Royal Chronicles of Denmark, Books 1 & 2

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Royal Chronicles of Denmark, Books 1 & 2 Page 15

by Kiki Leach


  He squint and tilted his head. “You love me.”

  “I didn’t say that,” I quickly replied back.

  “You don’t have to. I already know it as I always have. Your lip has been twitching like mad since the lawn.” He smiled and breathed out. “Tonight. I shall taste you tonight, my favorite girl.” He kissed the center of my throat. His lips traveled down to my breasts, and he kissed each one through the fabric, directly on my nipples. They became erect almost immediately. “Mmm.” He opened his mouth and I felt his tongue on my skin.

  “Norvack,” I pleaded. “The reception, and then you shall have me.” I shoved him back to keep from giving in as I so wanted, and went to the door. I fixed my gown and helped him fix the mess on his head that his hair had become, and we exited the room in haste.

  Once the festivities ended hours later (though it felt as if another day had passed at some point in between all the dancing, eating, and royal greetings), Norvack readily escorted me back to my chambers. We never said a word to one another as we rounded each corner and climbed every step. The back of our hands swung back and forth, narrowly missing a touch or two along the way. As we reached my door, I stood there for a moment and breathed deep. I turned to look at him and saw he was smiling so wide, his face appeared so bright to me, so insanely happy. I lay back on the door watching him. He slid forward and turned his head aside. And then he placed his fingers atop my breasts. “I wish to see your body in full tonight,” he said. “I asked Brigita for the nightgown I wish for you to wear, it should be placed at the center of your bed. Do you wish for her help tonight?”

  “No.”

  “Alright.” He dropped his hand down my arm, creating goosebumps on my skin, and took my hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing my fingers. His tongue swirled between my knuckles and I jerked away before I could come. He laughed.

  “How long before you come back for me?” I said.

  “Not long. Are you anxious, my favorite girl? You seem quite eager.”

  “I…” I stopped. “I’m only curious to know the rules.”

  “No rules tonight, Cinder girl,” he told me. “I expect nothing between us but sweat and desire.” He leaned in and sucked my neck. “I shall return for you soon.”

  Within a matter of seconds, he seemed to disappear. I slipped behind my door and lay back, reaching for my head to check for a fever as I felt more flushed than ever. Tonight was our night. I was ready.

  The Battle

  Hours seemed to pass like flinging arrows striking a hay bale instead of it’s intended moving target. I felt stuck in the position of laying on the bed with my hands tightly clasped one in the other atop my stomach. Despite Norvack’s ever growing tardiness, I was still so nervous, and was certain I was going to break one of my fingers off if I didn’t keep as still as possible. I breathed out, still waiting impatiently for his arrival, and looked over at the window. I relished in the light from the moon, imagining it shining so bright over his smooth skin as he hovered over me, sinking himself deeper and deeper into my sweetest nectar. I turned away and licked my lips, moaning a little at the thought of him finally tasting every inch of me, just as we had both so finally desired.

  The longer it took him to get to me, the more I started to wonder if he had suddenly changed his mind after all this time. I was certain it wasn’t so, but I knew no other reason to explain his exceeding tardiness, especially on this night in which he had seemed all too enthusiastic for so long.

  I was growing restless in waiting and rubbed my legs together in a fervent manner, comforting myself and thinking of him, as it seemed to be the only thing worth doing in the moment. I thought more and more of him inside me and grabbed for a handful of my gown, lifting it to my waist. I spread my legs wide and slid my fingers down to my sweetest spot, then heard an anxious knock at the door. My eyes popped open in surprise and wonder, and I lay still for a moment before realizing it could be the prince. I lowered my gown immediately and rushed to the mirror to fix my hair, brushing it down and sliding it behind my ears. I lifted my breasts above the rim of the gown as high as they would go without fully exposing my nipples and pinched my cheeks a little, giving off a flushed yet prepared demeanor.

  The knocking grew more incessant.

  “Just a moment,” I said. I stood back looking at myself one last time and smiled.

