Rule (Roam Series, Book Five)

by Stedronsky, Kimberly

  “I really don’t like to sleep… in anything. But… I guess you didn’t need to know that.” I tightened the sheet over my breasts, glaring at him. “Okay, juice.”

  “Good girl.”

  After one sip of the liquid, I gagged. “There’s alcohol in this!”

  “Just a small amount. Let your body deal with this new alcohol, and forget about the old.”

  “Did you learn that in medieval medical school?” I shook my head, taking another long drink and gagging again.

  “No, I learned that from experience. However, the hangover for an immortal is quickly remedied in little time.”

  “Of course.” That’s why I’ve never felt like this before. I threw my hand up in the air, shoving the drink at him. “Take. This. Disgusting. Shit.”

  “Language, Eva.”

  “We’re alone!” I cried, gesturing toward the vast, empty chamber. Only then did I realize the room was completely different from the one I’d spent the evening in, preparing for the feast. “Is this your bedroom?”

  “Yes.”

  “And we… didn’t have sex.”

  “No.” He sat up, placing the glass on the table at his side. He was fully dressed, already showered and freshly shaved. The first two buttons of his shirt were undone, and I blinked, turning away from the enthralling view of his chest.

  We almost kissed, though, I remembered, sliding my fingers over my throat as I stared at him.

  “Are you… sure?”

  “Quite.” His eyes swept over me, and he stiffened. “I’m going to send the maids in for you to bathe-…,”

  “Wait,” I held my head, knowing without looking in the mirror that my hair was in a knotted mess. “I don’t want them to see me… weak… like this. Could you just give me a hand to the bathroom?”

  “Eva…,”

  “I want you to tell me more about last night, anyway. You know- the shooter. I know I got him.”

  “If by ‘got him’ you mean you unarmed your king, deprived me of my weapon, and shot into a crowd of more than one hundred people, you are correct.”

  “He was going to fire!”

  He reached for the bottom of the sheet, near my toes, and yanked the fabric until it was free from the bed. Wrapping me securely, he scooped me up and against his chest.

  “I know.”

  I held the sheet firmly over my breasts, working through my nausea to appreciate his strong arms. The memory of his lips lingering over mine stirred my disjointed thoughts.

  “You were… asking me questions last night… You asked me if I had another motive for being here?” I remembered suddenly.

  He lowered his face and must have seen the hurt in my eyes. “You assured me that you didn’t. I believe you.”

  “What motive could I have? I’ve been happily living my life until about forty-eight hours ago, when you showed up, ruining everything.”

  “Happily living your life?” He held me in one arm, turning the shower faucet on with the other.

  “Well, happily enough.”

  “As you saw last night, any mutiny, no matter how trivial, cannot be tolerated. We don’t believe that the assassin last night was working alone.”

  “Who was he working for then?”

  “My sister.”

  The hot water stream beckoned. I balanced on shaking legs as he set me to the marble floor. “Turn around. I’m not done talking to you, but I’m getting in that water.”

  He turned, allowing me to drop the sheet and back into the lavish shower stall. Once the door was closed securely, I made sure the beige-frosted glass distorted my view of him- and his of me.

  “My sister, Meredith, was abused by my father, and kept as a prisoner in the dungeon for years. Upon my father’s death, I released her, but banished her to a land that specializes in housing the criminally insane.”

  “Like Australia, in the seventeen-hundreds?”

  He nodded at my reference. “Australia was forced to take Britain’s convicts. Shanderlund accepts mentally ill criminals into a rehabilitation system.”

  “Will, are you going to be grossed out if I puke in this shower?”

  He was silent for a moment. Finally, his blurry figure shrugged through the glass. “I have a strong continence.” He repeated my words from last night, and I smirked, thankful that the urge to gag began to dissipate.

  “Can you get my shampoo and conditioner, from my bag? I need the anti-frizz stuff.”

  “Of course.”

