Mountain of Masks

by Jeanne Hardt

  She set down her drink and faced him. “I am far from defeated.” Her eyes penetrated his. “I will not be cast aside. I am meant to sit on the high throne, and I shall.” She once again took hold of his hand and this time brought it to her lips. “Will you aid me?” She took one of his fingers into her mouth, swirled her tongue around its length, then slowly withdrew it.

  He trembled. “I always do.” Breathing hard, he wrapped his arms around her and yanked her close. “Do I not?” He nuzzled his bushy face into her neck, then kissed his way to her lips.

  “Mmm …” She deepened the kiss, craving much more. However, having infinite questions, she stopped herself from becoming enraptured. Darius and she had all night to satiate their needs in her bedchamber.

  She pressed her hands to his chest, breaking their bond. “Is this, Olivia, the beauty I have heard her to be?”

  His head drew back and his chest heaved.

  It might have been unfair to spark his need, then douse it. Yet she loved playing games. Toying with him now would enhance their time together later.

  He licked his lips. “I will not deny she is fair. But, she is a mere child. I doubt she will satisfy Sebastian.”

  Angeline danced her fingertips across his chest. “The chaste boy knows not of satisfaction. How could he be aware of lacking something of which he has no knowledge?”

  “I am well aware.” He chuckled and grasped her breast. “At least now, you will not have to endure the healer’s needle. Though Denali is capable at his craft, I never wanted you to suffer that kind of pain.”

  She closed her eyes, savoring his touch. “Your concern warms me.” Lifting her lids, she stared at him, wondering how he would react to her plan. “Yet, I will still require Denali’s services. Once my plan comes into fruition, you and I will have to cease our activities—at least for a while—so he can sew me nearly shut, allowing only for my flow.”

  Darius’ eyes formed into slits, and he firmly crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Why? You have no further need to feign virtue. Every worthy prince has been spoken for, with the exception of Tesher from Oros, who is but fifteen.”

  She giggled. Entertaining that particular idea tickled her. “I am not willing to wait for that boy to mature. Besides, his older brother, Eural, is destined to take King Callum’s place, and even if he were not an issue, I desire the high throne. Not one in Oros.” She retrieved her mug and casually sipped.

  Darius watched her every move, his confusion adding to her pleasure. With every passing moment, he breathed harder. “Damn you! Tell me your plan.”

  She tipped her head to one side, then sensually pursed her lips. “I love to hear you riled.” Once again, she set her drink on the table, then took her cousin’s hands in her own. “We shall bring unrest to every kingdom and plant seeds of doubt in the minds of every king. We will remind them of the terms agreed upon by every realm and insist they be upheld.” She caressed the backs of his hands with her thumbs. “Pressure to act will weigh heavy on King Roland’s shoulders, and he shall be forced to name Frederick his heir.”

  Darius grunted. “Frederick? I assumed you wished to pursue Sebastian—have me slit his new bride’s throat, or something of that nature.”

  “No. I am done with Sebastian. He had every opportunity and chose to shun me. I deserve someone who will appreciate me. A man who is more like-minded.”

  Darius studied her face, all the while grimacing. “Frederick. He is your plan? Have you forgotten he has a wife who is with child?”

  Angeline cupped her hand to Darius’ cheek. “I forget nothing. What better way to ease myself into his affections, than by comforting him over the loss of his family?”

  “Loss?” He stared at her for several moments, then smirked. “You are wicked. How will you see it done?”

  She slid her hand up his leg, then rested it where she had always been able to control him. “You said you would help me.” She gently squeezed. “I believe I can devise a way to accomplish the task without shedding blood.”

  “Tell me.” His eyes shut, then he moaned and tipped his head back as she intensified her touch.

  “All in good time. For now …” Her own need surged. “Come with me to my chamber and remind me why you are my favorite relative.” She dug her fingers into his thick hair and fervently kissed him.

  When they separated, he stood and lifted her into his arms. “My pleasure.”

  They said nothing more, all the way to her room.

  At times, she scolded herself for her poor decision to behave unintelligent and giddy in Sebastian’s presence. He might have been the kind of man who appreciated a cunning woman. At the time, acting innocent and pure seemed appropriate.

  How could she have known another princess existed who would stake claim to him? Until Olivia, Angeline had wrapped the Basilians around her little finger. Especially Queen Helen. Angeline had assured the woman she would be the perfect wife for her precious son.

  Angeline vowed never again to giggle like an inexperienced girl. She would use her womanly wiles to worm her way into Frederick’s heart and bed. Chaste or not. A widowed prince was allowed a new princess, as long as she could prove herself virtuous. With the help of her skilled healer, Frederick would be nonethe-wiser, and Angeline would display genuine pain on their wedding night.

  Darius hurried along the lengthy hallway to her chamber. Icy air that somehow managed to seep through the stone walls stung her cheeks. Soon, the cold would be forgotten.

