by Vivian Wood
“I need to eat breakfast, then I’d like to relax, enjoy the festival before the ceremony. There’s also something else I need to do.”
Matheas’s face grows serious. “Stay away from him, Fi.”
“No, I’m going to get face-to-face with him. Don’t intervene unless he tries to rape me or kill me. That’s an order.”
Through clenched teeth, his head cocks, frustration seething in his eyes.
“Fi…”
“An order,” I repeat.
Gathering fresh clothes, I put them on. Matheas stalks to the door of the chamber room. Outside of it, I hear him barking orders at the security staff.
Exiting the healing chamber, Matheas stares at me, his eyes full of so much he wants to say, but he knows the badgering won’t change my mind.
“Have him brought to the horse stables after breakfast.”
Beneath me is a temporary sensation of freedom. Hooves pounding the ground, Artax gallops around the exercise ring. Ahead of us, I see Prince Belore being escorted by several Anaukin arms men. Closest to Belore are his own protective soldiers. Changing our direction, I lead Artax back to the stables. Bringing him to a stop, I hand the reins to our stableman.
“Princess Fiora, it’s a pleasure to see you this morning.” Belore approaches, taking my hand to his lips. “You clearly know what you’re doing when it comes to riding a stallion.”
With his added smirk, the sexual connotation isn’t missed by me.
“It takes a special bond. I won’t ride just any stallion.”
Matheas’s lips quirk from where he stands behind Belore.
“Walk with me,” I request.
Belore places his hand at my back, putting my body in a state of unease. It’s not that this man is unattractive. With his raven hair, dark emerald eyes, strong jaw, and muscular frame, he can easily seduce women. It’s the feeling he gives me deep in my gut—a sensation I would never be safe with him, never be loved, respected and appreciated like Matheas does.
Leading him into the stables, we stroll past several stalls and come out the other side where one of my stablemen is training an Anaukin yearling. With tenderness, he’s teaching her to trust him and to obey him with that trust.
“What do you see when you look at that thoroughbred?”
His cool eyes observe the horse and trainer.
“A well-bred mare that needs broken.”
Leaning against the barn door, I fold my arms over my chest.
“There’s the difference between you and me. What I see is a mare if given respect, care, and love, she’ll become loyal and be a valuable asset. It’s important you understand, Belore, I’m not a woman who can be broken and taught to be submissive. Nor am I a challenge to claim and use to fulfill your fantasies. I’m a ruler. A ruler of a territory that is strong, beautiful, and prosperous. I believe if I were to give myself and my territory to you, it would be the worst choice for my people and for me. This is the last time there will be talk of marriage between you and me.”
Eyes menacing, he turns to me, looming closer. Backstepping, the stall wall greets my back. Coming in close, he tilts his head as if he’s saying something private for just him and me. Touching his hand between my legs, he applies intense pressure, causing me to whimper from the pain.
“All it would take is for me to tear your hymen and you’d go from the pure Princess of Anauka to a sullied whore without a crown. At that point, no one would want you, but I’d still take you. No longer as my Queen, but as my mistress to punish and force into painful acts of intimacy. Think about that, Princess.” Releasing me, he puts his hand behind my head, fists my hair and tugs, baring my neck to him. “You can either become mine willingly, or I can take you by force, but either way, you will be mine and so will your territory.” Running his tongue along the column of my neck, he tsks against my ear. “The conversation of marriage is definitely not over.”
With my skin crawling and my gut twisted in disgust, I shove my knee into his groin. Belore buckles over, growling deep from his chest, his expression livid.
“You’re far too used to women cowering before you. Hurting Ria was your first mistake. Touching me was your second. Threatening me and my territory was your final error. I’ll never be yours.” Spitting next to his feet, I shout. “Matheas!”
Beyond the stables, every Anaukin arms man sprints to me, including Belore’s men. Standing straight, Belore squares his shoulders. Never taking my eyes from his cold emeralds, I give my order.
“Detain Prince Belore and his men until I’ve had time to meet with King Gregory and King Beckett.”
Around us, my arms men raise their laser guns and point them at Belore’s men. Matheas grabs Belore’s arm. Belore shakes it off, his gaze deadly.
“Don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be,” Matheas warns.
With a click of his tongue, he sweeps his gaze over his men. “Comply,” he orders them.
They take their hands off their own guns and follow Belore as he’s lead away.
Matheas remains as Demerick leads the Anaukin arms men.
“Did he hurt you?”
“Yes, and that will be the last time. Call my father. Arrange a meeting, now. Our hospitality to the Iowans has run out.”
In my father’s sitting room, I find him and King Beckett in leather chairs, drinking ale. Arriving, they both stand. My father with his graying brown hair and cerulean blue eyes that look weathered and tired. I know my night in the healing chamber likely gave him a difficult night sleep, but it’s not just that. In his eyes, I see the weight of our entire territory’s future is exhausting him.
Looking King Beckett over, he’s visibly the opposite. With his raven black hair, sharp intelligent green eyes, and tanned skin, he appears well rested, not a worry in the world.
“Father, King Beckett,” I greet.
