Tamed by the Knight

by Loki Renard

“No.” The Dark King shook his head in disbelief as he looked about himself with wild eyes. “No!”

  His shouting did nothing, for Gregory’s knights held their ground. It was a sweet moment for the men who had so valiantly fought for the kingdom to see its greatest threat crumbling in despair. But he was not done yet. There was more ere the end, blustering words and threats that were no longer fearsome for being issued through trembling lips.

  “A cross within a cross within a cross,” the man who had once been the Dark King said, his voice hollow with disbelief. “I thought I had you, but it was you who had me. Spies and liars, the lot of you, but I’ll not lay down my life that easy. I’ll have one more monarch ere the end.”

  It would have gone better for him had he not announced his intentions. He drew his sword and lunged toward Madeline. The sound of dozens of swords unsheathing at once filled the clearing. Madeline did not see what happened next, for Gregory grabbed her and pushed her face against his chest, covering her ears with his hands as he drew her away from the awful scene with great haste.

  She sobbed tears of relief as the realization fully dawned. She was safe. She always had been. Gregory had seen to that, even in the most trying of times when spies and traitors lurked in every corner. The Dark King was dead. Her father was avenged. She was saved, but her body could not comprehend that. It shook with the same fear as before, her limbs trembling as she fell faint against Gregory’s strong form.

  “Shh, Madeline,” Gregory said, soothing her with soft words and gentle caresses. “All is well. All is well.”

  “This was your plan, wasn’t it.” She lifted her eyes to him, searching his handsome face with a sense of newfound wonder. “You knew that the Dark King was infiltrating the town. “

  “More than that,” Gregory replied. “As his numbers dwindled and he became more desperate, the Dark King took refuge in solitude. He would not allow any of his men to come to him. He became as elusive as a ghost, but as dangerous as a poisoned blade. When we received word of a plot to take you, there was talk of mounting a heavy guard, but I knew eventually you would slip away and he would have you. Better for this to happen when a small army was watching over you than for it to happen when we are all unawares. You drew the Dark King out of his hiding place and brought him into the light where he could be vanquished.”

  “You have been scheming in secret,” Madeline said. “I knew none of this.”

  “A king must protect his queen,” Gregory said, tenderly stroking her hair. “This was the only way. If you had known what we knew, you would have acted rashly…”

  “Me? Rash? How dare you!” Madeline feigned outrage, but she could not maintain it. Gregory was right. Even if she had known of the plot sooner or later, she would have tried to ferret out the traitors and been killed—or worse. His schemes had kept her safe, and had been executed with a mastery she had not known he possessed.

  “Your disguise was impressive,” she said. “I really had no idea until the very last…”

  “I have watched you skulk about the place in various guises enough times to know what makes a disguise work,” Gregory said, holding her close and kissing her with passion and tenderness in equal amounts. “I have learned much from you, Madeline. You have made me many times the knight I was.”

  “Oh, I know,” she said, wrapping her arms about his neck and allowing him to sweep her up off her feet. “I have made you much more than a knight. I have made you a king.”

  “Arrogant wench,” Gregory laughed, kissing her as he carried her back toward civilization, striding through the forest as if she weighed nothing at all. He let her take her feet after a time, holding her hand as they walked. There was no longer anything to fear in the forest; men of ill will no longer hid in the shadows.

  They departed the trees and looked toward Griffon Hold where her father’s banner was flying high from each of the three towers. She should have been proud, but her sense of victory began to turn to despair at the sight of the banners flowing in the wind. There was no reason for it that she could fathom. She had so many reasons to celebrate and yet her heart grew heavier with every step.

  Hexmark was tethered not far off. She mounted and Gregory mounted after her and together they rode back to Griffon Hold in triumph. Every soul was out in the streets, shouting victory, but though she smiled and waved at the happy faces, she did not share their joy.

  “Will you drink with your knights, my queen?” Gregory murmured the question in her ear, one strong arm about her waist as he helped her dismount.

  “No,” Madeline said. “I think I will go to my chamber.”

  She went up to the room she and Gregory shared and found the valiant Nosewise upon the rug at the end of the bed. He lifted his head and wagged at her as she entered and she burst into tears, going to her knees and burying her face in the mastiff’s heavy fur.

  “Madeline, my sweet, what is wrong?” Gregory had followed her, sensing her sadness, but he seemed shocked at the outpouring of tears that flowed in a torrent over her cheeks.

  She could not speak for tears, and even if there had been no tears she could not have spoken anyway for her thoughts were too dark to have form. The weight of being monarch was suddenly so heavy she could not breathe.