  He disappeared for a moment, and then stuck his hand over the top of the shower. He’s so tall. “Thank you,” I called. “Really, thank you. I don’t want those women to see me like this. I value my tough-girl reputation. Go on.”

  He laughed softly, and the sound of his deep voice fortified my confidence. “I believe Eric is quite infatuated with you. Once we are married and you are older, I can arrange for his company discreetly… if you would like.”

  I froze, still working the shampoo through my hair. Did he just offer to pimp me out to his soldier?

  “Repeat yourself.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Did you just offer to hook me up with Eric?”

  “I said if you would like. He’s a sharp-shooter. You have much in common.”

  I watched the last of the shampoo snake down the drain at my toes. Reaching for the conditioner, I fought the urge to open the door and slap my wet hand across the face.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I managed tightly, hoping my attempt at flippancy masked the resentment and hurt in my voice.

  “Have I offended you?”

  “Nope. So, mental kingdom. Evil twin sister. Uprising. Go on.”

  He cleared his throat. “Meredith feels that she deserves the throne. She has no intention of ruling peacefully at my side. Gabrielle imposed no threat; she is not of royal lineage, and therefore would hold no stake in the throne if challenged by Meredith. You, however, are daughter of the ancient queen… bringer of the sun. There is no way my people would accept Meredith over you. Especially now.”

  “What does that mean, ‘especially now’?” I scrubbed my body with the bottle of vanilla-scented wash, trying not to gag at the aroma.

  “Your popularity has tripled over night. Those who already welcomed you as princess now long for your rule as queen. Those who were uncertain of your qualifications or intentions were swayed by your ‘dramatic rescue of our lord and sovereign.’”

  I turned off the water, raising my eyebrows at the door. “They think I saved your life?”

  “You may have.” He opened to door, his face blocked by an oversized, beige towel. Wrapping me inside the plush linen, he tucked me against his chest. “I’m very proud of you, Eva.”

  His words, combined with the fact that I was completely naked and overheated from the shower, sent me into a dizzying pool of desire. Reaching for him, I balanced on my tip-toes, closing my eyes. “How about a thank-you kiss?”

  He stiffened and backed out of my arms. “I may be immortal, but I have human weaknesses. Your maids should be in here with you.”

  I felt the rage boiling inside, and my mouth moved on its own accord. “Yeah, Blondie wouldn’t be too happy about you kissing me, would she.”

  “Eva.” His pained expression was satisfying- a little.

  “Okay, send in my maids. What time is the wedding?”

  “Five o’clock.”

  “See you then.” Marching to the sink, I reached for my toothbrush, thankful he’d retrieved it along with my shampoo and conditioner. My gums bled beneath the force of my severe brushing.

  “Eva,” he repeated my name, and I tried to ignore the way my heart jumped every time he said it. Spitting and rinsing my mouth, I straightened, watching him through the mirror. “You are incredibly beautiful, and so very desirable. Last night, I had no intention of using your condition to my advantage. Your head was unclear.”

  “My head is perfectly clear now,” I gripped the towel around my body, turning around and taking
a step toward him. “And I don’t want Eric, or anyone else. And I don’t want you to kiss Gabrielle anymore.”

  My childish demands were met with agitation; I watched his jaw tighten. My mother’s reproving words haunted me with guilt. Let him make his own choices.

  “You desire a traditional arrangement, then?” He asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

  “If by traditional you mean monogamous, then yes.”

  “You wish to be my wife and queen, in every way.”

  I watched his eyes darken with wanting; I shivered at a cold, wet drop of water that slid down my back from my hair.

  “Every way?”

  His breathing doubled at my words.

  “Eva,” he exhaled my name, cupping my face in his hands. “You are bewitching.”

  I moistened my lips, leaning into him. “Ask me to be your wife, and mean it,” I ordered.

  “Be my wife,” he responded immediately, backing me against the door.

  Not really a question, but it will do.

  “Okay,” I whispered, staring at his lips.

  This time, his touch was nowhere near gentle.

