The Princess of the Wild (The Royals of Adriel Book 2)

by Lorelei Orion

The sunlight faded and the shadows came, but they scarcely noticed, lost in their passion. Skye yielded to sleep only when her exhaustion overtook her, contented to—once again—be within the luxury of his arms.

  Chapter 16

  With the dawning of the new day Skye woke, finding herself alone in her bed. Her disappointment was mingled with her relief, for she didn’t want to become accustomed to sleeping with him, again. No matter the euphoria that she found in his embrace, she knew that her time with him must end. He was the Prince Royal of Adriel and would one day become the king of the entire world, and she was but a simple commoner. He surely must someday wed a woman of the aristocracy. There truly was no hope in crossing that vast cauldron of social standing. It was a thought that she would try to dismiss, for now ...

  Her wardrobe, the gift from Her Majesty, arrived in the mid-morning. The robust servants brought crates and crates into her suite. Marion trailed them, instructing them to bring the heavy burdens into the bedchamber, and the crate containers hovered a bit, moving slowly over the floor before the men set them to rest with the help of a remote. Marion gave them her gratitude, and Skye returned their smiling glances before they left the suite.

  Marion began opening the boxes and motioned for her to come near to see her new treasures. One was filled to the brim with nightwear—robes and gowns of every cloth and shade. The woman began moving them to the wardrobe in the nearby dressing room, finding their place. Skye helped her, wondering about the cost of such exquisite lingerie.

  She discovered that she should have watched Marion more closely while she had helped her choose her selections, for this wardrobe was far too excessive. There were dresses of every style and for every occasion imaginable, matched with all the accessories. There were leggings and shirts also—her familiar wear—and they were all made in the finest taste. She doubted that she’d be able to try all the delicate hats and shoes. She didn’t want the queen to think that she had a greedy guest on her hands, but what troubled her more was that the sheer number of the outfits warned of a long stay.

  She voiced her concerns to Marion. The woman smiled and said, “Don’t worry. Her Majesty wants to see you comfortable.”

  Still, she wanted to see to the condition of her locked accounts, so that she wouldn’t have to rely upon such royal generosity.

  When the garments were finally put away in their places, she followed the woman out of the suite. She paused at Nicholas’ door, wanting to speak to him about her accounts.

  Marion saw her and strode back to her. “He isn’t there,” she informed. “I saw him earlier, heading to his rooms.”

  Skye was confused. These were his rooms.

  The woman smiled. “He’s staying in the guest area only because you’re next door. He has a royal suite.”

  She wasn’t sure what to think about that ...

  “Come,” Marion said. “I’ll show you.”

  She followed her escort the good distance to the Royal Apartments. At one ornate door, the woman paused.

  “This is it,” she said, and with a wink, she left her alone to her business.

  Skye mustered up her determination to settle the matter of her helplessness and pressed the door’s bell. The chime rang inside, silent on her side, but he didn’t come to the door. She tried it again, and had the same outcome, and after the third time she decided to try the lock. It wasn’t locked. She opened the door and was assaulted with a blast of music that was formerly held back by the soundproofing. Cautiously she entered, shutting the door behind her.

  She was rather intimidated being in his private royal apartment, but she was on a mission, and if she could find the source of the music, there he would be. The song, one in the Tier Cascade genre, was an instrumental melody, a blend of harmony and rhythmic thunder that filled the entire suite. It would be of no use to call out his name, for he wouldn’t be able to hear her. She gingerly moved down the hall, beneath the drawing room’s towering archway, into the back rooms, seeing all of the splendid furnishings that were done in a masculine deep-blue and dark-green decor. The walls were a pale-white, and on one was a display case. It was long and wide, holding the awards of his accomplishments.

  She moved slowly down across the trophies, amazed by their number and range, from superior athletic achievements to studious ventures, and even doctrines of stellar concepts he had thought of on his own. He displayed them not in arrogance, but in truth of what he was—an intelligent and vibrant man—and she somehow shared in his respectful pride.

