Impulse Page 5

  A knock on the main bedroom door broke my thoughts.

  ‘Hello? Miranda, isn’t it?’

  I spun around to see a short—even shorter than me—stocky girl with golden, curly hair peeking out beneath her maids’ handkerchief. Rosy cheeked and lips bursting with a hundred smiles, her wide green eyes roved over me with open curiosity.

  ‘Hi.’ I couldn’t have kept from smiling if I tried: she had the sort of face that compelled you to grin.

  When she stepped in closer and set the tray down on the table, I could see that she wasn’t a young girl; she was in fact double my age, late thirties perhaps. She had lots of little laugh lines around her eyes, letting me know she enjoyed life and found lots to laugh about. I liked her instantly.

  ‘I’ve brought you a lovely breakfast. Rice pudding, with jam on the bottom, the way my own mother makes it.’

  ‘Thanks…’ My mouth stayed open in an unspoken question.

  ‘Call me Jill or Jilly. I like Jilly best. It’s what everybody who’s close to me calls me. Oh, and Marko is at a meeting and should be done in an hour or so.’

  ‘Thanks, Jilly.’ I glanced at the food. ‘This looks great.’

  Jilly smiled and put her hands on her well-rounded hips. ‘So have you come back to live here?’

  Her familiarity made me grin. At least someone was getting to the point around here. I wished Marko would do the same: just ask me why I’d returned so that I could tell him, in plain words, how strongly I felt for him; that I maybe even loved him, and also that I thought his sister was as evil as Damir, and could quite possibly want to murder him for his throne.

  ‘Maybe,’ I said, remembering Jilly’s question. ‘For a while at least…but I’m not sure how long I’ll stay.’

  ‘Away from your family and everything you’ve ever known? It must be a good reason.’ She winked. ‘Is it Marko?’ Her smile turned wicked. ‘I’d leave my husband for the king in a second—and not because he’s the king.’ She fanned herself with a cloth. ‘He’s achingly handsome, isn’t he?’

  I nodded. Achingly was a good word to describe how it felt to sleep so close to Marko and not be able to touch him.

  Jilly swatted me on the bottom with her cloth and laughed. ‘Stop thinking those naughty thoughts, Miranda. I can tell by the look on your face.’

  ‘I’m not,’ I lied, slapping the cloth away. But my red-hot face gave me away.

  ‘So, do you plan on marrying him? Like he wanted? Or did you come for something…or someone else?’ She paused and gave me another one of her loaded winks. ‘The rather handsome Robbie, perhaps?’

  A barrage of questions like this should have annoyed me, but it didn’t. It only made me question my decision to stay here, despite knowing Marko’s feelings. Instead of perving on Marko while he slept half-naked, I should have been warning him of Marin’s perpetual danger at Sylvia’s hands—whether he liked to hear it or not. That was a big part of the reason for coming. I wasn’t going to leave my family behind for a crush that was no longer reciprocated. At least I hoped not.

  ‘I just came back because I wanted to return…as a free citizen,’ I finally answered Jilly, who was fussing with the breakfast setting, giving the cutlery a quick polish with the same cloth she’d whipped my butt with. ‘Is Anne around?’ I asked, to change the subject, and because I really wanted to see her.

  Jilly’s smile quickly receded and was replaced with a subtle pinch between her brows. ‘Anne doesn’t work the upper levels of the castle anymore. She works below, in the dungeons, delivering food to the prisoners.’

  She must have been talking about another Anne, because the Anne I knew would definitely not be comfortable feeding dangerous criminals. She was way too gentle and shy. But Jilly had said that Anne wasn’t on the upper levels anymore, which implied we were speaking about the same Anne.

  ‘The dungeons?’ I shook my head. ‘But Anne’s too…I don’t know…I just can’t imagine her wanting to work there.’ I leant against the dining table and furrowed my brow. ‘Why would Marko do that?’

  Jilly set the cutlery back down beside the breakfast bowl.

