Rose didn’t tell Maric about Philip, Prince Philip who was now King Philip of Valenris the country they were presently passing through. She didn’t tell him that after she ran away and joined The Fleur Chantante, she had learned months later that Philip had married someone else. She didn’t tell him how she cried for weeks until one day the tears just stopped and she moved on with her life. They weren’t fated to be with one another. That life, her old life, was truly just a fairy tale. Now, she would make it something real, something her own.

However, though the tears stopped flowing, the pain never subsided. Every time she thought of Philip, her heart cried out for him. She was filled with anger at him for marrying someone else, for loving someone else, and anger at herself. Why did she run? She could be happily married, Queen of Valenris, with Philip by her side. She could be the mother to the new prince, Tristan. Rose imagined that the baby prince looked like Philip, with his soft brown hair and warm eyes. Philip’s eyes would sparkle with mischief whenever they thought of something clever to do or say, especially against his father, King Hubert. He loved teasing his father and his younger brother, Adrian, whom Rose only met once. The younger prince was only fifteen when they met, closer to her age than she was to Philip’s. She saw how much Philip loved him and how much Adrian loved him back.

Philip will be an excellent father, Rose thought, smiling sadly to herself. Father to children that will never be her own.

Maric watched her silently. There was a small knock on the door and when Rose went to open it, she saw that the maid had returned to remove the trays. She blushed when she saw Maric sitting there in only a towel, but Maric ignored her. Once she was gone, Rose knew that there wasn’t anything left to do but to go to bed.

“I can sleep on the couch,” Maric said. The couch was small, with only enough room to seat two if they sat very closely together. Maric’s tall frame would mean that his whole bottom half of his body would hang off the end of the couch. He would be more comfortable sleeping on the forest floor, Rose thought.

“Nonsense. There is plenty of room on the bed. We slept together for these past three nights, we can manage again.” Rose should have chosen her words more wisely as Maric had a look of hunger on his face even though he had just eaten. It was a different kind of hunger, one that Rose knew was filled with danger, but pleasure and excitement if he allowed it. For she knew that if Maric reached out for her now, she would be his entirely.

Rose walked to the other side of the bed and sank down into the mattress. It was soft, softer than what she would expect from a bed at an inn. The quilt on top was clean and the sheets white. The pillows smelled of lavender and Rose wasn’t surprised to find a sprig of it tucked neatly into the pillowcase. She quickly removed her robe and slipped under the covers while Maric blew out the candles.

The room filled with darkness. Only a sliver of moonlight came through the window and Rose could just make out Maric moving back to the bed. He hesitated for a moment, before dropping the towel, and pulling the quilt over his body. Rose shivered at the thought of how she was sharing a bed with a naked man. She was tempted to reach over and touch him but feared where that would lead.

Coward.

They both laid still, Rose afraid to make any movement. She knew Maric was still awake, his breathing was light and short, instead of the deep breaths and slight snore that she had become used to in the past few nights.

She didn’t know how long she laid there, her eyes staring up at the ceiling, but it must have been at least an hour until she felt Maric shift and sit up.

“This is the damned most uncomfortable night of sleep I’ve ever had.”

“Is the bed too soft?” Rose asked, even though she felt the same. She could be laying on a bed of clouds and still feel as if it were a bed of rocks with as much tension that filled the room.

Maric stood and glared down at her. “You know why. I can’t stay here a moment longer. I-I-”

“What?”

“I don’t trust myself around you. Not with me like this,” he said, motioning to his nakedness. Rose’s eyes followed his hands and they widened when they saw his thick arousal. He seemed momentarily embarrassed and reached for the towel he dropped earlier and wrapped it around his waist. “And, not with you like that, in this bed, in this room that smells like damned roses.”

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” he said, pulling on his boots. It was the only article of clothing the maid did not take with her. “I need some air. Some relief.”

***

After haranguing the maid for his clothes back, and frightening the woman half to death, Maric dressed and stepped into the cool night air. He took in some deep, steady breaths to calm himself, but still felt the blood raging through his body. Damn Rose.

He growled in frustration.

