by R. S. Lively
He sounds as though this realization just popped into his brain.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"It stems from the same law as the one about babies born to unmarried royals," Arthur explains. "In Cambrian law, a married couple can't dissolve their marriage within the first three months. Not for any reason."
I look at Christian.
"You knew about this?"
He nods, his eyes closing briefly.
"I didn't think about it, honestly," he says. "It's not something that ever really comes up. People who decide to end their marriages have usually been together for more than three months."
"So, we're stuck," I say.
"For the next ninety days, the two of you are married," Arthur says.
I know I have no choice. No matter what I feel about the situation, this is my reality now. For the next three months, I am Christian's wife. If I try to get out of it or make a fuss about it, all I'm going to do is cause problems for him and our daughter. All I can do is get through the next three months as gracefully as I can. I know that means making appearances at official events... starting with my wedding reception.
An hour later, Christian holds me in his arms as we dance. I can feel countless eyes on us, scrutinizing us. Some of the people are swept up in the romance, wanting to believe we are a fairy tale come to life. Others, though, are already looking for the cracks, and waiting for us to crash and burn.
"I'm sorry about all this," I say when I feel like we have a moment when no one can hear us.
Christian pulls me slightly closer, and I can feel the warmth of his body. I remember the touch of his skin, and the pound of his heartbeat, and I wish I could pretend there was no one else in the giant ballroom but us.
"Don't be," he says. "There are a lot of things in this world I can think of that are worse than being married to you."
I laugh, leaning my head against his chest for a brief moment.
"Thank you so much," I say.
He grins, pulling me a little closer.
"You're welcome."
When I wake up the next morning, I immediately have the thought that I never expected to spend my wedding night in sweatpants, comforting a colicky baby. I've barely gotten any sleep, but it's already mid-morning, and I can't bring myself to lay back down. I've just managed to put on makeup and tame my hair into some semblance of a style when Christian comes into the room.
"Good morning," he says.
"You sure look chipper," I say.
"I told you I'd come help you with the baby last night. You told me you didn't need my help."
"Well, one of us might as well be rested."
"And I hope it's you, because you have a lot ahead of you today."
I look at him quizzically.
"What do you mean? What do I have to do today?"
"No one is going to accept our marriage if we don't attend events and make appearances together."
"But we are actually married," I say. "Did you forget that little fact?"
"No, I didn't forget. But it doesn't matter whether it's real or not to the people looking at us from the outside. To them, there's no other option than for it to be real. That means all they care about is appearances. You are a magical fairy tale come true, Piper. And that means you need to learn to act like a princess."
I flash a glare at him over my shoulder.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just that you need to be able to act appropriately royal, so we can make it through the next three months."
"I have to take care of Aurora," I say.
"My parents have been waiting years to be grandparents. They want to spend as much time with her as possible. You'll get to see her throughout the day, but when she's with them, or napping, you'll be in princess boot camp."
I groan.
"Somehow I don't think that is going to be anywhere near as much fun as the Disney movie it sounds like."
Christian takes me by the waist, and pulls me to him for what feels like an impulsive hug. I linger in his arms for a few seconds, my breath caught in my chest, then step back.
"I'll do my best," I tell him.
He runs his fingertip along the side of my face, using it to tilt my chin up toward him.
"You are going to be perfect."
Christian
Perfect my ass.
Three days after the wedding, I nearly run into Frederik as he storms away from Piper's rooms. I watch him for a few seconds before going through the door he left open. Walking toward Piper, where she is trying to mop something up off a table in the center of the room, I gesture over my shoulder.
"Why is Frederik crying?" I ask.
"Because he's a big fucking baby." Her hands slam on to the table, and her head drops with a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry," she says. "He's a lovely man with the disposition of a lemon, and the humor of a toad."
"What was that?" I ask.
"Me being a princess," she says. "Apparently, princesses don't have mouths like the bottom of a sewer drain. At least, according to Frederik."
"Well, it was a valiant effort." I point to the mounds of soaking wet napkins spread across the table. "What happened here?"
"He was trying to teach me how to drink tea like a princess. I tried to inform him that as a little girl growing up in America, I've had more tea parties than I can even count. He insisted, however, that wearing a tiara and sharing shortbread cookies with my teddy bears isn’t going translate to actual formal events. It kind of went downhill from there."
She drops the napkins in her hand and sits down hard in the chair beside her.
"What's wrong?"
"I can't do this," she sighs. "I've been trying, but I am really horrible at being royal. Probably because I'm not supposed to be."
"It's only been three days," I say.
"And that's the fourth time I've made Frederik cry. Three days are enough to prove to me I have absolutely no business being in any kind of public eye, especially if I'm expected to be well-behaved in any way."
"For what it's worth, I like you better when you don’t behave."
She looks up at me, and manages a weak smile.
"Thanks."
I reach down and take her hand, pulling her up out of the chair so I can hold on to her shoulders and look into her face.
"You can't give up," I say. "You have done much bigger things than this."
"Really?"
"If you can teach a village to grow crops in sand, and spread the joys of safe sex all at the same time, you can learn how to behave at a dinner, or have a conversation with a foreign dignitary."