  ‘It wasn’t Marko who ordered the changes,’ she said in a scratchy whisper. ‘It was Sylvia.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I’d better go.’ Her voice resumed its former chirpiness. ‘I’ve plenty of jobs to do. Nice to meet you, Miranda,’ she called over her shoulder before leaving.

  Though the room was warm, I shivered after Jilly left. The idea of Anne down in the cold, dark dungeons, giving food to Damir and his men, made my skin crawl. It was awful and wrong. Anne belonged up here where it was much safer. If anything, Marko couldn’t find a more loyal and trusting employee in the castle. Anne had been completely enamoured of Marko.

  I plonked myself down on a chair at the small, wooden dining table. This new information fed my fears. Sylvia had arranged for this, perhaps to get rid of somebody Marko could trust. She could even be using Anne to send messages to Damir.

  I sighed and massaged my temples with the balls of my palms, wondering just how I was going to broach the subject of Sylvia, and now Anne, with Marko, without getting his back up. But it had to be done and today was the day to do it. Otherwise, what on earth was I here for?

  Because of everything I’d eaten the night before, and the troubling news I’d just received, I wasn’t very hungry for once, and didn’t even bother raising the lid to look at the rice pudding, though I’d probably regret it later.

  Footsteps interrupted my thoughts and Marko strode through the open door through which Jilly had left.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said. ‘Sorry I wasn’t here when you woke, but I had some…’ his eyes skipped to the untouched food, ‘…matters to attend to.’ Concern creased his brow. ‘You haven’t eaten?’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  He nodded and then shrugged. ‘We can eat while we’re out.’ His eyes roved down to my lips and back up. Again I wondered if last night’s dream kiss had actually happened.

  ‘I’ll give you a few minutes to get ready if you like.’

  ‘Okay, thanks,’ I said, wondering if he was implying that I needed it. ‘That would be great.’

  Marko disappeared behind the adjoining door. I could hear him moving about his room, the clank of a glass, the opening of a drawer and the shuffling of papers.

  I rushed into the ensuite and began to do my hair in front of the mirror above the basin. It was pulled back into a messy ponytail, but I recalled Marko saying how much he loved it when I’d worn it down at the ball after the fertility dance, so I yanked the elastic out and wet my hands before running them through my hair to bring out the slight curl. It was stupid of me to even think it, but perhaps having my hair this way would stir a memory of how he’d once felt about me.

  I had no makeup with me so I had to do with what stared me back in the mirror, which, apart from my large, thickly lashed brown eyes, didn’t impress me much. But after a few hard pinches of my cheeks, I at least looked alive. Perhaps I could ask Jilly to bring me some makeup the next time I saw her.

  A few minutes later, I knocked on his door.

  ‘Come in,’ he said.

  With my stomach flipping, I entered. Marko was standing by the dining table, reading a document. He stuck it inside a black folder and closed it as I approached.

  ‘Hi.’ I exhaled noisily. ‘Can I ask you something?’

  He stared at me, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

  ‘You can ask me anything.’

  He rested his hands against the table behind him, and sort of slouched back, crossing his booted ankles. It was a sexy pose, but then Marko only needed to breathe and he smouldered.

  Turning away from the distracting sight of him, I spoke to the nearest piece of furniture—a polished, wooden coffee table. I’d start with Anne first and work my way up to the touchy subject of Sylvia.

  ‘I hear Anne is working in the dungeons.’ I gnawed on my bottom lip and turned back around. ‘It must be horrible for her
.’

  Marko raised his brows. ‘Anne? Yes. I thought so too when Sylvia first suggested it, but I don’t believe I’ve seen Anne happier.’

  I raised my brows. There was no way anyone could be happy about seeing psycho Damir—a man who’d committed patricide, and who also thought it was perfectly normal to slice girls up and sew their legs together to make a mermaid’s tail—and his creepy men on a daily basis.

