by Ella Ardent
His words irked me, for the Royce I knew would not have chosen his own satisfaction over all else. “Then maybe she will fail to be charmed by you, sir,” I said, my own tone harsh. He stared at me, surprised and I arched a brow. “Maybe the one you choose will decline you.”
“She has no such choice,” he insisted and I saw his anger with the suggestion. “All agreed to the terms by crossing the threshold of this palace.”
The music came to its conclusion with a flourish and we halted in the middle of the floor. He was angry, very angry, but so was I. I lifted my chin. “The night is not yet over, sir.”
“My choice is not yet made.”
“So you don’t yet know whether the maiden you choose will cede to you, after all. What great entertainment it would make for all these guests if you were denied, sir.”
I held his gaze, for I wanted to provoke him. I wanted to bring back the Royce I knew, for if he was banished forever, then I had no desire for this imperious man who had taken his likeness and his place.
He was startled by my audacity. I could fairly taste his shock—and his displeasure. But I didn’t back down and I didn’t apologize. The company was struck silent as they stared, but then they didn’t know what we had said to each other.
There was a tension between us, as if lightning was preparing to strike, then his eyes flashed and he turned away from me. He invited Maligna to dance, much to her delight and I retreated to the perimeter, ignoring the whispers of speculation. I knew my color was high, but I was angry with Royce. I even accepted a glass of that wine filled with golden bubbles and sipped of it. It was cool and soothed me slightly.
That Maligna clearly repulsed Royce reassured me yet more that the man I knew was trapped within the prince he had become.
What had changed him?
Why did he tolerate it?
What could I do to help him?
Could I convince him to kiss the red mark on my breast again?
Would it matter if he did?
A man cleared his throat behind me an eternity later, and I jumped when I felt a heavy fingertip slide down my spine. “They have been hiding the beauties in the village,” he said and I turned to find the king behind me, his expression cool. “I do not know you,” he said, a challenge in his voice and in his eyes.
My voice escaped me for a moment, for I did fear the king and his wrath. I glanced over the room, seeking a suitable reply, and noticed that seated at the high table alone, was a woman who had to be the queen. I guessed her title by her crown, her solitude, and the way she glared at the king. It was striking that she looked so much older than he did. I had thought that she was younger, but then, I had only seen her once in a royal procession when I was very small. The king was oblivious to her, his back to that high table and his gaze locked upon me.
I imagined he was oblivious to his queen most of the time, for that seemed good justification for her anger in seeing him talk to me.
I smiled for my sovereign, knowing it would be folly to offend him, even inadvertently. “Of course, you do, your majesty, but no one takes note of me in my usual attire.”
His gaze brightened then. “Do you resemble your mother?”
“It has been said that I do, your majesty, although she has been dead these ten years.”
He nodded slightly. “And your father has remarried.”
“He has, your majesty,” I admitted, certain that my identity was known.
“Does Felix know you are here?”
My heart rose to my throat, for I was anonymous no longer. The king had guessed my name and I had no notion whether he would reveal me or not. It was impossible to say what might amuse him. I curtseyed again, hoping that obeisance would temper his whim. “He is away on one of his journeys, your majesty. I do not doubt that he will return with many marvels for your perusal and pleasure.”
The king smiled. “Nor do I.” His voice dropped low and he walked around me, the intensity of his perusal making my skin prickle. “But you are a marvel he has been hiding from me.”
There was a warning in his words, and I felt alarm. “No, your majesty, that is not the case,” I said, only realizing after I’d uttered the words that I was correcting the king. I blushed but continued. “I serve my stepmother and sisters and have little time to indulge myself.”
I was well aware that Blondina and Maligna were not far away and that they both were taking note of the exchange. Did they simply watch the king, or did they recognize me? I was fearful then of repercussions to be borne on my return home and the king seemed to notice my agitation.
“And so on this night, you are to be indulged.”
