Read Online A Royal Marriage by Rachelle McCalla - Free Book Online

not remember his words, he wasn’t about to remind her of them.
    Unless she gave him the impression that she remembered, after all.
    John rubbed his temples again as he fled outdoors, grateful for the relative cool after the distressing warmth of the feverish princess.
    He’d passed Renwick’s sleeping form in the main hall of the inn, and so sought out his men patrolling the perimeter. He could only pray the Illyrians would think better of launching an assault. At the very least, they might postpone their attack until the Frankish princess was safely ensconced in the queen’s tower, the most securely buttressed point of the fortress at Castlehead.
    The thought of further harm coming to her filled him with cold dread. Obviously his reaction was due to their political entanglements. She was under his protection now and would remain so until he could hand her off to her betrothed or until her father sent a more substantial escort than the wounded ship with its inexperienced captain.
    Assuming, of course, she survived long enough for that to happen.
    * * *
    As the warm blankets and heated water chased her chills away and the cool herbs above her eye purged the poison of infection, Gisela’s thoughts began to make more sense, except for one thing.
    She missed the king’s presence.
    It was odd. She’d never been one to rely on any specific person to make her feel better. Her mother had died when she was a toddler, her father was a busy man and she had enough siblings, half siblings and servants that for most of her life she hadn’t concerned herself much about who was around. It had been enough to know that there were plenty of people nearby and that they all cared for her with more or less equal devotion.
    It was a strange sensation, wanting a particular person present, even though between Hilda and the innkeeper’s wife bustling about offering her blankets and hot tea, she might have preferred to be left alone.
    She told herself she simply wanted King John near so he could monitor her injury. And of course, she felt she could trust him.
    But it wasn’t as though she dis trusted her middle-age maid or the innkeeper’s wife.
    Still, the inexplicable longing wouldn’t go away.
    “Is he coming back?”
    “Is who coming back, Your Grace?” Hilda’s voice sounded haggard, and Gisela realized the woman would have normally been snoring for hours by this time of night.
    “King John.”
    “He just left not so long ago. I imagine he has matters to attend to.”
    “I see. Of course.” Gisela resolved to rest and forget about the king. “Don’t bother about the heated water, Hilda. You need your sleep.”
    “Thank you, Your Highness.”
    As Hilda settled onto the other mattress, it occurred to Gisela that, really, someone ought to fetch the king to look at her injury again before her maid went to sleep. Otherwise, assuming the innkeeper’s wife didn’t return (and she’d been gone long enough, Gisela supposed she’d retired for the night), there wouldn’t be anyone to fetch the king, if she needed him.
    “Hilda? Could you please ask the king to check my injury one last time?”
    “Yes, Your Highness.” The maid heaved herself to her feet and shuffled past.
    Gisela listened to the sounds of the night and wished she could see, but the swath of fabric that secured the herbs to her eyelid stretched across both of her eyes. Whether she’d be able to open even the left one without it, she wasn’t certain.
    The minutes crawled by slowly. Gisela had tried so hard to ignore her fears, but in the dark silence they taunted her with every unfamiliar noise. Without her sight she was particularly vulnerable, especially alone. Had she been unwise to send Hilda to fetch the king? Worse yet, what if the king and his guards were in the middle of some vital operation and Hilda stumbled into it?
    Gisela wasn’t entirely clear on the events that had preceded her arrival at the inn, but she’d caught enough of the discussion