Queen

by Daya Daniels

  Alexander smiles. “Playing?”

  “Yes, playing.” Anna’s is blasé about her statement.

  Alexander’s eyes meet mine.

  Anna runs her fingertips along Alexander’s robe at the shoulder. “Yes, well, when you’re with that man who always has all the silver stuff on, you’re laughing and jumping around and making lots of noise, so I’d say you’re playing.”

  Alexander cracks up laughing.

  A smile skates across my lips at how relaxed and amused he seems.

  He nods over and over. “Yes, I suppose you could say we’re playing then if you look at it that way.”

  Anna grins.

  Alexander takes a deep breath and drags a hand over his beard, then slowly his eyes settle on mine.

  They’re unreadable.

  I see impatience and even maybe a little disappointment…in me, but I don’t see it for long.

  It departs from his features as quickly as it had arrived.

  “I am sorry.” I mean every word. “I am truly sorry for this.”

  He doesn’t blink.

  I keep my head low, searching for words—excuses, promises, admissions of guilt, but I cannot organize them in a way that they will leave my mouth so that they do not cause any further offense.

  “I did not know what else to do, Alexander.”

  Anna hops in the seat across from Alexander and fiddles with the chess pieces. “Can I play?”

  Brows knotted, Alexander’s gaze settles on Anna.

  “It doesn’t seem like you have anyone to play with?” She frowns.

  It is true.

  Sorrow captures Alexander’s features. “No, I do not any longer.” He smiles.

  Anna moves a chess piece across the chessboard.

  Alexander eyes her curiously. “I used to have someone to play this game with...” Exhaling, he moves a piece himself.

  Anna moves another.

  Alexander makes very little fuss that Anna likely doesn’t know what she’s doing but he looks very much in his element, sitting in his chair, wearing his robe, his hair perfectly coiffed and playing a game which he now must reign supreme at winning.

  “Where is your father?” Anna’s big blues regard Alexander.

  Alexander clears his throat loudly before he can reply. “He isn’t around anymore.”

  Neither is mine…

  And no matter how many days have gone by since his passing, it does nothing to quell the ache of missing him. Of wanting him here in my life. Of hoping that I could talk to him. Of wishing that he could see me now.

  It seems all three of us have something in common.

  “My father isn’t around anymore either?” Anna moves another piece. “I miss him.”

  Alexander makes another move.

  “Do you miss your father, Your Majesty?”

  Alexander laughs. “Please, you do not have to call me that.”

  Anna’s brows wrinkle in confusion. “Then what shall I call you then?”

  Alexander smiles.

  I do too.

  His gaze cuts to mine and then lands back on Anna. “You may call me whatever you wish, Anna.”

  Anna is purposeful with her next move because the piece hits the chessboard loudly. “Then, I shall call you Father. Is that okay?” Anna’s eyes beg to know the answer to her question from the man I love so much.

  Fear curls up in my belly. Sadness constricts my throat. But still, hope clings to my ribs.

  The wait for Alexander’s words is painful and time seems to stretch on for an eternity before he allows us to have them. I am aware that this isn’t ideal. I know the way Alexander likely imagined becoming a father was not in this way at all. Anna is not his blood. Never will be. But, she is innocent. She is just a child who is desperately in need of someone to care for her…like I once was.

  My left hand trembles terribly before I use my right hand to stop it from doing so. I lower my head to stare at the stone, waiting for my soon-to-be husband’s deep voice.

  Alexander chuckles. “Yes, Anna, you may call me Father.”

  In a flash, my chin lifts and a smile so big and painful stretches across my cheeks.

  Alexander’s eyes settle on mine and he moves another chess piece.

  My lips part to speak.

  “We can talk more later, Briar.” He tips his head forward once.

  “Okay, yes, yes, of course.”

  “I was told you have much to do with Sister Rebecca today.”

  “I do.” I step forward to gather Anna up.

  Alexander’s lips press together before he says another word. “I can watch her for a little while, Briar, while you go to the church.”

  I freeze, partly in confusion and partly in surprise.

  “Anna and I are going to finish this game.” Smiling, he gets back to the chessboard.

  I turn on my heel and head for the large doors, taking occasional glances over my shoulder at the pair where they play their game. Anna’s giggle is infectious and when it slips in my ears it sends a soft smile to my lips.

  This council chamber which so often is full of yelling is now home to laughter.

  Innocence.

  Hope.

  Love.

  Beyond the window, the sky is dark—so dark—and has been for days.

  It doesn’t matter, at least not right now, because we are surrounded by so much light.

  Chuckling, Alexander offers words of advice to Anna. “Although there is a king on this chessboard, the most powerful piece on this chessboard, Anna, is the queen. She can move any place she wants in this game—forward, backward, sideways, diagonally, and as far as possible, as long as she doesn’t move any of her own pieces.” He taps on the queen with a thick fingertip. “Nothing can stop the queen. She is a force to be reckoned with.” Those grays of his flicker up to meet mine, hold, and then they settle on Anna once more.

  A thousand questions sit on the tip of my tongue, but the most important one causes me to pause.

