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Grace.”
    “Then I assume it was because he did not feel
you worthy of her hand. Does the warrior dislike you? Distrust you?”
    “It wasn’t that, either, Your Grace,”
Seyzon said.
    “What other reason could he have had then?”
the prince questioned, but before Seyzon could answer he held up a belaying
hand. “Wait, let me guess Lord Alden’s reason. Mayhap he feared reprisal if you
went behind my back and did what you fucking knew I was not going to like !”
    The last words were shouted at him with so
much anger and acid spite Seyzon staggered back.
    “Your Grace—”
    “ Shut your fucking mouth, Montyne! ”
the prince bellowed. “You knew better. You of all people knew
what you were doing was prohibited!” He stormed across the room and reached out
to brutally grip Seyzon’s chin. “You fucking knew better! How dare you, Seyzon. How dare you go against me this way?”
    Flinching when his chin was released,
Seyzon drew his brows together in an attempt to convey his regret. “I am sorry,
Your Grace. I…”
    “Get the hell out of my sight,” the prince
cut him off.
    Seyzon hesitated. He wanted to have a
chance to explain to his boyhood friend why he had disobeyed.
    “That was not a request made by a friend,
Montyne,” the prince told him with narrowed eyes. “That was an order given by your Overlord!”
    Seyzon stared into the depths of the
prince’s pale-blue eyes and saw murderous rage lurking there. One wrong word
from him might push Vindan Brell over the edge. Silently, he nodded then
executed a perfect salute before turning for the door.
    “Send the woman to me.”
    Whipping his head around, Seyzon felt icy fingers
of fear dragging down his spine. He knew better than to ask why his Overlord
wanted to see Jana. He dared not open his mouth lest Jana suffer alongside him.
Instead, he nodded slowly and turned back to the door.
    Exiting the sacristy, he was struck by the
weight of every eye in the chapel looking at him. Jana’s tearful gaze bit into
him as sharply and deep as his enemy’s dagger had on the battlefield. He felt
her terror as keenly as the air he drew raggedly into his lungs.
    “He wants to speak with you,” he told his
bride, avoiding the eyes of both her brother and Joseph.
    “What did he say?” she asked, her mouth
trembling. She held her hands out to him and he took them. Her fingers were as
cold as ice.
    “Nothing. Yet.” He shot a quick glance to
Joseph then away. “I think my punishment hinges on what you say to him. He
would not give me an opening to tell him why I disobeyed his edict.”
    “I will tell him,” she stated.
    “Be careful, milady,” he begged her,
searching her face for she was as pale as a ghost.
    “I will make it right,” she told him.
    Jana entered the sacristy on legs that felt
as though they might give way beneath her at any moment. Her Overlord was
leaning against a cabinet, his gaze intent, face without expression.
    “Close the door,” he ordered.
    She did as he bid then turned, dropping to
the floor, her knees hitting the wooden planks with a dull thud. “Your Grace—”
    “I did not give you permission to speak,
Madame!” he snapped.
    Clamping her lips tightly together, she
stared at him with growing terror, striving to quell her trembling.
    “Answer only with a nod or a shake of your
head,” he instructed. “Did your brother advise you not to accept Lord Seyzon’s
proposal?”
    Slowly she nodded, her chest heaving as she
struggled to breathe normally.
    “Did he tell you what had happened to the
last man who went against my policy of asking for permission to propose?”
    She shook her head for Alden had not—at
that time—told her anything of the punishment that had been meted out, though
she now knew of it. Neither had Seyzon broached the subject with her. If he
had, she would not have accepted his proposal.
    “Then I will tell you,” he said. “I had the
man in question strung up in the bailey and my executioner took the