  Near the end of the hall a door was open, and she had a strong sense that that was where he was.

  While she approached, the turbulent song quit and another began. A mellow rhapsody resonated off the walls, and she knew it to be ‘Rainstorm in the Meadow’, one of her favorites. The woodwinds and strings could transport the spirit into a misty meadow, one lush and green and flowing with the nearing of storm clouds. One could almost breathe of the dankness, and of the scent of the wildflowers caught in the rushing winds, and could almost feel the cool, gentle touch on the skin. The rains were coming, to fall and sparkle upon the long grass, and soon the thunder would unfurl from the violet and blue billows, softly at first, like a promise ...

  She reached the doorway and saw Nicholas lying on his large royal bed. He rested above the sapphire-hued bedding with his hands cupped behind his nape, his legs long and stretched out in his leisure. He was dressed and ready for his day, his golden hair tied back in a queue, wearing a dark-blue and black suit of clothes—his boots on and all—like he had an upcoming appointment but was taking a moment to feed his soul. His eyes were closed while he meditated, loving and experiencing the music that surrounded him. He stirred slightly and she moved quickly into the hall, but he didn’t rise or notice her. She moved back, wondering if she should make her presence known. She felt like she was invading his privacy, but she couldn’t stop herself from doing so.

  His handsome face had a look of restlessness, like he was in a windswept meadow, as well. The song was becoming more intense, the thunderheads drawing closer, sending out the flashing bolts of lightning. She had an image of when she had lain with him on the beach, when they had made love with the tempest all around them, and she closed her eyes a moment, feeling those same sensations now. Desperately, she opened her eyes to stop the ache of her desire, and then was assaulted by the sight of him. The rains had broken free and were rushing, the sodden clouds freeing their gates, and she sensed his emotion, that he too thought of the beach. She was struck with an overwhelming impulse to go to him and straddle him, and kiss him like she never had before, and let herself be drawn into his consuming magnetism ... but then she would never again be free.

  Her steps were fast while she hurried from his apartment, retreating back to the safety of her rooms. Her intent had been to speak with him, to see if he could help her straighten out her accounts so that she could prepare herself to leave him, not to put her spirit in mortal danger ...

  Skye spent the day exploring the vast Royal Gardens. She could think within their privacy—the seemingly endless acres of fragrant, bountiful flowers and lush and exotic trees and plants—and hide within their sunny shelter. She didn’t want to see Nicholas today—she wanted to make her heart her own again and walk down her own, invulnerable path ...

  When the dusk began falling rapidly, making gnarled silhouettes of the trees, she abandoned her efforts at finding peace and headed back to her suite.

  Under the dome in the reception room that was before the entrance of the guest room halls, she spotted Prince Royce off in the distance. He was lounging in an oversized chair, his long legs partially dangling over the high armrest, talking to a grizzled old fellow, idly passing the time. She knew it in her heart that it was she who he was waiting for. She quickened her steps, hurrying toward her rooms, and from the corner of her eye she saw him turn and notice her. He called out her name but she pretended not to hear. When out of his sight, she flew down the hall, making it to the refuge of
her quarters.

  She quickly locked the door and moved back, and it wasn’t long before the bell chimed. She held her breath, determined not to answer. He was persistent, but even he—eventually—had to surrender to her stubbornness. She sensed his curse while he stalked off. She didn’t want to offend him, and if need be, she could beg the excuse that her bell was off and she wasn’t aware of any callers. It wasn’t exactly truthful—but these princes didn’t play fair.

  Although she had little appetite, she took a meal of pleasant seafood chowder from the kitchenette and sat at the table, and tried to eat. Her twisted belly wouldn’t allow any input, and she gave up and went to change for bed. She chose a soft long-sleeved pastel blue nightgown that opened in the front, held together in the middle, from the center of her breasts to the hem, with a lacy and thin magnetic mesh. She was tired from her all day walk and soon drifted off into the solace of slumber.

