The Prince's Wing

by Amber R. Duell

  Her hand felt so good against me. So damn good. My head fell back, eyes closed, and she stroked me. Bringing me closer and closer. “Stop,” I growled just before I could come all over her. There would be no hiding the stain on her gown.

  “But—”

  I dropped to my knees in front of her and lifted her skirts again, sliding a hand beneath. The moment my fingers brushed against the wet heat there, her hips jerked. “Look at me,” I told her. “I want to watch you fall apart.”

  Her eyes locked on mine and I slid two fingers across her soaked entrance. Then inside. Her warm walls squeezed my fingers and I felt it all the way to my cock. Fuck. I couldn’t let it go that far. Things had already gone—

  “Saer,” she urged, shifting to ride my fingers. “Don’t stop.”

  I pressed my thumb against the bundle of nerves and rubbed in circles as I eased my fingers farther. Pumped her with them until I felt her quiver. I wanted to look down, to see myself inside her, but I wanted to see her expression more.

  Her breathing picked up and she lifted herself to meet my fingers. I quickly placed my free hand over her mouth. Not a moment too soon either. A muffled cry of pleasure filled the bathroom as her walls gripped me. Her eyes shut then, hiding what I wanted most, but my cock throbbed so badly with need that I couldn’t see straight.

  My strokes slowed as her release came to an end and I pulled away. With the same fingers that had just been inside her, I grabbed my cock and pumped, hard and fast. Pleasure built with every stroke. I pictured myself inside her, her legs wrapped around my hips, her back arching, my name on her lips as I buried myself deep. Fuck. I exploded hard all over the tile with a low groan.

  I rested my head on Anais’ knee, utterly spent, and waited for the aftershocks to fade. Once I could speak again, I stood, tucking myself back in my pants. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said, voice wobbling.

  My gaze snapped to hers immediately. She didn’t sound okay. “What’s wrong?” I took her hands and pulled her to her feet, guiding her around the mess I made. “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean—”

  “No. I’m fine, really.”

  I took her face between my hands. “You’re lying. Tell me.”

  “I… I wish things were different, is all.” She pushed my hands away and turned to examine one of the plants. I opened my mouth to ask again what happened but she drew a sharp breath. “I should leave.”

  Panic banded my chest. “Please—”

  “Please what?” she asked when I choked on the rest of my words.

  Please don’t hate me. Don’t be afraid of me. Don’t push me away. Though she should do all three. She was going to marry Bastian, unless I revealed her secret. But that would be worse than watching her with my best friend. “I’m sorry.” I swallowed hard. “About what we just did. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I only wanted to ask you what the duchess knew, but I can’t stop wanting you.”

  Her fingers touched my lips to silence me. “You have to. We have to. There is already a blade dangling over my neck, but if anyone found out about this…”

  “I have tried. Do you think I want to betray Bastian like this? He’s all I have in this world, but it’s impossible to get you out of my head.” I brushed a loosened lock of hair from my face and held back a frustrated scream. The gods hated me, but I couldn’t let them win. Everything would be fine—because Anais would be gone soon enough. “I’m going to get you out of here. It’s not too late.”

  She drew in a sharp breath. “I can’t leave. My family—”

  “I’ll take care of them,” I promised. Though I didn’t know how. “You can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous.” Between the Asters, her fake countess mother, her true identity, and this, it was only a matter of time before her fate was sealed.

  “And what about you?” Her eyes narrowed. “You know all my secrets, but what of yours? Do I not get to hear them?”

  The only sound was my pulse as I considered revealing everything. My whole, sordid truth. But I’d seen the toughest men break during interrogation. She wouldn’t stand a chance against the masochists employed by the king, and I wouldn’t risk myself. “I can’t tell you. Not yet.” Maybe one day, if she was safe, and if Bastian was king. He could change the laws. Allow me a family of my own. But for that to work, the Asters would need to crumble.

  “Then how can I trust you?” she asked, matter-of-factly. “You asked if I was afraid of you? I’m not. At least, not how you think. I’m afraid you’re not real.”