  Marko pushed himself off the table before coming to stand beside me. He bent his head to meet my eyes. ‘I’d never force Anne to do something she didn’t want to. I asked her, after a couple of weeks, to return to the main floor, and she refused.’ He shrugged and rubbed his chin. ‘She likes working with the prisoners. She said it makes her feel good to be doing something charitable.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Her own words.’

  Marko took hold of my hand and gave it a light squeeze. His touch felt reassuring and sensual all at once. But why was he giving off sensual vibes when he only saw me as a friend?

  ‘Okay. I suppose if she’s happy then there’s nothing we can do.’ I shrugged, and tried not to focus on the fact that Marko still held my hand in his.

  ‘Correct. Remember, she is old enough to make her own decisions.’

  ‘Yep. She is.’ I nodded, wondering if there was hidden meaning in his words. But I decided I was imagining things. All I was doing was avoiding the subject of Sylvia.

  Marko eyed me thoughtfully and tugged on my hand. ‘Let me show you something, Miranda; something secret and very special.’

  It was a bit of a derail, but I allowed myself to be dragged across his room to the far left-hand corner of his quarters, where two bare walls met.

  ‘Tell me what you see?’ Marko asked, a crazy smile on his lips.

  I stared at the unmarked grey stone walls and back at Marko, whose eyes were wide with expectation and twinkling with curiosity.

  As far as I could tell it was just a boring old corner. What did he expect me to see?

  He raised his brows. ‘So?’

  ‘Um…nothing. There’s nothing here.’

  Marko smiled and stepped forward, his eyes never leaving mine. My heart fluttered as he rested two hands against the wall behind me, on either side of my head, trapping me. He was so close I could have stood up on my tiptoes and brushed my lips against his, and I almost thought he was about to do just that when a sudden warmth flooded my back. I gasped and turned around just as the solid stone behind me lit up with light crystals and disappeared into the ceiling, leaving a great, gaping opening, a doorway I very nearly fell into had Marko not wrapped an arm around my waist.

  ‘Oh my God! What just happened?’ I asked, my breathing ragged—partly because of the weird stone-wall-turned-sci-fi-entryway, and partly because Marko still had me by the waist, pressing my back against his solid front. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest and the rampant beat of his heart.

  ‘This is my secret. Only you, my mother, my father and I have ever seen it.’

  After finally catching my breath I drew slightly away from Marko, my eyes shooting up to where the wall had disappeared.

  ‘Wow.’ I shook my head, unable to speak.

  Marko came to stand beside me. ‘My father assumed the rooms behind it were of importance to the original rulers. They made this door especially so that only true and trusted people could enter.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I took another step forward. My eyes had now adjusted to the dim corridor. Small light crystals were embedded in its walls in a long line on either side, like strings of fairy lights. The air inside the narrow corridor smelt musty and damp. Marko took out his dagger and slashed at some of the thicker cobwebs that marred our path.

  ‘My grandfather discovered Marin, as you know, and yet he never, after years of sleeping in this very room, discovered the door. My father, however, rested his hands against the walls one day and it warmed beneath his touch and opened. He showed my mother, and her hands did the same. But when they showed my grandfather, it would not open. He didn’t believe them.

  Then, one day, my father called Damir, Sylvia and myself to the room, in turn, oldest to youngest. When I was summoned in, after my brother and sister had left with looks of annoyance on their faces, my father led me to this very wall and asked me to touch it. It opened instantly.’

  Marko wiped the cobwebs from his knife against his black trousers and beamed a smile that could have lit a football field. ‘He said that it opened because we loved and cherished the city of Marin above all else, and wanted only what was good for the city and its people. The wall had opened for us, to reveal the castle’s heart, because it trusted us. Marin trusted us.’

  I smiled. ‘That’s a beautiful story. So does that mean your father knew that Damir was…well…bad?’ I wanted to say Sylvia as well but decided against it.

  Marko nodded, slowly. ‘My father considered the door a test of sorts. He believed, strongly, that the walls trusted him, and with that belief was born a theory of his. That only those who loved my father—the true king of Marin—would be allowed the secret entry. That’s why my mother and I could do it. We loved my father most. Damir and Sylvia always favoured our grandfather.’

