It was so fucking complicated.
A half hour or so later, she sighed. "Finished."
As she moved to set the makeup aside, I grabbed her wrist and squeezed. I had to actually concentrate on loosening my grip as I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
"I'm sorry."
Rochelle looked nervous as hell. She glanced from her wrist to my face with doe-like terror. "Whatever for, Your Highness?"
Her voice shook, and more guilt flooded me.
Good. I deserved it.
"For treating you so poorly. I feel I owe you an explanation."
She shook her head quickly. "You do not owe me anything, Highness."
I rolled my eyes, and a small grin touched my lips. "I do. See, my handmaid before you was my best friend, and... she died. So..." I swallowed hard and fought the burning in my throat that signaled the incoming of tears. "It's not you, or anything you've done. It's me and my grief. I shouldn't be so gods-awful rude, but I just can't help it. I'm going to try harder, though. I just thought you deserved to know."
She slipped her wrist from my grasp, then took my hand in hers. "Thank you, Your Highness. I appreciate that more than you know. And I'm so sorry about your friend. I actually met Gemma a few times. She was an absolute delight."
My smile widened and tears swam in my vision. "She really was."
And for the first time since I met her, I felt like Rochelle and I were actually starting to bond.
She quickly grabbed a kerchief and dabbed at my eyes.
"Please don't cry. Your beautiful makeup will melt off, and we spent so much time on it."
I laughed and blinked a few times to ward off the tears. I even fanned my hands at my face, helping to dry them up. "There. All better."
She smiled and stepped back, folding her hands in front of her. "Anything else you need from me this evening, Your Highness?"
I shook my head. "No. Please just tell the princes that I'm ready for dinner."
She curtseyed and left my room, leaving the entryway ajar as she strolled down the hall.
I heard a knock and the soft click of a door opening.
"Yes?" a male voice said.
"Princess Alexis is ready, Your Highness."
"Thank you kindly, Rochelle." Cal. Of course she'd go straight to my husband first.
A moment later, Cal was leaning in my doorway, his mountainous form taking up every inch of available space.
His breath hitched as his blue eyes scanned my body. "You look... gorgeous, Peach."
I smiled and stood. "Thank you, you look pretty handsome yourself."
He glanced down and studied his simple black suit. "Thanks."
"I look handsome too," Dan called from out in the hallway, making me chuckle.
"I'm sure you do," I called back.
"What am I? Chopped liver?" Ben asked.
I rolled my eyes and grinned, striding past Cal to peek out into the hall. "You look extremely handsome as well, Ben."
Then my eyes locked on Rob, brooding and beautiful, seeming even more pained than usual. His plush lips were pursed, and his thick arms were crossed in front of him as he leaned against his bedroom door.
Gods he was alluring.
I didn't hesitate, just let that magnetism pull me down the hall and over to him. The scent of spice and cologne filled my lungs, making me dizzy with longing. He looked hesitant as I ran my hands up his chest and neck, but by the time my fingers raked through his dark hair, he was ready for me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his room right before our lips touched—away from prying eyes.
Not that either of us cared if the guys saw us, because we didn't. It was the Storm King and his nasty spies that we had to be careful of.
I parted my lips against his, and his tongue immediately slipped into my mouth, caressing mine with a gentleness I wasn’t used to from him. It was strange, and it worried me, so I did the only thing I could think of—I bit his bottom lip.
The next thing I knew, he spun me around and shoved my back against his bedroom wall. His chest pressed hard into my breasts, his mouth hot and heavy on mine, and his tongue driving me mad with need. This. This was the Rob I knew and loved.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered against his lips. "I didn't mean to upset you earlier."
"Shut up and kiss me, Jewels."
I did, pouring all my love, fear, worry, and passion into the dance of our tongues.
"We're going to have to talk about this eventually," I pressed, before kissing him again.
"Eventually isn't now or anytime soon," he argued. His palms skimmed my body as we drank each other in.
"Yeah, well," Cal butted in from out in the hallway, breaking us from our moment, "it's dinnertime, and if we're late..."
