Read Online The Commander's Desire by Jennette Green - Free Book Online Page B

bread she could eat in the kitchen. She altered her steps
to see.
     
    * * * * *
     
    “ She hates you,” the Prince
said.
    “ Yes,” the Commander agreed.
He watched Elwytha glide off, her slim shoulders stiff beneath the
hideous brown dress. But she was not as hard as she wished him to
believe; he knew that now. Last night, he had attributed her tears
to the shock of her betrothal to him, and a first night’s
uneasiness within the enemy palace. But today her hot temper and
the faint tremble to her hands just now belied the cold vixen she
pretended to be. As a warrior, he was trained to spot all chinks in
an opponent’s armor.
    Beneath the hard princess exterior lived a
vulnerable woman.
    The Prince interrupted his thoughts, “You
still wish her, then?”
    “ Yes,” he growled. In fact,
he wished for her more now, after seeing her fiercely suppressed
emotions, than ever before.
     
    * * * * *
     
    “ I wish to see the armory,”
Elwytha said the next morning, after a filling breakfast and
troubled sleep. Never mind that the Commander had forbidden it
yesterday. She plotted something else entirely today.
    Her betrothed sat writing on a parchment at a
table. Again, surprise filled her that he could read or write.
    His eyes narrowed. “I will not trust you in
the armory.”
    “ I am bored,” she said,
pretending petulance. Never could he guess her true intent. “I wish
to sport.”
    The mutilated brow raised. “You wish to
sport? Then you will sport with me.”
    Elwytha frowned, but inside she smiled. How
blindly he had stepped into her trap. “Very well. If you
insist.”
    He stood. “At last, then, you will admit that
you are a warrior?”
    “ I admit a skill with
weapons practice,” she said, following him into the hall. “It
brightened many a boring day as a child. My brother…” she stopped,
as a lump caught in her throat. How could she speak of her beloved
brother with the man who had murdered him—with the monster who had
stabbed him in the back in cold blood? She forced herself to
continue. Never could she allow the suspicion of her true feelings
to bloom in her betrothed’s mind. “He taught me the basics. He had
great skill…and much patience with me, as a child.”
    The Commander opened a heavy wooden door and
led the way across the grassy courtyard to a stone building. After
a moment, he probed, “Your brother, the King?”
    “ No. My oldest brother.”
Elwytha looked quickly away as grief welled up. Tears crowded her
eyes, but she willfully blinked them back. She would not cry again
before her enemy.
    The Commander said nothing, and well he
mightn’t, the horror. Rage at what he had done to her brother
burned hot all over again as he disappeared inside the armory to
retrieve their weapons. Sticks, she saw, as he reemerged. They were
meant as imitations for true sword play. Elwytha could not snatch
hers quickly enough. How she longed to slay him now! To make him
pay for what he had done.
    Blinded by the wretched tears, her first two
slashes swung wild. The Commander easily blocked her stick, and
this calmed her as nothing else could. He would gain no victory in
this match. Rage burned her tears dry.
    Elwytha lunged and parried and wielded her
stick with quick, deadly precision. She saw his great shoulders
tense when he realized he had a true opponent.
    He matched her skill, and Elwytha saw the
instant he took it to the next level. His make-believe sword cut
quickly to the side, but Elwytha was ready for the jab, and indeed
defeated it, twirled her weapon, nearly wrenching the stick from
his hand.
    All pretense of games disappeared from the
Commander’s demeanor. His stick moved blindingly fast, and pressed
forward. She refused to fall back. Like lightning, her stick
whipped, clashing with his.
    Other warriors gathered to watch.
    The Commander was the best swordsman she had
ever encountered. Quickness and precision were Elwytha’s strengths.
They appeared to be his, as well. But he had