"You know what I do," she says, sounding surprised by my reference. "I actually do that. That's right."
"I know," I say. "I looked into it." She smiles, but her lips tremble. I give her shoulders a small shake to bring her focus back to me. "Let me do this for you. We're going to give Frederik the next few weeks off."
"Who's going to turn me into a princess?"
"You already are a princess," I say. "But I'm going to teach you to act like it."
"You?"
"Yes. Me. You taught me all about Massachusetts, and baseball, and pointless giant candles. Now it's my turn. I'm going to teach you how to be a Cambrian royal."
Chapter Fifteen
Piper
"Two weeks. After two weeks, I still forget where to put the spoon after I stir the tea. Why do I have such a mental block against that?"
"Because if you were at home, having to remember something like that would be fussy and pretentious and ridiculous."
"But I'm not at home. I have two degrees. I should be able to remember where to put a spoon."
"You're doing a fantastic job," Christian says. "Look at how much better you've gotten with other things. You were perfect at the ceremony this morning, and the pictures of you at the children's event earlier this week were gorgeous."
"So, I learned how to wave, and to not let people take pictures of my ass. I don’t know if
those really qualify as progress."
"Yes, they do. You're being way too hard on yourself. What my parents are asking you to do is nearly impossible. But you’re making great progress."
"I'm not doing it for them," I say. He looks over at me. "I'm doing it for you."
Christian stares at me for a beat, then grabs my hand.
"Come on," he says.
"What? Where are we going?"
"Where's Aurora?"
"She's with your parents," I tell him. "I fed her right before Frederik came for our appointment, and I gave a few bottles to your father when he stopped by to get her. Why?"
"Good. You need to get out of here for a while, and there's something I want to show you."
He pulled me into the bedroom and opens my closet to reveal the elaborate wardrobe of outfits a team of professional stylists had selected for me. He sifts through them, pulling out a few items and tossing them onto the bed.
"Christian, what are you doing?"
"Get dressed," he says. "We're leaving in fifteen minutes."
"Where are we going?"
"Just get dressed. It’s a surprise. I'll tell you when we get there."
He leaves the room, and I change into the clothes he chose. They are much more casual than what I’ve been wearing since the wedding. It’s much closer to what I would wear back home. When I'm dressed, I spend a few moments fixing my makeup and adjusting my hair. I don't know where he’s taking me, but this will be the first time in the two weeks we've been married that I'll have any time alone with Christian. It's ridiculous, but the thought still makes my stomach flutter.
Christian ushers me out to the waiting car and gives his driver instructions. As we weave our way through villages and gorgeous countryside, I become even more curious. It's the first opportunity I've had to really explore Cambria, and I see why Christian loves his country so much. It's beautiful and peaceful, and I want to see more of it. I’m enjoying the sights so much, I almost feel disappointed when the car stops and Christian climbs out. He walks around to the side and meets me after the driver opens my door. Taking my hand, he leads me to a narrow path where a steady stream of people are trickling toward a hill. The warm air is filled with a strong, familiar smell, but I don't piece it together until we follow the path and step out onto a beach.
The people around us are clearly celebrating, and a few of them even seem to notice who we are. Those who do smile and wave, some whispering to the people around them.
"Can we be here?” I ask. "Without security or anything?"
Christian laughs.
"We can do anything we want. It's our country." His large hand envelops mine as we make our way toward one of the large bonfires built up on the sand. "All the pomp and circumstance is mostly for my parents' generation. The younger people aren't as impressed by us."
"They aren't?"
"A lot of them are my friends," he says. "Even the ones who remember me from when I was younger, when I wasn’t so… concerned about being a proper prince. I didn't exactly have the best reputation."
"Oh, really?" I ask.
"I might have had a touch of a wild streak."
I smile.
"I can't imagine."
He looks over at me, a mischievous grin on his handsome face. "I'm sure you can't."
"They seem to be looking at us a lot for people who aren't impressed."
"I said they aren't as impressed. I'm still going to get some attention. It's you they're really interested in, though."
"Me?"
"You tamed the playboy. It's a feat countless women tried, and failed, to do."
"Countless women, you say."
"Yes," he says. "But you're the one who managed to tie me down. They're fascinated by you."
"Such a flattering evaluation of our relationship," I say with a laugh. "So, what happened to change your opinion about being a prince?"
As soon as I ask the question, I wish I didn't. I know exactly what changed.
"When my brother died, it meant I wasn't the spare anymore. My whole life I was the little brother whose life didn't have much purpose. Since I wasn't first in line for the throne, I didn't have anywhere near the responsibilities he did. I could basically do whatever I wanted to. Then Nicholas died, and everything that was supposed to be his suddenly became mine."
"What happened to him? You never told me."
"I don't really want to talk about it right now, Piper. It’s too sad. I'd much rather be celebrating with you."
"What are we celebrating?"
"Don't you remember the Summer Festival?" He asks.
I instantly remember the night we spent together on the beach while I tried to recreate the festival for him.
"Yes," I say. "I fed you toaster pastries, and I almost burned my house down."