He didn't have to finish that sentence. We all knew the consequences of anything and everything we did—pain and torture and guilt. Always.
Sighing heavily, Rob released me and we exited his room without touching.
No one said anything about our moment. No one teased us or cracked any jokes. Perhaps everyone knew there was something up with our Spirit Prince and no one wanted to upset him any further, at least until we got to the bottom of whatever the hell the problem was. Obviously, it had something to do with Chrissen, but what, I couldn't say.
By the time our group reached the bottom of the stairs, the Storm King was there, not waiting for us in the dining room like he normally would have been. He stood in the hall, surrounded by three foreign dignitaries, smiling like a normal fucking person instead of the deranged bastard he was.
His sly eyes slid onto us, and a fire lit behind their blue depths. “Ah, there they are now! My sons and the lovely princess.”
Cal had to drag me down the hall because I was pretty sure my feet weren’t moving.
The foreigners turned around, eyeing us curiously with sparkling eyes and cunning smiles.
The first was a man with salt-and-pepper hair, deep brown eyes, and smooth brown skin. He was dressed in a pair of black harem pants and an elaborate red and gold vest with no shirt underneath. I didn’t recognize his face, but I had no doubt he was from Eristan.
Next was a woman with long black hair and tanned skin that was covered in tribal tattoos. She had a smooth cork of wood protruding from her bottom lip and both of her earlobes. Everywhere else, she was pierced with golden circlets. Her dress was long and metallic, formfitting but protective, and she carried a spear. She looked like a total badass.
And finally, another woman, tall, thin, and blonde with yellow eyes that slanted up at the sides and crackled like fire. There was a wildness to her vibe and expression that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, even more so than the tribal woman. And she was dressed in tight black leather—a top that could pass for a bra, a tight skirt that barely reached midthigh, and knee-high boots that probably took her twenty minutes to lace up.
The Storm King stepped in front of them and gestured to us one by one. “Prince Calvin and his lovely wife, Princess Alexis, Lord and Lady of Nightshade Castle in Northern Blackwood.”
Cal bowed, dragging me down with him, then quickly sidestepped us out of the way.
“Prince Daniel,” the Storm King continued, “Lord of Ebony Chateau in Western Blackwood. Akiko, I believe you’ve met.”
The tribal lady nodded, but her expression remained stoic and unreadable.
Dan bowed to them all with a charming grin, one that incidentally drew a responding smile from the wild leather lady.
On instinct, I made to take a step closer to Dan, but Cal held me back.
“Not now, Peach,” he whispered, and a thunderous frown rolled across my features like a sky storm.
“Prince Benson, Lord of Obsidian Palace in Eastern Blackwood. Rasheem, you remember my youngest son?”
Rasheem smiled, and his eyes lit with warmth. “Youngest by, what, a week?” he teased with a chuckle, then nodded his agreement. “Of course, I remember Prince Benson. Our own King Solomon has taken
quite a liking to him.”
I nearly scoffed. Oh, Solomon liked him all right. Liked him enough to unite him with his daughter, Princess Camilla. But fuck that. It wasn’t going to happen, war or not. I’d make sure of it.
“Prince Robert," the Storm King said, continuing his introductions. "Lord of Onyx Fortress in Southern Blackwood.”
The wild leather lady spoke up. “My cousin’s father is from Southern Blackwood.”
Rob raised a brow. “Oh yeah? I was under the impression that cats didn’t usually mate with inferior species.”
“They don’t,” she replied curtly. “But fire is addictive, Prince Robert.”
“Ah, so your uncle was a demon?”
“Uncle-in-law, yes.”
He grinned. “Always have to make the distinction.”
I couldn't imagine anything about a demon being addictive, at least, not based off the one's I'd met. But to each his own, I supposed.
The Storm King cleared his throat and gestured to his newest son. “And finally, Prince Chrissen, Lord of the Lunaley.”
I almost choked. “The Lunaley?”
When the hell had that happened?