“I am most grateful for the opportunity, your majesty,” I said and curtseyed once more. He watched me avidly.
“You have your mother’s grace, as well as her beauty,” he said quietly. “If my son does not choose you on this night, you will come to my chamber instead.”
At his crisp command, all the blood left my face. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what would occur there, and I didn’t know whether there would be shame for having been sampled by the king. I’d thought that only one of us would lose our maidenhead this night, but now I looked over the watchful aristocrats and wondered if any would return home unsullied.
The queen was yet glaring at the king and me, the hatred in her expression palpable even at a distance. I began to understand what she resented so very much.
“I have given you a command, Eleanor,” the king reminded me, his tone resolute.
“Yes, your majesty. Of course, your majesty.” I curtseyed again, hoping with all my heart that Royce would choose me. The king turned away, moving to chat with one of his guests, although I felt his gaze flick to me repeatedly. I also saw that he was limping, something I’d never noticed before.
He must have done himself an injury.
Which made me think that he was not so young anymore.
How soon would Royce be king?
I let the wine touch my lips but could drink no more. I set aside the glass, for I feared I would need all my wits this night.
Queen Ruby continued to watch me with open dislike, even though the king had moved on. I could feel her anger like a weight pressing upon me. I turned my back to her, as if surveying the merry crowd, and spied Maligna moving toward me with purpose. Undoubtedly, she was determined to name me and out me, and I had a moment to see my evening descending to ruins before Royce appeared at my side again. He offered his hand and my heart leaped as I placed my hand in his. I smiled at him, and that appeared to relieve him.
“Anna?” he guessed.
“No, sir.”
“Adela?”
I shook my head again.
“Althea? Alyssa? Angela? Arabella? Aurelia?”
I shook my head after each one. “None of those, sir.”
Royce lifted his other hand and a servant put a chalice of wine into his grasp. He stared at me as he drained it, then handed off the chalice again. Once more, he pulled me tightly against him, and as much as I loved being crushed in his arms, I disliked the glint in his eyes. Why couldn’t it be my Royce who held me closely?
How could I convince him to kiss the mark?
“Does the line form for your favors?” he whispered in my ear as we began to dance. “In case I spurn your charms?”
“The king commands that I come to his chamber if you choose another.”
Royce’s lips thinned. “I will not,” he vowed, his gaze locking with mine. “You will be mine and mine alone.”
As exciting as I found his declaration, there was something troubling about his conviction. “Is a mating not sweeter when it is merry, sir?”
“A crown prince, like a king, is merry when his will is served, and that without question or delay.”
“What if I declined you? Would I be compelled to accept your father, then?”
“It appears so. You will not be a maiden by the dawn, either way.”
I pulled back a little, hearing somet
hing of the king’s manner in Royce, but he raised his hand and caught my nape in his grasp. I felt small and fragile, easily broken, and the glint in his eyes made my innate trust of him falter, just a little.
“You are mine,” he said. “Tell me so.”
“I will only be yours, sir, if you kiss the mark upon my breast again,” I whispered, my pulse racing.
He smiled. “The price is so low as that? A single kiss?”
“A single kiss in the right place, and at my request.”
He surveyed me, assessment in his eyes. “Who is monarch and who is vassal?”
“I suspect that in the bedchamber, it is oft unclear who is master and who is slave.”
“A comment that shows your innocence more than anything else.”
“Do you keep slaves for your pleasure, sir?”
“I have two,” he said, and I didn’t like that admission at all. In fact, it shocked me, but before I could protest, I heard the tune coming to an end. He very deliberately danced me to the perimeter of the dance floor at a point opposite his father. That was no accident and it didn’t displease me in the least. “I will consider your petition. Bella?”
“No, sir.”
“Beatrice? Bernice? Blanche...”
“That name would have been a poor choice, given my coloring, sir. I doubt my parents were so blind as that.”
He arched a brow. “Celeste?”
