PROLOGUE
MATTEO
“Taking a peek at your purple-haired princess?” Xavier teased, elbowing Matteo in the rib cage.
Wincing, Matteo felt blood rush to his face. He had been caught watching his wife’s windows and balcony, hoping for a first glimpse of her. “You would be too if you had been married by proxy to a complete stranger.”
“Not a stranger, a princess,” his best friend said, a smile still on his taunting lips. “And not just any princess—an Urkan princess reported to have magical powers.”
Matteo shook his head. He didn’t believe in goddesses, prophecies, or any sort of magic. They were made-up stories to make naughty children behave.
Xavier put a large hand on Matteo’s coarse curls and ruffled them. “If you’re so sure, why don’t you go into her courtyard and see for yourself?”
Matteo elbowed his friend in the ribs to get him off. “Send one of your bloody birds to spy on her.”
A crow as black as his own hair flew onto Xavier’s shoulder and he lightly petted its feathers. His friend had an unnatural affinity to winged creatures and used them as couriers in their spy network. No matter where they were sent, the birds always came back to Xavier.
“There, there. He didn’t mean it,precious. Matteo is simply too chicken to do it himself.”
The last time Matteo had taken one of Xavier’s dares, he’d ended up with a broken arm. Still, he wanted to see Princess Eleanora so badly that his hands were shaking and he felt light-headed. Was she beautiful? Sweet? Kind? Pleasant company?
“Would you like me to fetch some of your poems to read to her?” Xavier teased. “I’m sure she’ll be unable to resist your handwritten verses.”
Matteo hushed Xavier before removing the sword at his waist. “Fine. I’ll do it. No mention of poetry.”
Xavier laughed loudly, his voice echoing like a cricket in the night. “Good idea. After she hears your terrible poetry, she might prefer me.”
They were both twenty-four years old. Xavier was slightly shorter than he and had a lighter shade of brown skin. He was handsome, with sea-green eyes, a nose with a bump in the middle, and thick lips. Matteo was taller, darker-skinned, and stronger, and his features were more classical. But neither had any difficulty finding young ladies to flirt with.
“Prefer you?” Matteo gave his friend one last shove. “She would be the first woman to do so.”
“Nonsense,” Xavier said, striking a pose, the crow still perched on his shoulder.
Ignoring him, Matteo climbed over the wall to the princess’s private courtyard. Which was a stupid idea, he thought, as his feet hit the grass. The lanterns in the pointed, arched windows bathed the square in a soft light. But there was no one in sight. Neither the princess nor her companion, a cousin or something. He was about to turn around and scramble back over the wall when he was tackled from behind.
Matteo fell on his face and ate a mouthful of grass. Winded and embarrassed, he rolled over to his back. Once the guard saw his face, there would be an apology. Except the attacker wasn’t a guard. It was a woman, and she sat down hard on his chest, knocking the wind out of him for a second time. With one arm, she pinned his two hands to the ground above his head and with the other she held a silver dagger to his throat. He knew he ought to be afraid, as the dagger was sharp against his neck, but he wasn’t.
He was fascinated.
Even in the dim light of the courtyard, he could see that her hair truly was purple. Her face was all sharp lines, from her cheekbones to her chin, and her pale skin was covered in tiny brown freckles. Her eyes shone like blue gems and were circled in black. It should have made her look fierce, but they accentuated her beauty.
“Who are you, and why are you spying on us?” she demanded in the high tongue; the language spoken by aristocrats on the continent. Her eyes swept his body, making him blush.
Matteo was about to answer that he was her husband, but that made him feel like a complete and utter fool.
“I meant no harm,” he whispered. It was hard to talk with a sharp object pressing against his Adam’s apple. “I only wanted a glimpse of your beauty.”
The fierce princess rolled her jewellike eyes at him. “The truth, before I gut you like a pig.”
His forehead started to sweat and a feeling of fear crept up his spine. He had to get her off him so he could explain properly. With all of his upper body strength, he pushed against her one arm, but it was like trying to move a stone. Her body didn’t even budge an inch. Disbelieving, he shook his head. She was a tall girl, and from his prone position, her arms appeared to be perfectly toned, without being bulky. But she wasn’t large, and he should have been able to move her off him. Perhaps it was the fall.
Matteo was a trained fighter, so he used his knees to strike her back, twisted his torso, and was able to free one of his hands. He knocked the knife out of her hand and then rolled on top of her, using his heavier weight to keep her down. Still, he had to use both hands to pin down her wrists.
“Please, this is all a misunderstanding,” he began.
He didn’t finish, because in seconds, she’d flipped him over and again straddled him. Even without a knife, this princess was deadly.
“Why are you here?” she hissed in his ear. Her silken hair brushed his cheek and she smelled like white flowers and rain.