The Princes Bound [The Princes Book 1] (2 page)

All of that changed when his brother signed that damnable treaty with Roarke. Few were willing to take on the ruthless army of Bevelaire, so the rebels’ attention turned to Isidor. The impending bloodshed didn't sit well with Mathis, and though he couldn't blame his brother for it, he would be damned before he celebrated his brother's unwanted alliance with Bevelaire.

"The castle at Giordan will need to be fortified as well in the unlikely event the rebels breach Junsten.” Owen, Mathis’ childhood friend and most trusted advisor, suggested. His bright blue eyes were lit with purpose. “Would you like me to handle it?"

Mathis shook his head. “No. I have need of you and James here.” His gaze moved to a slight, gray-haired man who sat to his left. “Gerald, I trust you with this task."

Gerald, the oldest member of the council, nodded sharply. “Yes, Your Highness. I will see to it immediately.” He stood and strode from the room without another word.

Mathis stood and studied the three remaining men, who got to their feet as well. Edward, James, and Owen were the most knowledgeable of war. All three had trained in the army and saw their fair share of battle until they'd been appointed to their positions as advisors. He would need their expertise in the coming weeks. “The remainder of you will stay here in Isis and serve as advisors unless it becomes necessary for us to change tactics."

Mathis prayed it wouldn't be so. He'd seen enough war in his father's time to know the toll it could take on a kingdom. His father's reign had been a glorious one, but one shadowed with death.

Mathis leaned over the table to examine the map once again. The men hovered near him as he reviewed the plans they'd drawn.

"There is nothing else we can do tonight."

"No, Your Highness.” James, a former knight who'd lost an arm in battle, shook his head. “There is nothing to do but wait until the rebels make their move."

Satisfied they'd done all they could, Mathis waved his hand to dismiss his advisors. “We're as prepared as we can be. It's late. Go to your beds. We will reconvene tomorrow morning."

One by one, the men bid him goodnight. Once he was alone, Mathis banged his fist on the table in frustration. It was out of character for him, but he felt as if he had to do
something
.

He considered sending for his mistress, but quickly discarded the notion. He wasn't fit company for anyone tonight. Ever since he'd sent his refusal to Talin, he'd been uneasy. He knew his brother would never harm him, but some sort of retribution would be in order. He had to wait for his brother to make his intentions known, just as he waited for the rebels to reveal theirs.

He made notations on the map and jotted down topics to discuss with the council the next morning before he finally made his way to his bedchamber. His chamber was simple in design, which suited his nature. The only exception was an enormous bed, carved out of mahogany. Mathis had made it himself, intending it to be a gift to his mother, but she had died before he'd completed it. Though it was perhaps more feminine than one would imagine for the bed of a prince, he'd kept it out of sentimentality.

She'd been gone nearly twelve years, but Mathis still felt a pang of sorrow when he thought of his mother.

A knock sounded on the door behind him, and then his valet entered the room. As always, the valet's arms were laden with nightclothes and a jug of warm water for rinsing. The items were placed on the washstand and arranged in the order Mathis preferred. He dismissed his valet once the task was complete. “Thank you, Vincent. That will be all."

"Yes, Your Highness.” Vincent bowed and left the room.

Mathis disrobed and placed his clothing in a neat pile beside the door, where Vincent would retrieve them next morning. He crossed the room to stand before his open window. His chamber overlooked the carefully tended gardens of the palace.

The light of a full moon lent a silver tint to everything it touched, including his nude body as he stretched his arms overhead and sighed at the pull of his stiff muscles. He'd stayed hunched over the maps too long that day, and his body yearned for exercise. The smell of damp earth teased his nostrils as he leaned forward to gaze at the moon reflecting off the surface of the river beyond the palace gardens.

As young boys, he and Talin had spent hours down by the river. Talin had enjoyed fishing, while Mathis had preferred to wade in the water. Memories assailed him and made him long for days past, when his parents were still living, and their country had not yet been torn apart by war.

With a harsh sigh, Mathis turned away from the window and retrieved the pants he'd discarded.

