Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 138

Chapter 138: Second Suitor
Sapphira’s face hardened as the next suitor entered. He moved near and took her hand, kissing it elaborately, and sat as close to her as the adjacent chairs would allow. She scooted away, and Trace noticed her slipping her hand behind the folds of her skirt to wipe it off.

“Good Morning, Your Highness,” Denholm’s voice was sickly sweet.

Sapphira sighed. “Good Morning. Thank you for your attendance here today. On behalf of the entire royal family, we appreciate you and your family’s loyalty to the kingdom.”

The words were a script, a polite but distant way of addressing the man, but he didn’t catch on.

“It is my very great pleasure, Princess!” He gushed, “And may I compliment you on the inclusion of such a low born man as my competitor. It really was so magnanimous of you to bring him as well; it does make the lower nobility feel so valued. A marvelous decision by a beautiful and wise princess. I trust his disappointment will not be too great if he is not chosen; sometimes these charitable acts can give men ideas above their station.”

Trace refrained from rolling his eyes, but barely.

“It was not merely a ceremonial summoning, he is a very strong contender,” Sapphira began to try to break the news gently. Trace found it incredibly awkward and wished she would just tell Denholm to leave.

“Trying to make me jealous?” Denholm’s smile didn’t dim for a moment, “Your Highness, you are too cruel! But I adore it. I adore you!”

He reached for Sapphira’s hand as she pulled it away.

“Contain yourself, Sir.” She said sharply. “I will not hear insincere declarations of affection from a man I barely know!”

“Your standoffishness and modesty do you great credit, Your Highness. I am delighted at your innocence, but you need not pretend with me.” Denholm sat back a little and folded his hands across his stomach.

It was a gesture that reminded Trace of Oakdown, and he couldn’t keep the distaste from his expression. Thankfully, Denholm either didn’t notice or ignored him.

“I am not pretending. Do not touch me. Although my father selected you as a finalist, I must break the news to you that I have not chosen you to be my intended husband.” Sapphira began to breathe a little deeper, as if she were having trouble containing her temper. Trace couldn’t blame her.

“You continue to toy with me, Your Highness, but I cannot abide such teasing!” Denholm was relentless, and Sapphira’s face reddened.

“I am not teasing!” Her voice began to rise. “I’m not playing games, I’m not keeping you in suspense. I plainly, honestly, do not like you. I could not imagine being married to you.”

“You have not spent enough time with me,” The suitor’s eyes hardened as the princess’s resistance finally began to crack his pleasant facade.

“I have spent more than I care to already,” Sapphira said firmly.

“Two visits and a few dances are hardly enough time to truly appreciate me. I saved you when you fell, helped support you through the excruciating pain…”

“The pain was nothing,” Sapphira waved a dismissive hand over the matter of Anaisa’s injury. “The doctor healed it quickly.”

“You insist on lying,” Denholm shook his head, “I’m sure the pain was quite terrible. Why do you obscure the truth?”

“I do not,” The princess glared openly at him now, “And accusing royalty of lying is the height of impropriety. I would like for you to leave.”

“Another lie! You want me to stay,” Denholm’s eyes narrowed. “You will have me for a husband, and so it is better for you if you cease your futile attempts to resist your feelings. Do you not feel the heat between us? The electricity?”

“I…” Sapphira began, but paused. Her face became confused. “What?”

“You sense it, don’t you,” Denholm leaned closer, and lowered his voice. “Like the crackle of the air before a storm. The storm of our passion.”

“Please leave before I have my bodyguard remove you forcibly from my presence,” Sapphira’s voice was strangely distant, her eyes unfocused for a moment. “You displease me.”

“I think I please you a great deal more than you are willing to admit,” Denholm smiled in a way that made Trace’s skin crawl.

“What are you doing? How are you doing that?” Sapphira stood suddenly and moved away.

“I see your perception of me has changed somewhat,” The suitor stood as well. “Instead of ordering me to leave, you intend to lead me on a most satisfying chase.”

Trace braced himself to jump forward and tackle the man as Sapphira looked at him, but Denholm held up a hand.

“Your bodyguard cannot help you. This is part of the plan, and he is unable to interfere.”

Trace found his feet planted firmly to the floor. Rage boiled up within him as Denholm shot him a smirk and moved towards the princess.

“No! Get away! Trace, take him out of here!” Sapphira commanded, true fear lacing her words.

Trace took a deep breath, and concentrated his eyes on the predator in the room.

“Stop this.” He said firmly to Denholm. “The plan, as I understand it, is to have you marry the princess. You terrifying her and harassing her will surely run contrary to that goal. I’m confident I possess the ability to protect Her Highness from you, because if she is harmed, it will be far longer before she is able to be a bride.”

The words worked. He wasn’t intending to interfere with Barnabas’s plot. He was attempting to protect Sapphira. The thrill of exploiting the loophole was fed into the adrenaline he felt as he stepped forward with ice in his gaze.

Denholm looked him up and down, measuring himself against the bodyguard. Apparently he thought the fight would not be worth it today.

“I will take my leave, Sweet Sapphira,” The man audaciously addressed the princess informally as he bowed, but shot a final smile at Trace with a taunt.

“Our fathers should be meeting momentarily, my bride, and no doubt make the arrangements. I regret that Her Highness the queen will not be able to attend our wedding. My father heard that your magic doctor is working hard to heal her of an infirmity which leaves her quite indisposed and sleepy…”

Letting his voice trail off, Denholm grinned wickedly and swept from the room.