Read Online Shard Knight (Echoes Across Time Book 1) by Matthew Ballard - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Matthew Ballard
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rich aroma drifting from the beef stew eroded his infatuation, and he fingered a spoon nestled on the serving tray. With his mouth watering, he scooped up a spoonful of broth laden with thick chunks of beef, green beans, squash, barley, and peas. When he took a bite, flavor burst inside his mouth. His headache faded, and new energy flowed through his body. He devoured the soup like a prisoner eating his last meal. Bite after bite entered his mouth and disappeared at record speed.
She paused mid-bite as a look of astonishment settled on her face. “I’ll take it you like my mother’s recipe?”
“Definitely.” He tore into the stew with abandon as his stomach urged him onward.
With her hand propped under her chin, she leaned forward and sat transfixed on Ronan as he inhaled the stew.
He finished the last bite, set the empty bowl on the serving tray, and eased back relaxing against the headboard.
She stood, crossed to the bed, and took Ronan’s empty bowl. “It’s a good sign that you have an appetite. I’ll get you some more.” She moved to the iron stove and grabbed the ladle.
“Thank you,” he said. “Do you mind if I ask your name?”
She refilled the bowl and placed it on Ronan’s serving tray.
“How rude of me. I’m Rika Finn.” She extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
Her skin felt warm and supple beneath his fingertips, and her handshake firm and in control. The set of calluses raised on her palm gave him pause, and he found himself wanting to know her better.
“This is the part where you tell me your name,” Rika said.
His belly fluttered. “My name?”
“You do have a name don’t you?”
“Of course.” His mind scrambled. Could he give her his real name? Could he trust her? “Peter. My name is Pete Latimer.” The stew sat like a lump in his stomach, and his appetite vanished. He regretted the lie as soon as it left his mouth.
“The same last name as the royal family. It’s a shame what happened to them.” Her eyes drifted away from him. She returned to the table, plopped onto the bench, and pushed away her beef stew.
Her demeanor had changed, and a frigid distance settled between them. Had he done something wrong? “What happened?”
“You wouldn’t know. How could you? Four nights ago, someone assassinated the queen and kidnapped Prince Ronan. Later that night…” Her lips flattened, and she crossed her arms.
“Later?”
She sighed. “Later that night the prince died in a house fire.”
“Did they catch the killer?” He held his breath.
“Not yet. The king has offered a hundred crown reward for his capture.”
Ronan leaned his head back with relief. “Who’s the king?”
“Merric Pride.” She spit out the words.
“He became king the moment the prince died. He led the funeral procession himself just yesterday.” Her eyes turned to ice. “He gave a speech in front of the church. Something about a return to a stronger Meranthia or some such nonsense.”
“You don’t sound like you’re a fan of the archbishop.”
“I don’t suppose I am.” She rose. “Can you roll over? I need to check your bandages.” She moved to his side. “I looked you over while you were sleeping. I think you have a couple of broken ribs. Also, there’s a large cut on your back. I’ve done my best to keep it clean, but I have to change the bandages or it’ll become infected.”
“I think I can manage.” He rolled to his side, and she moved in behind him. As she leaned over, her hair brushed against his side raising goose bumps along his back. With her presence, came the scent of lavender combined with cinnamon, and a warm flush spread through his body. He inhaled her sweet scent and relaxed as her hands went to work on the old bandage. “Why are you doing this for me? It would’ve been easier to leave me in that alley.”
“You saved my life. Those boys would’ve killed me if you hadn’t come along. I would never leave you like that.”
She
She paused mid-bite as a look of astonishment settled on her face. “I’ll take it you like my mother’s recipe?”
“Definitely.” He tore into the stew with abandon as his stomach urged him onward.
With her hand propped under her chin, she leaned forward and sat transfixed on Ronan as he inhaled the stew.
He finished the last bite, set the empty bowl on the serving tray, and eased back relaxing against the headboard.
She stood, crossed to the bed, and took Ronan’s empty bowl. “It’s a good sign that you have an appetite. I’ll get you some more.” She moved to the iron stove and grabbed the ladle.
“Thank you,” he said. “Do you mind if I ask your name?”
She refilled the bowl and placed it on Ronan’s serving tray.
“How rude of me. I’m Rika Finn.” She extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
Her skin felt warm and supple beneath his fingertips, and her handshake firm and in control. The set of calluses raised on her palm gave him pause, and he found himself wanting to know her better.
“This is the part where you tell me your name,” Rika said.
His belly fluttered. “My name?”
“You do have a name don’t you?”
“Of course.” His mind scrambled. Could he give her his real name? Could he trust her? “Peter. My name is Pete Latimer.” The stew sat like a lump in his stomach, and his appetite vanished. He regretted the lie as soon as it left his mouth.
“The same last name as the royal family. It’s a shame what happened to them.” Her eyes drifted away from him. She returned to the table, plopped onto the bench, and pushed away her beef stew.
Her demeanor had changed, and a frigid distance settled between them. Had he done something wrong? “What happened?”
“You wouldn’t know. How could you? Four nights ago, someone assassinated the queen and kidnapped Prince Ronan. Later that night…” Her lips flattened, and she crossed her arms.
“Later?”
She sighed. “Later that night the prince died in a house fire.”
“Did they catch the killer?” He held his breath.
“Not yet. The king has offered a hundred crown reward for his capture.”
Ronan leaned his head back with relief. “Who’s the king?”
“Merric Pride.” She spit out the words.
“He became king the moment the prince died. He led the funeral procession himself just yesterday.” Her eyes turned to ice. “He gave a speech in front of the church. Something about a return to a stronger Meranthia or some such nonsense.”
“You don’t sound like you’re a fan of the archbishop.”
“I don’t suppose I am.” She rose. “Can you roll over? I need to check your bandages.” She moved to his side. “I looked you over while you were sleeping. I think you have a couple of broken ribs. Also, there’s a large cut on your back. I’ve done my best to keep it clean, but I have to change the bandages or it’ll become infected.”
“I think I can manage.” He rolled to his side, and she moved in behind him. As she leaned over, her hair brushed against his side raising goose bumps along his back. With her presence, came the scent of lavender combined with cinnamon, and a warm flush spread through his body. He inhaled her sweet scent and relaxed as her hands went to work on the old bandage. “Why are you doing this for me? It would’ve been easier to leave me in that alley.”
“You saved my life. Those boys would’ve killed me if you hadn’t come along. I would never leave you like that.”
She
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