by Auryn Hadley
The King smiled and tilted his head to the sword on the Lion's hip. "I wouldn't complain if your son inherits that. You have at least three weeks alone with my daughter, a girl who just told the entire court she's no longer a maiden. Don't be stupid."
"She isn't exactly the kind of woman a man tumbles once in the hay loft." Tristan looked up, searching the ceiling for words. "You think it's going to do her any favors if I use her like that, then just try to pretend it didn't happen?"
"Use? Tristan, loving someone is very different from using them, and I'd kinda like to know my little girl has a man who honestly deserves her."
"I can't."
"Why not?" the king shot back. "What's stopping you, boy? Her father is sitting here telling you it's ok, and you're still saying no?"
Tristan just ducked his head and laughed softly. "No offense, sire, but fuck the king and what he wants." He looked up, catching the old man's eyes. "I'm not going to rut on the Princess like she's some prize to be won."
"Most men would." Ilario smiled. "So what's stopping you?"
"Don't you think the court would have some complaints?"
"Her Secor is above rebuke. His position requires certain familiarities of his charge. Let them guess, Tristan. Let them wonder. Play it right and they'll never quite be sure. What's stopping you, boy?"
"I'm just her friend." He waved that away. "I kept her alive, and we've had a few laughs."
"Which is more than anyone else has ever given her."
"She lives in the palace!" Tristan gestured to the expensive furnishings around them. "Ley's grown up with everything she's ever wanted."
"Sure, except honesty." Ilario shrugged. "What good is gold when you're too busy watching your back to enjoy any of it?"
Grabbing his glass, Tristan took a sip, his mind whirling. He felt like someone was playing a joke on him. Like any minute he'd wake up to find the entire court laughing, and he'd be sent back to Lenlochlien, far away from his girl. This didn't happen to men like him. This was the sort of thing poets wrote about, not what happened to a poor blacksmith who fell into debt.
So he decided to just be honest. "I love her too much, sire."
"Do you? Do you love her enough to be there when she needs it, even if that means waiting while she gets pregnant with some other man's child? Do you love her enough to make her happy, even when it hurts more than any sword? Do you love her enough to tell her?"
Tristan's eyes were locked on the expensive rug under the table. "I don't know." He didn't try to make it sound impressive. He was tired of trying to guess what he was supposed to say. Sitting across from the King of Norihame, Tristan finally had someone willing to listen and the words tumbled out. "I just wish she wasn't the Princess. I want to marry her, build a home, raise a family, and watch her grow old with me. We made it this far, and now..." He closed his eyes and sighed. "And now, all I can be is her friend."
"That's usually how it starts." Ilario reached over and patted his arm. "It's also exactly what she needs. If you love her, stop pushing her away. Above all, just make my little girl happy?"
"I'm not used to wading through noble waters," he admitted. "Ilario, I respect you, but I keep trying to find the trap."
He chuckled and pushed the glass closer to Tristan's hand. "Oh, there's plenty of those, but Leyli will spot them long before either of us could. We did good with her, boy. I made her brilliant and you made her strong. She'll be the greatest ruler this country's ever had. I searched all week for a way to make you eligible, but it doesn't exist. The best I can do is give you my blessing. You have it, and I'll do my damnedest to keep the noble hounds at bay. Just take care of my girl, and let an old man know that someone loves his daughter."
"Is that why you called me in here?"
Ilario nodded. "Yeah. The maid's death is inconvenient, but only helps my cause. Leyli refused Palino in public today and the poor girl paid for it. I need her as far from the palace as possible and Lenlochlien is quite a ways away. I won't be opposed to a Lion in Wolf's clothing. Just let me know if we need to rush the wedding."
"Then I'm going to make sure I get this right." Tristan stood and offered the king his hand. "Thank you, Ilario. I can't imagine this talk was any easier for you than me."
"Doubt that. I remember talking to my father-in-law. Took a week to get my balls out of my throat. You don't have that much time."