  “I think… I think I might be going mad,” she gasped between sobs. “I can’t… I feel…” She did not have the words to explain, but Gregory understood without the need for them.

  “You are not going mad. This is what I feared,” he said, holding her close. “You have been so brave for so long, you have borne so much grief, and you have not allowed yourself to feel any of it. Now you are experiencing it all at once.”

  “Is that what this is?” Madeline sniffed as she looked into his eyes, hoping he had the answers she so needed.

  “Yes, my sweet. Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” he reminded her. “Your task has not been an easy one, and though the Dark King walks these lands no longer, it will not be any easier. But I can promise you one thing.” He kissed her deeply and thoroughly, chasing the darkness away with the force of his love. “I will be by your side. You will not bear any of this alone. In fact, if you wish to spend your days picking out fabric and choosing dresses, you may.”

  She sniffed and smiled weakly at his jest. “And leave all the intrigue to you? I think not.”

  “There’s the woman I love,” Gregory smiled, kissing her again. “Let yourself grieve, Madeline. And let yourself celebrate too. You have earned the crown you wear. You have made your father proud. And you have made me proud.”

  Madeline’s tears began to fall again, but they were less tears of sorrow and more of joy. Her grief was mixed with love in equal measures so that it was impossible to be either too sad or too happy.

  “There is something I want to show you,” he said, taking her by the hand. “Come.”

  The celebrations had already begun in the castle and the town, but Gregory and Madeline eschewed them all as he led her out to the stables. Melyngar was placidly chewing hay in one of the stalls. She had grown quite broad over the past weeks due to an abundance of feed and a lack of exercise.

  “Place your hand on her stomach at the fullest part,” Gregory instructed. “And tell me what you feel.”

  Madeline smoothed her hand over Melyngar’s side, then let out a little shriek and drew it away. “Something moves within!”

  “Yes,” Gregory laughed. “She is in foal. In a few weeks, there will be a new addition to our stables.”

  “A foal?” Madeline’s eyes widened. “A foal! Is it…”

  “Yes,” Gregory confirmed. “Hexmark did the deed. Soon we will see the result of their love. It will be a fine steed indeed.”

  “There is hope in the kingdom,” Madeline agreed. “A steed of the house of de Griffon this way comes.”

  “Yes,” Gregory said, winding his arms around her waist and nuzzling the back of her neck. “And perhaps Melyngar is not the only one in the family way.” He let his hands drift d
own to her belly. “If not, we will soon rectify that. There will be many heirs to our throne, my sweet.”

  “For that to happen, you will have to spill your seed somewhere other than my bottom, dear husband. All this time and I do not think you have ever spent yourself inside the proper place,” Madeline teased.

  Gregory bit the back of her neck lightly. “That can be arranged, my dear queen. All it will take is your obedience.”

  She looked over her shoulder, a cheeky little smile on her face. “If you wait for that, we will never have an heir.”

  “You speak the truth,” he replied, his hands hiking her skirts. “I will have to find another way to discipline you. Perhaps public thrashings will be the thing. Do you think your loyal subjects will enjoy seeing their queen have her bottom bared and reddened under their king’s hand?”

  “No!” Madeline squirmed in place as Gregory loosed his cock and pressed it to her nether lips under her skirts. With one thrust he sank inside her, filling her to the hilt.

  “No, you don’t think they will like it, or no, you do not want that?” He made the inquiry casually as he began to thrust inside her, taking her sweet cunt with long, hard strokes that left her grasping at the stable door, bent at the waist in a manner that left nothing to the imagination no matter how well she was covered.

  Madeline would have liked to say she did not want it, but as with all things she had experienced under Gregory’s hands, she knew she would probably come to find it as intoxicating and arousing as everything else he did. If he were to thrash her before the world she would not have cared in that moment, for the way he made her feel chased all doubts and fears and notions of sense and left her trembling around his flesh. She surrendered to her king entirely, his cock finding her core again and again as she spiraled into the happiness of forever after.

  The End

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  More Stormy Night Books by Loki Renard

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  Years later, Martin, now the Sheriff of Staffordshire and a widower since illness claimed his wife, encounters his childhood friend in the unlikeliest of places: a convent. Though Mary plays the part of a simple woman who dreams of becoming a nun, Martin is far from convinced. He knows the feisty girl far too well to believe that she aspires to a life of service in the church, and in any case, he has another future to offer her—a future as his wife.

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  The Barbarian’s Bride

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