  “Not real?” I asked in confusion.

  She sighed. “You’re the only one here who can hurt me. I don’t mean what will happen if anyone finds out I’m not the countess’ daughter, but I mean right now, the way things stand. If the prince hates me, I can live with that. It’s fine if the court ridicules me and the governors object to my presence. But you? I care what you think about me. And that means, if all of this is a lie to find out more information—information I don’t have—it won’t be fine. I won’t be.”

  I furrowed my brow. What was she talking about? Did she think I was using her for information about the countess? There would be easier, less treasonous ways of doing that. “Fuck information. Do you think I would hurt my only friend like this if there wasn’t something real between us? I hate myself for it, but I’ve never felt like this before. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you know.” I stepped toward her and, when she didn’t back away, pulled her into an embrace. “Please understand. I can’t risk more than I’m already giving you. And, I know we will have to give up on us because you’ll either marry Bastian or I’ll succeed in getting you far away from here. Know that I am real, though. To you more than anyone else.”

  Anais wrapped her arms around my torso and sniffled. She said nothing, but she didn’t need to. Holding her was enough. But as the minutes stretched on, as we both calmed the other, reality slipped back in. The duchess would be looking for her soon, and I had to wait for the prince to leave the Main Palace.

  “Go,” I urged, placing a kiss on top of her head. “Return to your room, crawl into bed, and summon a lady’s maid. Feign illness or Fransabelle will demand an excuse for how long you’ve taken.”

  She nodded. “What about you?”

  “I’ll clean up in here and leave, unseen.”

  She hesitated before going, but once she had left the room, I grabbed a towel to wipe the floor. Once the evidence was gone, I knelt there a little longer, trying to stuff the nauseous guilt back into its cage.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Fine mist floated above the pathway as Bastian led the way to the Main Palace. He shrugged his dark blue jacket on as he walked, his rumpled head-servant following behind with his scabbard.

  I followed, still fastening my own weapons on, unsure if this crack-of-dawn wakeup was due to an intruder. If that were the case, walking the main paths was incredibly foolish. “Give me that,” I told the servant, and took Bastian’s sword from him. “Bast, what’s going on?”

  “My father called an emergency meeting about the new governor.” He finished his last button and reached for his scabbard. “He’s anxious to fill the position and move on.”

  With both hands now free, I gathered my hair into a bun at the nape of my neck. But with this much urgency? They’d barely given us time to dress, and Bastian’s crown was braided onto his head with so much haste that it was slightly crooked.

  “And—” he slowed his steps slightly “—there’s supposed to be an announcement about the wedding.”

  I stiffened. The wedding. I hadn’t found out what the Asters’ plan for that was yet. Why Anais was pretending to be the countess’ daughter and what she was meant to do. She wasn’t aware of the particulars, but she would be eventually. At the same time they threatened to expose her secret if she didn’t murder Bastian in his sleep.

  “She’s been well?” the prince asked for what felt like the millionth time since he’d told me to spend time with her. “I shoul
dn’t be concerned?”

  The sound of her moans in the bathroom filled my head and I winced. How was I this much of an asshole? “Concerned about what?”

  “You know.” Bastian shrugged. “We’ll get along, won’t we?”

  I wanted so badly to say no. To tell him she was awful and that he would hate her. But it would be a lie. “Yes.”

  “You’ll see her again today?” the prince pressed.

  I opened my mouth to say no, but what would I give as a reason? That I needed to spend the morning figuring out how to get Anais as far from the palace and Ora Et as possible? I didn’t want to add to the betrayal with another lie, but if I saw her again… No. There could be no repeat of yesterday.

  “If you’d like me to,” I answered.

  “Please.” The prince paused outside the entrance to the Main Palace. “And… and tell her that I look forward to seeing her again.”

  I swallowed hard. “I will.”

  Bastian smiled warmly and stepped away, toward the gate. “Wish me luck.”

  Good luck. We’d both need it.

