by B. B. Hamel
I don’t break stride or show that his comment shook me. “Just a coincidence, Minister,” I say. “Your little ideals aren’t a concern to my family.”
“They should be,” he says softly. “The people want the royal family gone. Your old ways of doing things aren’t going to work anymore.”
I stop and face him. His aides and my guards keep their distance, just out of earshot. “You always were a fool, Perko. Do you really think your insane ideas are going to work here? You’ll gut this country for your own profit.”
His grin is wicked. “And the profits will be sweet,” he says softly. “Maybe as sweet as that girl you’ve brought.” He leans closer to me, his voice pitched softer. “Your little American whore.”
It takes everything I have not to hit him right here, but I know I can’t. His aides would make a big thing of it, and I’m sure my guards wouldn’t be happy about it. He probably wants me to get physical with him. It would be great for his cause.
No, I keep my shit together. I can’t be a fucking child. This is royal politics, not some backwoods bar.
“Careful, Perko,” I say. “I may not be able to touch you here, but I have more power than you realize.”
“More money, maybe, but you’re in Bellestan now, Prince. You’ve been gone a long time. Don’t forget that.” He turns to leave.
“Have a wonderful day, Minister,” I say loud enough for everyone to hear.
He smiles and gives me a short bow before returning to his aides. They quickly walk back the way we just came.
Aleks appears beside me, frowning at Perko’s back. “What did the toad want?” he asks.
“To threaten me,” I say. “And to threaten Mila.”
Aleks bristles. “Should we do something about it?”
“No,” I say. “But double Mila’s guard. I want her safe, and I don’t think Blaz is above hurting her.”
“It’ll be done, my Prince.”
I sigh and turn away. “And stop with the Prince shit.”
“Of course.” He hesitates and grins. “My Prince.”
I shake my head and walk back toward my room, thinking about my little impromptu meeting with Perko.
My father should tell me when he has meetings with Perko and the opposition. I need to be kept in the loop if I’m going to be able to help him. Of course, my father isn’t the easiest man to work with. He’s been King for a long time, and he does things his own way. I barely get to see him, and I’m his own damn son. He’s a busy man, running the country himself.
Part of me wishes he’d just jail the whole lot of the opposition, execute Perko, and be done with it. But that’s not how we do things in Bellestan. We may be a monarchy, but we’re not a dictatorship. The King has final say, but the ministers craft and pass legislation that my father can then choose to accept or deny. He’s more powerful than the American President, but he’s not all-powerful like in the old days.
I don’t know what my father is meeting with Perko for, but it can’t be good. Maybe it’s just some minor legislation that needs to be gone over, or maybe it’s something to do with the coup. I just have to trust him sand keep doing my part in all this, which is basically just putting on a good face. I’m here for public relations, I can’t forget that. I’m not here for governmental reasons.
I get to Mila’s door and hesitate. I hate playing this fucking game of pretending to be her husband and going into the other room. I wish we could just share a single space, but this is how she wants it. Sighing, I unlock the door and step inside.
“Mila?” I call out. She’s not in the living room or the kitchen. Her bedroom door is shut. “Mila, hey,” I call again. “You awake?” I walk up to her door, smiling to myself. “I guess you slept in today.”
I pull open her door. The room is dim, with only one lamp lit. I quickly spot a pair of panties on the floor before looking up at Mila. She’s sitting in the bed, her hair a bit of a mess, her face completely flushed. She has the sheets pulled up to her chest and she’s breathing fast and deep.
She stares at me for a second, her eyes wide with surprise, and it hits me. I know what she’s been doing. Holy fuck, I really do know.
The scepter, the royal dildo. I sent that to her as a fucking joke. But as she looks into my eyes, I know the truth. I know what she’s been doing in here.
“It’s not what you think,” she says.
“Yes, it is,” I say, smirking.
“I was just, uh, reading. In bed.”
I raise my eyebrow at the panties that are clearly on the ground. “Without underwear?”
She hesitates. “I like to be comfortable,” she says.
I laugh, shaking my head. “Get dressed. We’re going for a little walk.”
“A walk?” She looks totally confused.
“Get dressed,” I repeat. “Meet me out here in ten minutes.” I turn and shut the door behind me.
I’m hard and grinning but I know better than to push. I’ll get what I want, and sooner rather than later. But now I know she’s frustrated and she wants it just as badly as I do. All I need is the right moment to undress her and finally taste her the way I need to.
12
Mila
I can’t believe he freaking walked in on me masturbating.
I mean, oh my god. It was the most mortifying thing ever. And the worst part was, he didn’t seem to mind at all. He wasn’t embarrassed. He just stood there looking at me, not even pretending like he didn’t know what I was doing just a second before he came into the room. Instead of apologizing and leaving like a normal person, he invited me on some freaking walk.
So now here I am, stomping through the woods next to Prince Billionaire. A half hour ago, he walked in on me with his royal scepter deep inside my wet pussy as I dreamed about his cock. Now we’re out on a nice little romp along the castle grounds.