The clothes, still damp, stuck close to his body, but despite the chill, it did nothing to cool his blood and relieve the ache in his loins. There was only one way. He turned on his heel and headed to the town brothel.

***

The barkeep, a large man with a hooked nose and a thick black beard, scowled at Maric from the end of the bar. Maric would be scowling too if his best customer of the night was just drinking water. The bottom floor of the brothel was situated to be a small bar, with a few tables strewn about the room. Several girls came up to Maric during the past hour trying to tempt him upstairs, but when they realized that he had no coin, most of them disappeared with other customers. Only one, a rather plump lady that seemed to be about Maric’s own age, but the thick paste of powder and other makeup on her face made it impossible to tell. She looked at Maric as if he was something she would like to devour. Maric, himself, lost his appetite.

He would have tumbled her on any other occasion, there would be no need for even a bed, but his thoughts kept turning to Rose, so he kept on drinking his water.

Men and, intriguingly enough, two women, passed through the bar area and up the stairs throughout the hour. Perivin, Maric learned, was a popular stopover to larger cities, including Beaumont. That was why such a small town boasted of three inns and a brothel. Many people didn’t stop for more than a night. And, by the constant foot traffic Maric saw, he and Rose were lucky to have a room for the night.

Well, she was lucky anyway. Maric thought it was best to spend the rest of the night in the brothel, at least until the barkeep threw him out. The man glared at him and set down the glass he just filled for another man. He stepped towards Maric, a scowl planted on his face, when a voice called out.

“Maric?”

Maric turned to see a man walking down the stairs. He was quickly fixing the buttons on his trousers.

“Alistair? What are you doing here?”

“I should ask you the same,” Alistair laughed. “I thought you said you were heading south for the winter.”

“I am.”

Alistair fell down on the seat next to Maric and held up his hand. “Two ales,” he glanced down at the cup of water Maric was drinking and winced before adding, “and keep them coming.” Alistair dropped a few copper coins onto the counter. The barkeep instantly busied himself and two frothy mugs of cold ale appeared before them. Maric nodded his thanks to the barkeep, who ignored him and scooped up the coins into his hand and walked away to the farside of the counter.

“I imagined you would be farther south by now. You left with such urgency. You didn’t even say farewell to-”

“I was delayed. But, it is all handled now. I am still heading south.”

Alistair leaned back and grinned. He was a handsome man, too handsome for his own good, Maric often thought. His hair was a golden blond that fell in thick waves across his head. His eyes a bright blue, the color of a clear sky. And, even his damned teeth were white and straight. Girls threw themselves at him wherever they stopped before, which begged the question.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, I ran into a spot of trouble at a farmhouse about two weeks back. I’ve been riding hell for leather since then. Just made it to this quaint little town tonight.”

“Was she a comely lass?”

Alistair’s eyes twinkled. “She had the longest legs, creamy white, like you have never seen Maric. And her lips, so soft, it was like kissing a cloud.”

“Her father found you two.”

Alistair snorted. “Likely, the father set it all up. It was him who invited me to stay at his home. I am certain he left the door to my room unlocked. I found the girl half naked in my bed when I woke in the middle of the night. What else was I to do?”

“What else indeed?” said Maric under his breath. He took another long drink.

“When her father came charging into the room, demanding that I marry the girl, I fled. Right out the window. I was lucky the bedroom was on the first floor. Would have broken my neck otherwise, or, worse, woken up with a leg shackle.”

Maric chuckled to himself. He wanted to say that this was a rare occurrence for Alistair, but unfortunately once many papas and mamas discovered his true identity, they began scheming. Alistair Theriault was the youngest son of Lord Magnus Theriault, the Duke of Evermore and the king’s uncle and one of his closest advisors. This also meant that Alistair was the king’s own cousin. But, from what Maric gathered, Alistair was the black sheep of the family, running off joining reckless enterprises and unsuspectingly sleeping with women looking to be rich and powerful.

Maric thanked the gods that he was not him.

