A Dove's Tale

Chapter 28

Rain was in the air. Gray clouds hung heavy in the distance, warning of a storm to come. The perfume of roses and the stench of blood mixed to confuse my senses and addle my thoughts further. I needed to stop thinking. This was a job, and Prince Chevalier was my employer, and that was all. It didn't matter that he shattered my heart into a thousand pieces in an ill-conceived attempt to protect me from the dangers that surrounded him. It didn't matter that he obviously hated what he'd done within seconds of doing it, probably even while he was doing it. I couldn't let myself imagine him tossing his bloody clothes in the laundry hamper the night before and then lying awake, worrying about me, formulating a plan he despised, hoping to make me run away and never come back.

That's what I wanted to believe happened. Not that it made anything better.

I wanted to hate him, but I couldn't.

My back. My back, of all places. That was where he touched me. It was more than enough to terrify me, but it was a relatively safe location. Jack's lecherous hands went for my chest and up my skirt every time, starting that first horrible day shortly after I turned thirteen when he turned up at my house while Mother was out working. I could still feel his hand clamped over my mouth to keep me from screaming for help as he 'checked to see how I was developing.' He wasn't interested in my back, and neither were the men who would have become my customers if I'd given in to him.

Prince Chevalier had wanted to scare me, but he hadn't wanted to hurt me. His touch had been unwelcome, but gentle. He'd left no marks on me.

I couldn't hate him.

"What are you doing here?"

Prince Leon's surprised voice came from overhead, interrupting my thoughts as I scrubbed the bloody paving stones in the gardens on my hands and knees. I looked up at him, frowning down at me.

"You shouldn't be doing that."

"Prince Chevalier asked me to clean this up, Prince Leon," I replied, returning to my scrubbing.

"Asked?"

"Ordered, your highness," I corrected myself.

Although I could easily have gotten out of it by telling Prince Chevalier that I wouldn't do it. He wouldn't have argued with me. I barely let him get a word in edgewise once I snapped.

Prince Leon squatted down beside me and put his hand on my arm. "Stop. You don't have to do this. I'll get someone else to finish up here."

I sat back on my heels, looking up at him. "I appreciate your concern, your highness, but I'm almost done, anyway."

And this wasn't even the last of the bloody mess I had to clean up. I still had to check on Prince Chevalier's laundry and see if I could save any of it.

"You can knock off the 'your highness' stuff with me, Ivetta," he said, furrowing his brow as he gazed down at my wrists.

Darn those bruises. And of course I'd rolled my sleeves up again. I pulled them back down as I thought of a way to redirect Prince Leon's attention.

Blood or bruises? Which was worse?

Bruises, in this case. Jack had already spent too much time in my thoughts today.

"Is this a common occurrence? This..." I looked back down at the paving stones. "This assassination attempt?"

Prince Leon hesitated. "Chevalier has a lot of enemies."

That sounded like a yes. I frowned, considering. "How common?"

Prince Leon's amber eyes darkened, and he hesitated again. "I should talk to him about getting you reassigned."