  She woke, finding Nicholas naked and beside her in her bed. He had made his way through her locked door and was intent on having her. In the faint glow of the light that he had turned on, she could see that he was tired, his eyelids heavy, him having had a full day. Still, he wasn’t about to let another moment go by without connecting with the power of their touch. Without a word, he kissed her ... and drowsy and dreaming, she welcomed him, in an instant losing all the resolve that she had strove so hard to find.

  His hungry tongue silently told her that he had missed her, had missed not having her beside him today, and hers told him the same. He drew away, and he appreciated the style of the nightgown she wore. He slipped his thumb and forefinger between the center of her breasts, applying sufficient pressure on the inlaid button to release the magnetics, and the long, lacy mesh down the center of the gown fell free. He spread the velvety cloth apart, taking a moment to savor her softness before he delved into her, ruling her breasts with his hot tongue and palms until she was breathless and wanting beneath him. She spread her thighs for him, eager for his entry, clinging to his strong back as he did so, becoming lost in his presence while he mastered her. He took her gently, lovingly, burning with a steady and tranquil mood that soon brought rapture to consume them both ...

  Sated, with their limbs intertwined, he was so contented that, for a moment, he fell asleep.

  She stirred beneath him and he woke, taking her into his arms, her head to his breast. He yawned from his fatigue and asked, “So how was your day?”

  She shrugged. “Fine.”

  “I was at the FAS Academy, seeing to my affairs,” he said. “But I’ll be here all day tomorrow. Maybe we could go on an outing?”

  She nodded, hesitantly.

  He stretched and then relaxed his tired bones, and drew her closer. “Why didn’t you come to me in my bed this morning?”

  She tensed. He had known that she was there?

  He smiled, caressing her cheek. “Your presence isn’t something that one can miss.”

  He was awaiting her answer.

  “I came to you to see about my accounts. I thought that maybe you would know how I could get access.”

  He stiffened. “Your accounts. So you still want to leave?”

  She closed her eyes tightly and said, “I think it’s for the best.”

  Suddenly, he released her with one fluid motion. He rose from the bed and began dressing in his discarded clothes, wide-awake now and tight in his anger.

  “Skye,” he sighed. “You are ... you just make no sense. I just don’t know what you want.” He paused, and in the dim light he searched her eyes. “Will you tell me?”

  She averted her face. She really didn’t know. She only knew that the longer she stayed, the harder it would be to leave him. The prince royal would never truly be hers. “I don’t know,” she answered. “Freedom?”

  He was silent a long while. Then he said, “Your accounts ... Those matters, Skye, are out of my hands.”

  He muttered something beneath his breath and he turned, and left her. She stared at the closed door, wondering if she were wise or foolish in letting someone like that—no matter who he was or how he keep her—slip from her grasp.

  ***

  Skye had a message waiting for her the next morning when she walked into the drawing room. Nicholas’ voice came from the message board near the door.

  “Mornin’, sweetheart,” he greeted, as if no discord had happened between them the night before. “How’d you sleep? I have some work to do in the Science Planetarium today, and I’d sure enjoy your company. Come see me, huh? If you don’t know the way, take a tracker off the message board. I have a very big surprise for you. I’ll be waiting—look forward to you.”

  He paused and then he said, “This is your not so secret admirer.”

  Skye smiled, temporarily falling prey to his charms. Curious, she knew that she would have to go to him—although she also knew what they say about what curiosity did to the cat ...

  Quickly she dressed in her new pink and blue dress. The top part was pink, having long and comfortable sleeves and a low-cut shirred bodice, and the bottom was a pale blue, starting beneath the breast, with a band of blue lace, and ending at the ankle. She slipped into the matching pink velvet shoes and set off to find him.