“These woods are ancient,” he says. “And never touched, as far as I know. This path was made a long, long time ago.”
“It’s really pretty,” I say, and that’s true. The forest is beautiful. We met at the top floor of the caves and climbed up a bunch of stairs, eventually walking out through a tunnel that deposited us maybe a half mile away from the castle. It was an escape route, he explained. Apparently the caves have tons of escape routes, some older than others. The one we used was the simplest, although it left me a little tired and breathless.
“I used to come out here a lot,” he says. “When Aleks and I were kids, we would play manhunt with a bunch of other children. My parents hated it.”
“Manhunt?” I ask.
“Basically you have two teams and you’re trying to catch the other team. When you grab them, they’re put in jail, and the game goes on until everyone is caught.”
“Oh, I played that too when I was young,” I say, laughing.
“Did you?” He grins at me. “Were you something of a tomboy?”
“I was, actually,” I say, grinning at him. “Short hair. Overalls. The works.”
“Sexy,” he says, arching an eyebrow.
I look away, turning slightly red. I can’t stop thinking about that moment back there. I’m so freaking embarrassed it almost hurts. I can’t believe Prince Billionaire walked in on me masturbating.
Then again, he doesn’t seem to mind. Part of me thought he might walk right in there and finish the job himself. And I think I might have let him. Instead, we’re out here in the forest, and I’m still frustrated.
We come up over a little rise and as we start down the other side, a root catches my shoe and I stumble forward. Bran catches me. “You okay?” he asks.
I nod a little. “Sorry. Distracted.”
“Yeah? By what?” He smirks at me and I know he knows what I’m thinking.
“About how much I hate nature.”
He laughs and lets me go. We continue walking down the path. “How can you hate this?” He gestures at the forest.
It’s dense and it’s green and it’s totally uncomfortable. I nev
er liked hiking or nature. I’ve always been a city girl at heart, even though I grew up in a small rural town. “I like air conditioning,” I say. “Climate control. And there are way more things that can kill you out here than there are back in my apartment.”
He laughs, picking up a walking stick. “I don’t know,” he says. “There are plenty that can kill you in the city.”
“Mosquitoes,” I say. “Bees. Snakes. Other gross shitty bugs.”
“Rats,” he replies. “Mice. Fleas. Bed bugs. Random muggings.”
“Nature sucks,” I reply, grinning at him.
“You just haven’t had the right nature, then. Here, look.” He points just ahead of us.
Growing up through the underbrush is an enormous rock. At least, it looks like a rock at first. As we get closer, it becomes clear that it’s not natural, not at all. “What is that?” I ask.
“Standing stone,” he says. “Nobody knows what they mean or why they’re here. That’s a small one, if you can believe it. Archeologists think they’re ancient.”
“Not really nature then, is it?” I ask him. “It’s not natural.”
“No, but look at it.” He walks up to the stone and brushes his hand against it. “This stone is natural. The moss growing along it is natural. The weathering patterns are all natural. It’s gorgeous, and sure, it was put here by people and shaped by their hands, but it’s still nature.”
I bite my lip and watch him as he gazes at the beautiful standing stone. I don’t exactly agree with him about it, but I have to admit, he’s very convincing. His passion is a little contagious, and I find it attractive that he cares about something like ancient stones.
“Okay,” I say to him. “ I guess we don’t have stuff like this in America.”
“You do,” he says. “Lots of amazing Native American stuff all over the country.”
I sigh, shaking my head and smiling. “Okay, fine. I guess nature can be cool sometimes.”
“I knew you’d come around.” He smirks at me then motions with his head. “Come on, let’s go.”
We set off again, following the path, and I steal glances at him as we go. He’s so handsome and he looks so happy walking through the forest like this. It’s a beautiful day and the only other sounds are birds and animals in the underbrush, which normally would freak me out a little bit, but for some reason I don’t mind it with him around. I feel like Bran will keep me safe, even if some deadly creature attacks from the bushes.
As we walk, Bran tells me more about the royal forest. Apparently all hunting is forbidden and has been for hundreds of years. When Bellestan was part of the Soviet Union, apparently even the local Russian administrators respected that ancient law, and the royal forest remains totally untouched. There are rumors of hauntings and pagan rituals, of course, but Bran dismisses these with a laugh.
“There are always superstitious stories, especially in a country like Bellestan.”
“Why would people here be any more superstitious than anywhere else?” I ask him.
“We just have a long, unbroken history,” he says. “Plus, we’re a little more secluded. Up until the Soviets took us over, we were pretty hidden from the rest of Europe.”
“But things are changing,” I say.
“Exactly. That’s how Perko and his people are getting more popular. People don’t like change.”
“They really don’t,” I agree with him.
We continue on through the forest, and the more we walk, the more I have to admit that I’m having a good time. It’s actually relaxing to be out in the woods just walking and talking with Bran. We’re just regular people out here without any cameras or palace guards. I suspect the guards aren’t too far behind us, since they came through the tunnel with us earlier, but still. I can pretend out here, and that feels good.
