Recently rereleased with a new cover, The Mercenary’s Marriage is a tale of earning and giving trust and love.
Brice knew from years of abuse that men of physical power were to be avoided. However, when the walls of her master’s fortress fell, one of the mercenaries claimed her as his prize. He appeared to want more than she feared.
The mercenary, Darius, wanted her trust. He wanted peace. He wanted a life very different than the one he was duty bound to live. Saving Brice from a fate worse than death was his first step toward his dreams.
A movement caught the edge of Darius' vision, but he did not acknowledge it. Jenran continued, “If we can determine which direction they took, we might be able to overtake them.”
Casually nodding his agreement, Darius swept his gaze across the room. Speaking so only his master could hear, he added, “We have an observer.” The man was crouched behind one of the tapestries along the walls. Both exits were two or three hiding places from the hidden man’s position.
“Where is he?” The king did not move except to look up and catch Darius's eye as if they were in conversation.
Just then, the figure darted between shelters. Darius felt his mouth drop; he quickly disguised it by saying, “A girl.”
“Did you just say it was a girl?” Jenran's weary eyes sharpened and focused more carefully on Darius.
“Yes.” Darius carefully turned so he could watch both his master and the girl. “Small build, dark hair, she is definitely not Gwendolyn or one of her frequent companions.” The girl darted to the next hiding place. She was one sprint away from freedom. Darius knew how she felt. The tempo of the heart pounding in his chest and the taste of liberty on his tongue were both familiar sensations. “She is mine,” he said. He glimpsed the king’s smile.
“If you catch her,” he agreed.
The girl darted and Darius followed. She disappeared out the door as he silently hurtled the last bench between them.
Brice ran for her life. The empty halls closed in around her and she was certain every sound echoed louder than the last. She needed to get away before someone saw her. Since birth, she heard stories about how mercenaries treated the women captives after a battle. She could not be discovered. Eventually, she found herself in the promenade opening into the inner gardens. The moment her eyes fell on the lush underbrush bordering and overgrowing the paths, she had an idea.
As she turned down the nearest avenue among the trees, Brice caught sight of movement behind her. Was someone following her?
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