Kingdom Come

by Devi Mara

  From photographs, he knew the man was the leader of the country. He expected someone taller. The doors closed with a quiet thud behind him. Smiling widely, the man approached him. He held out a hand, clearly expecting him to take it. After a pregnant pause, he raised his hand to clasp the human’s.

  “Your Majesty, it is my pleasure to have you here.” The president managed to make it sound like he was doing him a favor. His hand clenched a bit tighter, before he let go and stepped back.

  Edric gave him a barely-there smile. “It is interesting to meet you.”

  “Thank you. I apologize, my assistant isn’t here yet, but I’m sure she will be here presently.” The man gave him another bright smile.

  It set his teeth on edge. “Very well.”

  He allowed the man to usher him onto one of the sofas. It was clearly made for aesthetics rather than comfort. Grinding his teeth to keep from speaking, he ignored the man’s monologue about the history of the room. His advisors had already told him all there was to know about the building for security reasons. The man was wasting his breath.

  A flurry of activity outside the door to his right made him raise his head slowly. There was something about the faint breathing he could hear through the door. Still pondering, he turned his head to watch the doors open. A young woman stepped into the room slowly, apprehension in every movement she made.

  He could not take his eyes off her. As her large, grey eyes took in the room, his gaze roamed over her. She was exactly as he thought she would be. Her photographs did not do her justice. They could not capture the length of her legs, the width of her hips, or the ripe curves of her body.

  He noticed a few strands of her chestnut hair had fallen free of the neat hairstyle. It was an improvement. He preferred her hair as he had always seen it, flowing freely down her back. The pantsuit she wore was nicely fitted, but she was clearly uncomfortable. She would have not chosen to wear something so out of character.

  He was vaguely aware of the president clearing his throat. The woman’s eyes immediately turned toward them and a becoming blush rose in her pale cheeks. Movement behind her drew his gaze. He watched with narrowed eyes as the same agent stopped behind her, handing her a data pad identical to the one he used earlier.

  She visibly started at the presence behind her. His hands clenched on his knees to keep himself from standing. Agent Jackson met his irritated gaze for a fraction of a second and he thought he saw satisfaction before the man left the room. The woman’s movement drew his attention away from the closing doors.

  She smiled slightly, just a small curve of her full lips, and moved further into the room. Even with the strange footwear she wore, her movements held her usual grace. She prowled forward and paused at the end of the president’s sofa. Her eyes landed on him for the barest of moments, before the president began to speak.

  “Miss Ashley, thank you for joining us. We were just about to begin.”

  Edric ignored the president’s nod in his direction, instead watching the thoughts flow across the woman’s face.

  “Prince Edric, this is my administrative assistant, Abigail Ashley.”

  Most of him bristled at the president calling Abigail his anything, but he suppressed the urge to growl at the man. He watched her gaze move over him appreciatively, straightening his spine to let her know she was free to look. As her eyes rose to his, he felt the moment his nature accepted her.

  Lightning streaked down his spine, a slight pain, but the joy of being in her presence negated much of the discomfort. He allowed himself only a moment to look into her eyes, before he forced himself to look away. It would be disrespectful to hold her gaze once he had determined her to be the one he sought.

  “Okay, let’s get started. Prince Edric, is there anything you need before we get started? Refreshments?”

  At the president’s words, he had to fight the urge to look at the young woman standing so close to him. “No. Thank you.” After he spoke, he noticed an immediate change in her scent. She was interested in him. He willed himself to keep still.

  "Miss Ashley, would you please be seated?" At the president’s words, she moved to sit across from him. “Are you ready, Miss Ashley?”

  She gave the president a shaky smile and he had to suppress an irrational surge of jealousy. “Yes, sir. Please continue.”

  He glanced at her when she spoke, her voice softly accented by her Midwestern upbringing.

  “I’ll just, um, take notes? Sir.”

  The small stumble made him want to smile. She was so far out of her element, but it only served to remind him of how very different she was from the others.

  “Prince Edric, shall we begin with introductions?”

  Still admiring her, the president’s words drew his eyes away from her. “Of course,” he answered, irritation in every syllable. The man had one thing he wanted. It was not enough to warm his tone.

  “Do you mind getting us started?”

  The president was a manipulator, but a very wise one. He knew, with Abigail in the room, the prince would have very little choice but to answer his questions. His nature demanded he present himself as worthy of her. He ground his teeth, but raised his head to give the president a dark look.

  “I am Ambassador of the Ghadrik, High Prince of the Ghadrikan kingdom, and Champion of Her Majesty, The Queen.”

  The president’s lips quirked into a small sneer, but when he spoke it was absent from his tone. “Though I was not born to royalty,” he paused to raise a challenging eyebrow, “I am President of the United States, a great nation built on democracy.”

  His eyes narrowed at the insult to his people. It was only the awareness of Abigail’s presence that curbed his violent outburst. “How nice for you,” he hissed venomously.

  “Um, sir?”

