by V Vee
He led her to the back of the linen closet on the second floor, where they were currently, amused by her continued, stunned silence. He knew she would speak eventually and would have some choice words for him. He actually looked forward to convincing her to come over to his way of thinking. Because she would. And they would get married.
Running the fingers of his right against the panel just behind a shelf of bed linens, Alastair stepped back as a click sounded in the small room. When Leyah gasped he grinned.
“There are a number of secret passages installed throughout the palace. They were installed so that my great grandfather could sneak from his bedroom to the rooms of his mistresses or hide his family from terrorists. There are varying schools of thought on why the passages were built.” At Leyah’s continued silence, Alastair turned to look at her.
She looked around the passageway as they began walking through the dark tunnel that was made of brick. Cobblestone paved the floor, and though their shoes echoed on the floor, the sound would not travel beyond the passageway. The tunnel was completely soundproof. Alastair grabbed a flashlight from the shelf built into the wall and made sure the door was closed behind them. He then turning on the light and leading Leyah up a number of stairs, going up countless floors without anyone being wiser, and down a hallway until he came to section where Algerone and Valerie’s suite was. Knowing that Leyah’s suite wasn’t too far from it, he slowed his steps. He directed the light along the wall, coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of a gun.
He released Leyah’s hand and knelt to look at it, before reaching out and picking it up.
“Alastair?” Leyah’s voice trembled behind him and he turned to look at her over his shoulder.
“It’s okay, it’s probably just a gun left by one of the guards when they walked through here to make sure no one was lurking,” he lied. No one knew about the tunnels except his family, so if there were a gun in the tunnel, and near Algerone and Valerie’s suite, near Leyah’s suite, that meant someone in his family had been there. But, had it been with safety for the Crown Prince and his family on their mind, or was the person’s mind filled with something even more sinister?
Alastair shook his head. No, he couldn’t think like that. He and his brothers loved each other, they wouldn’t try to hurt, or kill each other. And his parents… well, they were too busy, and no doubt forgot all about this tunnel. No. There was something else going on. Perhaps one of his siblings or his parents told a trusted member of their guard about the tunnels, and it was one of them who’d actually dropped or left their gun during their patrol.
He would get to the bottom of things, just as soon as he made sure Leyah was safely in her room.
“Come on, miora ruĝa, let’s get you to your room,” he said to her, tucking the gun in his waistband and leading her toward the door that would lead into her closet. As he stepped into the room, the hair on the back of his neck rose. Someone was in Leyah’s room or had just been there. He could practically feel the presence of an intruder hanging in the air. He looked around the closet first, then the bedroom, under the bed, and in the sitting room, leaving the bathroom for last.
His eyes flashed to Leyah when he saw her shove the drawer of her dresser closed, now dressed in a new t-shirt. He shrugged, figuring she was attempting to hide the evidence of their elevator tryst from herself. Though why she wouldn’t simply throw the shirt away, he wouldn’t know. Something elusive prickled at his subconscious, but he couldn’t grasp it.
Women and their clothing, he thought to himself as he investigated every inch of Leyah’s bathroom. Finding no one, and no hint of a disturbance, Alastair tried to shake off the unsettling feeling that had gripped him when he stepped out of the tunnel. He returned to Leyah’s bedroom, taking in the sight of her sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes appearing troubled, biting her lower lip.
He strode over to her and sat next to her on the mattress. Alastair lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the palm, then each fingertip. He was aware of Leyah’s stuttered breathing, but he continued in his quest to calm her nerves. Licking patterns in the center of her palm, he stroked the fingers of his left hand from her hand to her elbow, over her stomach, and down to her knee, then back.
“You taste divine,” he told her, his lips resting against her wrist.
“A-Alas—” Leyah groaned.
