Damien St. Cyr

No one knows the truth behind Damien. He is a man haunted by his past who has no hope for his future. Only one thing is certain...He hates the Brotherhood and all it stands for. And he will stop at nothing to see them fall...

Or will he? 

Damien makes his first appearance in:

Getting in to see Damien St. Cyr proved to be even more difficult than getting in to see the king.

His chambers were just off those of the king and queen themselves. In fact, he had traveled here to Hexham in their royal company and had kept to himself almost exclusively since their arrival.

Unlike the other nobles, he never ate in the hall, nor did he venture out to train with the other knights. His time in the list was reserved at dawn or dusk with only the most renowned of tutors, and during those times no other knight was allowed to be near the area.

It made her wonder how Swan had ever glimpsed the man’s cheeks, especially since the prince wore a gilded mask over the top part of his face. He was never seen without a full cloak, even in the dead of summer, with a cowl pulled up to conceal the mask.

Not that she knew what said mask looked like. She’d only heard other courtiers gossip about it. Many claimed that he had been burned as a young man and sought to cover those scars. Others said he was deformed from birth and that no one had ever glimpsed his real face or hair.

But if Swan was correct...

“He will see you, milady.”

Rowena let out a relieved breath as his servant stood back and opened the door to let her inside the prince’s private chambers.

Nervous and unsure, she entered his chambers slowly. They were lush with burgundy wall hangings and ornate, mahogany chairs covered by plush dark blue cushions. There was a closed door to her right that no doubt led from this sitting area into be bed chamber.

Damien stood with his back to her, looking out a corner window. He was a tall man. One of intimidating size.

“Rowena de Vitry,” he said her name in a voice that was silken and smooth. Deep and cultured. “What brings the renowned Lady of Love into the humble presence of a man such as myself?”

She swallowed and wished she knew more about the noble lord before her. But in truth, few rumors were ever spoken about him and that in and of itself told much about his family’s vast influence. 

And Damien’s power.

“I’ve come to ask a favor of you, my lord.”

He turned toward her then. Rowena could see nothing of his face or form. His thick cloak held him completely concealed from her. Even his hands were covered by dark gray gloves. 

There was something so commanding about his presence that it sent a shiver over her,

“And what is this favor you would ask of me, my lady?”

“You are to fight Stryder of Blackmoor on the–“

He let out a hiss so hate-filled that it made her jump and succeeded in cutting off her words immediately.

“Forgive me, Rowena. May I call you, Rowena?”

Her heart hammering, she nodded.

He moved to stand just before her so that he towered over her slight frame. She had a feeling he did it just to intimidate her and it worked much better than she would have liked.

Damien lifted his gloved hand up to her chin and then tilted her head so that she was looking up into the merest of outlines hidden beneath the folds of his cowl. 

“You are beautiful,” he breathed. “I can see why he took you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Never beg, Rowena. ‘Tis degrading.”

She tried to pull away, but he grabbed her arm and held her near him. 

He laughed darkly at her efforts to free herself. “It won’t do you any good to fight me, Rowena. I know all about you and that bastard. What the two of you did this morning while you thought yourselves safe in his cell. Who do you think had Henry separate you two even while Eleanor argued against it?”

She froze at his words. “I don’t know what you mean.”

His grip tightened. “Of course you do. No doubt you dream of feeling him inside you again even while you look at me.”

She struggled to free herself of his oppressive grip. How dare he handle her so! 

And yet he was one step away from two powerful thrones. No one would ever question anything this man did.

“Sh,” he said quietly. His touch turned from forceful to soothing. “Forgive me for my manners. I don’t normally attack women, I promise you. ‘Tis just my anger at your earl knows no bounds. The mere mention of his name...” 


He released her so suddenly that she actually stumbled away from him. 

Sadness engulfed the man. He seemed to deflate right before her eyes. “Ask me for no mercy or quarter where that man is concerned, Rowena. I have spent far too many hours of my life wishing him dead.”

“Why? What has he ever done to you?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he spoke with a deadly calm that sent a chill over her. “Your secret is safe with me, my lady. I will tell no one what I know of the two of you. But I would ask one small price for my silence.”

She braced herself for more cruelty. “And that is?”

He waited several minutes before he spoke and when he did so his tone was so low that she barely heard it. 

“If you still believe in God, then say a prayer for me. He turned a deaf ear to my prayers long ago.”