“And you? I did not expect you here, not alone at least. Usually you’re cozied up yourself with a girl of your own. Unless-” He looked up the stairs from where he just descended. The upper floor of the brothel consisted of rooms for the ladies of the establishment. Maric didn’t need to go up there to know what he would find. The Red Orchid was much like the brothels found in any town, though, in his opinion, slightly cleaner than most. However, the girls were the same. Most of them were painted garrously with white paint on their faces and dark red lips. They were farm girls who moved to the town for more excitement, unwed single mothers, and just enterprising women like Fabienne but without the luck of being in possession of a dead husband’s money. Most of them choose this life as it keeps them off the cold streets and puts food in their bellies and those of their loved ones. Maric rarely used brothels himself, and if he did, it was only if the girl was willing as much as he. Much like Alistair, Maric didn’t need to look too hard to find companionship for the night. He was certain Alistair was pulled off the street by one of the girls when they clapped eyes on him. And, Alistair never turned down a free lay.

Maric held up a hand. “Not tonight. No coin.”

“Ah, well, I have plenty of it,” Alistair said, jiggling his full coin purse. He dropped a few more coins and the barkeep brought two more mugs of ale. “Let us celebrate our reunion.”

***

Rose woke with the first light. She was surprised she fell asleep at all. Her last thought was about Maric, wondering where he went and when he would return. She turned to her side and saw that the bed was empty and cold. He never came back during the night.

When she sat up, Rose saw that his sword and his pack were still there. He didn’t leave without me then, she thought as she swung her feet over the edge of the bed. She quickly put on one of the dresses that she bought the day before. As she suspected, it was a little too loose around her waist and she had to lace it up tight. Otherwise, Rose turned to see how she looked in the mirror, and she looked presentable enough. She splashed clean, cold water on her face that was left in a bowl on the stand near the tub. The maid must have snuck into the room early in the morning to fill it as there was also a fire burning in the fireplace.

Rose pulled on her boots and opened the door to find a tall, blond man standing there, his hand raised as if to knock. She gasped in surprise. He was the most gorgeous man Rose had ever set her eyes on. He smiled broadly at her and bowed slightly. He was incredibly handsome, his smile causing a dimple to show up on his left cheek. He also looked oddly familiar, like she had met him once upon a time. Once upon a dream, perhaps, she thought wryly.

Rose pulled her eyes from the stranger to see Maric slung heavily over the man’s shoulder.

“What happened to him?” Rose asked, her voice raised in alarm. Maric looked unconscious. Did

he have another nightmare? Another collapse?

“Too many ales, followed by some rum and whiskey,” the man said, helping Rose move Maric to the bed. “I am sorry to intrude. The innkeeper told me that this was his room.” The man dropped Maric rather unceremoniously onto the bed. Maric didn’t even stir.

“Yes, it is,” Rose said, taking one of Maric’s booted feet in her hand and pulling the boot free. She began to work on the other. This would delay their departure. She suspected that Maric didn’t sleep all night. At least, she will have a few hours in the morning to replenish their supplies. Maric had been vague about their destination. Besides saying it was in the south, he did not specify how many days it would take to reach their destination, how arduous the journey, or what dangers they may face.

Rose left the rest of Maric’s clothes on and pulled the quilt to cover his body. Though the room was nicely warm from the fire, Maric was out all night in damp clothes and would be lucky if he hadn’t caught a chill.

Rose turned and to her surprise the man was still standing there watching her curiously.

“May I introduce myself? I am Alistair, an old friend of Maric’s.”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “Maric has friends?” The man laughed loudly, causing Maric to stir but not wake. Alistair took a step closer to her, his eyes hooded and a sensual smile playing on his lips. He grasped Rose’s hand in his and brought it up to his lips. Rose felt her heart flutter as Alistair kissed the back of her hand.

“And you, my beauty, are?”

“My wife,” a low voice said. “And, you will be kind enough to keep your damned hands off of her.”

***

Rose turned to see Maric propped up against the bed. He looked terrible as a night of drinking was wont to do.

Alistair turned slowly to Maric. “If you had such a lovely wife tucked away snug, why the devil did I find you at the brothel?”

Maric’s jaw clenched and his eyes burned. Rose pulled her hand away from Alistair, surprised that he still held it on his own. Alistair smiled innocently at Rose. “If I had known, fair maiden, I would have brought your husband right back to you.”