King Beckett tips his head, studying me, head to toe.
“You’re quite the woman. Your trials have been exceptional to watch.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“What did you call this meeting for?” my father asks, concern tickling his voice.
Standing in front of my father and King Beckett, I explain the altercation between Belore and me.
“With Prince Belore’s actions, I must make myself clear. I will not be accepting his proposal or any proposal in the future. I respect you greatly, King Beckett, but unfortunately, your son and I are not a suitable match.”
“Where’s my son now?” His tone is sharp, unnerving.
“Being detained in his chamber with his arms men,” I reply calmly, ensuring to only show my confidence.
My father steps in, taking over.
“With the trials having come to an end, perhaps it’s best your visit end as well. You and I both know I could arrest Belore for his actions, but I don’t feel there needs to be any animosity between us. Our territories should not suffer at the expense of a passionate discussion between two future rulers.”
King Beckett’s gaze switches between me and my father. With a twitch of his lip, he takes a breath.
“It’s an unfortunate set of circumstances we’ve come to, King Gregory. We’ll take our leave, but I can’t promise future conversations between us will be amicable.”
Setting his glass of ale down on the tray next to the chair he occupied, he nods farewell to us.
“Princess, King Gregory.”
With his boots pounding the floor, he leaves the sitting room. My father presses the button on his soul band after the sliding door closes behind him.
“Escort the Iowans to their rover craft. Ensure they leave immediately.”
—MATHEAS—
Disconnecting with Sederick, I’ve been given the word King Beckett is on his way out of the palace. Stepping inside Belore’s guest room, I find him standing at the large window overlooking Anauka. Even with only seeing his side profile, it’s obvious to me the man’s plotting.
Standing next to him, I look
out the window, observing the rover crafts as they fly over the mountains and river beyond the palace. To the left is the festival with its many colored tents, filled with the people of Anauka, enjoying their meals, shopping, and entertainment. To the right is Queen Melinda’s expansive garden with rows of blossoms.
“Did the Princess run to Daddy?” Belore mocks.
“The Princess made it clear you’re no longer welcome. I’m to have you escorted to your rover craft.”
“She has spirit.” Turning to face me, his smirk is devious. “I’ll enjoy breaking it.”
Moving away, he proceeds to leave. Placing my hand firmly at his chest, I stop him.
“You ever try to touch her again and I’ll slit your throat. My blade won’t care that you’re a Prince.”
With an over exaggerated humph, he meets my gaze.
“We’ll see about that.”
Continuing to walk away, I speak to his back.
“I promised the Princess I would do something for her.”
Belore stops, rotating on his heels, looking at me with interest.
“Guns,” I order my arms men.
Raising their weapons, they point them at Belore’s men.
“What are you doing, Matheas?”
“Sending a message.”
With swift steps, I remove the space between us and slam my fist into his jaw. The surprise knocks him back a few steps, but he quickly rebounds, a grin smeared across his face.
“I’m going to enjoy this.”
We both face off, he swings, hits my cheek, but I take it without complaint. Slamming my fist into his stomach, he takes the hit, moving back a step, then comes back swinging. Coming for my ribs, I block his fist and punch at his face, hitting him in the nose. Blood dribbles out, but he doesn’t care. Stepping, he swings, I dodge, and he clips my shoulder. Putting more force into my swing, I slam into his gut, and he coughs, then sucks in air. Dropping to one knee, he collects his breath. Putting my hand on his shoulder, I squeeze into the tender flesh, forcing a grimace.
“The Princess sends her regards.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FIORA
Matheas enters my room as Ria is finishing the last loose curl of my hair. Standing behind me, his gaze meets mine in the mirror. Right away, I notice the discoloration on his cheek. The sight of it pains me.
“Are they gone?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hurt him?”
“I left him with a lasting memory.”
Ria briefly glances at me in the mirror, the corner of her mouth curving ever so slightly.
“Good. Thank you, Ria. Can you please excuse us?”
“Of course, Princess.”
With her small feet padding the floor, she promptly leaves the room. As the door slides shut, Matheas steps up to me, gathers my hair in his hand, and moves it to my left shoulder. The brush of his hand over my skin sends pleasurable waves of arousal straight to my core. Leaning down, he places a tender kiss in the crevice of my shoulder and neck.
“You smell as incredible as you look.”
Rising from the chair, the long, silk ceremonial gown sweeps the floor. With my chin between his two fingers, he brings me to his lips. Brushing his thumb across my bottom lip, his eyes give away every dirty detail in his mind. Taking his thumb into my mouth, I suck, flirting with his desire.
“I want you back here on that bed as soon as the splendor ball is over.”
“You’ll have me,” I promise.
Caressing my cheek, he moves his hand into my hair, feeling the touch of my loose curls. Deep in his cerulean blues is the look of a man carrying the weight of something troubling.
“What are you thinking?”
“That we likely haven’t seen the last of Belore. He’s set his sights on you, and he’s a man determined to get what he wants.”
“I’ll meet with my father. Discuss our options.”
“First thing tomorrow,” Matheas insists.
“I will.”
