Book 2 of: Whispers Of Desires.
In the kingdoms of Niameda, Althea, and Ivamis, trade ships are mysteriously vanishing without a trace. When Kazi, the General of Niameda, risks her life to save the King of Althea from an assassination attempt, he of...
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A year into her quest for a suitable suitor, Lady Adanna finds herself unexpectedly invited to a prestigious competition in the enchanting Spanish Griffin Kingdom of Aeronia. The prize? The heart of the Duke.
As Adanna navigates the complexities of courtly life and the challenges of the competition, she finds herself caught in a web of intrigue and danger. With threats looming over the contestants and the mysterious disappearance of the Duke's father, Adanna must learn patience and resilience as she uncovers the truth behind the sinister plot.
Amidst the chaos, she unexpectedly finds herself drawn to a man who might not be the Duke, forcing her to question her own desires and expectations in love
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As soon as the door shut behind Serena, Adanna's facade crumbled. The tiredness she had feigned vanished, replaced by a feverish energy. She waited a few moments, allowing Serena's footsteps to fade completely, before springing into action. This was her chance.
With a determined look in her eyes, Adanna slipped out of her chambers and made her way towards the gardens of the estate. The vibrant flowers and manicured hedges momentarily stole her breath away. But the beauty of the scene could not distract from the task at hand. Escape, Adanna reminded herself, scanning the perimeter of the garden. There had to be a way out.
Adanna surveyed the garden with a critical eye. Her mind raced, searching for any sign of a potential escape route. Then she stared at the garden wall. It stood at least ten feet tall, constructed of smooth, grey stone. Vines snaked their way up the side, offering a tempting, yet flimsy, ladder to freedom.
"I would look quite foolish," Adanna murmured to herself, eyeing the wall. Just then, a tall tree caught her eye. A magnificent oak tree, its branches reaching toward the sky, stood at the edge of the garden. A spark of inspiration ignited in Adanna's mind. "Climbing trees," she whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
When she was a child, she spent countless of hours climbing the trees of Niameda, her nimbleness surprising for a girl of her size. She glanced down at her silk gown, it was most practical for the Aeronia lifestyle, but she did not think climbing trees in such garb would be ideal. With swift, decisive movements, Adanna unlaced her corset and kicked off her shoes, her gown pooling around her ankles.
With newfound resolve, Adanna approached the oak, her gaze fixed on a sturdy branch within reach. She hoisted herself up, the rough bark offering a welcome grip. Memories of her childhood prowess flooded back - the thrill of the climb, the satisfaction of reaching a new height.
Halfway up the tree, a sudden rustling in the leaves above sent a jolt of fear through her. Had someone spotted her? Before she could react, a misplaced foot sent her tumbling. A strangled cry escaped her lips as she plummeted toward the unforgiving ground.
Just as her vision blurred with panic, a strong gust of wind hit her, and a pair of claws gripped her gown, causing it to rip. A startled gasp escaped her lips as she was hoisted through the air, the ground rushing away below. She opened her eyes, fear quickly morphing into awe as she found herself perched on the back of a magnificent griffin, its powerful wings beating steadily.
The griffin landed with a graceful thud, settling beside a tall figure dressed in the distinctive attire of a griffin rider. Adanna clung to the griffin's neck, her heart hammering against her ribs. She had never been so high, never felt so exposed. She could see the entirety of the De León estate sprawled out before her, the grand manor a mere dollhouse in the distance.
Slowly, she peeled her fingers away and slid down onto the soft grass, dizziness swirling in her head. As she regained her footing, a hand reached out to steady her. She looked up, blinking against the bright sunlight, to find a pair of warm brown eyes gazing down at her.
The man was indeed tall, around 6'4, his muscular frame a clear indication of his demanding occupation as a griffin rider. His skin was a warm tan, kissed by the sun, and his dark brown hair fell in loose waves around a face that was both strong and gentle. His eyes, a kind of brown that reminded Adanna of warm chocolate, met hers with a reassuring calmness. His arms were covered in ink, tattoos of griffins and ancient symbols weaving their way up to his neck.
For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the only sound the rhythmic chirping of birds. Adanna finally found her voice, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. "Well," she stammered, "that was... unexpected."
The man remained silent, his expression unreadable. Adanna could almost feel him assessing her, his gaze sweeping over her with those keen brown eyes. She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, unsure what to say or do next. This encounter was certainly not part of her escape plan.
"Uh, you can, uh, let go now," the man stammered, his face flushing a deep shade of red. His accent was thick and unfamiliar, a blend of spanish and english that sent shivers down Adanna's spine – a strange mix of something familiar and completely foreign.
Adanna blinked at him, somewhat bewildered by his awkwardness. "Oh, indeed," she said, finally detaching herself from his grip. She brushed a stray leaf off her gown, her gaze lingering on the man before her. His attire was more suited or a guard than a servant – and his nervous demeanor left her questioning his role.
"Are you... a servant?" She blurted out the question before she could stop herself. His eyes widened in surprise, and he took a step back.
"No, no, not a servant," he stammered, his thick accent making parts of his speech sound like a charming melody. She caught glimpses of familiar words, Spanish perhaps, sprinkled amongst the English, but the meaning remained frustratingly elusive.
Adanna tilted her head, trying to decipher his response. "Then a guard?" she hazarded a guess. "Stable hand? Gardener?"
The man just shook his head, his cheeks now a full shade darker. "No, no," he said, his voice barely above a murmur.
Suddenly, a dramatic gasp escaped her lips. "Heavens above," she exclaimed, clapping a hand to her forehead. "Are you... the Duke?"
The man's face paled several shades. "The Duke?" he sputtered, , his voice barely a whisper. "No, no, certainly not!" He looked as though he might faint right there on the spot.
Adanna's initial shock melted into amusement. This poor man, he looked positively terrified of the title. "Oh goodness, please don't tell me I've offended you! I just... well, this whole escape attempt is incredibly embarrassing. Please, don't disqualify me from the competition. I just..." She trailed off, flustered by her own outburst.
The man raised a hand, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Disqualify? No, no, there shall be no disqualification." His English seemed to smooth out a bit under the pressure, though the accent remained. "I... I am not the Duke. Merely... a friend of the Duke." He stammered again, then looked away, his face flushed.