  Tilting my head just slightly, he allowed himself full access to my mouth. As if changing his mind at the last second, his lips lowered to my neck, his fingers sliding into my damp hair. He held my face steady as his mouth closed over my bare, wet neck. When his tongue suckled against my skin, I made a sound that I couldn’t believe came from my own throat.

  His teeth closed over my skin, just barely, as his other hand slid down over my shoulder to tug at the thin fabric of the towel. I moaned, gripping the last barrier between us with all of my strength.

  Bones disintegrated in my knees; my body readied itself for him.

  “I want… you…,” I admitted, struggling to breathe evenly. “More, Will,” I begged.

  “My God, Eva,” he mouthed, his tongue sliding against the burning skin on my neck.

  “Your majesty.”

  Eric’s knock on the bedroom door shocked us both out of the humid fog. He moved away and straightened his shirt, buttoning the top two eyelets before hurrying out of the bathroom.

  I backed against the wall, gripping the towel and trying desperately to even my breathing. What am I agreeing to do? He’s a king. What do I want from him?

  He’s not just a king… he’s Will.

  Smiling to myself, I breathed deeply.

  I want him to love me.

  “I want to call my mom,” I realized, out-loud, sinking to sit on the bathroom floor.

  Chapter Eight

  “Grandfather,” I murmured, accepting his gentle arms around me.

  Henry Asher took a step back, holding my face in his hands. “You have grown, lass. So very beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” I smiled, holding his hands in mine. He was hundreds of years old, but I guessed he’d become immortal in his early eighties. Long, white hair matched an equally long beard in texture and color, and his frame barely supported the weight of his clothing. His eyes were a clouded shade of my father’s, misted with emotion.

  “We have waited a very long time for you.”

  “I hear I’m pretty important,” I teased, giving Will a sideways glance.

  “Your father has sacrificed much.” He gathered my hand in his, turning to lead me toward the sitting area in Will’s office. “I wish to speak with you. Will you sit with me?”

  “Of course,” I looked to Will again, and he gave an approving smile.

  “I’ll leave you alone-…,”

  “Your majesty. Please. Stay; listen.”

  “Thank you,” Will sat next to me on the couch, and my grandfather took the high-backed chair near the window.

  After Will’s ardent attack on my neck in the bathroom, I let the Hens fuss over me for more than an hour before practically running to find him. They’d managed to position my hair into an elegant arrangement of twists and curls that surprised even me. The gowns had been altered overnight, and the one that I chose was cream colored with gold trim. When I discovered that my wedding gown was ice blue, I’d nearly protested.

  “Blue is tradition, highness,” Mother Hen had defended.

  I relented. Choose your battles, Eva.

  “I used to dream about you,” I began. He nodded fondly, smiling.

  “What do you know of your existence, child?”

  Taken aback by his question, I widened my eyes. “You mean, my parents?”

  “The prophecy, your parents, and your origin.”

  “I… I was born, and ended up here by some magic, and my parents came to rescue me?”

  He shook his head, his feeble hands gripping the balled end of a long, hand-carved walking stick. “You were born in your world, in 1955. When your mother gave birth to you, she was called Anastasia.”

  I heard his words, but my mind refused to register. My middle name… Anastasia… Turning to Will, I gave him an inquisitive glance. Is he sane?

  “From what I understand, Annie’s grandmother had very red hair,” Will answered, nodding to me.

  I turned back to Grandfather. “Will you please start at the beginning? I guess… to answer your question… I know very little about my existence.”

  He sat back, clearing his throat. Will held his hand up in a waving gesture, and a servant waiting near the door scurried to what appeared to be an elaborate water cooler. Asher was presented with a glass of water in seconds.

  All with the wave of his hand… like me. I moved closer to Will, strangely reassured by his power.

  “Troy’s father died in battle. As the only child and successor to the throne, he accepted the crown at twelve years old. His advisors became his family, and he passed many laws that are still in effect today.”

