Claimed & Seduced by Shelley Munro

went riding. I needed to think. Ellard, I sent you a text. You knew I was safe.”
    “I can’t do my job if we’re in different places, besides, Queen Bryna requires an audience. She has sent three messages, and in the third one, she threatened to dismiss me because she deduced I didn’t know your whereabouts.”
    Guilt flashed in Jarlath. Keira was right—people got hurt when he didn’t do the expected. Jarlath reached over and squeezed Ellard’s forearm in apology. “I’m sorry. I’ll let Mother know this was my fault.”
    “Won’t make much difference,” Ellard said. “You’re my responsibility. I should know your location.”
    “I’m sorry,” Jarlath repeated.
    They clattered into the stableyard and several stableboys trotted out to take care of their cambeests.
    Jarlath waved them away, and they backtracked in clear relief, their stolid faces relaxing into teasing and banter. Black wasn’t the easiest charge and Ellard’s cambeest wasn’t much better.
    “Let me stable, Black,” Ellard said. “I want to keep my job.”
    “I will stable, Black. He’s my responsibility.” One of many.
    * * * * *
    “J arlath, at last.” Queen Bryna spoke sharply, exasperation quivering in every line of her slender body. “I expected you to seek me out early this morn.”
    “I’m sorry, Mother. I am here now.” He entered her private sitting room with trepidation and hovered just inside the doorway. As a child, he’d thought of his mother’s rooms as a cave full of treasures. They’d roused his kittenish curiosity and his mother’s fury when he’d accidently broken a model house full of furniture and shifters the size of his paws. Now, he knew to keep clear since touching or breaking brought parental wrath.
    “Sit.” His mother pointed at a chair.
    He hung his head and attempted sincere penitence while skirting a knee-high table and what looked like a puzzle to take the indicated seat.
    “This is the type of behavior I expect from your brother, not you, Jarlath. This is a serious matter, and your father and I expect you to announce your betrothal by cycle end.” Her red Venet slipper tap-tap-tapped on the tile floor to highlight her irritation.
    Jarlath sat stock-still, his attention on his mother. The queen wore a smart navy robe and a tasteful moon-glow necklace and earbobs, her attire quite at odds with her militant mood. He sighed inwardly in defeat. On the plus side, he had breathing space before they expected his announcement, but it still felt like a blaster aimed at his back when his mind kept drifting to Keira.
    His father had kept a mistress, as had his father before him. Perhaps he could…no. He wouldn’t place Keira in that position. Judging by the gossip doing the rounds, her life was difficult enough already.
    “Jarlath.” His mother’s foot commenced tap-tap-tapping again. “Are you listening?”
    “Yes, Mother.”
    “Here is my list. I have included twelve names. They are all of impeccable breeding and reputation. Any of them would make a good wife for you and a queen for our kingdom. I have collected dossiers on each woman. Should you require further information please contact my secretary. He will assist you.”
    “Thank you, Mother.” Jarlath wondered how he forced out the words when panic tightened around his chest like titum bands.
    “Don’t thank me,” his mother snapped. “Peruse the list and come to a decision. That will please me and your father.” A frown took possession of her mouth and flattened it to a thin line of distaste. “What on Viros are you wearing? You resemble a commoner who spends his day toiling in the fields. And your face. Do not enter my presence again in such dishabille.”
    A sharp retort stung the tip of his tongue, but he gritted his teeth and refused to let the disrespectful reply loose. Instead, he nodded and let his mother treat him like a child, a puppet.
    She scanned his face and what she saw must have reassured her because she gave a