I smiled at the implied compliment and shook my head. “No, sir.”
He bowed over my hand once more, then left me flustered at the side of the dance floor. He danced with each of the maidens from the forest, the three I knew by sight and name. I stood waiting, hoping, yearning and fearing, as he danced with Sylvie again, then Flora and Tilda. He even danced with Blondina, though she trod on his feet repeatedly and I saw him wince.
When he invited Maligna to dance again, she visibly gloated at his attention and glared at me. It was clear that she thought herself worthy of his attentions. Thus far, she, I, and Sylvie had shared two dances with him.
The music halted.
The aristocrats finalized their wagers.
Royce stood in the middle of the ballroom, and I realized that he’d ensured all three of us stood within reasonable proximity of each other. Maligna was flushed from her dance but intent upon him. Sylvie smiled with radiant confidence. I knotted my hands together, suspecting I had pushed him too far.
The music began, a soaring tune fit for a prince’s triumph.
Royce strode toward the three of us with purpose.
Relief nearly took me to my knees when he halted before me, with fire in his eyes. “Dance?” he invited, offering his hand. Maligna muttered a curse beneath her breath. Sylvie exhaled with indignation. The king’s guests laughed and paid their bets, the coins jingling noisily behind me.
Royce led me to the middle of the floor and spun me around, as if showing me off to everyone in attendance. He pulled me into his arms, then bent and reverently touched his lips to the red mark over my heart.
I’m sure he felt my heart leap beneath his caress.
But when he looked up at me, there was a familiar twinkle in his eyes, a glimmer of mischief that reassured me as nothing else could have done. “If you will have me,” he whispered for my ears alone.
“How could I deny a man who satisfies my whim?” I asked and he laughed aloud. The music began and we danced together, each as delighted as the other. It was a glorious quick dance but one that left my heart thumping and my cheeks flushed. The musicians had the wits to play a shorter dance, for Royce’s desire was clear to all.
When the music faded, he caught my face in his hands and lifted me to my toes. He kissed me, a potent and plundering kiss that made his salute of the previous night look like a child’s embrace. And when I was shaken and disheveled, my heart racing and my desire soaring, he lifted his head and surveyed me with a smile.
“My captive and my prize,” he declared with an authority that made me shiver.
I stepped back to curtsey before him. The guests applauded loudly.
I might have been fearful of the night ahead, but the man I knew best was back. I trusted him completely.
“Your slave, my prince,” I said.
“That you are,” he agreed with a dangerous smile.
The king clapped his hands and the company fell silent. “The crown prince has chosen his pet. Let us all hope to find as pretty a prize to keep us warm this night.”
The guests laughed and applauded, then the music began again. Conversation broke out on all sides, and I smelled food being brought from the kitchens for a late feast.
Our feast would be of a different kind, however.
I had a glimpse of the triumph in Royce’s expression before he cast me over his shoulder and strode for the stairs. He locked one arm around my knees and took the stairs three at a time as the king’s guests roared their approval. I looked back to see that the king’s expression had become guarded, then I felt Royce’s touch on my wet sex.
I jumped a little and realized that the daughter of the emperor of Imperium was watching our departure with displeasure.
Then Royce’s finger slid over my labia in a slow caress. I gasped at the sensation, so thrilling and yet so forbidden, and he laughed aloud.
“Fear not, my prize,” he murmured. “We shall both be satisfied soon enough.”
He stroked me so gently that I couldn’t believe my earlier trepidation had any foundation.
Before the dawn, I would learn the magnitude of my mistake.
There was a cage in Royce’s bedchamber, a cage remarkably like the one that Marta had used for the birds. This cage was empty, but it stretched to the ceiling, shining golden in the light cast by the fire. The bars were so close together that I could not have put more than my hand between them.
Its presence gave me a bad feeling.
It could not have been intended for birds.
The room was large and lit by a dozen fat candles, as well as the fire that blazed upon the hearth. It was warm, and the darkness beyond the windows seemed a thousand leagues away.