The king’s hard blue eyes landed on mine with malice. "Yes, Princess Alexis, the Lunaley. Part of the Treaty O’ Ley being back in effect means that the fae and harpies have each given up their claim to the land in order to keep the peace. Blackwood has once again resumed government and ownership." He took a moment to chuckle at my expense. "Honestly, has Professor Samson taught you nothing during your time here?"
The dignitaries all laughed politely at his little joke, while I fumed.
He knew I couldn't have heard about Chrissen's new title—I was in Eristan when the newest Storm had been crowned and then forcefully kept in a coma up until now. Clearly, he just wanted to make me look stupid. The fucking prick.
Then the king got back to business. “Children, please allow me to introduce you to our guests. This is Rasheem of Eristan, advisor to King Solomon.”
Rasheem bowed with a genuine smile.
"Akiko of Rubio, captain of Queen Kiami’s army." She nodded at us as the king continued. "Rubio is an island chain that swings all the way between the coasts of Western Blackwood and Eastern Hydratica."
In other words, a very important ally.
“And Princess Veda of Valinor, youngest of Queen Veronica's seven children.”
She didn’t curtsey or bow. I raised a brow, intrigued by her defiance. But she just stood there and crossed her arms. “Valinorians bow to no one,” she said in a guttural accent.
I pursed my lips. "I thought it was Rubians who refused to bow?"
"Valinor will not bow, either," she insisted with a sneer in my direction.
The Storm King’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but he recovered quickly, ignoring our mini conversation completely. “Prince Rafe from Werewood will be joining us shortly, as well.”
Dan and Rob groaned, drawing a smile from me as the Storm King led us all into the dining room.
“Who’s he?” I asked Cal.
Cal smirked good humoredly and shook his head. “Trouble.”
The long table was set for eleven, and instead of seating ourselves beside the king at the head, Cal led us to the other side and took the opposite end, positioning me to his right. Rob and Dan each flanked the king, while Ben and Chrissen sat in the very middle, across the table from one another.
Akiko sank silently between Rob and Ben, and Veda squeezed between Dan and Chrissen, looking rather smug. Her self-satisfied smirk was enough to set my teeth on edge. Rasheem sat to Cal’s left, directly across from me, which meant that whenever Rafe decided to show up, he’d be stuck sitting by one of us.
I reluctantly tore my steely gaze off Veda and glanced curiously at Cal. This was a seating arrangement I’d never seen before. I had to wonder if it’d been rehearsed.
“It’s a power play,” Cal whispered to me as he leaned in and handed me my napkin. Then he took my hand and placed a gentle kiss on my skin. “Stop worrying about Dan.”
I chuckled airily. For all intents and purposes, we looked like newlyweds still hopelessly in love, sharing in a private joke.
“Please,” I whispered back, rolling my eyes. “I’m not worried in the slightest.”
Cal’s grin remained. “Lie.”
It was seriously hard to resist sticking my tongue out at him. “Fuck you, Cal.”
“Maybe later, babe.”
Rasheem, who sat on Cal’s left, folded his hands under his chin and smiled at us. “Congratulations on your union, you two. I see it was a perfect match.”
I smiled, feeling my cheeks flush slightly, but from further down across the table, I saw Dan’s jaw tick. Rob’s and Ben’s expressions were not any happier.
“Thank you, advisor,” Cal replied politely for the both of us, squeezing my hand before letting my fingers go. Clearly, he’d picked up on his brothers’ tension as well.
A line of servants entered carrying trays of food—meats, beans, steamed vegetables, breads, cheeses, and gravies. Once they deposited the food, they quickly scurried off, and after the Storm King took the first bite, the rest of us commenced.
Apparently, we didn't fear tainted food in the presence of potential allies. Surely, even Zacharias wasn't that stupid.
“Any plans for children on the horizon?” Rasheem asked me pleasantly, pulling a roll apart and taking a bite.
But it was the Storm King who answered. “Absolutely, advisor. They can hardly wait. I, for one, am incredibly anxious to see the Storm dynasty thrive.”
“No doubt you are, Your Majesty,” Rasheem replied easily.