  As I went over to the door, it creaked back before I could reach out for the knob, and Brigita entered. To say I wasn’t expecting her would have been an absolute understatement. My excitement disappeared upon seeing her sullen and dreary face. Her skin was as white as snow, but her cheeks were flushed. Her rose colored lips stood out more than normal, as did her pale blue eyes and her hands were rattling like leaves in the wind. I took one in my hand to calm and sooth her, though I felt myself becoming more and more worried and frightened the longer I held on, and the longer she remained silent.

  “What is it?” I snapped in a panicked tone, practically begging her to say anything to me. I blinked slowly and swallowed hard in an attempt to subdue my own growing fears. And then I asked her more calmly this time, ducking my head a little to meet her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  Tears filled her eyes the moment the words left my mouth. Her lip quivered as she spoke. “It’s Norvack,” she said in a dry tone.

  I dropped my hands from her and stepped back a little. I stood straight and frowned, clinching my teeth, trying my best to prepare for whatever was to come. “What’s wrong, Brigita?” I asked, stern and in control. “What happened?”

  She rattled her head and removed her eyes from mine. She visually began to search the room in a fright. “He isn’t coming tonight, Cinder,” she said.

  I scrunched my face and tilted my head, fearing I had misunderstood something. “What do you mean, he isn’t coming?” I tossed out my hands. “We have waited for this night -- Where is he?”

  “Gone. He’s gone--”

  “Gone, where?”

  She wiped her face and exhaled once, lowering her shoulders. “The king sent him into battle.”

  “Battle?” I jerked back, annoyed and knit my brows. “What battle? Involving what people?”

  “The King of England and his army, princess. It seems that a war has begun between our country and theirs. The king sent his son in his place.”

  “He sent Norvack to war?”

  “Yes, princess.”

  A lump formed in the back of my throat upon hearing the words ‘Norvack’ and ‘war’. My face tingled and became warm. And without even thinking of my actions, I began walking back, stumbling in truth, and dropped to the bed, slumping down to the edge. I placed my hands in the center of my lap and fell in a state of shock and disbelief, looking out to the floor as I tried as best I could to fully and completely comprehend her words to me.

  Brigita quickly came over when she realized I wasn’t moving even an inch and sat down beside me, placing a soothing hand on my back. Every thought I had of Norvack that night suddenly escaped me and was replaced with fear, and unknowing.

  “What happened?” I managed to ask her. “Why…?”

  “It all happened this afternoon, from what I was told,” she said. “The King of England declared war upon Denmark at the same moment you and Norvack wed.”

  I whipped my head toward her and glowered. “You’re joking.”

  “No. The king received a letter from England this afternoon. The battle was to begin at sundown and carry on until…” She paused, looking away. She cleared her throat. “But the king hesitated to inform his son.”

  “When did he finally inform him?”

  “Over an hour ago.”

  “That long?” I sat back and shook my head. My mind was suddenly moving at rapid speed. And straight away, my worries turned to absolute resentment and hatred. I curled my fingers into my palm and tightened them. “That bastard.” I jumped up and slammed my fist into my other hand. “That BASTARD!” I turned to Brigita, who had clutched her arms in what seemed
to be a bit of fear of what I would do next. “That man waged this war because Norvack chose to marry me and not the true princess! And the king sent his own son into such an unnecessary battle as this?”

  “I believe there may have been more to it--”

  “Oh, I’m quite certain there was. But the prince’s choice to marry me was the ammunition the King of England needed to strike, and strike he did!” I strolled across the room, looking about the golden walls and embedded fixtures. I let out a breath and shifted my eyes. My anger at the outcome returned to immediate terror within an instant. “Perhaps Belarus was right and I never should’ve married his son. Perhaps he was trying to prevent all of this from occurring, which is why he said what he had to me this afternoon. But to send his own son in his place…” I scowled and turned back to Brigita, who was looking to the linens on my bed. “Why were you so upset coming in here? It couldn’t have only been regarding Norvack.”

