Lord of Rage. Jill Monroe

he wanted his brothers to get rid of her before he returned.

      Not going to happen.

      Kings and princes might rule through sheer force of will and strength, but as her mother always told her, a queen knew how to get what she desired with nothing but a smile and her brain. And she’d taught those skills to her daughter.

      Breena flashed that smile at the boys right now. “Thank you for your hospitality. I’m so sorry I broke your chair, and it was such a fine work of craftsmanship, too.”

      Bernt’s cheeks began to flush. Flattery always worked on men.

      Torben laughed. “You thought that chair was goo—”

      The younger brother’s words were cut off by a smack to his shoulder.

      “I’ve been walking for so many days, and seen so many interesting things, but this cabin is …”

      The brotherly irritation lining Bernt’s forehead faded. “We haven’t been outside our lands since—” he stopped, his brown eyes clouding “—well, for a long time. What’s out there?”

      Now this was very curious. She didn’t know how long she’d roamed, but at least a couple of days, and she’d never once spotted another person. Osborn had apparently hidden himself and his brothers away from civilization for quite some time. Why?

      Bernt looked more boy now than youth. She had him. A boy’s sense of adventure was universal.

      “It’s a magical world out there.”

      Torben’s eyes focused. “You’ve seen magic?”

      She lowered her voice and leaned forward as if she was about to impart a great secret. “I can do magic,” she told him.

      “Show me,” he demanded.

      Now she had him, too. She only had to draw out his curiosity until her missing magic reappeared.

      She stretched her arms above her head. “Oh, I’d love to,” she told them. Was she going overboard with the reluctance lacing her voice? “But it seems I have to be on my way.” She aimed her steps in the direction of the door.

      “Oh, but—”

      “Maybe you can stay a little longer.”

      She flashed them a smile. “You did say something about clothes.”

      “And we have something that will take away the pain of your cuts and sunburn.” The boys left her side in a sprint, Bernt rummaging through an old wooden chest by the window, while Torben vanished into the bedchamber. They both returned with well-worn but clean pants and shirts. About three sizes too big. But if for some reason she was back out wandering the woods again, the rugged material of her new outfit would protect her from the sun and the tree limbs.

      “Tell us about what you’ve seen,” Torben urged.

      What would intrigue him besides her magic? Food always worked for her. “My favorite day is market day. All the tradespeople and farmers bring their wares and set up booths. Of course everyone gives you a little sample of their food so you’ll buy. One walk down the aisle and you’re completely full.” Or so she’d been told by one of the maids who’d helped her dress. Her parents would never have allowed her to go to market day, so she had something in common with these two brothers who longed to experience something new and different.

      “What kind of food?” Torben asked, licking his lips. “All we get here is porridge and meat. Burned meat.”

      “To a crisp,” Bernt added. “Osborn is not a very good cook.”

      “And if we complain, he’d make us do it. Can you cook?”

      She didn’t exactly cook, but she knew how to direct a kitchen staff. “My favorite is stew.” That wasn’t a lie. She didn’t specifically say she’d cooked it. “Thick with lots of vegetables and fresh baked bread.”

      Both boys closed their eyes and moaned.

      “But there’s more than just the booths. There’s singing, traveling acrobats and minstrels and dancing bears.”

      Bernt’s face grew angry. “Bears shouldn’t dance.”

      She’d forgotten she was in Ursan lands. “It was only one time. I’d love to tell you more, but I better change clothes and start walking before it gets dark.”

      Torben slumped in disappointment. “I’d like to try that bread.”

      Breena began to finger the frayed edge of the pants they’d given her. “I’d hate to put on these fresh clothes when I’m so dirty. Is there somewhere I can take a bath?”

      She’d only suggested a bath to stall time, but now that she’d said the request out loud, Breena actually longed to be clean. To wash the grass from her hair, the dried blood from her knees.

      “We usually just hop in the lake.”

      “There’s no bathing tub?”

      The boys just looked at her blankly.

      “I’m guessing you wouldn’t have shampoo?”

      Torben only nodded.

      “Okay then, point me in the right direction.”

      Bernt’s brow knotted. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

      “Technically I’ll be out of the house, so he can’t get mad,” she assured him.

      “Oh, he can get mad.”

      She just bet he could.

      Osborn stalked through the woods, crashed though the tall grass and avoided the areas where the bears slept. Sweat slid down his back as he pushed himself to keep going. Away from his home and away from her.

      He swiped at a branch closing in on his eye. Clearly he was going crazy. The isolation of his lonely life was making him want things he had no business wanting. What a fool he’d been. He’d clung to the woman who visited him as he slept. He hadn’t realized how much until what he’d been fighting so hard to hold on to had been ripped away from him. At first he’d try to force his thoughts to something else during the day. Keeping the area around their cabin clear. Ensuring there was enough food and clean water. Taking care of his brothers. But finally he succumbed, and he’d work to remember those dream moments with her throughout his day. Although, truthfully, it wasn’t very hard. Those moments drew him to his bed at night so he could dream.