  ✽✽✽

  The duchess was alone when I entered the Women’s Palace. A velvet couch had been added to the main room where we’d danced the day before. A small table and two matching chairs across from it, and Fransabelle sat, prim and proper, in one of them. Today, her deep red mourning gown stretched up her neck and fanned out just below her chin. I approached slowly so as not to startle her as she stared at nothing. When I was nearly at her side, the duchess blinked.

  “You’re back,” she said stoically.

  I nodded. “The prince asked me to deliver a message.”

  “Did he?” She huffed. “Sit. I need to talk to you.”

  I perched uncomfortably on the edge of the second chair.

  “I’ve seen the way you look at each other,” the duchess said bluntly. “Be careful, Wing.”

  Heat flashed through my body. She didn’t need to elaborate—it was clear what she meant. Me and Anais. I counted myself lucky that looking was all she accused me of.

  “I don’t know what you mean, Duchess.”

  She leveled a stare in my direction. “You do.”

  “Duchess, I—”

  “I’ve lived for a long, long time so save your breath. You’re loyal to the prince, but that won’t stop the rumors from spreading. People will see the same thing I do. What will the king do then? If he suspects you’re even thinking inappropriately about the future queen, he’ll have your head.”

  “I’m Bastian’s only Wing,” I reasoned. “He needs me.”

  “Does he? With you gone, King Edric won’t have to worry about his son stealing his crown,” she said in a lowered voice.

  Bastian didn’t want to steal the crown. He didn’t need to steal it—it would be his when the king died. But, without a Wing, the king’s only heir might not live long enough to inherit anything. “Bastian is his son.”

  “He can always sire more children,” she reminded me. “All he needs is a wife young enough, and he won’t have trouble finding one.”

  “Even King Edric isn’t that uncaring,” I mumbled, knowing it was a lie. He was ruthless and paranoid. The duchess was right. Any number of women would kill to become queen and birth royal children. History was full of women who poisoned or maimed their way onto the throne.

  Fransabelle sighed. “Do what you will with my warning.”

  “Duchess,” came a low female voice. A heavy woman stood in the doorway leading farther into the palace. Scissors poked out of the apron tied at her waist and a long blue ribbon was draped around her shoulders. “Would you like to see the gown?”

  “Of course, I want to see it,” she snapped. Then, quieter, to me, “What does she think I’m here for? As if the countess bothered to tell her daughter what was needed from an engagement gown.”

  The soft tinkling of gems preceded Anais’ appearance. My heart skipped at the sound, then stopped all together when she stepped into the room. A deep blue gown hugged her torso and flared slightly away from her hips, the fabric cascading down into a short train. Diamonds swirled over the bodice before spreading evenly across the skirts. Strands of the precious stones wrapped around her neck to form a collar, longer ones reaching to swoop over her arms, the longest nearly reaching her elbow. Her hair was pinned haphazardly, likely to get it out of the way for the dressmaker, but the jumbled look with the ball gown hit me like a bolt.

  The duchess smacked my shin with her cane before telling Anais, “Turn.”

  Anais carefully avoided looking at me as she spun slowly. A single strand of diamonds fell straight down her bare spine and ended with a larger teardrop stone at the end.

  “It will do,” the duchess finally said.

  The dressmaker bowed and ushered Anais back through the door.

  “That look,” she hissed at me. “Give me the prince’s message and leave. I don’t have time for this today.”

  I cleared my throat and told her that the prince looked forward to seeing Karina again. Then, without another word, I fled the palace and the discerning duchess. My hands shook, my gut churning, as I retreated into the gardens to clear my head. To silence the roar in my ears and the cracking of my heart.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The official engagement announcement of Prince Bastian Alexander Drystan, Duke of Pegia, Lord of the Vargyn Mountains and Lady Karina of House Thiselles felt heavy in my hand. It had been written by expert calligraphers and embellished with gold leaf. Fitting for a royal wedding, especially the first of the new monarchy. Every noble family would receive one and, after the rumors spread, it would be confirmed to the citizens of Eradrist. The entire country would know before the ball, breaking tradition, but that wasn’t what concerned me.