Putting his head to mine, he caresses up and down my bare arms, warming me with his touch.
“It’s time for me to escort you to the splendor ceremony.”
Taking his face in my hands, I kiss him slowly, putting the passion I feel for him into every movement of my lips.
“Let them look. It’s only an hour my body is theirs to view while you will have me a lifetime.”
Bringing me forward, he kisses my forehead.
“I love you.”
Putting out his arm, I loop my hand through it. Leading me downstairs, several staff members stop what they’re doing to watch us with fascination. Perhaps it’s the evening events, the amount of effort put into how I look, or the way Matheas and I exchange glances as we descend the stairs.
Ahead of us, the ballroom door slides open. Matheas stays by my side, bringing me to the center of the ballroom. Around us, there are white linen-covered tables with beautiful centerpieces with an array of candles. The lighting is dim and the decorations elegant. Before the splendor ceremony commences, the ballroom will be the place for hors d’oeuvres, drinking, and dancing for the Royal families.
Riorrick is the first to approach me, an extra wine glass in his hand.
“Princess Fiora,” Outstretching his arm, he delivers the second glass to me. “I’m relieved to see you’re feeling better and more gorgeous than ever.”
“Thank you, Riorrick. You were correct. Your trial was the most challenging trial of all.”
With flushed cheeks, he stares back at me speechless.
“I appreciate the effort you put into it,” I add, helping him through his struggle for words.
Relief fills his eyes.
“Thank you, Princess. May I have a dance?”
“Of course.”
Matheas, having released me the moment Riorrick approached, is now by the front door, speaking with Demerick. Watching me in his periphery, he keeps a close eye. Taking the glass from my hand, Riorrick sets it on a nearby table. Returning to me, he cups my hand and places his other at my lower back. With the music playing softly in the background, he leads me into the traditional Anaukin dance, gently guiding me around the dance floor.
“I apologize the trial of our House was so dangerous. My father insisted we come up with something risky and challenging. Something that would impress the Anaukin people and you.”
“I have no doubt you exceeded everyone’s expectations.”
“I regret you were hurt.”
“I’m fine now, and that’s what matters.”
Above his dotted cheeks, his cerulean blue eyes look at me with admiration.
“I heard the news the Iowans were sent home. That you refused the proposal of Prince Belore.”
“It’s true.”
“May I ask why?”
“Our points of view do not align. He’s a tyrant and would not be a good choice for Anauka or for me.”
“I’m pleased to hear you say that. I was concerned you might be receptive of the proposal with what he can offer you—protection, combined territories, a powerful status as a Prince.”
“Status and power are subjects that don’t matter to me, and I have all the protection I need here in Anauka.”
“What are you looking for in a King?”
“Loyalty, strength, and the ability to love me as much as Anauka if not more.”
“I hope you’ll find all of that in me, Princess.”
Coming to the end of our dance, Riorrick leans forward, tenderly kissing my cheek.
“Thank you for the dance.”
“My pleasure.”
Luther approaches, and Riorrick nods respectfully, giving Luther the chance to ask me to dance. Taking my hand, Luther kisses it.
“Will you do me the honor?”
“Of course.”
Taller than Riorrick, Luther’s height has me looking up at him. With a finger slipped under my chin, he raises it, kissing my cheek.
“You look beautiful this evening.
”
Holding me closer than Riorrick had, he guides me around the floor, eyes locked on mine with his ardent gaze.
“Are you always this smooth? Everything about you feels too calculated.”
Luther laughs, and it sounds genuine.
“With you, everything is easy. It feels fluid and natural.”
“So far, this is true. Tell me something about you, Luther. Something that’s real.”
Holding my hand, he applies pressure to my hip, directing me outward into a spin. Pulling me back, he brings me even closer to his hard chest.
“I love music. Listening to it, playing instruments, even dancing to it.”
Holding my hand, he spins me twice. With a heightened breath, I’m pulled back to his waiting arms. Looking down at me with fire in his eyes, he caresses up my side. My body responds, tingling from his touch.
“Music makes me feel alive.” Angling his head down, he’s close enough to kiss me. “What makes you feel alive?”
“Riding and racing. It’s freeing.”
“I have horses back home on my estate. We’ll go riding if you’ll promise me one thing.”
“And that is?”
“You’ll dance with me alone, no other eyes watching.”
Another spin, I’m brought back to him, and he leans down and kisses me, his lips warm and soft, his tongue like a smooth liquor gliding over mine. Cheeks flushed, I stare up at him, surprised at his boldness.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
“I do like the sound of that word coming from your mouth.”
Putting my arms around his neck, I whisper in his ear.
“I think you’re far more wicked than you let on.”
Holding me against him, he whispers back.
“I am.”
The touch of Matheas’s strong hand caresses my back, drawing a pleasured breath from my lips. Both men have a hold on my body, their gazes meeting one another’s.
“You’ll have to let her go, Luther. It’s time I take her.”
With his wayward gaze, Luther’s mouth tilts sideways.
“I’m willing to share her…for now.”
Looking down at me, his smile transitions, becoming affectionate.