Fallen in Love by Lauren Kate Page A

it warped into ugly, wretched loneliness after the soul had tasted love.
    No man should be allowed to make the same mistake. Even through his jealousy, Roland could see that. It fell to him to stop Alexander.
    He swallowed, sighed inwardly, and drew his sword. It was a meter long and as sharp as the pain stabbing his heart at having to confront this man. “Soldier,” Roland said flatly. “I do not jest.”
    The man advanced, waving his sword awkwardly. Roland deflected it with an effortless flick of the wrist. The blades clashed dully.
    Alexander’s slid earthward with the lightest guidance from Roland’s blade, until it glanced off the wet hay on the floor of the stable.
    “Why would you so willingly ride to your own death?” Roland asked.
    Alexander grunted and lurched back into fighting position, raising his blade chest high. “I am not a coward.”
    Perhaps not, but he was exceptionally unskilled. He had probably picked up some swordsmanship as a child, jousting at haystacks at summer festivals with his boyhood friends. He was no soldier. He’d be dead in an hour on the front.
    Or Roland could kill him now.…
    In that moment, he had a vision of his blade swinging deftly down on this man’s bare neck. The shock of a severed spine and the slick red blood dripping from the steel onto the dirt.
    How easy to end this man’s short life. Take his place up in that tower and love her as she needed to be loved. Roland knew how to do it now.
    But then he blinked and saw Rosaline. The baby.
    Do not slaughter
, he reminded himself.
Only persuade
.
    He leaped forward lightly, swinging his sword toward Alexander, who scrambled backward, spinning wildly away. This time he avoided Roland’s blade by sheer luck.
    Roland laughed and his laughter tasted bitter. “I am offering you a boon, soldier—and I promise you, I followa higher command than your liege. Know that I will not dishonor your intentions. Let me go to war for you.”
    “You speak in riddles.” Alexander’s fear had stretched the skin around his mouth tight as a leather drum. “You cannot replace me.”
    “Yes,” Roland said, seething. “If nothing else, at least I know
that
.”
    In a burst of violence, Roland forgot his purpose. He went at Alexander with the fury of a lover scorned. In the face of Roland’s blade, Alexander stood rigid, sword extended. To his credit, he did not back away. But with another clash of their swords, Roland had disarmed Alexander. He held his blade’s tip at the young man’s heaving throat.
    “A true knight would yield. He would accept my offer and serve his people here, protecting his home and his neighbors when they need protection.” Roland swallowed. “Do you yield, sir?”
    Alexander gasped for air, unable to speak. He kept casting his eyes downward to the blade at his neck. He was terrified. He nodded. He would yield.
    A calm came over Roland, and he let himself close his eyes.
    He and this pale mortal Alexander loved the same bright thing. They could not be enemies. It was then that Roland chose his side. He would not spare Alexander’s life for Alexander’s sake, but for Rosaline’s.
    “You are a braver man than I.” And it was true, for Alexander had been strong enough to love Rosaline when Roland was too afraid. “Embrace the luck I give you this night and return to your family.” He had to work to keep his voice steady. “Kiss your wife and raise your children.
That
is honor.”
    They held each other’s gaze for a long, tense moment, until Roland began to feel that Alexander could see through the slit in his visor. How could Alexander not feel the ache in the air between them? How could he not sense how close Roland had come to killing him and taking his place?
    Roland withdrew his sword from Alexander’s neck. He sheathed his weapon, mounted his horse, and rode out of the stable into the night.

    The road was bare and blue in the moonlight.
    Roland headed north. He still needed to find Daniel—at