that her mouth was too dry. She frowned, wondering what made her think such nonsense. She didn't even like Roger.

He must have seen her frown. "Never a worry, pet," he whispered to her, sapphire eyes flaring. Suddenly, Alanna felt like she was drowning in blue fire. "You'll do nicely," he went on, eyes never leaving hers. "I had thought to use Delia, but you'll do much better, darling."

Alanna tried to shake her head, but found that she only nodded. She ordered her body to stop dancing, to fight, to do something - anything - but nothing happened.

"We'll dance until the end of everything, my darling," his words seemed to echo in her head, forcing every other thought out. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. "Promise me we'll dance forever."

Alanna's mind screamed in protest. She clenched her jaw and tasted copper. Promise him? Promise him what? She would promise this man nothing. This man was nothing to her. This man....Alanna wondered sluggishly....who is this man?

A voice suddenly rang out clearly in Alanna's thoughts, cutting through the fog clouding her mind. This man is your enemy!

Alanna gasped as time slammed back into place, managing to catch herself before she stumbled. Glaring at Roger, Alanna's gift roared to life, shielding her.

Roger watched her, his blue eyes a little wide. "Are you well, Lady Alanna?"

Alanna did not reply at first, instead using the last two turns of the dance to reassert control over herself. "Just a headache, your Grace."

His eyes narrowed, "Perhaps you need a healer?" he asked as the music began to soften. "I know a little magic, myself. Perhaps I could ease the ache?"

Looking directly into his eyes, Alanna was overcome by complete and total hatred. The creature before her was evil. This man was her enemy. She didn't understand why or how but she knew that he was her enemy and she hated him with all that she was. She wanted him dead. "I know your kind of magic," she hissed, amethyst eyes blazing in fury, "and I've no need of that evil."

The Court watched them, remarking on what a striking couple the two made: the tall, handsome man and the small, fierce woman. He smiled at her smugly, "Such harsh words. Never say never, my pet, you just might regret it." There was no mistaking the threat in his voice.

As the music ended, the courtiers watched the Lady and the Duke bow gracefully to each other.

"Before this is done," she hissed though a spectacularly false smile, "I'll see you dead."

And on it goes…..