There was something odd about the wall across from the window that overlooked the sea. The interior of the tower room had been painted white, but this one section looked like it had been scorched. She ran a hand across the blackened paint. Had someone held a torch against the wall?
Father had explained that her mother had found the duties of being a duchess rather daunting. So even though they loved each other very much and had shared a bedchamber in the keep, she’d enjoyed having a private place she could escape to.
Luciana washed, using the bowl of water and towel that a guard had left for her. Jensen had sneaked into her dressing room to fetch a nightgown for her. As she slipped it on, she winced at how thin it was. There were no shutters on the windows, and the night air was rather cool. Fortunately, the bed had several blankets.
She crawled under the blankets and leaned back against the headboard. She was tired from being awake most of the night. But how could she possibly sleep when the king wanted her dead?
* * *
Unable to sleep, Leo paced about his tent. The more he learned about Tatiana, the more confused he became. Why had she sneaked off to a tower room for the night?
He opened his desk drawer and glared at the letter she’d written to Captain Bougaire. He hadn’t opened it. The thought of reading endearments meant for another man was too wretched to bear. He’d rather take another lightning strike than see proof that she loved another.
He slammed the drawer shut. That chapter in her life was officially closed. She belonged to him now.
He resumed his pacing. In all fairness, he couldn’t begrudge the life she’d led before the betrothal. No doubt, she had never dreamed she’d be forced to marry the Beast.
Besides, he wasn’t a virgin himself. Five years ago, a great drought had fallen over Eberon. With no rain or lightning for a year, his power had completely drained away. Even so, only one of the camp followers had dared to let him touch her. She’d been older than the other women and not as popular, but she’d been kind to Leo. Especially when he’d asked her how a man could please a woman.
For a few months, Leo had experienced a taste of what other men enjoyed regularly, but then the storms had returned.
He glanced down at his gloved hands. It was tempting, so tempting, to go to the nearby cliffs, remove his gloves, and shoot lightning bolts over the water until his power was completely gone.
Then he would be able to hold Tatiana’s hand. Touch her cheek. Her hair. Her body. Woo her in bed like any other newlywed husband.
But with his power gone, how would he protect her?
“Leo?” the general yelled in front of his tent. “Are you awake?”
“Coming.” Leo threw on his cloak, then lifted the flap and stepped outside. Dawn was breaking, streaking the eastern horizon with shades of gold and pink. “What news?”
“Your lady is safely ensconced in the southwestern tower.” General Harden pointed at it, then looked Leo over. “You’re still dressed. Did you never sleep?”
“I couldn’t.” Leo glanced at the tower. “I’ve been trying to figure her out.”
The general snorted. “Take some advice from an old man who’s been married over thirty years. Never try to understand a woman. It will drive you insane, and you still won’t understand.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
The general gave him a wry look. “You’re used to winning battles, aye?”
Leo nodded. “Of course.”
“Then prepare yourself for defeat.” The general chuckled as he sauntered toward his tent. “Get some sleep, boy. She’s safe now.”
Defeat? Leo frowned. He wasn’t about to take the general’s word on that. Tatiana would soon learn that he was in charge. He studied the tower. Safe, was she? He was tempted to see just how safe she really was.
When he’d studied the fortress earlier, he’d noticed a narrow strip of land between the outer wall and dry moat. The strip ended with a cliff about six feet before the southwestern tower loomed up from the edge of the rocky promontory. A metal drainpipe was fastened to part of the tower, probably used to carry waste from a privy to the sea below. A normal man could never reach the drainpipe from the cliff. He would plummet to his death on the rocks below.
But Leo was not a normal man. And he was tired of other men watching over Tatiana. She was his betrothed. His responsibility. His challenge.
He removed his gloves and stuffed them beneath his belt. Lightning power tingled his fingertips as he strode through the camp, headed for the fortress. When he passed a narrow pole, he wrenched it from the ground and tore the red-and-black flag off the top. At the edge of the camp, he broke into a run.
Power surged through his limbs, increasing his speed. If one of the guards on the wall spotted him, he’d be nothing more than a blur.
As he approached the dry moat, he leaped into the air, planted the pole in the ground, and catapulted himself across. Releasing the pole, he landed neatly next to the wall. Immediately, he took off, running along the narrow strip of land between the wall and moat. By the time he reached the cliff’s edge, he was at top speed.
With a leap, he hurled himself through the air. The sea raged against rocks below. Sparks skittered around his hands, pulling him like a magnet toward the metal pipe that ran down the side of the southwestern tower.
He latched on to the pipe and dug his booted feet into the recessed mortar between the stones. Barely pausing to catch his breath, he climbed up the pipe. Near the top, he spotted some wooden beams protruding a few inches from the tower wall. No doubt, the beams provided the base for a wooden floor inside the tower.