Queen of Savon

by Tricia Andersen

  During the day, he and Cassandra were separated to perform the duties of their positions. He met with lords, tracked Gorgon's movements, and inspected new horses that were brought to the palace. She was distracted with the entertaining of the ladies, the duties of the household, and the preparations for their son. Their only time together during the daylight hours was when they held court, and then only a chaste kiss could be exchanged.

  But at night, when the sun set, Matthew sent the servants away, taking Cassandra captive into their bedchamber. They would stand on the balcony and watch the sky grow in brilliant colors into night. Cassandra would listen with rapt attention to the events of Matthew’s day, interjecting the appropriate oh and ah when needed.

  She would only relate a word or two of her day before he would devour her lips with his, his desire for her overcoming him. She never protested, surrendering and following as he shut the balcony doors and led her to the bed.

  Matthew touched her swollen belly, feeling his son rise up to meet him from under her skin. As delicate as Cassandra was, he worried that he should not make love to her so often. But their love was so new, and her body so soft, he succumbed to temptation by gently loving her, anticipating in his urgent need to hear her cry out, to feel her shudder as his own rush cascaded over him.

  Matthew caressed her hair as he watched her sleep. She was so perfect. Gazing at her brought visions of their children into his mind—of a palace full of pattering infant feet. He barely felt past childhood himself. Now, he welcomed his duty as husband and father with open arms. She and the babes she would bear him were all that he needed. Nothing else mattered to him now.

  His smile faded. Reports of Gorgon and his army had reached Matthew, but he had heard very little about Victor. He was unsure where his former best friend was or what he was doing. He was the part of the army that was never reported.

  A smug grin reappeared on his face. Victor had warned Matthew to keep his hands off Victor’s bride. The monarch glanced at the slumbering, naked woman cradled against him. It looks like you were speaking of my bride, Victor. Not yours.

  Cassandra startled, softly moaning as she held him tighter. He smiled. “Is it morning?” she yawned.

  “Aye, love. It is.”

  Cassandra groaned again, burying her face against his chest. “Do we have to get up?”

  “Soon.”

  “Let us stay in bed. They will not miss us today.”

  Matthew laughed. “You know we cannot do that. Besides, you are being presented to the kingdom in Sebrone today.”

  Cassandra raised her head, glaring at him sleepily. “There is too much pomp in this, you know. I agreed to love you, not to be paraded as a show horse.”

  He smiled as he kissed Cassandra’s forehead. Oh, Cassa, if you knew how much I agree with you. Laying her head on his shoulder, he murmured, “Let us just lay here until they come for us.” There is no hurry, and I love holding you like this.”

  She kissed his bare chest in a silent agreement, snuggling closer before drifting back to sleep. He watched her as he brushed back her hair. I will love her forever, in this life and beyond…

  * * * *

  Cassandra held Matthew's hand tightly in her own as they bumped along in the carriage on the dirt road leading from the palace to Sebrone. Although the village was only a few hundred feet from the palace doors, the processional was used to reveal to the countrymen of Savon their queen.

  Matthew looked down at her and sighed as he smiled. “Cassa, please.” Cassandra glanced up to him. “I know this is different, but it will be all right.”

  “This is different. During the coronation, I just wanted to be accepted by them, accepted by your world. But this is my world. I lived side by side with these people. I think I will be devastated if they reject me.”

  Matthew hugged Cassandra as they pulled to a stop. He carefully stepped out, taking her hand and helping her to her feet. She stared at the crowd of people surrounding the armed escort. They returned her regard, looks of shock and surprise plastered across their faces. She clung to Matthew as he led her to the well to meet their people.

  Cassandra grabbed his arm with both of her hands, stopping him short as a small gang of boys rambled across their path. The smallest, a boy with flaming red hair and freckles dotting his face, fell to the bottom of the pack. He rose in sobs, both of his knees skinned and bleeding. Cassandra slipped her hands from Matthew, awkwardly kneeling before the terrified little boy.

