Revenge by Fiona McIntosh Page B

politely. ‘Are we to work?’
    ‘I don’t believe so. I think he might just appreciate some company, Miss Alyssa.’ His last few words were whispered for Lorys strode into the room.
    Alyssa stood, feeling nervous. Lorys was freshly bathed and droplets of water still clung to his beard and hair. His dark violet shirt was carelessly open and she could see his broad muscled chest beneath. Sheput down the beautiful glass goblet quickly. It was either that or break it with her grip.
    All the feelings she thought she had put aside came flooding back. He was beautiful. So much older than her and yet he was truly irresistible. His grief just made him more vulnerable, more desirable. She wanted to run but found a shaky smile as he looked at her briefly before addressing his valet.
    ‘Thank you, Koryn, for your help today. Please, have an early night. I will not be requiring anything more this evening.’
    Koryn bowed to his sovereign and departed. Drake, the King’s huge hound, escorted him to the door. The old man was quite used to this ritual and even wished the dog a very good night.
    Alyssa’s mind was racing. What should she say? How should she act?
    ‘Thank you for coming, Alyssa,’ the King said suddenly.
    She jumped.
    ‘Are you well?’ he asked, noticing how startled she seemed.
    ‘I…I…it’s been a very long day, your majesty. My apologies. I imagine you must be feeling it more than any of us.’
    She wished she could bite her own tongue out. What a stupid thing to say. He had not seemed to notice, though, and was pouring himself a goblet of wine. He asked her to sit. A small fire had been lit in the room, making it cosy. The nights were certainly cooler now and Alyssa’s mind shifted briefly toSaxon, wondering how he might be faring in the north as winter closed in.
    Lorys was never one for small talk. ‘I wish to discuss Gyl,’ he said.
    The topic was so unexpected that she swallowed her wine the wrong way in her surprise and began to cough.
    ‘Light, woman, what is wrong with you tonight? You are so jumpy.’ He leapt up to help.
    ‘No, sire, I’m fine. Please…I’m just not used to the wine. I got out of the habit whilst you were abroad,’ she spluttered.
    It was a poor attempt at deflection but it stopped him pounding her on the back or, even more terrifying, sitting next to her.
    ‘Alyssa, this is pure mother’s milk. It is called Morache. You should savour its gentle sweetness. Such an elegant wine, the result of a loving first press from that tiny green grape which grows on the hillsides of Arandon. I chose it especially for you.’
    She could not help but feel touched, even amused. ‘Thank you, sire. I like it very much—or at least I will as soon as I swallow it properly.’
    ‘Call me Lorys, Alyssa. We are not working now.’
    Dangerous, she told herself. ‘Um…you said you wanted to talk to me about Gyl, my lord?’
    Lorys sighed at her formality. ‘Yes…yes, I did. I have decided that the lad is to be elevated to a new position. Under-Prime will put him just one rank below Prime Herek. He is to be groomed for the top job.’
    Alyssa stood. ‘But, sire, that’s ridiculous!’
    When the King shot her a tired look over the top of his goblet, she gathered her wits. ‘Oh, my apologies to speak so plainly, my lord, but Gyl has just turned fifteen summers. You cannot expect the soldiers to take him seriously?’
    Lorys opened his mouth to respond but Alyssa had begun to pace and continued talking.
    ‘They will make a mockery of him. The men of the Shield can be cruel on a lad, sire. They consider it their duty to turn him into a man and I have seen them torture him—all good-naturedly of course—but torture nonetheless. He takes it in the very best of spirits and always returns for more but it troubles me. He is the only boy of that age in the garrison…he’s just too young.’
    She looked at Lorys imploringly.
    ‘He is no longer a boy, Alyssa. He is a man. Young, yes, but a