Kiss of the Devil

Chapter 3

Over the next week, Alaric spent his time equally with the women and sometimes with all four at once. One particular time, they were all in the courtyard. Genevieve was reading, bundled up tightly in furs. The only upside of living there was that she could dress as warm and comfortable as a princess.

The other ladies were doing the same, though they kept talking to the prince, trying to get his attention one way or another. Archard played at Genevieve's feet while her lips moved slowly. If it hadn't been for Alaric's enhanced hearing, he would've never known she was reading aloud to the young boy. She had good taste and spoke fluently in Kievan Rus which, he favored. He doubted these other shallow women had even bothered to learn the word 'hello.'

Just as he was about to look away from Genevieve's heart-shaped face, her gaze drifted up to meet his. Alaric's heart started to pound as a shy blush erupted on her cheeks. He watched her dip her head down to whisper into Archard's ear. The young boy brightened and whispered back. Alaric turned his attention to the women and answered a few of their questions, bored.

"Prince Alaric," a small voice said.

The young prince moved his head to see Archard standing there with two wooden swords. He nodded, waiting to see what Archard would say. The young boy turned nervously to Genevieve, who smiled encouragingly.

"Prince Alaric, will you play with me?" Archard asked shyly.

Prince Alaric hesitated. He was supposed to be entertaining the women, but he was growing more and more repelled by them by the second. They were willing to throw themselves at him simply because of his title. They didn't know the first thing about him and certainly wouldn't want to after they learned his secret.

Finally, he took a sword in his hand and stood. "En guard," he cried. Archard shrieked with excitement and swung his weapon. For hours the two played different games while Alaric taught him the ways of the sword.

Genevieve watched with a smile. She felt herself growing more and more fond of the prince, though she would've never admitted it. She refused to feel anything for the man that likely orchestrated her parent's murder. She'd play along, sure, but inevitably he would choose one of the other women. He had to. She was nothing but a village girl.

Archard eventually tired and went back to his sister. He smiled at Alaric and buried his cold face in the skirts of his sister. Genevieve, enveloped by Shakespeare's the 'Taming of the Shrew,' merely ran her fingers through the young boy's curls as she read.

Alaric walked inside, satisfied that he'd made his choice. His father was talking with Victoria.

"Ah, Alaric," his father greeted. "Have you made your choice?"

"Yes, Father," he said. "Victoria, I would like to purchase Genevieve and her brother."

"Both?" she asked, shocked. She'd told them from the start that Genevieve and her brother weren't a package deal. She'd been waiting on the day to separate them so she could drain the infuriatingly rambunctious boy of all he had.

"Both. And I want two of the other girls to be her ladies in waiting," Alaric stated.

"Right away, sir," Victoria said, curtsying and walking away to make arrangements.

Alaric walked back outside to see Genevieve crying. She was on her hands and knees, picking up bits of paper. He rushed to her side, ignoring the giggles from the other women.

"You hags!" Archard screamed, crying angrily.

Alaric gathered a few pieces of paper before asking what had happened. Genevieve didn't answer. She just sobbed and picked up the pieces of her ruined book. Archard stood there, shaking with rage. His chubby hands balled into fists.