“But, instead, you plied him with alcohol.” Alistair opened his mouth but Rose held up his hand. “All that matters is he is back.” She looked at Maric with her eyebrow raised. They would maintain the charade of being a married couple then? Rose wanted to ask Maric why. Presumably, they would be leaving today, and though it is unusual for a man and woman who are not married to travel together, it wasn’t entirely unheard of. Of course, passing themselves off as husband and wife would make traveling a bit easier.

“You are a lucky man, Maric. Your wife does not easily get jealous.” Alistair returned his gaze to Rose and looked her up and down appreciatively. “She is a great beauty too. Where did you find her?”

“I found him,” Rose answered, becoming increasingly annoyed that Alistair was referring to her as if she was not present while she stood there in front of him. “I pursued him.” Which was true, Rose thought.

Alistair’s eyes widened. “Then, my lady, you are a force to be reckoned with.”

***

Rose and Alistair left Maric to wash up. Despite his protests that he was not tired, Rose knew he could do with a good night’s sleep as much as she knew that he would refuse to and demand to be on the road as soon as possible. They headed down to the tavern below where they ran into the maid on the stairs with a tray of food. Rose redirected her to follow her back down to the dining room. Alistair joined her at one of the tables, though Rose did not invite him to sit down.

“How do you know Maric?” Rose asked as the maid uncovered the trays. On the platters before them were sausages, bacon, and eggs, with thick slices of toasted bread, slices of cheese, and Rose was surprised to see a cluster of fresh picked strawberries with cream. She picked up a piece of toast and began slathering it with butter followed by jam, while Alistair helped himself to a sausage link and a large helping of eggs.

“We traveled together for the past three years.”

“Fighting monsters?”

“Yes, and some other work.”

When Alistair did not say more, Rose asked, “Why is it that I have not heard of you? All the stories are about Maric the Monster Hunter, not Alistair.”

A pained expression passed over his face. “I try to keep my movements quiet. My family, you see, does not approve.”

Alistair was highborn, that was obvious enough by the way he held himself with confidence. He was tall and well muscled, like Maric, and did not have the stoop of someone who worked the land. Neither did Maric, but Maric’s face was dark from spending too much time in the sun, while Alistair was pale, though not sickly. But, it was his eyes that was the most telling. They lit up with humor as if everything around him was humorous somehow. There was always a joke to be had. It was the eyes of someone who grew up with money and never knew a day of hard work in their life. It wasn’t indolent, but, Rose thought, maybe naive.

He smiled at her from across the table and Rose smiled back. She wondered if he would smile at her if she knew what she was thinking. His smile began to brighten and his voice dropped to a whisper.

“You are absolutely beautiful, Rose. You are wasted on a scoundrel like Maric. Run away with me.” One of his hands reached out and grasped hers. Rose would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t tempted. Alistiar truly was gorgeous. Even the maid stammered nervously when she led them to the tavern floor minutes before. Rose was concerned she would drop the tray entirely, but Alistair swooped it out of her arms, like a true gentleman. The maid blushed furiously before standing back and gaping at Alistair until her husband called her away.

And, Rose was an artist. She could appreciate true beauty when she saw it.

Before Rose could pull away, a hand fell onto Alistair’s shoulder, causing him to sit up in alarm. Rose looked up to find Maric watching her closely as if reading her thoughts. A frown deepened on his face, but that was his usual look, so Rose ignored the flutters in her stomach.

“You will leave my wife alone,” Maric said. “Though, I know she has enough sense not to run off with a wastrel like you.”

“It was only in jest,” Alistair said with a wide smile while he winked at Rose, he let her hand go, which was nice as she was able to use it to scoop up some eggs and bacon for herself and continue eating. Maric helped himself to the food before him, picking two large sausages and several slices of toast. He buttered them as he glared at Alistair.

“When are you leaving?”

“Maric!” Rose said. “That is rude. He is your friend. And, he hasn’t even begun telling me of all of your adventures.” She didn’t realize it until just then that Alistair would be a great source for her ballad. She didn’t even know Maric was capable of having friends, as prickly as he was.