Chapter 17
Armando had brought up a pitcher of beer and the guards were taking turns refilling Leyli's glass. That the Princess enjoyed it shocked them. Seeing her flushed and giggling from a few glasses too many was an opportunity they couldn't pass up. Temotio was enthusiastically taking advantage of it to win the game set before them. When Tristan walked into the room, she waved him over.
"Please tell your second that I am not drunk, and that move is not legal."
He bent to see her better. "Are you drunk, Ley?"
"No!" She groaned. "Ok, I probably shouldn't have any more unless I want an aching head in the morning, but no. That move still isn't legal."
Grinning, he turned to Temotio. "Are you cheating against the heir to the throne?"
"Oh yeah, sir. She's missed it a few times, already."
He nodded, then looked at the rest of the men. "And how much beer have you given her?"
Most of them found something important to distract them, but they couldn't hide the smiles. Armando just lifted his mug. "Least six glasses, sir. Figured it would help her sleep after the stress of the day."
"Mhm. Armando, take the dawn watch? If her head aches, I'd rather not suffer her wrath."
Leyli giggled. "Oh, doesn't work that way, Tristan. You'll be sitting in here with me."
He groaned. "And if you take it out on me, I'll take it out on him. Ley, we're going to need to find you a maid."
"Tristan!" Her voice had a hint of a whine in it, and the men chuckled, making her sigh. "They all want to lace me up until I can't breathe and tie my hair in knots. I packed my things for the trip already. There's no reason I can't manage without one."
He lifted a brow. "And who will lace your corsets? Or do you plan to let your breasts bounce the whole way to Lenlochlien?"
"You did fine today." She lifted her chin. "Or does seeing me undressed repulse you so much?"
He stuttered something and the men laughed. When he turned darker, they roared. Tristan pulled both hands down his face and shook his head. "Ley, you know the court will have a fit with that. I think we need to find you a maid."
"No." She crossed her arms and leaned back. "I can find one at the inns we stay at, and hopefully hire a girl who isn't warped by the culture of the palace. I'll make sure to talk to my father about it very loudly before we ride out." Then she stuck out her lower lip. "I just can't bear the thought of replacing Fiona so soon."
He chuckled, waving away her act. "Fine. I also have your list of potential husbands. Everton withdrew, Lanmont increased his offer, and Moyloch changed his almost completely. Rochdale amended that he'd assume the Aravatti name on the condition that his title is passed to his son before the wedding."
She smiled at that. "Which means they're interested. Good. Men, if you could listen to the gossip about the lords, especially Moyloch, I'd appreciate it. Rochdale is a close contender. I want to know the worst gossip you can find."
"Yes, Highness," Temotio said. "I must admit, I'm personally in favor of Moyloch's offer." He grinned, flicking his eyes to Tristan. "But if none of them are suitable, I'm sure Gregori and myself can come up with something you could live with."
Tristan's head snapped around and the men all laughed. Temotio stood, backing away with his hands up until he was near the door. Gregori, leaning against the side table, scratched at the late night stubble on his jaw. "'Prince Consort Gregori. Does that mean people would bow to me?"
"It does," Leyli assured him.
He grunted, pondering that. "Although, descending from an unlanded Boieret, I'm not sure how appealing my offer would be to N
orihame."
"Oh?" she asked. "And what offer would that be?"
He grinned. "I'd make sure you didn't just lay on your back and, I think the phrase was 'pray for conception'. Besides that, I've got nothing."
"Out!" Tristan said, pointing at the door. "I do not need your help corrupting the Princess. Get ready for a long trip." Then he sighed and dropped his voice. "It's going to be a very long trip."
Chuckling, the men made their way out of her sitting room. Temotio could be heard giving orders to the common guards outside her door, then their voices moved down the hall. Tristan sighed again, then flipped the lock.
"I'm not sure what would be worse, Temotio or Gregori as the Prince." He headed toward her bedroom and Leyli followed.
While he made sure all potential entrances were secure, she moved to her wardrobe. "I think Gregori. Temotio at least pretends to be proper in public."
