His grip on her wrist turned strangling. “You dare threaten me?” The coldness in his voice caused a flash of alarm inside her. They were alone, and while she’d learned defensive skills from Bennick, the commander towered over her.
She tugged her arm against his hold. “Let me go.”
Beside them, pebbles shifted underfoot. They both turned to see Bennick round the hedge, Dirk at his side.
Seeing Bennick after four days was an exhilarating kind of shock. Clare’s breathing halted. Her eyes latched onto him, scanning him. He looked tired. His blue uniform was well-maintained, but his stubble was thicker and the skin beneath his eyes was shadowed.
His gaze sliced over her, narrowing on her wrist, where the commander grasped her with a white-knuckled grip.
Bennick’s nostrils flared. “Release her.”
The commander’s jaw worked, but he unwrapped his fingers. Clare snatched her arm back and retreated a step, rubbing her wrist.
Bennick was still focused on the commander when he asked her, “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
Bennick’s face remained hard as he eyed his father. “Dirk,” he ordered curtly.
The older bodyguard moved forward, gesturing for Clare to follow him.
She hesitated, looking at Bennick. “Aren’t you coming?”
“No.” His voice was pure ice as he glared at his father. “The commander and I need to talk.”
Chapter 33
Bennick
Tension rode Bennick hard as he viewed his father. Commander Markam was tall and broad-shouldered. Age had touched him lightly. His features were strong and square and his booming voice carried authority with ease. When Bennick was young—back when he idolized his father—he’d always wanted to look more like the commander. Now he wished nothing tied them together.
He’d been watching his father since the ball, instinct warning that the commander would make a point to corner Clare andintimidate her. Bennick had also been watching Clare, and he knew she’d made a habit of wandering the queen’s garden. Apparently, the commander had noticed, too.
He heard Clare follow Dirk’s prompting and he was grateful his friend led her away. He couldn’t focus on his father when she was there, watching him. He longed to be the one taking her arm, but he knew he’d lost that privilege, and the pain of that loss only flared his anger.
A vein in the commander’s temple throbbed, his eyes trained on his son. “It looks like you have something you want to say.”
Fury rippled under Bennick’s skin and his hands fisted. “You will not approach Miss Ellington again.”
The commander scowled, the corners of his eyes creasing. “You have no authority over me.”
“In this I do. Miss Ellington was placed under my protection.”
“And you deem me a threat?”
“Yes.”
The commander huffed. “You truly think I would harm her?”
“You’re no fates-blasted saint.” Bennick pulled in a breath,fighting for calm. “You won’t threaten her, touch her, or even make her uncomfortable, or I’ll report you to the king.”
Commander Markam stepped closer, voice dropping low. “You fool. You’ve lost the king’s regard. Every attack made against the princess or decoy brings you closer to losing your career.” He shook his head. “You never should have thrown away your future in the city guard. Bodyguards fall out of favor too easily.”
It was an old argument and it made the muscles in Bennick’s neck tighten. Best to ignore it. “I can’t be any clearer. If you threaten Miss Ellington again, you and I will exchange more than words.”
The commander’s lip curled. “You will treat me with respect.”
“Respect is earned. You told me that, back when your words meant something.” Bennick grit his teeth, cutting himself off. The smell of roses was thick on the warm air, almost smothering him. He retreated a step, hands spread. “I’m done.”
“No.” His father glared. “This needs to end. You ignore my advice in public and in private. You make rash decisions just to defy me. I offered you more men for the princess’s tour to Mortise and you all but spat in my face. Do you truly think you won’t need them?”
“I don’t need anything from you.”
Commander Markam’s teeth bared. “Fates curse you, boy, I’m only trying to help!”
“You always act like it’s my fault,” Bennick snapped. “Like I’m the one in the wrong because I can’t forgive you for a simple mistake. But it’s never one mistake with you. It’s a thousand mistakes, made repeatedly and with no remorse.”
“Ben—”
“You threatened her.”
The commander stilled. “What?”
“Clare. You threatened her life and forced her to become the decoy. She told me everything.” Bennick pushed a hand through his hair, disgust pulling at his insides. “You have no honor.”
“The king tasked me with finding a decoy, and once I was assured she hadn’t taken part in the attack, I knew she would be an excellent choice. You can’t deny she’s been the perfect decoy!”
Bennick shook his head. “I should have guessed the truth. I learned a long time ago you don’t care who you hurt.”
Something like regret ghosted across his father’s face, but Bennick dismissed it. Regret, from the man who hadn’t seemed the least bit ashamed when his son had found him in the arms of a mistress? Impossible.
Bennick had so much he wanted to say, but he knew his father would meet him with excuses, as he always did. He turned on his heel.
“Don’t walk away from me,” the commander ordered. “Ben!”
Bennick’s footsteps didn’t slow, and he didn’t look back.
Cardon’s hand snapped up in surrender. “I yield,” he gasped, chest hiking and dropping roughly as he stepped back.
Bennick ground his teeth and disengaged from the fight. He’d discarded his shirt a half hour ago and sweat slicked his front and back. His hands throbbed, blisters forming as he swung the wooden staff; it had been too long since he’d sparred with it.
He and Cardon stood in the castle orchard. Sometimes Bennick came to train here when he wanted to avoid the other soldiers on the training field. The solitude was comforting, as was the fluttering of green leaves blown in a gentle breeze. The calm surroundings were a contrast to