  He jerked his head to look at her, the president mirroring his movement. His eyes instantly softened at the worried frown on her face. “Could we take a short break? I forgot to bring my voice recorder. It’s still in Agent Jackson’s suit jacket.”

  She was a smart one to try to diffuse the situation. Even though he knew she was doing it for her president, he still respected her attempt.

  “Of course, Miss Ashley.” The president turned his head to look at him, and he did not bother to meet the man’s gaze. “Do you mind if we take a short break?”

  She turned her head to look at him, her eyes seeming to look into him. He looked away before he could meet her gaze. “That is satisfactory,” he said.

  As soon as she left the room all pretense of civility fled. He bared his teeth at the man across from him who gave him a darkly amused smile.

  “So, we have something you want?” The question was pointless, as they both knew the president had him at a disadvantage.

  He leaned forward in his chair. “You think I can’t find a woman anywhere?” He scoffed. “There is nothing special about her.”

  “Yet, you came to a meeting that you earlier refused,” the president shot back. “Only after we acquired your interest.”

  “You think Russia did not make a similar offer?” He sat back in his chair with a satisfied smirk on his lips. “A much larger country. Far more variety.”

  “But no Abigail Ashley.”

  He hated how sure the president sounded. The man knew far more than he should. “As if I would desire such a woman.”

  “Despite her deficiencies, you do want her. And if you intend to get her, you will have to negotiate with the United States.”

  He gave the man a grim smile. “We will see.”

  The door opened a moment later, cutting off whatever retort the president intended to utter. His satisfaction faded when he turned to look at the beautiful woman standing in the doorway, a frown on her face. His confusion swiftly turned to fury when she limped into the room.

  He ignored the president’s words, eyes taking in her appearance for any sign of injury. A small tumble, she said. He had nothing but distrust for the country and its useless leader
. He forced himself to stay seated, as he watched her retake her seat and quietly speak with the president.

  “What do you think of our country, Prince Edric?”

  He was still studying her, when the president’s question permeated his single-minded focus.

  “It has merit,” he answered, watching Abigail blush a becoming shade of pink.

  “Have you had a chance to see much of it?”

  He pulled his eyes away from her to give the other man a flat look. “As of today, I have seen this building and a small portion of the grounds.” None of which was terribly impressive, he mentally added.

  “Ah. A fan of architecture?” The man was baiting him. A surge of pure loathing went through him.

  He added a bit of bite to his reply. “No, you architecture pales in comparison to what I am accustomed to.” His lips twitched in amusement as the president’s eyes narrowed.

  The man visibly calmed himself and calculation flickered in his eyes a moment before he spoke. “Then what is it that has impressed you, Prince Edric?”

  His eyes drifted toward Abigail without his consent. Her warm, gray eyes were watching him. He forced his eyes back to the satisfied gaze of the president. The man truly thought he had the upper hand. He allowed himself to sink back into the uncomfortable couch.

  “You have a very large military, Mr. President.” He bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile. “Why is that?” He nearly chuckled at the man’s flabbergasted stare.

  “Excuse me?”

  He cocked his head to the side to give the man a look of mock sincerity. “Eighth in the world, if North Korea is to be believed.”

  He let the threat hang in the space between them, relishing the look of alarmed fury that filled the president’s face. Never mind that he had no interest in the petty spats between the human nations, it was enough to let the man know he was aware of human politics.

  He sat forward to get a better vantage point to enjoy the emotions crossing the president’s face. He was far too easy to read, a great weakness in a leader. As he was considering whether he should twist the verbal knife, Abigail spoke.

  “Prince Edric?”

  He immediately gave her his full attention, dismissing the man across from him. “Yes, Miss Ashley?” He was aware of the warmth in his tone, but was unable to prevent it.

  After a false start, she gathered herself and said, “Would you explain what you meant earlier? About being champion. What does that mean?”

  He knew she was trying to bring the meeting back to something resembling pleasant conversation. He considered ignoring her question, but beyond the pretense of her job, he saw she was truly interested. He could not resist her.

  A smile curved his lips, the first he had truly meant since he had left his own world. Her cheeks instantly pinked and he barely suppressed the pleased rumble in his chest. Every fiber of his being wanted to move across the room to be at her side. He answered to distract himself, careful not to look her in the eye.

  “To be the Queen’s Champion is a great honor. It is comparable to a general, if Earth has one military and one general.”

  “And the queen, that’s your mother?”

  After she asked the question, he caught her glancing toward the president. For permission, he assumed. He ground his teeth, but nodded to her question. When it was possible, he would take pleasure insuring she need never ask anyone for permission again. Never bow her head to anyone.

  “Yes,” he murmured, to both his planned liberation and her question.

  “Is she going to come here, too?”

  Tone filled with dark amusement, he turned his gaze to the president. “She does not care for humans.”

  “Oh?” she asked in a light tone. “Any particular reason?”

  If he did not already want her, her saucy smirk would have done him in. He smiled, forgetting the president’s presence in his enjoyment of her.

  “Several,” he told her in a conspiratorial tone.