"Well, this is what I wanted to show you. The ceremony we conducted this morning officially opened the Summer Festival."
"I was concentrating so hard on behaving properly, I didn't even notice what we were doing," I admit sheepishly.
"That's what I figured," Christian says. "I wanted to share this with you. You tried so hard to give me the holiday I love when I was away from home. Now, I want to show you why I love it so much."
My heart is pounding in my chest, and I feel like I can't catch my breath. We step closer to the warmth of the bonfire, and Christian wraps his arms around my waist. There are dozens of people around us, but I don't care about a single one of them. All that matters is Christian. His mouth lowers down to mine, his lips brushing across mine in an almost experimental kiss. His brief touch is just a reminder of the connection we shared.
For the rest of the night, we celebrate the Summer Festival together. We dance and laugh, feeding each other, and holding hands with what feels like even more significance as the night wears on. It’s like we've slipped back to last year, but now there is even more between us. A heat that neither of us can deny.
By the time we get back to my apartment of rooms back at the palace, Aurora has long since gone to bed. I relieve the nanny, still feeling strange about trusting someone else to take care of my baby, and Christian and I sneak quietly into the room with her bassinet. Standing close to each other, we gaze down at our precious daughter. It amazes me how much she's grown in only the few weeks she's been alive. Every day she seems to get even bigger and we discover more about the tiny personality inside her.
I feel Christian's fingertips touch my elbow and run down to my hand. He intertwines our fingers, and guides me slowly out of the nursery and into my bedroom. We pause, and for an instant we are still, our breath mingling in between us in anticipation.
Christian kisses me softly but pulls back. His tawny eyes smolder at me, and I feel myself falling into them. I'm unable to resist as he leans forward and captures my lips again. I surrender fully to his kiss as my resistance melts away. He holds me tightly in his arms and kisses me with an intensity that leaves me breathless.
Christians tongue touches my lips, tempting them open so he can explore my mouth. I hear him groan as I relinquish to his touch, but he continues to move with slow, controlled patience. Our tongues play with each other and our kiss deepens. I wrap my arms around his neck, and bury my hand in his hair in an attempt to find stability. His hands slide down the curve of my waist, over my hips, and down my thighs. I feel his fingers gather my skirt, so it creeps up my legs, allowing him access to my upper thighs. In one swift motion, he pulls me up off the floor and holds me against his body. I wrap my legs around his hips, touching my head forward against Christian’s chest. I feel protected and treasured in his arms as he carries me toward the bed.
Lowering me carefully at the end of the bed, Christian lifts my skirt to my waist and lowers himself to his knees in front of me. I run my hand along the side of his face, cupping his cheek. He turns his face, pressing his lips into my palm, before placing his hands on the insides of my knees to press them apart. When my thighs are spread apart to his satisfaction, he yanks me
forward against him so my core rocks against his chest.
I fully surrender myself to Christian’s hands as he exerts his powerful, yet nurturing, control over me. He slips his hands under the straps of my dress, easing them off my shoulders, kissing my exposed skin as he lowers them over my arms. Another tug pulls the dress down to my ribs, revealing my bare breasts to him. Christian releases a low groan as he looks at me, taking all of me in, and admiring me after so long apart. He's restraining himself, but I can see the hunger and lust in his eyes, and I ache for him to let go.
I run my fingers through his hair, the movement causing my dress to fall to my hips. Christian's feathery touch sweeps across my breasts, tracing the gentle swells up their sides and flicking my already taut nipples. I shiver with his patient, enticing touch, and wrap my hands around the back of his neck.
"Lick me,” I whisper.
Groaning low in his throat, Christian dips his head forward to sweep his tongue across my right breast. He pauses, then sucks further, drawing my breast fully into his mouth so he can suck my nipple into a tight, aching peak. I arch into the feeling, holding his head lightly to encourage him as he moves to the other side and repeats the slow, intense attention on my other breast.
While he continues to kiss and nuzzle my breasts, Christian slides his hand under my skirt and grabs my panties. I move back enough to bring my legs together and remove the now damp scrap of lace. Dropping it to the floor, he stands and loosens his pants. I reach up, and cover his hands with mine to stop him. Our eyes meet, and I hold his gaze. I move his hands away, so I can move his pants over his hips and down myself. Parting my legs again, I wrap my hands around the backs of Christians thighs and urge him to step forward between my own, bringing him even closer. I lower my gaze and finally see him fully again. His cock stands hard and erect, and looks so delectable it makes my mouth water. I can't resist leaning forward to run the tip of my tongue slowly up the underside of the head. It jumps slightly and responds to my touch, and Christian makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat.
Smiling at his reaction, I open my mouth further, and draw his cock in with my tongue. Christian rests one hand on my shoulder, and the other on the back of my head. He moans loudly as I slide my lips to the tip of his cock, flicking my tongue, tasting his sweet fluid. I take him fully into my mouth, letting his hot, swollen head dip into my throat. Christian's hips begin to rock, gently thrusting into my mouth as his hand guides me into a smooth rhythm. I let my mind go, allowing me to revel in the taste of him, the feeling of every vein and ridge against my tongue and lips as I concentrate on worshipping his cock.