Pure Destiny (PureDark Ones #12) - Aja James Page 0,13

Kira felt even a speck of their excitement.

“I hear he is a most accomplished poet,” one woman said to another as they filled large flasks of water at the public fountain.

Kira slowed her horse and dismounted, making a show of checking the mare’s front shoe, when really, she was shamelessly eavesdropping on the women’s conversation.

“Extremely cultured,” the other woman agreed. “A true erudite in a land of heathens.”

“He is said to be quite beautiful as well,” the first woman tittered behind her hand. “Tall and slim, with raven black hair.”

Her friend sighed. “’Tis a match blessed by the gods, don’t you think? Only a man so perfect can deserve our princess.”

Kira decided to lead her horse away at that, no longer listening.

From what she heard just now, Prince Cambyses didn’t sound perfect at all. He sounded like a perfect twat.

Poet? Erudite? Beautiful? Slim?

None of these adjectives resonated with Kira. The sort of men she’d always been attracted to were men. Even as a girl, she was drawn to strength and power. Not necessarily of body, though that didn’t hurt. But more importantly of the soul, and all of its parts.

When she was halfway between the city’s main gates and the foot of the hill upon which the Palace was situated, a procession of attendants walked stately from the opposite direction, led in the front by the royal viceroy.

She’d better hurry back, then, or she’d not be ready to greet the Prince when he arrived. Her parents would not be pleased to see her in these clothes, without makeup and adornments. Looking like a common boy…

And that was when a terrible, wonderful idea dawned in Kira’s mind.

“Halt!”

The viceroy stopped the procession when Kira presented the back of her hand to him, the ring on her middle finger glinting in the noonday sun.

The man squinted for a better look, then immediately dismounted his horse.

“Your Highness,” he greeted, bowing deep.

“You are dismissed, Viceroy,” Kira intoned, using her “Princess voice.”

The man visibly blanched and looked up in shock before bowing his head again, addressing the ground, “I do not understand, Your Highness. Have I done aught to offend? The Crown Prince Cambyses—”

“I will lead the procession to welcome him,” Kira said. “You may return to the Palace.”

The man quickly flicked a look at Kira’s attire and looked back down, but not before she saw his disapproval.

“If I may, your Highness—”

“You may not,” Kira cut him off once again. “Do not make me repeat myself. Await me at the Palace and make sure my handmaidens are ready with a change of clothes and all the necessary frills for the engagement tonight. Now make haste. Leave the rest with me.”

Unable to disobey a direct command, the royal official had no choice but to remount his horse, turn it around and head back to the Palace.

The procession of men and women for the Crown Prince of Persia’s official welcome into Zau looked as one toward Kira for further instruction.

She got back onto her mare, and with a flick of her head, indicated that the two lines follow her as she rode ahead of them toward the city gates.

It had been a spur of the moment idea. To impersonate a man, someone other than who she was, to meet the Prince for the first time in disguise.

He might still be guarded around strangers, especially a person in official capacity, but Kira would be able to interact with him more “naturally.” Without preconceptions and expectations. In the time it would take them to slowly make their way back to the Palace, perhaps she would learn a thing or two about her intended that were true markers of the man he was.

No matter what she learned, she knew she couldn’t do anything about it. She was doomed to marry him either way. Getting a glimpse of who he was before they made it official seemed almost like torture.

What if he was a horrible person? Loud, obnoxious, arrogant and domineering? What if the handsome portraits of him masked an ugly soul or even an ugly form?

Kira wasn’t particularly picky when it came to male looks, but she’d have to bear his children, wouldn’t she? They’d have to copulate in their marriage bed. For that unpleasantness alone, she prayed he would at least not be physically repellant.

As these and other useless thoughts circled like vultures in her head, she could barely keep her heart from pounding out of her chest when the heavy city gates creaked open.

Bit by bit, the opening gates

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