Alistair beamed at her. “Well, let me tell you of the time we came across a small village full of strigois. It was near midnight and Maric here wanted to sleep the night in the chapel until morning, but I told him that we would rush in there and kill the strigoi when they least expected it.”

Maric snorted. “What Alistair is not saying is that the chapel was the safest refuge we could have taken. The strigoi would not cross the threshold of a holy place.”

Alistair waved his hand, dismissing Maric’s statement.

“What he is also not saying is that strigois are most active at night. They fear the sunlight. And, that by the time we came across the village, they had not fed in days. We walked right into their clawed hands.”

“Yet, here we are, alive, to regale the tale to your lovely lady,” said Maric. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Alistair continued, his bright blue eyes falling on Rose’s own, “We crept into the village. There was not even the moonlight to guide our way.”

“Another reason we should have waited until morning,” Maric grumbled under his breath. Alistair glared at him, but even Rose could tell he was not serious. Before he could open his mouth again, Maric said, “I followed him down the main road in town, where we were, predictably, attacked. We fought back and are lucky to be alive today. The day is getting late. Let’s go, Rose.” Maric stood and looked at Rose expectantly.

Alistair frowned. “That’s not a way to tell a story at all. No drama, no subtly. Am I right?”

“I will have to agree with you both. That was no way to tell a story, but Maric is right, it is time to leave.” It was already closing in on midmorning and there were still supplies to be purchased.

Rose bid Alistair a farewell. She regretted that she wouldn’t be able to spend more time with the charming man. He was a salve compared to Maric. And, he knew so much about Maric, so much more than Rose did. If she had a little more time with him, maybe it would help her write her song. The adventure with the strigoi would make a good little prelude.

“Well, I have nowhere to be anytime soon. I will join you on your adventures.” Alistair stood and pointedly looked at Maric, who seemed as if he was about to burst with indignation, before turning his gaze to Rose. “Of course, if you will allow it, milady.”

Rose looked between Alistair’s grinning face to Maric’s frowning one. “Yes, of course, we would be delighted.”

***

Alistair excused himself to go gather his possessions from the inn across town. He said he would meet them at the stables in an hour. It was more than enough time to purchase some supplies.

“You are scheming.”

“What do you mean?” Rose asked as Maric followed her through the markets.

“You invited Alistair to join us so you could interrogate him for information. Information about me.”

“Well, you are not the most forthcoming. And, I like his company.” Maric grumbled something under his breath. Rose ignored him. “And, as you said many times before, we are walking into danger. It would be wise of us to include someone else that can fight. We will be safer in numbers.”

“Fine, have it your way. But, I will not be risking my neck for both you and Alistair. He’s reckless, which makes him more dangerous than many of the monsters we will encounter.” Maric stalked off leaving her standing in the middle of the street.

More the merrier, Rose thought, shrugging, and heading to the bakery. They would need more bread and cheese and whatever else Rose could find now that Alistair was joining them. She would also need to sharpen her knives at the blacksmith. Alistair may be reckless and Maric overly cautious, but Rose tended to agree with Maric. It was better to be prepared for the worse than be caught unawares and be dead. Despite what Maric thought, Alistair would be a good addition to their little group. She had seen a cloud of tension and worry on Maric’s face the farther south they travelled. There was something he was not telling her.

***

The day was not turning out as Maric had hoped. He did not give Alistair a passing thought the night before as they sat drinking at the brothel, but seeing him breaking fast with Rose this morning, all smiles, Maric was overcome by the sudden urge to ram his fist down the man’s throat. Rose was right, Alistair was an old friend, well, as old as he could remember, and Maric was stunned by the weight of his jealousy. He is just too damned handsome, Maric thought. He would have Rose eating out of his hands in no time.

That was unfair. Rose was a smart woman. She would know better than succumb to Alistair’s wiles. But, damned if Alistair wasn’t charming. Maric rubbed his chin with the heel of his hand in agitation. And, of course, he would join them. Alistair was always up for a lark. And, Maric suspected his intentions weren’t exactly pure with Rose, despite Maric’s claim that Rose was his wife.