He grinned at her. He loved how utterly responsive she was to his every touch, caress, and kiss. He wouldn’t get her stirred up again—okay, who was he kidding? His cock was still rock hard from their earlier tryst. He wouldn’t put himself in the position of unfulfilled desire, torturing himself, again—not when he was planning to save their ultimate lovemaking for the day they married. Two weeks. He could do two weeks. He was a man of self-control. Control in all aspects of his life. He could do it. He lowered her hand and stared at her, waiting for her eyes to open. Once Leyah’s eyes finally settle on him, he lifted a hand and caressed her jaw.
“Have a picnic with me,” he asked her. Leyah blinked at him then glanced away.
“Alastair—” her voice sounded filled with disappointment and it was something Alastair would not tolerate.
He leaned down and nipped at her shoulder. “Don’t say no. I will speak with Algerone and Valerie. I want to know more about you. Everything about you. And we only have two weeks before we are married. At which point you won’t be leaving our bedroom for about a month,” he informed her with a wicked grin.
Leyah’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “You were serious?” she asked incredulous.
“Deadly,” he told her with a firm tone. “In two weeks, we will be married before God, country, and my parents the king and queen of Malvidence. There will no longer be a difference in our positions, and I will be able to fuck you, kiss you, and eat that beautiful pussy whenever I want to without either of us needing to feel guilty.” Though he would admit—only to himself—that he never felt guilt after feeling Leyah shudder with orgasmic release beneath his lips, or around his fingers. It was actually a boon for him. But he wouldn’t tell his beautiful fiancée that. She was much too innocent for many of the things he wanted to do and say to her. But he would ease her into it. Leyah was simply too responsive, too addictive, too damn eager for him once they got started for him to do anything but give her all of him, bring her fully into his world and brand of loving.
Leyah shook her head again. “You cannot be serious. I am not sure how things are done in your country—in the palace—” Leyah stuttered a correction and Alastair stifled a chuckle. He would have to let her know he was aware that she and her cousin were Waldakan immigrants. Perhaps that was her other secret? That too seemed likely. No doubt she’d kept to herself in an effort to protect her cousin and herself. There were many Malvidencians who viewed Waldakans as thieves, criminals, terrorists due to their various attacks on Malvidence and their neighboring countries. Alastair, himself, was often annoyed and angered by the numerous stories and reports of Waldakans attacking his people. However, he knew it was not the entire country. And it certainly wasn’t Leyah and Danorian. They had no doubt left Waldakans with their parents and families to escape the violence there, for a better life. Alastair could hardly fault them for that.
“—receives a ring, which I don’t have,” Leyah finished and Alastair focused back in on her words.
He raised his eyebrows. Oh yeah, the ring. He had forgotten that, hadn’t he? No matter, he would set it all right, and fix that oversight at his earliest convenience. Leyah would have her engagement ring before the day was over.
“What size would you like?” he asked her.
Leyah’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. He leaned his head back and let out a roar of laughter at the sight of her shock. Still chuckling, he reached over and placed his fingers beneath her chin to close her mouth. When she narrowed her eyes at him, Alastair bent forward and kissed the tip of her nose, offering her a wink.
“Alastair,” Leyah huffed. “This is nothing to joke about. Y
ou can’t talk about marrying me. You’re the prince of Malvidence and I’m the pri—” she paused and bit her bottom lip. “I’m the princess of nothing. I’m just a nobody to your people. To you,” she finished, looking away in shame and anger, unlike anything he’d ever experienced slammed into Alastair’s stomach, exploding outward. He gripped her chin and turned her focus back to his face.
“You are not the princess of nothing, you are not nobody. Don’t let me ever hear you say anything that stupid again,” he snarled. He could feel his fingers tightening on her jaw. He was at once thankful that the bruises he was no doubt leaving wouldn’t be readily apparent on her skin, and ashamed that he’d had such a thought. It wouldn’t matter Leyah’s skin color, if he didn’t lessen his grip on her face, she would have bruises. Taking a deep breath, Alastair relaxed his hold, and stroked the pads of his fingers along her cheek.
“Don’t you get it by now?” he asked her softly, a lump lodging itself in his throat. He cleared his throat and smiled softly at Leyah when she looked at him in confusion. “You mean so much to me. You are important to me. My flame in the darkness. My tether to the world. You are the other half of my soul. You are my princess.”