  She placed her palms against the wounds and, after a moment, pulled away. The skin was healed. He beamed at her, reaching to touch the gold crown on her head. His mother grasped him in her arms, quietly rebuking him.

  Cassandra touched the woman’s arm. “It is all right,” she said, slipping the circlet from her head and holding it out for him to examine. He touched the gold and ran his small fingertips across the smooth precious stones. Cassandra set it gently on his head, laughing as it fell across his brow.

  The boy slipped the crown off and handed it back to her. Cassandra looked to her other side and discovered three awestruck young girls beside her. She pressed her hands together several times, releasing butterflies of blue, pink, and lavender into the air. The girls chased the creatures in a rapture of giggles as Matthew helped her to her feet.

  The townspeople gasped in amazement as they clasped her in their arms in excitement. She wandered between them, conversing with old friends, healing wounds, and promising her loyalty to them. As she turned, she discovered her ever-growing distance from her husband. He smiled at her encouragingly as he urged her on. Cassandra resumed her visits with the villagers to catch up on old news from the place she had called her home.

  Suddenly, a cry lodged in her throat as a burning, piercing sensation emitted from her womb. She staggered a few steps before collapsing to her knees. The sting washed over her like a tidal wave. She had never felt agony like this. She wrapped her arms around her belly as she began to rock and tremble. The intense pain barred the shouts of the village men from her ears.

  Matthew shoved his way through the throng, falling to his knees as he reached her side. He touched her face gently as he searched for an explanation. “Cassa,” he breathed in panic.

  Cassandra looked up as she gasped through pain and tears. “The baby, Matthew. Something is wrong with the baby.”

  Matthew pulled her to him then gently lifted her in his arms. He rushed through the crowd and climbed into the carriage. He clung to her as he set her on his lap, shouting orders to the footmen to return to the palace immediately. Cassandra buried her face in his chest as the carriage lurched into motion. She sobbed in pain and fear as his strong arms enveloped her. Please, I can’t lose my baby. Oh, the pain! It will kill Matthew if I lose his child. Oh, please make the pain stop. Please, I need to save my baby.

  * * * *

  Cassandra lay quietly on the bed as the physician examined her. Matthew held her hand tightly in his, worry and terror gripping his heart.

  The physician looked up at the young couple. “Whatever has happened, it has stopped now. She seems to be fine.”

  “Are you sure?” Matthew demanded.

  “Matthew, I am feeling fine now,” she assured.

  “Nevertheless, love, I think you should stay in bed. Just to rest.”

  “I would agree with his majesty,” the doctor offered.

  Matthew turned to see Otto knocking on the door. He glanced back at his wife. “I will send Angelique to help you into a nightdress and get comfortable.” He turned to the physician. “Thank you.”

  Standing, Matthew gently smiled to his love then slipped out the door. He wandered down the hall where Otto was waiting.

  “The villagers found Gorgon's men on the rooftops. They were drawing arrows in an assassination attempt against Cassandra.”

  “What stopped them?” Matthew glowered, fury spreading across his mind.

  “She collapsed. She fell out of their line of fire.”

  Matthew
stared at him in disbelief then turned and took a step away from Otto. “No, it cannot be.”

  “What cannot be?”

  Matthew looked at Otto. “She is fine now, like nothing happened. The baby caused her to collapse because he sensed she was in danger.”

  “How?”

  “He may be the Prince of Savon. But he is also part sorcerer. He knew.” Matthew crossed his arms around himself. The sudden realization of his son's power made him uneasy. Even as an infant, the child would be more powerful than he. Matthew sighed. This may be more than I bargained for.

  “You are concerned,” Otto stated instead of questioning.

  Matthew let go an uneasy chuckle. “Of course I am. He’s powerful enough to perform magic from her womb. Imagine when he’s a child with an ill temper from not getting his way. He protects her. She is his mother. I doubt he will feel the same for me.”

  Otto laughed. “Why would he not? You are his father. Yes, you might encounter some challenges you wouldn’t with a mortal child. But I know of your relationship with your father. Would you not have the same with your son?”

