9
Jza tried to make herself comfortable on the floor but there was no respite to be had. The stillness of the night was making it difficult for her sleep. As strange as the thought was the castle had always been thrumming with life. That energy, that feeling of life everywhere, was gone. The drunk courtiers, the chattering servants, the youthful bark of laughter from the soldiers had been completely wiped away. She could feel nothing and it was that nothingness that made sleep impossible for her.
Her restlessness got the better of her and she sat up hugging her knees, with her back against the wall. The room was unlit with only moonlight deftly highlighting the corners and plains of the room. Her eyes trailed onto the only other living being in the room, if one did not count the spiders. Her captor was snoring away on the right side of the bed. He was flat on his back with one arm resting on his eyes and the other on the pillow next to him. Her locket was resting right in the centre of the man's bare chest, mocking her.
Jza's jaw clenched as she made up her mind. That locket was hers to protect. Any more time with it and the man might figure out exactly what it was and war would be lost completely. Her father would sacrifice everything except for his daughters. She would not let him suffer the indignity of defeat. She got up slowly, silently, hoping her soft cotton clothes would not make a sound.
Her bare feet sunk into the plush carpet as she quietly walked to the bed. Jza tracked the steady rise and fall of the muscled chest and wondered if her plan would succeed. She leaned down and touched the locket reverently but before she could do more a hand landed on hers.
"Am I dreaming?" The man's soft, sleep laced voice was incredibly amused. He grasped her wrists firmly and pulled her towards him with a jerk. She landed right on top of the man, "I told you, you would join me."
"Let go, you foul beast," Jza pulled her hands away with a tug and glared down at the man.
"Oh, ho, such hypocrisy when it is not I who is straddling anyone."
Her hand covered his mouth to stop his infuriating chatter but she could feel him smiling underneath it which made her pull back immediately.
"Stop being so infuriating. Just give me back what's mine. That's all I want."
"I had no idea I was in such demand. I can claim a hundred women as my property but never could claim they own me in reverse," Tarquin placed his hands behind his head and made himself comfortable. He was a slim man but in the moonlight the corded muscles of his shoulders stood out prominently.
"I don't want you. Just give me back my locket," Jza's attention was once again taken by the locket but that was a mistake and in the blink of an eye she was flipped and became the captive once again. Tarquin had bared his teeth with a dangerous smile as he loomed over her, the locket hung between. The cool metal gently kissed her bare neck in small intervals as they both breathed.
"Don't mistake me for your kind, merciful, ruler Lord Samuel. I am not a weak and vain fool. I will never give this locket back until you tell me who you are."
"I am a nobody," Jza averted her eyes. The strength of his probing eyes made her feel as if she would blurt out all her deepest darkest secrets.
"Are you sure? Are you not a spy sent to keep an eye on me?" The Lord asked forcefully making Jza squirm. His grip on her wrist would leave another bruise.
"If you think me a spy then why have you kept me so close. Have you lost your senses?" She retorted trying to shake free, "And I hardly am some skilled warrior infiltrating the enemy camp."
"Women have their own talents," The man replied simply with his amber eyes lingering all over her. They trailed from her bitten lips to her collarbone all illuminated enticingly under the moonlight.
"Can I even persuade anyone with this face?" She scoffed, unknowingly giving her bosom an attractive heave, "I am not known for my womanly talents, I assure you."
"Maybe I can be persuaded," Tarquin's voice dipped low as he exhaled on her face, blowing the errant baby hairs off her face. Jza felt the man leaning in closer while the locket scraped and finally settled down on her chest. Instinctively she kicked him on the groin and pushed him off.
"I have no interest in leading you anywhere with my charms," Jza braced herself for retaliation as she leapt out of bed. Her open brown hair scattered everywhere in the frenzy.
The man was face down and showed no reaction until he started moving. He rolled over and revealed he was shaking with laughter.
"If this is where the path you leads me to this, I fear I will have nothing left down there," Tarquin snickered looking harmless as if he hadn't just loomed all over her with vile intentions.
"Then stop following me around. I have nothing of value except my father's last memory. I cannot trust you with it if you can not even behave," The girl's face contorted with frustration.