“What about your other sons?” Veda asked, staring pointedly at Dan.
“Yes, Majesty,” Rasheem agreed excitedly, “what about them?”
I knew he’d be trying to play matchmaker between Ben and Camilla, which was just fucking... great.
The Storm King leaned back in his tall chair and smiled. “I am open to propositions, but I cannot guarantee that I’ll accept. We’re here to talk war, after all, not happily ever afters.”
Pshh. As if anyone who married a Blackwood royal would get a happily ever after.
Not that I had any intentions of letting a single foreign finger touch any of my Storms. Not even Chrissen, who technically wasn’t mine, but who was still stuck with us anyway, thanks to the blood bond. That poor guy was either going to have to integrate himself into the group or get used to a loving relationship with his hand. Our friendly, omnipotent lightning bolt would make sure of that.
I broke open a roll and dunked it in gravy. Here’s to hoping I didn’t ruin yet another gown.
“Well, I have a proposal,” Rasheem said. “I propose a union between Princess Camilla and Prince Benson. And if not Benson, then Prince Robert would do nicely as well.”
No surprise there. I shoved the roll into my mouth and rolled my eyes.
“And I propose one between myself and Prince Daniel,” Veda announced.
No surprise there either, though I was a bit taken aback by her straightforwardness.
The Storm King smiled humorously. “Any other proposals?”
“Well, since we’re on the topic,” Akiko began staring seriously at the king. “Queen Kiami has a daughter that will be coming of age soon—Nalini. It would make strategic sense to unite her with Prince Daniel, considering he rules the Ebony Coast.” She shot a dismissive glance at Veda. “The cat shifter can stake her claim on a different heir. Prince Robert, perhaps. Since they already share citizens, it would be prudent to assume they could share rulership as well.”
The Storm King nodded approvingly. He seemed to appreciate her no-nonsense air.
I didn’t appreciate it in the slightest. Brows furrowed, I tore off another chunk of bread and chewed it with gritted teeth.
Princess Veda, however, was already set in her decision. “I will not choose a different heir. I suggest finding Princess Nalini a new suitor, instead. Perhaps the r
ecently crowned Prince Chrissen?” She turned to where he sat on her right side. “He’s handsome and strong, and he seems to have a gentle spirit. He would make a fine husband for your princess.”
Criss, who’d paused halfway to bringing a bite of steak up to his mouth, looked utterly terrified at the prospect of being auctioned off to a girl he’d never met. It might’ve made me chuckle if the feeling hadn’t hit so close to home for me as well. Before marrying Cal, the very thought of the word marriage would’ve sent my blood running cold.
Before Akiko and Veda could argue further, the doors of the dining room burst open and another man strolled in. He was broad, bearded, and stacked with muscle. He wore a tattered cutoff shirt and formfitting pants.
“Is no one going to propose to me?” he asked with a wide, sarcastic smile. “I’m incredibly available.”
His eyes scanned the table, and when his gaze landed on mine, he instantly started walking toward me.
“Don’t even think about it, Rafe,” Rob growled, gripping the table with white knuckles.
The newcomer’s eyes practically sparkled with mischief as he took the seat beside me. “Oh, I’m thinking about it.”
“She’s taken,” Ben threatened from between Rob and Rafe.
The man turned around in his chair and hung an elbow over the seat’s back. “By you?”
“By me,” Cal warned, keeping his voice even yet lethal.
Rafe spun back around and shook his shaggy head. “That’s a shame, that is.” Then he eyed Veda from across the table. “I don’t suppose you’re single and ready to mingle?”
A half smile tugged at her lips. “I might reconsider on your behalf.”
Rafe waggled his brows devilishly.
"Since when do cats and dogs get along?" Rob wondered aloud.
The Storm King sighed, drawing everyone’s attention once more. “Prince Rafe, I trust your journey here was a smooth one?”
“What gave it away?" Rafe asked with a grin. "The torn shirt?”
The Storm King cocked a brow. “I was under the impression that werewolves always dressed in rags.”
Storm Chaser (Storms of Blackwood Book 3) Page 7