  “I…” She appeared to be searching for her words as I looked into her soft eyes. “My father died in war years ago,” she finally replied. “Hearing of the prince’s departure brought back many unpleasant memories for me, of his loss.”

  “I’m sorry,” I told her. I dropped my head, focusing on my hands, which I realized hadn’t stopped shaking since she informed me of the news.

  Silence quickly fell around us soon after, engulfing the room -- almost as if the room itself had absorbed our sadness and fears.

  As the hours had passed well into the early morning, we still had yet to hear of any news one way or another.

  Seeing as neither of us could get even a wink of sleep in the meantime, Brigita offered to groom me as a distraction. So I sat down before my mirror and she brushed my hair to the tips of each strand. I continued to fiddle with my hands in my lap, and felt her staring at me in the mirror, but I couldn’t bear to look up. I wanted to tell her how much I appreciated her comfort and company, but it seemed as if she was already quite aware from her treatment alone.

  “I’m sorry to have upset you when I first came in with the news,” she murmured, attempting to avoid eye contact.

  “You didn’t,” I reassured her. “The news itself is upsetting, but you didn’t upset me. You were doing as ordered in relaying information.”

  “In truth, princess, the queen had insisted upon telling you herself. I asked to inform you instead.”

  “Thank God for that,” I muttered. “Why didn’t Norvack come to me himself before leaving?”

  “The king prevented it, sending him away before he could reach your chambers.”

  “I see. More as if to prevent me from begging Norvack to stay. To prevent us from…” I stopped and looked aside.

  She continued stroking my hair and looked up. “Were you looking forward to the wedding night with him, Cinder? I know you said you would never be with him, but--”

  I shrugged. “But, we’re married now. Which means we’ll be together at one point or another, I’m sure.”

  “Yes, but I know that he was looking forward to it. And, a wedding night is tradition.”

  “As is not seeing the bride prior to the ceremony. Norvack already broke one rule, the latter shouldn’t have come as a surprise.” I peeked back at her and grinned. “That’s enough, I don’t need my hair brushed anymore. Thank you.”

  I got up from the bench and went over to the window and out to the balcony. The air was cool, crisp. Dew rested on the grass. I leaned over the railing, looking out onto the forest and noticed the sun attempting to peek out from amongst the trees. And then I looked over at a stack of wood and for a moment, I remembered having watched Norvack there just the night before, chopping blocks for the fire to make my wedding band. I remembered how he looked. I remembered counting nearly every muscle in his arms and back as he took each swing, splitting the blocks in half. I remembered the way his hair clung to the back of his neck as the sweat dripped from the crown of his head straight down the middle of his back and to his tailbone, soaking into the rim of his trousers. I remembered how I wanted to go to him, how I was so desperate to bring him to my room, for him to take and embrace me completely, for him to be mine.

  I looked away in regret and chewed my lip. It was almost as if I could feel my heart shattering inside my chest with each soft breath I took. “What if he doesn’t make it back?” I said under my breath.

  Brigita moved up and nodded. “He, will.”

  “Your father didn’t. What if he doesn’t either?”

  “Those were different circumstances, Cinder. My father wasn’t a prince, he wasn’t an heir to the throne or any man of royalty. I’m sure Norvack will be protected by his men.”

  “Yes, but what if he isn’t?!” I turned back to her with tears in my eyes. “What if his men are incompetent and he dies as a result of poor protection? Norvack is a fighter, I’ve seen it. But he can’t battle an entire army out for his blood on the king’s orders! What if I’m left alone in this palace with his mother and father? I’m quite positive they will not wish to keep me here without their son. I’m only the prince’s wife, but not the bearer of his child. I’d be nothing more than his widow, as I have nothing to offer them in return for my inhabitance. They’ll banish me the moment they learn of his fate.”

  “Try not to think of such things, Cinder.”

