Princess Annie by Linda Lael Miller

Author:Linda Lael Miller [Miller, Linda Lael]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: SOC035000
ISBN: 9781451611151
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 1994-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

Orange and crimson flames leaped in the darkness, consuming filth and splendor, dreams and nightmares, loyalties and defiances. Chaos was the order of the night, and as Rafael gazed out over the blazing city from one of the high windows in the Parliament building, his emotions reflected what he saw.

He despaired because the world he knew and—for all its myriad flaws—devoutly loved, was in the throes of violent death. At the same time, he rejoiced in the certainty that Annie was reasonably safe behind the ancient walls of St. James Keep. Grief for the people of Bavia, both rebels and patriots, tore at his spirit. Yet Rafael was exultant because Annie Trevarren had received him into her bed, and her body, and he had found in the abjectness of that intimacy a solace unlike anything he’d ever known before. Annie had depleted him, exhausted every secret reserve of passion, demanded everything he was and everything he had. And by taking him to the edge of utter destruction, she had resurrected him.

For a moment, Rafael closed his eyes and allowed himself to savor echoes of the excruciating joys and glories he had found in Annie’s arms, but the present loomed fierce and fiery before him, and would not be denied for long.

Nor would Barrett, who stood at Rafael’s side and laid a hand on his arm. “The army awaits your command to either defend Morovia or to flee,” his friend said solemnly. “Have you made a decision?”

Rafael bid a silent farewell to the homeland he had known—one that had, perhaps, never truly existed outside his own thoughts—that pastoral principality overlooking the sea, that green and rocky place where tinkers wandered in brightly painted wagons and sheep grazed upon the hillsides. Letting go was as painful as a lance wound.

“Yes,” he answered at last, turning to look into Barrett’s wan and worried face. “I want you to dispatch troops into the countryside to defend the villagers and crofters against marauding rebels. I will return to St. James Keep to see Phaedra married, and then you, Barrett, will escort my sister and her new husband safely over the French border.”

A shadow appeared over Barrett’s eyes, a shade of frustration or anger or pain—Rafael could not discern which. “And then?”

“And then you will keep going. You will dismiss your men and start over somewhere else—America, perhaps, or Australia. There’s a fund on deposit for you at the Carver Bank in London, enough to ensure that you won’t want for anything while you’re reestablishing yourself.”

Barrett was silent for a few moments, looking not at Rafael but at the burning city beyond the window glass. Finally, still without meeting Rafael’s eyes, he asked, “And what about you?”

Rafael gave a sigh that was almost explosive in its force. “We’ve discussed this before. I’ll be staying in Bavia.”

“Until the keep is overrun and you are led into the main courtyard with your hands bound, and hanged?” Barrett asked, and although he spoke quietly his words carried a sting.

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