Alastair wanted to look away when Leyah’s eyes filled with tears. He’d never been exactly comfortable with overt displays of emotion. He and his brothers were all like that. And a woman crying did something to him. Caused his stomach to rebel. But this was Leyah. His Leyah. His woman. He would not turn away when she showed him how she was feeling. No. He would be by her side and stick with her through it. Even if he had to give her his shirt to sob into.
“That was so sweet, Alastair,” Leyah sniffled.
Alastair shrugged in embarrassment. “Yeah. Well.” They sat in silence for a moment, then Alastair nodded. He had to get back to his day and he was sure Algerone and Valerie were wondering what had become of Leyah. He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and planted a kiss beneath it.
“So, will you have a picnic with me?”
Leyah opened and closed her mouth before nodding shyly. Alastair felt joy’s warmth infuse him, but he kept his face a mask of calm pleasure. He leaned forward and planted a deep kiss on her lips, careful to not let it go too far. He pulled away and winked at her once more.
“Good girl.”
Chapter Nineteen
L eyah kissed Alastair goodbye one final time, her heart thundering at his nearness, and her skin tingling from the graze of his fingers on her neck and hip. She moaned and pressed herself closer to his hard frame. Though she would deny it if asked, Leyah could admit—at least to herself—that she and Alastair appeared to fit together perfectly. He was hard where she was soft. The top of her head came to his cheek, making it so that Alastair didn’t have to lean down too far to kiss her. Her breasts had always seemed not too big, nor too small, for her frame. However, Leyah had been jealous of some of the women in Waldakan. The ones who walked and their breasts were so big and weighty that their tits bounced and swayed with each step they took. She was also envious of the women whose breasts were small enough to not have to wear a bra with their outfits if they didn’t want to. Leyah’s mother called them teacup breasts, and the larger ones were “baby feeders”, however her mother—who’d had a pair of baby feeders, herself—had told Leyah that if she stayed around the cup size she was when she fourteen, that she would have “perfect handfuls.” While Leyah had only increased another cup in the five years since she’d had that conversation with her mother, she was still happy to know she had handfuls. Especially when Alastair stared at them as if he’d found the Holy Grail.
She snorted as she closed the door behind him. No, he didn’t look at her breasts that way, he looked at her pussy like that. Her breasts, he looked at as if they were his favorite glass of… hmm, what was Alastair’s favorite drink? She’d seen him drink a variety of alcoholic beverages. From Scotch to bourbon to vodka to whiskey, if Leyah remembered correctly, she’d even seen Alastair drink tequila straight without hesitation. As she thought of the handsome prince, she grinned widely and spun around in the middle of her sitting room with her arms outstretched, giggling like a little school girl. She was getting married! Granted, it was to a prince of Malvidence, but Leyah could admit that she really liked Alastair. She’d gone back and forth over her feelings for him, her affection for his family, and her anger and hatred of Malvidence, its people, and its monarchs that she gave herself whiplash.
Leyah wanted to honor her parents, her people, her ancestors… but her heart was fully engaged now, and was she supposed to simply ignore her heart. Deny herself this one chance to have something… memorable. Life-changing? Meaningful? She believed that she could come up with a solution that gave both Waldakan and Malvidence a win. Something that saw the Waldakans returned to their homeland, but did not depose the current royals, or saw them hurt… or worse.
“I see you are happy,” a deep voice said behind her and Leyah squeaked out a sound of surprise, turning around to face him.
Her lip curled up in disgust in an unconscious manner. She still wasn’t sure why Danorian had thought to send him to Malvidence to not only train to become a guard like Danorian, but to also infiltrate and plan attacks on various members of the guard and the people of Malvidence. Thinking about the way Alastair and his brother Algerone had seemed tense earlier, Leyah narrowed her eyes at the man standing in front of her, arms folded across his chest, his eyebrow quirked while he gave her a sardonic smile. She marched towards him and poked him in the chest.
