The Harvest King - Paula Quinn Page 0,37

She sighed and he closed his eyes for a moment as if the mere sight of her were too much for him to bear.

“After I speak with my sister and see to some things, I will bring you wherever you wish to go.” Without looking at her again, he turned to leave.

“No.” she touched his fingers to stop his departure and when he looked at her again, she smiled beneath the lily. “There’s no rush.”

Chapter 13

“I must warn you,” Caleb said as he walked his mount to a large stone cottage surrounded by three young oak trees. “My sister is a tyrant.”

Willow walked beside him, and he threw her a playful smile that near knocked her to her knees.

“And her betrothed is her servant,” he added with a scowl.

“Why do you live with her then?” Willow asked.

“The house is mine. It was left to me by my father. Shauna is staying here until…” He almost winced, choking on his words. “…something bigger is available.”

He walked her to the front door where deep green shrubs lined the cobblestone walls. Amazingly, there was even some ivy winding its way around the shutters of two small windows in the front of the cottage. A woven trellis graced the entrance and Willow could almost imagine an array of white lilies laced through it. “It’s lovely,” she gasped on a breath.

Opening the door, Caleb stepped inside and swept his arm out in front of him to invite her in. When she passed him, he bent his head to her hair and took a whiff.

Stepping inside, Willow thought she had entered a castle rather than the quaint cottage she had seen from outside. Hand painted vases from Beldar to the farthest countries on the map were set with great care on rich mahogany tables and on cherry stands with legs as thick as the trees themselves. Two oversized settees upholstered in deep blue velvet and trimmed in polished wood adorned a large back window draped in sheer cream crepe. Another huge chair upholstered in a tapestry swirl brocade sat at the opposite end of the large sitting room next to a wooden bookshelf lined with priceless figurines.

Willow surveyed everything before she turned to Caleb. “Why did you sell my things when your own home is…”

“They are Shauna’s.” he broke off her question. “Save for the furniture that Shauna purchased for both of us, which if I can’t trade when she leaves, I will burn.”

“Is that you, Caleb?” A woman’s voice rang through the halls before she appeared. “Did you bring his head?”

Closing his eyes with a deep, dragged out sigh, Caleb touched the hand that Willow brought to her chest in horror. “My sister. Excuse me,” he grumbled and strode toward the sound of his Shauna’s voice.

Willow watched him disappear through a small doorway and tried to calm her furiously beating heart. Her father’s head! There was no doubt in her mind who the woman was referring to. The Warriors had gone to Silvergard to kill the king, she knew that, but hearing talk of his head... She blinked back a surge of terror that threatened to propel her out of the cottage and find her own way to Beldar. But Caleb had promised her that he would spare Baltrasard’s life if he ever caught him. Willow prayed that her father would not come searching for her.

Still trying to decide if her abductor would honor his promise, Willow squared her shoulders and lifted her chin when Caleb returned a moment later with a woman who was as breathtaking as pictures Willow had seen of a sunrise over the Dianallian sea. She looked more like am angel of light with her pale flaxen hair plaited down her back, almost past her buttocks.

Willow smiled tightly as the two approached her. So this was the tyrant.

Her eyes were deep verdant green and slanted slightly upward at the corners giving her a harder, more deliberate expression than that of her brother. She was quite beautiful in her costly gown, and as she drew closer, Willow studied the fine gold stitching in the blue silk. This was a gown Willow would be wearing if she was home, not something she would ever expect to find on a peasant woman. Where did peasants get these kinds of luxuries? Whom had they stolen it all from?

With a sudden wave of pride mixed with humiliation, Willow looked down at her own mud-stained clothes and ached to comb her hair back. But it was too

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