  Matthew stared at Otto in amazement. Memories of his father flooded his mind. He knew there were several times he had been angry with Thomas when he didn’t get what he desired. Yet he couldn’t remember a moment when he hadn’t felt love for his father. In fact, Matthew still loved him, even after his death.

  The king smiled. “Perhaps you are right, Otto. This is not something I need worry about now. When my child is born, I will strive to have the same relationship I had with his grandfather. It does not matter that he is a sorcerer. All that matters is that he is born healthy to his loving mother and father.”

  Otto clapped him across the back. “That is true, Matthew. That is very true. Shall we journey to the throne room? I believe there are soldiers prepared to deliver reports to us.”

  “Absolutely. Let us go.” The two men strode down the hall together towards the staircase.

  * * * *

  The black-clad soldiers marched into the main hall of Gorgon's fortress, their bows clenched in their hands. Gorgon sat in his favorite rugged wooden chair like a mock king holding court. Victor stood beside him coolly, brandishing his position as Gorgon's first commander. The older man smiled as they approached.

  “So, did it go well? Is she dead?”

  “No, my lord,” the leader of the detachment reported. “The villagers found us before we could get a shot off.”

  Gorgon flashed a look of anger at them. “So, did he marry the pale blond of Azgone?”

  “No,” the soldier replied. “The Sorceress.”

  “What?” Victor asked astounded. “Cassandra is alive?”

  “Yes. Moreover, she is with child.”

  Victor's eyes slit in rage. “That bastard.”

  Gorgon looked at him. “What is it?”

  “Matthew may be hopelessly in love with her, but he is a coward in all, including love. He could not look her in the eye, much less take her in his bed. The child is mine, and he laid claim to it.”

  “As his child, it is the next heir,” Gorgon warned.

  Victor reached into his pocket, producing the blood red stone on a gold chain. “I will take care of it.” He nodded a farewell to Gorgon and the other men as he strode from the great room.

  Climbing the staircase to his own chamber, he shut the door behind him. He clenched the amulet in his hand and closed his eyes. I had better make sure this works. He concentrated his thoughts on the courtyard outside, picturing the stone wall, the trees, and the grass in his mind.

  As the wind rustled his unkempt blond hair, he opened his eyes slowly. His knees buckled beneath him in sheer amazement as he stared at his surroundings. Above his head were millions of stars. Two broken, wooden carts rested in a patch of overgrown grass. The leaves of the trees in the courtyard flapped gently in the breeze.

  He had spelled himself outside as he wished to do. He stared at the stone in his hand in amazement. I did it! With this, nothing can stop me. Nothing. Not even Gorgon. An evil smile spread across his face. I think it’s time to claim what belongs to me. Cassandra.

  * * * *

  Cassandra gasped out as Matthew gripped the pillow beneath her head in his hands, one last tremor ricocheting through her thighs. She heard him groan as she felt him throb within her. Even after his release, he remained strong inside.

  She begged him in whispers to keep driving into her, to bring her to heavens she never knew existed. Her small delicate fingers, grasping his buttocks, urged him on. He laid a hot wet kiss on each hard, pink nipple then buried his lips against her chin bone. “No, Cassa. They will be in for us any second.”

  “Please, Matthew. Once more,” Cassandra moaned.

  Matthew groaned as he pulled away from her and climbed out of bed. He slipped his pants on then quickly laced them. He crossed to a stand near their bed, pouring a pitcher of water into a bowl then dipping a towel into the clear liquid. He ran it over his bare skin to cleanse his flesh from the sweat of their lovemaking. He laid the towel next to the bowl then crossed back to her. He kneeled on the damp sheets.

  Cassandra sat up, holding the linen sheets against her naked body. She grazed her lips against his. “I have not had my fill of you yet.”

  Matthew chuckled. “Last night. This morning. You want more?”

  Cassandra caressed his chest, rubbing her thumbs against his dark nipples. “I have grown addicted to our love,” she replied huskily.