  I shuddered, thinking about Marko’s creepy, mermaid-obsessed grandfather’s study and the book I’d found which had demonstrated, in drawings, the metamorphosis of a woman into a mermaid.

  ‘So, now that your father is gone and you’re the king, do you think only those who love you are able to open it?’

  Marko stared at me a long moment. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t let anyone try.’

  ‘It would be a good way to find out who you can trust.’

  Marko’s eyes turned pensive and he looked away, shaking his head. ‘If I did that then I’d be tempted to test the love of somebody in particular, to see if they love me as I do them. I’m not sure I could handle it if they didn’t return my love.’ He turned to face me, his eyes deeper than any ocean.

  A warm, tingly sensation spread through my chest. Was he implying me? Or maybe Sylvia?

  The door behind us slid shut, soundlessly, sealing us in the secret corridor. I reached out and groped for his hand and when I found it, held on tightly.

  ‘This door totally supports the alien spacecraft theory you mentioned once,’ I said.

  Marko’s eyes widened like that of an excited child and shone brightly in the dimness. ‘Exactly. Now you can see how I came to think it.’

  He tugged my hand and led me along the corridor, stopping at what appeared to be a blank wall with a small window.

  ‘You have to see this. It’s a small room, an important room—a room with no opening. No matter how many times I’ve touched the walls I’ve failed to find a door. There is no way inside and yet you can see, by the intricate drawings on the walls, that somebody spent a lot of time in there.’

  I stood on my tiptoes and peered in.

  The room was faintly lit by light crystals dangling from the ceiling, allowing me to partially see a hand-drawn city of Marin, scrawled against the smooth stone wall in black ink. Whoever had drawn it had loved their city and its people. So much care had gone into the drawings. If only I could get in there and see it up close.

  A large black spider dropped and dangled right in front of my face. I shrieked and fell back, tripping over Marko’s foot and landing on my bottom. After a few seconds of silence we both laughed. But Marko was quick to help me to my feet.

  ‘I can’t believe there are underwater-world spiders! What next?’

  He grimaced. ‘Rats.’

  I froze and he laughed. ‘No more or less than in your world, Miranda.’ He took my hand again and tugged me along. ‘Come. If we exit the corridor at the other end we can head directly down the main passageway and out to the gardens.’

  We passed a narrow passage to my right, which led to a dead end.

  ‘That passage leads to the dungeons. I suggest you never roam there.’

  ‘But there are
no doors so how would—’ I stopped short. It was one of those secret openings.

  Marko frowned and shook his head. ‘Don’t ever use it.’

  ‘I won’t,’ I said, but secretly I was thrilled that he assumed I would have the ability to open it with my hands. That he believed that Marin, the city, trusted me.

  After two more spider attacks, which gave me a good excuse to throw myself at Marko, we came to an abrupt halt at another wall. He pressed his hands against it and the wall warmed and lit up beneath his touch before sliding open. We stepped into a small room and crossed to an unlocked wooden door.

  The corridor we stepped into was wide with high ceilings. Marko took two turns, a left and then a right, and we were suddenly at the castle’s grand double doors, held open by twin blond guards. Chirping birds called to us from outside and excitement stirred in my belly.

  ‘It’s autumn, isn’t it?’ I asked, as a cool, gentle breeze tickled my hair.

  The light crystals did a great job at resembling morning light, even making Marko’s dark hair shine. We paused at the top of the stairs to drink in the view of the city through squinted eyes as we adjusted to the light. It was just as stunning as I’d remembered it. The concentric circles of land, the moats and the little gondolas, the beautiful white buildings and sparkling lights stretching out as far as the eye could see.

  ‘Yes, it’s the beginning of autumn. Let’s take a gondola ride to the countryside. We can visit the vineyards and watch the leaves fall.’

  ‘Great.’ I smiled and pushed Sylvia to the back of my mind. I’d allow myself one good day with Marko before I got down to business and started sniffing out the castle for treasonous goings-on.