  Expertly, I have kept Anna hidden away from the prying eyes of the world…

  “Alexander.”

  His head snaps up.

  “How did you know?”

  His eyes narrow. “My father had once told that a man who does not know what is going on behind the walls of his castle is a bloody fool.”

  Very well then.

  Offering a nod, I continue my stride. I disappear through the doors, and when they shut, I accept that we truly are beginning a new chapter of our lives. All three of us…

  Alexander

  “I FORGIVE YOU.” I stroke Briar’s cheek softly.

  Gorgeous hazel orbs look up at me.

  A teasing hand runs down my abs and greedy fingers circle around my swollen flesh once more.

  “Oh, Briar.” I shove my fingers into a mahogany mass of hair which falls around delicate shoulders, covers her back, and stops at her waist.

  It is late at night.

  A candle flickers and burns and all which surrounds us is quiet.

  There is peace in this chamber.

  It has never felt as it does tonight.

  We spent hours praying to the God above whom I have not spoken to in quite some time. We talked of forgiveness. We spoke of my mother and Jean-Baptiste and all things regarding England. Briar implored me to seek the council of the Holy Bible instead of handling matters without considering the word of God beforehand. I agreed that I would. I promised I would pray. And she promised that she would pray over the matter too.

  But, such things aren’t necessary…

  This woman is a kind soul.

  A goddamn saint.

  She is a woman who is perhaps too good even for this world.

  Hell would not have her. Heaven doesn’t deserve her. And this earth cannot contain her spirit.

  With a groan, my back arches and I crane my neck to the ceiling, mouth gaped. Heinous sounds leave it as Briar takes my
cock deep down her hot throat. Her hand works over my flesh faster and with more purpose and then her tongue teases the swollen head. Red, red lips suck on my flesh as if they want to drain the life from me.

  “I forgive you.”

  Her eyes search my own as if she does not believe me.

  With a lazy hand, I stroke her cheek, ensuring her that no matter what happens in this lifetime or the next…I will always forgive her. No smile crosses her face, but her lips settle back around my cock and work the length of my dick from root to tip with a squelch.

  Every muscle in my thighs twitches.

  My cock jumps and throbs of its own accord.

  I cannot control it.

  It is a wild beast!

  I can do nothing but take everything Briar offers.

  A beautiful mouth stretches wide as she takes me deep, punishing herself, and gags.

  Tugging on my dick, I edge closer to where she kneels before me.

  I am her ruler.

  I am a man to be worshipped.

  I am her KING!

  She bows before me…

  It is a position I have only ever seen this woman in when she is praying. Now, it is different.

  Chest heaving, she struggles for air.

  I know this is difficult, but it is something that this woman will master by God.

  She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and with watery eyes she looks up at me, adoring me, begging for my forgiveness, needing for me to love her. I do. I do. I do. Tugging on my dick, I edge closer to her naked frame, teasing her wet lips with my cock, encouraging them to open again, needing her to taste the precum which lingers there.

  She does…

  A satisfied groan settles in my chest and my fingers thread through her hair before I pull her close.

  Spitting up like a greedy baby, she gags.

  Holding her head in place, I shunt forward just a little and watch my cock slip, inch by inch by inch down her throat and into her very soul. I fill her pretty mouth with allllll of me. Briar breathes through her nose. Those tears of asphyxiation trip over her eyelids and soak her cheeks. An impressed smile curves up on my face, and then, I move.

  I fuck her face.

  Harder.

  Faster.

  Eagerly.

  I control the speed, the rhythm and the force.

  My big balls slap her wet chin.

  They are full, aching and tight…all for her.

  A sharp sensation shoots up the shaft of my cock.

  “I am your king.” A terrible groan rips from me, one full of pride and a desire to give.

  Heart detained completely, I peer down at the woman on her knees who has made me the father of a precocious little girl. A woman who has come into my life and all but turned it on its fucking end. She has made me a mess of emotions I have never deigned to allow myself to feel ever before. She has captured my heart and claimed it as her own.

  But…

  She disobeyed me.

  She defied me.

  Yet, I feel powerless to punish her.

  No person on this side of the earth with any common sense at all would ever dare rebel against me.

  The King of England.

  I rule.

  I am revered.

  I am respected.

  I am feared.

  But, this woman frets not.

  And she should not.

  I will always forgive her.

  Always, always, always.

  “I am your king.” I growl out the words over and over and over.

  Briar moans out her agreement around my flesh, sincerity rippling across her features.

  My fingers wrap tighter in her hair, speed increasing, hips thrusting against perfectly swollen lips.

  She takes me down deep.

  Heart thumping and with a chest covered in sweat, I pull Briar closer, tighter in my grip, and when a succession of grunts explodes from my chest, I fill her pretty mouth with the contents from my family jewels ensuring not to spill one drop.

  She struggles to breathe.

  “Swallow it.”

  Watery eyes gaze back at me.

  “Swallow it, Briar.” My voice rises.

  She gags.

  I move slowly, wet cock snaking past her pink lips.