  Matthew let out a moan as he dived between her lips. She loved the taste of him, knotting her tongue around his as she buried her fingers in his thick hair. A knock at the door tore their kiss apart.

  “Tonight, love. Tonight I will satisfy you again,” Matthew promised.

  “I will be waiting.”

  Matthew stood and pulled on his shirt, quickly buttoning it. Cassandra watched as he grabbed his jacket that was resting on a large plush crimson velvet chair. He blew her a kiss as he strode from the room. A moment later, Angelique's face peeked from around the door. “Your majesty?”

  “Yes?” Cassandra asked.

  “How may I serve?”

  “I think I will need a bath.”

  “Right away.” Angelique closed the doors, her feet patting in retreat to perform her duty.

  Cassandra stood and stretched as she felt the warm spring rays radiating against her bare flesh. She picked up the nightdress, which had been haphazardly thrown to the floor the night before, and slipped it over her head.

  She sat, patiently waiting as Angelique reappeared with the cauldron of water and prepared her tub. Sliding into the warm water, she immersed her body in the comforting liquid. After relaxing for nearly an hour, she emerged and dressed in her pale green satin gown.

  Cassandra breezed to the balcony to enjoy the morning. Sighing happily, she listened to the birds sing. She looked down as she heard men's voices below. She eagerly called Angelique to join her. The two women gazed down on Matthew, Henry, and Otto, listening to their conversation as they held back their own frantic giggles. Matthew looked up to find them, his eyes locking with the mischievous glimmer of his wife's.

  Matthew drew out his dagger, carefully cutting free a blooming red rose from the arbor. He dug his foot into the holes of the trellis then gripped the wood as he climbed to the balcony. He cautiously handed the prize to his beloved as he clung to the stick wall.

  “My hero,” Cassandra breathed as she buried her lips against his in a less than chaste kiss. Matthew moaned in response before he climbed down the trellis.

  As he reached the ground, he motioned for Henry to complete the same task. Taking a deep breath, Henry followed the example of his king, cutting free a white bloom and ascending the trellis to Angelique. She quickly took the flower from his shaking hand and bestowed a kiss on his cheek as a reward. Henry climbed down and left with the other two men.

  Cassandra danced into the bedchamber and fell back on her bed. She breathed in the fragranc
e of the rose, laughing in love. “Oh, Angelique, is he not wonderful? And so handsome and strong and mine!”

  Angelique smiled as she gazed at her own treasure. “Yes, your majesty.”

  Cassandra sat up. “Please, Angelique, call me Cassandra.” She smiled slyly. “And Henry—he is very handsome too, do you not think?”

  “Aye,” Angelique sighed.

  Cassandra rushed to her, clasping her hands eagerly. “I could put a spell on him to make him fall in love with you. It would be quick. Let me get my book.”

  “No, Cassandra,” Angelique insisted. “If I win him, I want to do it under my own power.”

  “Aye,” the queen acknowledged as she hugged the maid. “I hope you do.”

  “I will. Now let me go and get a vase to place our flowers in.” Angelique slipped out the door towards the kitchen.

  Cassandra set the red rose on the mattress then settled herself at her vanity. She picked up a brush and guided the bristles against her long brown hair as she hummed joyfully to herself. Setting the brush down, she looked up at her reflection.

  Her face froze as her eyes fell on an image dressed in black behind her, glaring at her with stone cold blue eyes. She rushed to her feet and stumbled over the stool she sat on. She fell to the floor as her lungs opened in screams and cries.

  Otto burst through the door followed by Joseph, Cook, and Angelique. Cook fell to her knees and tugged Cassandra into her arms to cuddle her. Otto knelt beside them. “What happened, Cassandra?” he demanded.

  “I saw him. He was here. He was here,” Cassandra gasped through her sobs.

  “Who? Who was here?”

  Cassandra did not answer as she turned to bury her tears into Cook's shoulder.

  “Where is Matthew?” Joseph inquired.

  “He went with Henry to Sebrone,” Otto replied.