A swim in the Dora River was exactly what he needed.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Moonlight glinted in silvery sparkles on the surface of the river. It was a beautiful night even though it had rained much of the afternoon. The damp ground Nadia sat on was rich with the black soil that made Isidor so desirable for farming.

A recruit ran to the river's edge, panting from lack of breath, and dropped to his knees beside Nadia. “The prince approaches, and he is alone."

Nadia tossed aside the apple she'd been devouring and cast her recruit a questioning look. “Are you sure?"

She and the recruit had merely been on a scouting mission. Never in a million years would she have imagined the prince would walk right into their clutches.

The eager young soldier nodded. His pale face gleamed with excitement. “Yes, Captain. He looks exactly like the sketches I've seen of Prince Talin's brother."

Nadia herself had not seen Mathis since childhood, but she vaguely remembered the two brothers were similar in looks. Both possessed an impressive height and wavy dark hair, but where Talin's eyes were as dark as the sea at night, Mathis’ were the blue of a robin's egg. If rumors were to be believed, they could almost pass for twins even though a year separated their births.

"Quick, hide!” Nadia motioned for the soldier to disguise himself among the undergrowth near the river's edge, and she did the same.

As soon as the branches stopped swaying, the prince stepped into view.

She knew it was Mathis before she even saw his face. He had the same regal bearing as Talin and moved with the expectation that nothing would deter him from his path. Perversely, she thought about grabbing his ankle as he passed. If he were to trip and stumble, it might make him seem more human.

She held herself very still as the prince moved past her. She finally glanced up his face and choked back a strangled gasp.

He is beautiful!

It was true he looked much like Talin, but Mathis’ features were more relaxed and open. His was a face that could be trusted. Unlike his older brother, Mathis seemed approachable and unguarded.

She'd made an agreement with Talin to bring his brother to the wedding, by force if necessary. She actually had the unfamiliar urge to leave him be, but she had never wavered from a duty, and she wasn't about to let a handsome face sway her now.

Not to mention, Talin would never allow her to live the shame down.

She got to her feet with the nimbleness of a cat but remained in a crouched position. She silently motioned for the recruit to stay where he was.

It was apparent Mathis had no clue he was being watched.

Moonlight glinted off the bare skin of his back. He was garbed in the apparel of a sultan, which Nadia had seen depicted in one of her father's books. All he wore was a pair of loose fitting white trousers. A colorful scarf was tied about his hips to keep the material from falling to his feet.

Her eyes roamed the muscular planes of his shoulders and back. He was leaner than his brother but still quite pleasing to the eye. He was also a shade lighter than Talin, probably owing to his more scholarly pursuits. Nadia had heard rumors he spent nearly two hours a day in the palace library to further his learning.

Talin was more athletic, preferring to train with the soldiers or participate in hunting trips. It was intriguing how completely alike in looks the brothers were, but total opposites in personality.

Mathis stopped at the edge of the water as his hands moved to the scarf. She crept toward him as he untied the ends of the colorful material and shoved his trousers to the ground.

She nearly choked on her own tongue. As a soldier, she'd seen more than her fair share of nude men, but Mathis was a wonder to behold.

The same golden color of the skin of his back matched the tone of his bare ass.

He must swim in the nude often—in the daylight!

She gave a delicious shiver at the thought but quickly turned her wandering mind back to the matter at hand.

Still seemingly oblivious to the presence of others, Mathis kicked his trousers toward the bank. The muscles of his thighs tightened as he leaned forward and dove into the river, barely causing a ripple in the smooth current.

Nadia remained motionless as Mathis surfaced and shook his head, sending droplets of water out in a circle around him. He lay back, and her gaze dropped to the area between his legs. Flaccid, his cock floated right beneath the surface of the water. She marveled at the size even in a state of non-arousal.

There was no telling how long she would've stayed and gawked at him, but her recruit inched forward and tapped the toe of her boot, and she jerked her eyes away from the enticing sight of the naked prince. He would probably fuel her dreams for many long, lonely nights to come.