The sound of the door to his room closing made her turn. Tristan leaned against it, watching her. "That's not what I meant."
Leyli licked her lips, feeling the change in his attitude. "What did you mean?"
He jerked his thumb behind him. "Laying in there wondering if you're enjoying fucking one of them, then having to look him in the eye the next day."
She swallowed. "Tristan, I have to marry. There's no other option."
"I know." He moved closer. "What are we doing, Ley?"
"I don't know," she breathed, looking up as his fingers slid into her hair.
He stepped even closer, pressing her back. "What are you doing, Ley?"
"Trying to be both a princess and an heir." She took a breath. "The only things important about me are my bloodline, my training, and my ability to make heirs."
"It's not." He leaned closer, his voice softer and deeper. "You're not just a placeholder. You're a gladiator, a noble, and the most competent ruler I can imagine. If you'd been born a man, we'd all cheer your name, but you weren't, so instead, we just love you."
"Love isn't a commodity that nobles trade in," she whispered.
"Doesn't mean they don't feel it." He searched her eyes. "If all you want is a bull, I'm sure we can find some attentive man to solve your problems. Gregori definitely wouldn't say no. Stop playing the Princess with me and give me back my Wolf."
"Have you ever seen noblemen kiss their wives?"
His eyes dropped to her mouth. His body was so damned close. "Yes. A brush of the lips, never anything more."
She was breathing harder, aware of the heat from his skin. "That's not how you kiss. You make me breathless and I feel like I'm burning. You kiss me like I matter, just me and nothing else."
"You kiss me like you want it. Like you don't want me to stop."
"I don't." She pressed her palm to his chest. "Tristan, I'm supposed to be faithful to my husband so my children can claim their ancestry without shame. That means I only get once."
"I can't do just once."
She sucked in a breath, aware he hadn't refused, and her fingers tightened on his shirt. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be anything but a proper wife."
"Shh," he whispered as his fingers gripped her hip, holding her body against his. "Your rules are different, now. None of that matters. Forget all of it, Ley, and just tell me what you dream of."
"I want it to be you." Her eyes flicked up. "Forever."
"Oh, Ley," he breathed, pulling back. "Always." He pulled the shirt over his head and caught her again, one hand on her waist, one cupping her face. "I want it to be me, too, but I can't do just once. I can't spend a night in your bed and then pretend it didn't happen."
"Will you still want me?" she asked, terrified of the answer. "Even when I'm married?"
His bent to her mouth. "More than life." Then he kissed her.
Gently, his lips brushed hers and she gave herself to it. Tristan pulled her closer, taking the invitation, murmuring when she clung to him. With each caress of his tongue, each glide of his lips, her fingers tightened on his muscles until they were all that held her on her feet. Slowly, he stepped back, guiding her across the room, his hands reaching for the laces of her robe.
"I have to practice tomorrow," she whispered.
He smiled before kissing her again. "No, you don't. The beer left you with an aching head."
"The stain on the sheets?"
"Proves that you're not pregnant. Ask the girls for the necessary supplies for your monthly courses, and none will think anything of it." He pulled the robe from her shoulders.
She caught the side of his face. "What if I get pregnant?"
He paused, looking deep into her eyes. "Three weeks is not enough time to worry. I certainly will not complain to see my daughter on the throne. Or my son, but the timing is wrong. Maybe after you're married."
She pulled her night dress over her head. "Tristan..."
He paused, letting his hands slide across her waist, his thumbs trailing the hard muscles in her abdomen. "Do we cross this line, pup? One more step and there's no going back."
She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "I think I love you, Tristan. I don't know what it's supposed to feel like, but I think this is it. I don't want a bull. I want you to hold me all night for the rest of my life."
A smile flickered on his lips and his eyes held hers, but he just nodded. "Every chance I can, beautiful. Every single one."