  “I am your king.” It’s a goddamn reminder.

  She blinks back tears.

  “You will do as I command.” I arch a brow and wait patiently.

  She does…

  And when her mouth is no longer overflowing with all of me, I ease her up from the floor and plant a punishing kiss to her lips which steals all the breath from her lungs before I spin her around and bend her forward. Without warning, I slide into the depths of her pussy and fuck, fuck, fuck her. There is no restraint.

  “Alexander!” She gasps.

  My hips blast into a meaty ass, chasing pleasure intended for the two of us.

  This night is far from over.

  Briar is hours away from being able to obtain any rest from my ministrations.

  I intend to make sure that I am all over her, inside her, flowing through her bloody veins.

  We make love.

  I give her all of me.

  So much that she will never need to pray for more.

  CHAPTER

  IX

  Briar

  I KNOW WHAT IT feels like to burn…

  After running a hand over my skin, I swear I can still feel the sear of the flames against my flesh.

  I can still smell the charred scent of my skin and bones as they broiled and cracked.

  The fire.

  It was ever-present, consuming, and memorable.

  I haven’t felt at peace since…

  Since that morning when I snuck Anna into Berkhamsted Castle, I managed to make peace with Sister Rebecca. She clutched me tight and held me like never before as tears ran down her cheeks and her body quaked. She rambled on about how scared she was for me that, with my decision, I had potentially thrown everything away…I had assured her that with Alexander’s forgiving and kind spirit, I had not. I had informed Sister Rebecca that Alexander was happy about Anna’s arrival and that he understood my decision even though I had defied him. Sister Rebecca was adamant in reminding me that I had always been a stubborn child, but one with a good heart. Still, she gripped me by the shoulders, bore into me with crazed eyes and told me that sometimes you cannot sacrifice yourself for the good of all.

  I still do not believe that, but I did tell Sister Rebecca that I did.

  We sank down to our knees beneath the moonlight which filtered into the church through the stained-glass windows and prayed and prayed and prayed. I kept my eyes on Sister Rebecca and had nothing but appreciation for her convictions and her belief in the power of prayer.

  I had to believe in it.

  I could tell her nothing about the dark forces which surround us, especially the one which lives right in the bottom of Berkhamsted Castle, floors and floors below where Sister Rebecca sleeps. The nun who helped to make me the woman I am today would never believe it. She’d curse the heavens and demand that Berkhamsted Castle is set alight to rid it of such evils and then douse it in Holy Water just to make sure all darkness was gone for good.

  But the darkness is always here…

  It surrounds us.

  I am of mind that it is why the sun never shines.

  There is no light.

  The sky remains gray.

  It is all a vivid reflection of the true spirit of England…

  The people who continue to live in poverty. The crime which runs rampant throughout these endless hills and valleys. The Plague which still takes a few unfortunate souls in the remote parts of this land. The knights…

  I have accepted that until England is cleansed, it will remain beneath the shadow of darkness.

  The birds have not woken me from my slumber in quite some time.

 
Still, every night since then my ghost orchid glows even though Raven Forest has been calm. In the middle of the night, I often wake and unwrap my dead flower from the handkerchief it has been wrapped in for as long as I can remember and gaze at it, feeling protective of it and often wondering why it glows.

  I tell no one of these occurrences…

  The squeak of a rat as it scurries over my shoe causes me to jump and yanks me back in the present.

  Alexander’s fingers curl around my wrist, pulling me away from the creature and then, with a swift kick delivered with his big boot, he sends the rodent flying across this filthy chamber where it hits the wall. “These bloody rats.”

  I examine the mass of them in a corner of the chamber and swallow down the bile which threatens to shoot right out of my throat if I don’t get a handle on myself very soon.

  Are these rats any different than the ones which carry the Plague?

  They must be.

  Perhaps, they’re already dead?

  Are far as I can tell, Terra cooks them, she boils them in her pots, and judging by the entrails in the middle of the empty plate which rests on a table across the room, she also eats them for dinner.

  Just revolting.

  “It’s so nice of the two of you to visit me.” Smiling, Terra nods Alexander’s way. “Your Majesty…”

  “Oh, please, Terra, don’t bore us with pleasantries.” Alexander stomps across the chamber. “You know why we came here.” He faces Terra.

  “You came here because you are hoping that I can tell you more…”

  Alexander’s brows crash together.

  “But, I cannot, Your Majesty.”

  His scowl deepens.

  “How are you sleeping, Your Majesty?” Terra shuffles over to her pot which always seems to be boiling. The flames beneath it never seem to go out. They burn and burn and burn, much like the inferno in my nightmares does. “It is important that a man such as yourself gets adequate rest.”

  “I am not sleeping at all.” With pain sketched across his features, his gaze swings to mine.

  I say nothing at all but a vivid memory from a few nights ago of his fingers twisting in my gown and his body covered in sweat and shuddering next to mine serves as a reminder of the nightly torment he endures.

  Only he isn’t alone in that anymore…

  “You are in his nightmares now…” Terra gives me a long look.