  “I can’t help it.” I traipsed back into the room and began sobbing. I covered my face to keep the tears from falling to my gown, but it was no use. Each one dripped between my fingers, practically soaking through to my skin. I grabbed my chest, wheezing a little as I spoke. “If he dies, if I lose him, I’ll have nothing. I won’t have him -- I won’t have anything. I can’t go back to Hadenville now, I can’t! And the Sheriff… my God.” I stopped, widening my eyes in realization. “My God, he’ll have no reason to continue to remain quiet and I’ll be dead before the day is up. He shall present the king with the sword I used to kill Willem and I’d have to run before he got word to the king of my misdeed.”

  “Cinder, it won’t come to this.”

  “You don’t know that!” I snapped. She raised her head in surprise at my tone and dropped back. “Oh, I’m… I’m so sorry, Brigita. I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

  “It’s alright--”

  “It isn’t. You’ve been so good to me since I first came here, especially given what you know about me. I had no right to speak to you in such a manner, it was completely uncalled for.” I swallowed hard and scowled. “It’s just that -- I’m just so frightened of what could happen to him. I’d never admit it to his face, but he’s perhaps the best thing to come into my life, ever.”

  “Do you love him, Cinder?”

  I remained scowling and thought for a moment, moving my head about. “I’m fond of him. I’m not sure if I could love anyone, ever. I’m not even sure of myself.”

  She moved closer and placed her hands on my face, smiling sweetly, yet with tears in her eyes.

  Someone began banging on my door quite harshly in that moment. Brigita looked to me for less than a second before rushing to answer, and we saw the queen in tears on the other side. I wiped my face and pulled up my gown, leaping forward. I wanted to appear strong before her, even if I felt like collapsing to the floor in fear of what she was bound to tell me.

  I gulped and then cleared my throat. “What is it?” I asked. “Is he dead?”

  She looked straight into my eyes, hers were so red, bloodshot. “No,” she answered.

  “Thank God.” I exhaled. She remained still but in tears, which worried me even more than her moving about. I scrunched my brows and rattled my head. “What is it? If he’s not dead, then what’s wrong, why are you crying?”

  “He fell off his horse. They believe it’s possible he’s sprained or broken his back. And…”

  I jerked my arms and waved my hands in a tense frustration. “And, what?!”

  “They believe he might have been stabbed or cut by the King of England.”

  “Stabbed or cut? That’s quite a
large difference!”

  “They informed us that he was still conscious when his men got to him.”

  “Still conscious. He was still conscious which means he’s aware.” I placed my hand on my chest and looked to the ceiling, breathing out in utter relief and on the verge of more tears. I ginned and turned to the queen, who shockingly looked more disgusted than frightened for her son’s well being, or even grateful that he was in fact in as fair shape as possible, as far as they knew. “Norvack’s alive,” I said. “He’s breathing, conscious but heavily injured which means he’s on his way back to us, yes?”

  She nodded. “As an heir to the throne, he must return to us. He’s not allowed to remain at battle any longer. His men must remain there until the end.”

  “But Norvack returns to the palace where he belongs. That’s good, right?”

  She tapped her foot against the floor and sucked on her teeth. “It isn’t if he becomes an invalid.” She slipped past me, entering the room at her own volition. I excused Brigita and shut the door. The queen stood silent for a moment and placed one hand into the other, holding so tightly her skin became inflamed. “He’s my only son.”

  “I’m, quite aware,” I said.

  She whirled around in a panic. “If Norvack doesn’t become king, it’ll go to one of his first cousins, seeing as he has yet to produce an heir….”

  “Yes, well--”

  “I’ve groomed him since he was a child to take his father’s place on the throne. No invalid can rule a country. He may as well be ruling from his grave!” She reached for her head and crinkled her eyes. “I never believed that my son would become such a bitter disappointment, especially in a time when he was needed most.”

  I tiled my head and sneered, questioning what I had just heard. “Bitter disappointment? Are you mad?”

  She puckered her brows in surprise and anger at my tone. I could almost see flames rising from the creases in her neck as she spoke. “Excuse me?”

 

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