Then he caught her mouth again, his kisses delirious. Leyli moaned as she let go of her worries. Nothing mattered. The nobles thought she'd already done this. The nation wouldn't care. She had Tristan, and she'd keep him forever. His arm caught her back and he lowered her to the bed. She didn't try to fight, she didn't try to help. Her Lion would take care of her. He was the one man who could see her vulnerabilities and shield them from the world.
When his mouth moved down her neck, she sighed. When his kisses caressed her shoulders, she moaned. His hands worked at his boots but his tongue teased her skin. Leyli arched into it and he moved even lower, finding her breast. She gasped and grabbed at his head, but he chuckled softly.
"Get in bed, Ley. It's a lot harder to explain why your coverlet is stained than your sheets." With a smile, he pushed at his pants, his eyes drinking her in.
She pulled back the covers and he grabbed them, yanking the mess to the end. When she looked up, he crawled closer, his knees denting the mattress as he held her gaze. The look in his eyes was hungry.
"How do I do it right?" she asked.
His arm slid under her back, lifting her against his chest. "Do not scream or the guards will break down the door. Do not try to lay still. Kiss me, moan, or gasp, I don't care, but be the Wolf, not the Princess."
She giggled slightly, pressing her face into his shoulder. "And don't pray for conception."
"I don't give a fuck. You'd look so damned good pregnant with my child." He moved higher, sliding his hips between her legs. "Tonight, I just want to prove to you that you can't live without me."
"I can't," she whispered, reaching for his mouth.
Tristan kissed her, pressing her back into the bed. Over and over, his tongue tormented her, his bare skin hot against her body. His mouth claimed her neck, his hands worshiped her, but he didn't slide any higher. He devoured her, encouraging her to do the same, until she stopped worrying about what came next. Leyli became the Wolf, taking what she needed, no longer caring about what was proper. Tristan loved her. She loved him. Nothing else mattered. Her leg wrapped around his thigh, pulling him higher.
As his tongue distracted her, he shifted, until she felt him brushing her cleft. Leyli tensed when he slid against her, hitting nerves that made her moan. She tried to pull herself closer, but he held her with his weight, leaning back enough to see her face.
"Patience," he whispered.
"Gods, Tristan," she gasped. "Please."
He growled deep in his throat, his mouth crashed into hers, and he thrust. Leyli bucked, feeling the pinch as her virginity fled, but still he kissed her. "You're mine, Leyli, a
nd I'm going to enjoy you all damned night." As his hips rocked, she tossed her head back and moaned.
She was his, but he was hers. They loved like they danced, each body complimenting the other, filling the voids, until they were one. Each caress was a promise, each kiss a vow. He would never be her husband, but Tristan was so much more. He was her partner, her other half in all things. As he drove her body higher, she gave in and prayed, begging the gods that he'd never stop loving her.
Chapter 18
When the sun rose the next morning, they fell against each other, exhausted. Tristan held her until she started to doze, then kissed her sweetly before climbing from the bed. He gathered his things from the floor, picked up her clothes, and smiled as he headed to his room. Her bed felt empty without him, but she somehow managed to get some sleep. It wasn't enough.
When the guards knocked, announcing a maid, Tristan staggered into the sitting room half dressed. That he wasn't wearing his bracers said more than anything else. Leyli shifted in bed, then paused. She ached. Lifting the covers, she saw the stains and breathed a sigh of relief. It was a few days early, but the girls wouldn't be able to tell that it wasn't from her monthly flow. She hadn't been in the palace long enough for anyone to start counting for her.
They both played their part until breakfast was laid out and they were finally alone. When the door closed and the last servant left, Tristan moved to fill her glass, reaching over her shoulder to set it on the table.
"How do you feel, pup?" he whispered in her ear before kissing her neck.
She giggled and turned to him. "Please don't make me ride today."
"Mm. Maybe tonight." He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "And you can sleep this afternoon."
"With you?"
"Yeah," he said softly. "Just like this. You're going to have to make sure I don't start acting like some besotted fool."
"Maybe I like it?" She bit her lip mischievously.
He poked her ribs. "Maybe I don't like your guards getting ideas. You're all mine, Ley." He kissed her neck one more time.