"I am fully chastised, Miss Ashbrook. I have never had a girl dive in my bed without certain expectations," The Lord apologized in a mock polite tone.
"But you will not give me my locket back until I tell you something about myself. Fine. I took care of the library, if that's what you want to know," She mixed the truth in her words. An outright lie would be caught much quicker.
"Is that who you are? A library keeper?"
"No, I am also a farmer's niece, a devoted daughter, a passable archer and a good friend," She may be a Royal Princess but all of these things defined her as well. If this unraveling of her person was required to get the locket back then so be it.
"A good friend to the famous beauties?" Tarquin cocked his head, while still lying prone on his bed with amusement still lingering on his face, "They must be your age."
"Oh, no! They despised me," Jza shook her head with bitter smile. She was always the interloper to them; that half sister who appeared out of nowhere in their lives.
"A resounding recommendation, then."
"No need to flatter me. I shall forever despise you," Jza stated with a raised brow.
"Not exactly the words a man wants to hear when a woman wants something from him." The Lord languidly got up and walked towards still as unclothed as before. The girl wanted to take a step back but stood her ground. She knew exactly where to aim if he tried to intimidate her again.
"Your sense of duty and honour would compel you to ignore any transgressions?" The brunette clasped her hands and blinked faux-innocently.
"Perhaps? But I want something very important from you."
___________________________
Walking into the library was like a surreal dream. It had been Jza's personal haven during times of crisis, and she was back in her worst situation yet. Ironically she was no great reader. It was just that many of her peers, sisters, courtiers shared the same idea about books and rarely visited the place. It was the solitude she had yearned for and the sense of responsibility that helped her keep it under control.
The battle had taken its toll on the entire cavernous hall. It had been cleaned of the former debris although half the windows were missing. Entire shelves had disappeared. Jza had managed to hide some of the more precious volumes in a vault specifically built for the rare book in hopes they would survive a fire. She was optimistic they remain intact. The surprising thing was the paintings of her ancestors were still hanging intact from the walls behind the librarian's desk. Identical brown eyes peered down at her. They reminded her that she was the key to the survival of their family.
"I have a purpose here for you beyond whatever you intend to do. I want you to collect all the Barbarian books in existence. Those that were written by them and those that were written about them," Tarquin ignored the guards stationed at the doors and addressed Jza only, whom he held at his arm. They strolled down the gallery both wearing navy blue outfits. Jza's maid seemed to enjoy making them match.
"I know some of the books but not the entire depth of accumulated knowledge. It will take time. None of the books remain in their original place."
"Of course, but I must know details, dates, everything," He counted off looking distracted. She noticed his eyes kept trailing back to the Royal portraits. Maybe he had ordered them off and some servant had forgotten.
"I am still not a researcher. I am merely the librarian. Surely someone else with a mind made for research would better suited for the job," Jza stilled them in front of the librarian's desk.
"While we may seem fluent in your language not everyone can read it. Those who can I do not want here. You my trapped mouse will perform much better, no? After all there is much to lose," The Lord pointed at the locket still hanging from his clothed torso. The entire morning Jza had spied on him and the man had not taken it off even once.
"Of course," The Princess replied and walked behind the desk. She rummaged through her drawer and found a book that had just been returned. It had been the one she had been lazily reading through when the announcement of war had happened. How could she have known this book about their Barbarian predecessors would be the one life line she could cling to.
Jza glanced up and noticed the Lord was still fixated on the images of her father and their ancestors before looking down at the Barbarian man's etchings on the book's front page.
It was then the realization hit her. Lord Tarquin was part Barbarian. He looked nothing like the folk of his country. His eyes, his face, his hair; it was so obvious she was amazed she had not discerned this earlier. Almost everyone else, from the common servants to his harem women, was pale haired with large, light eyes. He was pale as well but the rest of the colouring was quite the opposite. Now, his comments made sense. If he descended from the Barbarians he would feel it was duty to avenge them.
Blood for blood that was the Barbarian motto.
She sat down on her creaky old chair in shock.