  “At seventeen, a betrothal agreement was drawn up between Icepond and Madreenon, a neighboring kingdom, unifying Troy and their princess, Roamina. Mina was sixteen years old.”

  “My mom?” I asked, and Grandfather took a long sip of water, nodding once.

  “Yes, your mother. At first sight, Troy was besotted. Your mother, with her emerald eyes and many shades of long, dark hair, was sought as a prize by wealthy kingdoms for their unwed princes. There were some who believed her to be a witch… but mostly, those were females, very jealous of her beauty.”

  “Just before the wedding, an illegitimate son of the king presented himself to Troy. Leo, Troy’s half brother, was welcomed into the kingdom. Troy longed for family, and had his younger brother’s legitimacy declared publicly. His advisors strongly cautioned him; succession was never an issue until Leo’s legitimacy was acknowledged, and Troy created the threat for himself.”

  “Leo… Logan?” I interrupted.

  “Yes.” He focused on me. “Mina was known for her immense intelligence, short temper, and unsurpassed skills with the sword. She resisted Troy’s affection from the very beginning. Whispers began about her indiscretion, and soon Leo’s name accompanied Mina’s as the gossip progressed.”

  “Leo was plotting for the throne, and he’d planned to convince Mina to help him betray the king. They were found in each other’s arms by Troy, and were both brought before the court for punishment.”

  “Death,” I breathed, reaching for Will’s hand. He took my fingers in his, lifting them to his lips in a comforting kiss.

  “Leo accused your mother of witchcraft. Troy, betrayed but very young and in love with your mother, allowed Leo to be free and ordered Mina to be whipped. Her punishment was sixteen lashes… one for every year of her life.”

  “That’s so horrible,” I ran my thumb over Will’s palm, my anger rising.

  “Troy meant to keep her infidelity out of the public eye. He ordered her punishment to be carried out by his first knight… my son.”

  “My dad?”

  “West could not bring himself to strike her, though his life depended on his obedience. He took Mina to me, asking me to cast a spell that would give her injury… without pain. I gave her the sixteen l
ashes on her back, though she felt not one of them.”

  “Wow,” I mouthed, utterly enthralled by his story.

  “She fell in love with him, and he with her. Their love was palpable; no amount of time, or separation, or self-control could stop what had been set in motion. They conceived a child in the very beginning, and found happiness in their clandestine union.”

  “In the end, it was Leo who betrayed them.” I could tell that my grandfather was becoming emotional. “Still vying for the throne, he turned them in to Troy as a way to win his brother’s favor once more.”

  “When Mina told him that the child in her womb was not his, Troy became enraged. He sentenced them all to death. Mina was to be first, so that Leo and West would watch her die. Leo next, and West last.”

  “I created a spell to give Mina and West immortality; the spell required an alter sacrifice. Two opposing counterparts were given immortality as well… a penance for casting eternal life. My spell was too late for Mina and Leo- only their souls were cast immortal.”

  “Trying to save my son from an immortal existence of heartache, I opened a portal into another world. Contrary to history, I did not ‘split’ this world or create your universe; I merely opened the door that would allow your father to escape.”

  “My dad must have been so heartbroken. He loves my mom like crazy.” I thought of my father’s face, his controlled patience with me. I could have been better behaved. He’s given me everything I’ve ever wanted.

  God, I miss them.

  “There, there, lass,” Grandfather tilted his head sympathetically. “They are together now.”

  “So my dad escaped, and my mom was born again… reincarnated… into my world?”

  “Yes.” He took another long drink, his shaking hands struggling with the glass. Will moved quickly to his feet, gathering the glass from Grandfather and placing it on the table. I watched him grasp the old man’s shoulder gently before returning to my side.

  “Shall we take a respite, before we continue?” Will lifted his eyes to him, but Grandfather shook his head.

  “I have waited for hundreds of years.” He sat back, his eyes returning to me. “Troy remembered what had happened. Leo and Mina, as new children, did not. Troy discovered my magic, and ordered my execution.”