Shadows: Book One of the Eligia Shala Read Online Free Page B

arms clasped firmly around them. Strands of long dark hair were blowing around her face, having long since escaped from the braid she had tied on the ship. As the pale cold light caught her, Bernardo felt a surge of his old protectiveness for her flood back. She had told them as they rode that she had changed. He could see it in her eyes, and in the tension built into her posture. More than anything he wanted to roll time back until some of the warmth and joy that had been the younger Jenevra came back; even the mischief, the nonsensical pranks that had landed her in trouble on more than one occasion. But it was gone, or buried deep. Leached out of her like the moonlight stole the color from her skin.
    Bernardo sighed, watching her until sleep claimed him. As he lay dreaming of the tiny girl who, so many years ago now, had taken the place of his dead infant daughter in his heart, he didn’t see Jenevra pull his cloak up over his shoulders. He didn’t feel the light touch of her hand against his face. He didn’t know, and she would never tell him.
     

 CHAPTER THREE

    In the misty light of early morning, Jenevra left the sleeping camp, slipping past Tessier’s sentries with contemptuous ease. She had tied her pack onto the horse she had been riding, and left it tethered with the others. At least, she reasoned, that way they would know she had left of her own will. With her swords slung crossed over her shoulders, Jenevra broke into a steady run towards the east, reveling in the freedom; enjoying it one more time before the palace gates closed her in. The snow was far lighter here on the plain, and Jenevra made good time, happily climbing over a small outcrop of moraine that she knew would take the horsemen at least six hours out of their way. Moving easily as her muscles warmed up, she made swift progress the next day around the city to the far southwestern side, nearest to the palace. Undetected as she climbed over both city and palace walls, the princess shook her head in disgust at the ease with which she entered the palace. Climbing and hopping her way along the balustrades and ledges of the Imperial palace, Jenevra found the window she was looking for, slipped a slim knife under the latch, and dropped softly inside the room.
    Although the heavy drapes were closed, the banked fire gave enough light to show Jenevra that her cousin, His Imperial Highness, Phillip Orsatti Marissun was deep in an innocent and untroubled sleep; laying flat on his back in his large canopied bed, a faint smile on his face. Taking a seat on the far end of the bed, Jenevra stretched her legs out, and laid her swords across her knees, sitting patiently until the chilly draught from the open window brought Phillip to unwelcome consciousness. “I thought you were going to sleep all day, Flip,” she announced, as his eyes flickered open, and he registered her presence with shock.
    “Jenn?” Phillip responded sleepily to the childhood name she had used, before snapping wide awake in shock. “Jenn?” Speechless, Phillip jumped out of bed and hugged her tightly. Snatching up a dressing gown, he tied it hurriedly, and drew her across to a sofa near the fire. Raking his long dark hair away from his face, he beamed at her. “So the convent’s let you out for the wedding then?”
    “Convent? Wedding?” Jenevra pulled away slightly, chewing on one side of her lip. Of all of them, she trusted Phillip. She knew that he too was playing a role he had little taste for; thrust into the duties of the Empire through the actions of others rather than his own choice. They had always understood each other; and his forthcoming accession to the throne was one of the reasons she had been sent back. But, it had been five years. Had everything changed between them? “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I only just arrived here.” She watched him, warily. “I guess I should see the Empress, but I wanted to see you first.”
    She saw Phillip’s