I surveyed the splendid room quickly, then stared at the cage, transfixed by its presence and fearing its purpose. Royce dismissed the servants and locked the door behind us. It sounded like a portent, the tumbling of the lock, and I glanced over my shoulder at the sound.
To my relief, there was only admiration in his eyes, not a hint of that shadow. Still, I swallowed when he stepped toward me.
“What do you know of matters between man and woman?” he asked, catching my hand in his as if we would dance again.
“I live in the village, sir,” I replied, keeping my tone light. “I have seen the animals in the spring.”
He laughed a little, still leading me in a dance to no music, then kissed me below my ear. “I hope it is more romantic than that.”
“So do I, sir.”
He slid one hand up my back from my waist, then let his fingers tangle in my hair. His touch was both admiring and possessive. I kept my hand on his shoulder, and my other hand was still captive in his grasp. We danced, gazes locked, my breasts brushing across his chest. It seemed I couldn’t take a full breath and I felt my pulse in my sex. The bed was large and close, his arousal obvious when our bodies touched.
“Your pearls are unusual,” he whispered, then bent and slid his tongue along the length of them, ending his caress at my ear lobe. My head fell back at the pleasure his touch awakened in me and I felt my lips part. He grazed my ear with his teeth and I heard myself gasp. “Very unusual.”
I recalled his words with an effort. “I like them for that, sir.”
“There is appeal in the rare and wondrous, to be sure.” He put my other hand on his shoulder, then reached up to unfasten my hair. We halted, between the blazing fire and the broad bed, his hands making quick work of setting my hair loose. He smiled when the length of it cascaded over my shoulders, then pushed his fingers through it. “The sea is distant, though.
Where did you get them?”
“They were a gift, sir.”
I won a dangerous look for that. “Another admirer?”
“No, sir. A legacy.”
My answer pleased him, as was clear by his quick smile. He looked over me again, his gaze burning, then tugged me closer. One hand was still at my nape, holding me captive against his chair. “Clasp your hands behind your back,” he instructed and I did as I was told. “Now lean back, putting your weight upon my hand,” he murmured. “Prove that you trust me.”
I complied, arching and leaning back, so that only his sure grip kept me from tumbling backward. He smiled as he surveyed me, then his free hand slid over me from shoulder to hip. He cupped my breast then, and caught my nipple between his finger and thumb, squeezing it and rolling it so that I gasped and it tightened to a hard peak.
“You like this?”
“I do, sir.”
“Why? How does it make you feel?”
“Claimed,” I said without thinking. “Conquered.”
“And so you are,” he agreed, then bent to capture my lips beneath his own. This third kiss was the longest and the hungriest yet, at turns demanding and seductive, plundering and possessive. I closed my eyes and welcomed his touch, his fingers making me writhe and his grip holding me fast. I could have been floating, trapped by pleasure, and truly there was nowhere else I yearned to be. How could anyone resist such a marvel as this?
When he lifted his head, I know I was flushed and my breathing was quick. My nipples were hard and my sex was wet. I was his for the taking and Royce knew it well. “Name?” he murmured in my ear, nibbling the tender skin there and sending shivers over my skin.
“Never,” I said, my voice catching.
“That can’t be it,” he purred. “There is no one named Never in the village.”
I might have laughed but he caught my nipple in his mouth and nipped at the tight peak, making me gasp at the tingle that shot through my body. He held the nipple between his teeth and flicked his tongue against it, making me twist and moan beneath his weight.
“Name?” he invited again.
“Pet,” I gasped and he laughed. He turned his attention on the other breast, his beguiling touch emptying my thoughts of anything but his sure touch. One hand was between us, his wicked fingers taking up the torment of my sex where his tongue had left off. I was hot and I was cold. I was shivering and shaking. I needed something I couldn’t name and I knew that Royce alone could give it to me.