“Did you have something to do with the missing guards?” she hissed out in a whisper.
He didn’t answer, merely shrugged a shoulder at her. The twinkle of delight that shone in his eyes gave her all the answer she needed. Leyah gasped and covered her mouth before dropping her hand from her lips and placing it in a fist on her hip.
“What. The. Fuck did you do?” she asked, switching to Waldakan flawlessly.
“I did what you are too afraid to do, Princess Aa’Leyah. Or perhaps something you are unwilling to do now that you have become ensnared by Prince Alastair. I crippled their security. I removed them from the equation, and now, Danorian and I? We can hire and instate some of our own people right here on the palace grounds and in the palace. They will be poised, ripe, and ready to strike when the time comes,” he told her with absolutely no inflection in his voice. The lack of concern, the absence of life in his tone, the way his eyes seemed to burn with darkness caused Leyah to shiver. She shook her head.
“No. I want you to cease and desist this at once. There must be another way. I’ve figured that out. Our people will return to their land, but we will do it diplomatically, not through violence and terror. I cannot believe Danorian would sign off on this ridiculous plan, but I, as your Princess and future Queen am ordering you to stop,” she commanded, trembling internally.
He stepped close to her and growled at her angrily. “You can only hold onto that title for so much longer, Your Highness,” he told her. “Soon you will either have to abdicate the throne, so you can marry your prince, yet stay here, or you will have to tell your loving, caring, and understanding Malvidencian prince who you really are. And that sort of action will have you thrown in jail, if not executed. So, if I were you…”
Before Leyah could blink or react in order to defend herself, his hand shot out and his fingers curled around her neck, choking her. Leyah’s eyes widened for a minute as she stared at him in surprise. It was only when he shoved her backwards until she tumbled onto the couch behind her, his body coming down on top of hers that she finally realized what he planned to do to her. The realization was sobering, sick, and it infuriated her.
Remembering everything she’d been taught by Danorian, her father, and even the small bit she’d learned from watching Alastair scrap to wrestle with the new soldiers, Leyah allowed her body to go limp. Once his grasp lessened, she brought her hand into his nose, causing him to fall back in pain. Balling up her fist, she punched his chest, ove
r by his left pectoral. She wasn’t planning on actually killing him by stopping his heart with a punch to the chest. She simply wanted him to… reevaluate his life choices.
When he fell to the ground, Leyah rose from the couch and straddled his stomach as he pointed at his chest and mouth.
“Oh,” she taunted him. “Are you having trouble breathing? Is your heart not cooperating with you? Maybe you need some help?” She landed another punch to his face without impunity, only stopping when she heard what sounded like a knock on her suite door. She rose and held her breath, aware of him rising to his feet behind her.
Another knock came to the door and fear pulsated through Leyah. Was it Alastair coming back? She hoped not, because she wasn't sure how to explain his presence in her suite just moments after the prince left. She rushed over to the wooden door and intercepted him before he could open it. Danorian stood on the other side, a look of extreme disappointment darkening his gaze.
"I just saw Prince Alastair leaving your quarters," he stated before striding past her. Leyah swallowed her disappointment and rage at being questioned by the guard. She shut the door soundly then turned to face the two older men who stood in the middle of her sitting room, eyes narrowed on her as if she'd done something wrong. She folded her arms and glared back at them.
"Why was his Highness in your room for so long?" Danorian asked.
Leyah sighed and shook her head. "I have no reason to answer to you, Lord Danorian," she told him. "You would be wise to remember who exactly the ruler is here and who serves her," she cautioned as she breezed past both men and took a seat on the armchair, her face a blank mask of apathy. Why were they here? There was no just cause for them to bombard her with questions, or to interrogate her when her actions were her own, and by the mere authority of her position, her right.
"Mexoria Źeylήia, you mistake my concern with scorn," Danorian stated as he came over to perch himself on the edge of the sofa nearest her. "We must be cautious in our actions and our conversations. The palace is on edge with the missing guards, and the attack on the princes. We do not want any unnecessary attention focused in our direction."