During the night of drinking with Alistair, Maric had come to the decision that he would let whatever happened between him and Rose to happen. She was as much attracted to him as he was to her. Why did he stop last night? She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Maric reached up and touched his lips. He could still taste her.

It’ll be all the harder now with Alistair dogging their steps. There won’t be one moment of privacy.

Maric growled in frustration, before stopping dead cold in his tracks. In front of the stable, he saw Rose talking with Alistair and a woman with long dark hair. She didn’t need to turn for Maric to see the sardonic smile playing on her lips and her dark green eyes sparkling with sensuality.

Odette.

***

“Milady!”

Rose turned to see that Alistair was leading a large white horse out of the stable and waving at her. She smiled to herself. In the daylight, with the large white horse, and the silver on his armor shining brightly in the sunlight, his golden hair, sparkling blue eyes, Alistair truly looked like a knight of legend. Who people thought of when they imagined a hero. Not at all like Maric.

Alistair paused and rushed over to help her carry the parcels she had balanced precariously in a large stack in her arms.

“Thank you,” she said. A woman stepped out of the stable with a black horse of her own and she looked over to where Alistair and Rose stood. She looked at Rose curiously with a toothy smile on her face.

“This is Odette Delevingne,” Alistair said. “She is my companion and stated that she will be joining us.” The lady bowed her head slightly to Rose, which Rose returned. “This is the one I told you about,” Alistair said to Odette, his eyes lingering on Rose and filled with mischief. “This is Rose, Maric’s wife.”

Odette was beautiful, though not in the classical sense. Her face was narrow, and her eyes were large and slightly tilted upwards at the edges creating an exotic slant. They were green with speckles of gold and it was her loveliest feature, though they looked at Rose with a hard glint. Her lips were turned up in a sardonic smile. Rose was taken aback and wondered what she did to offend the woman.

Odette looked over Rose’s shoulder and her face transformed into a brilliant smile. Rose turned to see Maric make his way to them. He was frowning, but for the first time, his frown wasn’t directed at her.

“Odette,” he said, standing by Rose.

Odette smiled at him and leaned in for a kiss. He turned away so that her lips fell on his cheek.

“What are you doing here?”

“I invited her to join us on our quest,” Alistair said, amusement plastered on his face. He placed a hand on Rose’s shoulder. “The more the merrier, right?” he said, echoing Rose’s earlier thoughts.

Rose caught Maric’s eye. He looked at her as if he was expecting her to make the decision. “Yes, I don’t see why not,” she said, filling the awkward silence that descended on them.

Alistair laughed and began to guide Rose into the stables to Daffodil leaving Maric standing outside with Odette. Rose turned to see Odette sidle up to Maric, her face hard and angry.

***

“Who is she? Who is that bitch?” Odette seethed.

“I won’t let you disparage my wife,” Maric said.

“Your wife? I do not believe it, neither does Alistair.”

“Believe it or not, she is. If you do not like it, you can go. I did not invite you here.”

Odette smiled, her lips curling like a cat that got into the cream and Maric was suddenly wary. “No, I will stay. You walked away from me before, I won’t let you do so again. Your wife cannot do for you what I can,” she said, trailing her hand down his chest until it lingered there on his belt. Maric swallowed. It didn’t help that he was filled with pent up need from being with Rose these past few days. Having Odette here was a temptation that he did not ask for.

“We’re finished. I told you months ago.” Maric pushed past her and walked into the stable to see Alistair helping Rose on top of Daffodil. Rose was laughing at something he had said and Alistair was smiling up at her. They looked perfect together. Like a prince and princess in a fairy tale.

Maric wanted nothing more than to throw Alistair down to the ground and beat him within an inch of his life.

“Are you two ready to leave?” Maric asked louder than he intended. Both stopped laughing instantly and Rose frowned. She nudged Daffodil forward until the horse reached Maric.

“Are you okay? You seem pricklier than usual.”

Maric ground his teeth. “I’m just impatient to leave. We will have to ride hard and fast to reach the next village before nightfall unless you want to spend another night in the woods.”

“Fine by me,” Alistair said from on top of his own horse. “Nothing is more romantic than sleeping under the stars, I say.”