Bran is funny and kind when he wants to be. I know he’s under a ton of pressure from basically everyone around him, but when he forgets about all of that for a little bit, he can be so charming and incredible. He makes me smile and laugh and I actually feel good about myself when I’m around hm.
That hasn’t always been the case with me. I went through an awkward phase when I was in high school, so maybe that still lingers inside of me a little bit. When he tells me that I’m attractive, I find it hard to believe. But he’s the first person I’ve actually believed.
After a while, Bran starts asking questions about my family and my childhood. I had a different experience than he did, of course. I tell him about growing up poor in the Midwest, about my life around the countryside.
“How did you grow up around so many farms and end up hating nature?” he asks me, laughing.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I used to explore around outside all the time when I was younger, too.”
“And now you’re a city girl. The Midwest would be so ashamed.”
“Please. The Midwest is just happy that I lived there for a little bit. But I can’t be contained by any one place.”
“Is that so?” he asks, grinning at me. “Guess it must be, Princess. That’s probably why you followed me here.”
“No, I followed you here for a good job,” I say.
“Oh right, of course. It can’t be for the handsome Prince that’s sweeping you off your feet.”
“Sweeping me off my feet?” I laugh and push his shoulder. “Hardly. I’m planted firmly on the ground.”
“We’ll see, Princess. I think this royal life is starting to agree with you, you know.”
“Not exactly. I’m not into sneaking around, being followed by guards, and playing political games.”
He nods but I notice that his smile falters just a bit. “It’s a lot,” he admits. “But I think you’re handling it all pretty well.”
“I have a good guide.”
His smile comes back as we start talking about something else, but that momentary crack in his armor keeps coming back to me for the rest of the hike.
Why did he seem to care? I didn’t think he really gave a shit about any of this. I assumed that I’m here just because he needs someone to help him, and not because he actually wants me here. I also assumed that he just wants to sleep with me because he finds me attractive, for whatever reason.
I never even considered that there might be another reason. It never occurred to me that he might actually… like me.
I feel like such a stupid high school girl, but I can’t help but feel a swell of warm pride. What if Prince Billionaire actually likes me? I have no clue why he would, but he is going out of his way to spend time with me. He doesn’t need to take me on tours of the caves, show me beautiful lakes, and bring me on hikes of the royal forest. He could keep me in my room and only bring me out to parade in front of the cameras.
But he seems like he actually wants to see me. He acts like he genuinely cares about my life back home, back before I came to the city. It was a boring and simple life, but it was mine, and I guess I like sharing it. Even if he is a Prince, he still listens and seems to take in what I’m saying about myself.
I don’t think I’ve ever been listened to so closely before, which is strange. I never thought Bran was the kind of man to pay that close of attention, but maybe I misjudged him.
We round another bend and I realize that we’re getting closer to the castle. I can see it looming in the near distance. As we get closer, suddenly there’s a sound nearby.
“Prince Bran!” A voice cuts through the otherwise idyllic moment.
“Shit,” Bran says softly. “Press.”
“Out here?” I ask him.
“We’re closer to the castle than I realized,” he says. “They must be fucking patrolling or something.”
“Prince Bran!” The journalist appears just as we step into a clearing. He’s a round man with a thin beard and thinner hair. He comes jogging over, burdened by his camera and his other gear. “Prince Bran, what are you doing out here?”
“Just on a hike,” he says as the journalist snaps pictures. �
�What are you doing?”
“We have a camp near here,” the guy says, and suddenly I hear more voices.
“Uh oh,” Bran says.
More journalists and paparazzi appear through the brush. They practically stampede over themselves to get close to Bran and me.
They start yelling questions out, and I feel like we’re being attacked. Suddenly, the guards that I suspected were nearby appear, and start to get in between us and the journalists.
“Hold on,” Bran calls out. “Everyone, please, hold on.” He holds up his hands, his voce loud and booming.
The people slowly calm down and everyone looks at him. Bran smiles and gestures at his guards, who step back from the journalists.
“Okay,” he says. “One question at a time.” He points at one of the journalists. “You, back there.”
“Prince Bran, how do you feel about your father’s proposed petroleum tax?”
“I support my father,” he says simply. “Next question. You, back there.”
“Prince Bran, there are rumors that your Babble office is downsizing. Are these rumors true?”
“Absolutely not,” Bran says. “If anything, we’re growing. Next question.”
It goes on like this for ten minute. Bran answers as many questions as he can, and mostly they’re about local politics. I stand next to him and listen intently, smiling when he jokes, and putting on a serious face when the questions get somber. Bran does a marvelous job of defusing the situation and answering questions while not really saying anything important at all. Basically, he’s a master politician, probably from years of running a major company.
Finally, he calls on the last journalist. “Prince Bran,” the man says. “How is it having your beautiful Princess here in our country for the first time?”
There a general murmur from the crowd as Bran smiles and puts his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. “Showing my beautiful Princess around is the highlight of my time here,” he says. “As you can see, we were just admiring the wonderful Bellestanian landscape. Isn’t that right, my love?”