  She found the planetarium in the Southern Realm with the help of a map, a small handheld tracker. She slipped the device into her hip pocket and stood before the doors, pausing in her indecision. She sensed that something monumental awaited her beyond, and she hoped that she had the courage to withstand it. She took a deep breath and opened the doors, moving into the darkened, sloping hall.

  When she stood beneath the vast dome in the oval room, she was in awe of what she saw. It was as if she were under the night sky, with a million distant stars glowing above her. They glittered against the deep blackness as if they were real, sprinkled across the round horizon, their brilliance speckling the depths of the tiered dimensions to the zenith. This wasn’t Adriel’s starscape—or Urania’s, for that matter—for there were star clusters set about in the designs of distinct shapes, surely constellations yet unfamiliar to her.

  “There you are!”

  Nicholas stepped out of the shadows that cloaked the computer console in the center of the room. He sauntered near and she soon could make out his warm smile and playful eyes. He motioned at the celestial panorama surrounding them. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  She nodded in complete agreement.

  He placed his hand on her shoulder and guided her toward the chairs at the console. She sat in one and he took the one beside her, and his fingers worked a computer panel. A moon came into view, about halfway up the sky, bright and in a half phase. He stared at it a moment, pleased.

  “This is the Renegade Star System, so I call it,” he said. “I’ve programmed it from the data I’ve collected from the light probes—I finally have all of the information needed. What you see around you is an exact computer simulation of Renegade. The science teams are looking to see if it would be suitable for future colonization. From what I’ve seen so far, it is.”

  She glanced around, amazed.

  “We’re on a planet that has all of the necessities to sustain life—after some minor terraforming. It has hydrogen and carbon—we could make an atmosphere. ‘Course, we have no way of knowing, just yet, if life is already there. But this is actually what we would see, if we were there. It’s about five light years away from us—it was hiding behind the Binary Three System until I chanced to find it. But, you can see how the star patterns have changed. Look over there,” he urged, pointing at a star cluster off to his right. “That’s the constellation ‘Cytus’. You know how it looks like a crescent moon in our sky? Now it’s more like a straight line. It wouldn’t be recognizable as Cytus, here.”

  Skye was silent in her wonder, but he mistook her lack of response for disinterest.

  “There I go,” he apologized. “I’m boring you. I told you that I’m a bit of a bore with my projects—or rather, that the prince is.”

 
“No,” she quickly assured him. “I’m everything but bored. I’ve just never seen anything like this.”

  He smiled, reassured. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? I don’t know about you, but this stuff fascinates me. How vast is the sky and we are here, living out our lives stuck in a tiny, insignificant speck of the universe. There are things out there that we couldn’t even fathom, given our limited brain cells and basic forms. Many times I’ve sat here—with the simulations I’ve programmed—finding that I don’t have a clue. Those heavens sure know how to humble. Makes you try to see what’s really important ...”

  He ended on a quiet note, for a moment lost in thought. She could relate, for she had gazed up at the true night sky many times while she had lain in her bed, marveling about the mystery.

  “So, what do you think we should name this world?” he asked.

  “Name it?”

  He nodded. “We have the honors. We’re the first to chart it.”

  He moved for the console. “Here—let’s give it an atmosphere.” He worked the panels. “How about a nearby stream?”

  The sound of water came to their ears, rushing gently over imaginary rocks.

  “Some night sounds ...”

  The faint songs of frogs and other nocturnal creatures echoed in the background.

  “A warm breeze ...”

  Skye soon felt the soft wind touching her, brushing against her hair, her skirts ...

  He was satisfied with the ambiance and he came near to her, placing his hands on her shoulders, his fingers caressing her nape. She became affected by his nearness, and the mood of her magical surroundings.

  “Any ideas?” he asked huskily.

  She said the first word that came into her head. “Enchanted?”

  “Hmmm,” he considered. “Sounds a little girlish.”

  He had an idea. “Spartan?” He reconsidered, shaking his head.

  Skye had a primal thought of their Earthian origins, and a basic term came. “Terra firma,” she said. “Terra?”