She put her finger to her lips to remind the recruit to keep silent as she withdrew a tiny dagger from the sheath at her waist. The dagger was a prop. She would never dare harm a member of the royal family, but she had to gain some sort of leverage over the prince to get him to come with them.

She couldn't risk him sounding the alarm and preventing her daring abduction scheme. Mathis would never agree to come with her willingly. His refusal to Talin already proved that. She would have to use other means to get him back to Noventia.

She waited for his swim to come to an end. When it did, she was ready. As his bare feet stepped onto the mossy bank, she leaped from her hiding spot and tackled him to the ground. She pressed the point of her dagger to a prominent vein in his neck.

At first, he appeared shocked by her attack. When he realized she was a woman, he let out a hearty laugh.

"What sort of seduction is this? Tell me, sweet lady, did Trevor put you up to this?"

His voice was silky smooth, but a hard edge underlined the words. She could tell he didn't like being bested; it was apparent by the firm way he held his jaw.

"I'm afraid I don't know any Trevor. Now do as you're told, Your Highness, and you won't be harmed."

His beautiful eyes narrowed in warning. “I am the prince of this realm, and I order you to sheathe your weapon at once."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

His damp skin soaked through her clothing, and she repressed a shiver at the chill. She was a soldier, and a soldier couldn't afford to show weakness.

The prince moved under her, and she was nearly jostled to the ground. She tightened her grip on the dagger and pressed it sharply to his neck. “Careful, Prince. We wouldn't want to spill any royal blood today. I promise you, as long as you follow my command, you will remain safe."

His body went lax, but his eyes continued to flash with unconcealed anger. “Who sent you?"

It was too early to reveal all, so she attempted to change the subject. “A fairer question would be what is a prince doing out at night without his guard?"

Although he had to know he was trapped, his chin lifted a notch. “My kingdom is a peaceful one."

His composure was commendable.

Nadia glanced over her shoulder to instruct the recruit. “Stefan, fetch his Highness’ clothing and be quick about it."

When she looked back at the prince, he had a queer look on his face. She immediately tensed. “What is it?"

"You remind me of someone..."

She averted her face as well as she could while still being able to keep a watch on him. “You are mistaken, Prince. I've never been one to keep company with princes.” Although it was a blatant lie, she thought it best he didn't associate her with Noventia, nor with his brother, until they had him completely bound.

Stefan returned with the clothing, and under her direction, quickly helped the prince into his garments.

It was a shame she had to cover such perfection, but she couldn't very well go traipsing about the countryside with a naked, bound prince at her side.

He had gotten himself into a fine mess this time.

Mathis once again cursed his unfortunate decision to go to the river alone. He was trussed up like a Christmas goose and at the mercy of a still unnamed enemy.

He doubted the group of five men and one woman were the rebels who had been causing trouble up north. If they had been part of the rebellion, they probably would've killed him upon sight. In addition, the six he traveled with were evidently soldiers, and rumor had it, the rebels mostly consisted of dissatisfied tenants and lower gentry.

So if not the rebels, then who?

The woman rode at his side, apparently to make sure he didn't try to make his escape. Mathis found it intriguing a woman was the leader of the group that had abducted him. It was not uncommon for women to join the military, but few rose to a position of leadership.

She pulled ahead of him, but the lad she'd called Stefan drew up to take her place.

Mathis eyed her as she rode ahead to speak to the others.

A long, dark braid bounced against her back. The ends of the braid brushed against the saddle, and he envisioned how it looked unbound. The tiny curls at her temples hinted it would be wavy. He didn't doubt it would be a glorious sight when loosened from that tight braid.

His gaze roved lower. Tight, brown breeches stretched across the curve of her ass and clung lovingly to her long, slim thighs.

All in all, she was quite a specimen. In different circumstances, he may have flirted with her. Perhaps they would have even enjoyed a dalliance. But under the current conditions, he would rather bed a viper. He did not enjoy being made a fool. His situation could be much worse, true, but he held a grudge nonetheless.