  If I was going to get Anais out, it had to be now. She was too beautiful for every noble to forget her face. The governors at a dimly-lit dinner, happily sipping on wine, were enough of a risk, but all of Eradrist was impossible.

  But I still had no idea how to do that safely for both of us. Now that the announcements had gone out, there would be professionals coming to plan the rest of the wedding. Florists, chefs, seamstresses, musicians. The ceremony would take place in the spring which left only four months to prepare a wedding gown, cake, and whatever else was involved in a wedding. Which meant Anais would be constantly surrounded.

  A thousand new faces, a thousand potential assassins.

  Heat flashed through my body at the thought of her in mortal danger. I couldn’t protect her and Bastian at the same time, and he still refused to visit to the Women’s Palace. Nerves was the only reason I could come up with. But now I was the one that had to worry. More so than usual. An image of her in a pool of blood rose, unbidden, to the front of my mind, but I pushed it away, replacing it with the moment she fell through the hedge wall. How she’d felt in my arms when I caught her. The first whiff of wildflowers. Still, my hands began to sweat where I clutched the engagement announcement.

  “Are you going to stare at that all day?” the prince asked, turning a page of a book while sitting in his favorite chair.

  I flicked the announcement at him, hitting his ear. “That depends. Are you going to read all day?”

  Bastian had seemed to earn himself some free time now that the engagement was settled with the governors. The king had resumed some of the duties he’d passed to Bastian, claiming the prince had learned them well enough. A shit excuse for not wanting his own son to become overly influential.

  His cheeks turned pink. “One of the maids told me this is Lady Karina’s favorite novel. I want to finish it today so we can talk about it when I visit tomorrow.”

  “Favorite novel?” I snorted, knowing full well it was my jealousy speaking. That he knew something about Anais that I didn’t, even though I alone knew her real name. “I wasn’t aware she read for enjoyment.”

  Bastian quirked a brow at me. “Why wouldn’t she?”

  Because she looked miserable in the
library. The material the duchess forced on her wasn’t exactly fun though. I shrugged and turned my attention to the window. The sky was gray and miserable, the most relatable sort of weather. Who could I trust to help get Anais away from the capital? I could only take her so far myself without being obvious, and the Asters made damn sure that I trusted no one.

  “A tailor is coming tomorrow, by the way,” Bastian said, flipping a page. “We’re both being fitted for the ball.”

  My eyes snapped to his. “I don’t need anything.”

  He snorted. “Your arms nearly popped the seams of your uniform at dinner with the governors.”

  Relentless training was to blame for that, but I still didn’t want a new uniform. I didn’t want anything from Bastian or the crown, unless it was my freedom. Or Anais’.

  “He’ll likely fit us for the wedding while he’s here too.”

  My heart twisted in my chest. The wedding. There would be no fucking wedding if I could help it.

  “What’s that face for?” Bastian asked.

  I relaxed my brows and turned to the window again. “Seems strange to think you’ll be married.”

  He laughed. “Strange, yes, not in a bad way.”

  ✽✽✽

  That night, after Bastian fell asleep with the book over his face, I snuck into Anais’ chambers. I shouldn’t have. It was reckless and unnecessary and completely out of my control. If I paced my personal room any longer, I would’ve gone crazy.

  She slept on her side, half-hugging a pillow, with her braided hair curling over her neck. I wanted to kiss her awake, swallow the shocked sound that would surely escape her, but somehow, I gathered enough willpower not to. As gently as possible, I placed a hand over her mouth instead. She jolted awake, and I pressed against her a little harder as she began to flail, clawing at my bracer to no avail.

  “Shh,” I urged. “It’s me.”

  Anais paused, her hands still clutching my arm, and made an inquisitive, muffled sound. Slowly, I lifted my hand and stepped back. I rubbed my hand on my pants in an attempt to erase the feel of her warm breath.