  She started to smile at him, when the president cleared his throat. Her smile slid off her face and guilty look took its place. He slowly turned his head to pin the other man with a glare.

  “I think this meeting is over.”

  As loathe as he was to leave Abigail’s presence, he could not stay near the president a moment longer without causing him irreparable bodily harm. Something he did not think she would appreciate. He rose to his feet and stalked toward the door, without giving either of them another look.

  Chapter Two

  Eye of Fire

  “Love in its essence is spiritual fire.”

  - Lucius Annaeus Seneca

  Her eyes followed the enigmatic man as he stalked from the room, unable to look away until he vanished through the doorway. The president’s voice jerked her back to attention.

  “Miss Ashley.”

  She whipped around to face him, praying her face was blank and holding none of the intrigue she felt. The prince was rude at best, a terrorist at worst. She had no place finding him the least bit interesting. She straightened her spine.

  “Yes, sir?”

  He was no longer looking at her, already on his feet and walking toward his desk. Back still to her, he said, “Ask the ambassador to meet with me again next week.”

  She blinked at his back. When he offered no further instructions, she snatched the tablet from the couch beside her and headed for the door at a fast limp. Get him to agree to a meeting. She could do that.

  She paused in the hallway, glancing both ways. She caught a glimpse of an armored back vanishing around the corner at the end of the long hall. Muttering under her breath, she jogged as best she could in the uncomfortable shoes, heels making an uneven clicking on the floor as she went.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when she rounded the corner and the prince’s party seemed to be having a discussion amongst themselves. She sucked in a lungful of air and let it out slowly, before she raised her head and walked toward them with what she hoped was a dignified air.

  The guard closest to the back of the group, glanced over his shoulder at her and immediately elbowed the one next to him. The second guard, the tallest woman Abby had ever seen, cocked her head to the side and stared at her. The Amazonian redhead eventually cleared her throat, attracting the attention of the rest.

  “Your Majesty, you have someone seeking an audience.” Her voice was deep and raspy, as if she had smoked a few packs of cigarettes before the meeting today.

  Abby barely suppressed a smile at the ridiculous thought. The other woman seemed to see her amusement, because she gave her a faint smile in return.

  “Sir?” Abby called, peering between the guards to locate the prince at the center of the group. The guards shifted aside and suddenly he stood less than a yard from her.

  “Miss Ashley.” His eyes did not meet hers, instead moving over her face and eventually fastening on a spot just above her head.

  She frowned. He never looked at her when they spoke. It was a small thing, but it nagged at her. She arranged her face into a neutral expression.

  “The president would like to meet with you next week.”

  The guards shifted, drawing her gaze. She noticed the redhead was not the only woman. There were several. A strongly built blonde and a lean, dark-skinned woman. All of them in armor identical to the men. The guards watched the two of them with a strange expression. She was not sure how to take the combination of satisfaction and watchfulness.

  “I have no interest in meeting with him,” the prince finally answered, drawing her gaze back to him.

  His eyes met hers for a fraction of a second, just long enough for her to see the unique aquamarine color again. The splash of color beneath his dark brows, almost took her breath away. She found herself nodding, before she could stop herself.

  “Yes. I noticed you don’t get on too well.”

  His lips twisted into a wry smile. “What gave you that impression, Miss Ashley?”

  Her stomach did not flutter when
he said her name. She cleared her throat. “The barely concealed hostility mostly.”

  His eyebrows shot up at her bluntness. The surprise quickly faded into amusement. “You have a very disarming way of speaking your mind, Miss Ashley.”

  “Yeah, it gets me in trouble.” She glanced over her shoulder to check that the hallway was still empty behind her. “So, how about that meeting, Your Majesty?”

  His faint scowl made his thoughts clear. She hurried to cut him off before he could turn her down.

  “I could take your party on a tour of the grounds, afterwards? Or the city. Whichever one.” When he continued to stare at her silently, she racked her brain for something else to offer. “Lunch?”

  He cocked his head to the side, at least considering her proposal. After a moment, he nodded once. “Agreed.”

  She started to smile, when she heard quick footsteps approaching from down the hall. She glanced over her shoulder. Agent Jackson managed to look dignified as he stalked down the hall toward them. His face was arranged in a mask of neutral politeness, but his eyes were cold when they landed on her.

  When he was within speaking distance, he gave the prince a tight smile. “Your Majesty.” He ducked his head in a quick bow and stepped up beside her. “You have work to finish,” he told her without making eye contact.

  In trouble, again. She mentally sighed and gave the prince’s party a forced smile. “It was nice to meet you, sir. I look forward to seeing you next week.”

  Agent Jackson cleared his throat and sent her a quick glare. “I’ll meet you in my office.”

  She glanced at the prince to see him watching Jackson with an unreadable look. He did not look at her. She refused to examine the bloom of disappointment she felt at his lack of attention. Turning away, she took a few steps before the prince spoke.

  “Miss Ashley?”

  Her breath caught in her throat at the husky tone. She swallowed hard and glanced over her shoulder at him.