  She laughed as her eager cousin fumbled with the door latch. With a swat to his hand, she opened it herself.

  In two swift strides, he crossed her chamber floor and flung her onto the bed. The soft down embraced her, then his heavy weight nearly crushed her.

  “You drive me to madness,” he mumbled against her cheek.

  Before she could utter a sound, his mouth covered hers, devouring her with insatiable hunger. A trait she had admired since they had first discovered the joy of coupling with each other.

  Now at the age of three and twenty, she had lost count of the numerous times they had entwined. Seven years of secrecy had allowed them many satisfying romps.

  Ten years her senior, he had been bestowed with beneficial experience from dalliances in the brothels of Issa. However, once he bed her, she forbade him from going there again.

  His wife, Lydia, had no knowledge of their activity. She proved to be a fine deterrent for anyone who might have questioned him, had he remained a bachelor. Aside from his wife, Darius was bound to Angeline alone, and if Angeline discovered otherwise, she would see to it he died in the most horrendous manner possible.

  Her activities with Darius had brought about a scant amount of heartache, and Denali had proven his worth more than once. Though it pained her in a way no one but a woman could understand, she had required the man’s skills to remove a child. He had assured her she could conceive when the need arose, but she feared him mistaken. Since Denali’s procedure, even when Darius mistakenly spilled his seed within her, no child had formed. And yet, Darius and Lydia had produced a son and daughter. Reminders of what Angeline had given up.

  No matter. As long as she became high queen, she cared not whether she produced an heir.

  She threw aside all ill thoughts and focused instead on her lover. Panting hard, he pushed her skirt high above her waist, then stripped her of her undergarments.

  Another giggle escaped her—one utterly unlike those she had readily tossed about in Basilia. This form of laughter was meant to fuel Darius’ fire.

  He tugged off his trousers and forcefully took her. A man willing to display his power excited her beyond measure.

  She shut her eyes tight and concentrated on every sensation. The intensity of his thrusts, the heat radiating from his skin, his guttural moans, and his musky scent.

  “Tell me you will do all I ask,” she rasped, drawing her hips downward to further entice him.

  “Whatever you desire.” His words came out in puffs of a
ir, and he did not once stop his movement.

  She worked her hands under his tunic, then scraped her fingernails along his back, digging them deep enough to rouse painful pleasure. “Good. And for your loyalty, I shall not have you withdraw this time.”

  His eyes widened and his mouth formed into a sinister smile. He kissed her hard and deep, then held himself above her and slowed his pace. “Then I shall do my best to please you first.”

  Exactly what she wanted. She locked eyes with him, licked her lips, and allowed herself the greatest pleasure in the kingdom. She could not comprehend what it would be like to have another lover. Darius had spoiled her.

  Perhaps Frederick would bring something new and exciting to her bed. From what she knew of him, he was devious in his own right. Together, they would become unchallenged rulers who could change ridiculous laws that benefited no one.

  She had prayed for divine intervention to give her the means to have Sebastian. However, it may have been God’s will for her to be with Frederick all the while. Who, but God, would know best?

  She laughed. “I would,” she whispered.

  Darius thrust harder. “You would what?”

  “Do this all night, if I had no other responsibilities.”

  He grunted. “Stop speaking. We have little time.”

  She narrowed her eyes, tempted to give him a piece of her mind for telling her what to do. Instead, she smacked his bare rump and sealed her lips.

  He was right. She needed to enjoy herself and set aside her plans. Truthfully, thinking about them brought her even more pleasure.

  From the moment she had heard the great prophecy, she knew she was destined to fulfill it. Nothing would prevent her from making it happen.

  Chapter 4

  “Frederick, I cannot endure much more.” Marni slapped her hands against the mattress. “I shall never sleep.”

  He sat up in bed and placed a hand on his wife’s bulging stomach. “Something you and our child need.” He threw back the covers and stood, then fumbled with a lantern until he managed to light it. “I shall return shortly.”

  His head ached from the constant yapping of the damnable dog. The mangy thing had decided to settle itself beneath their window.

  It added to the misery he already wrestled. Ever since his cousin had claimed a Crenian bride, Frederick had not been able to squelch his anger. How his aunt and uncle had agreed to the union was beyond his comprehension. They had certainly lost all sense.

  He wanted nothing more than to wring someone’s neck, simply to make himself feel better.

  He settled for the dog.

  Marni smiled upon seeing him return to their bedchamber. “The creature is silent. I do not know what you did, but I am forever grateful.”

  “Your happiness is my utmost concern.” After settling the still-illumined lantern on the table beside the bed, he lifted the lightweight covering and lay on the mattress beside her.

  His youthful bride pleased him in many ways, though her large belly prevented some of their activities as of late. Even so, he would eventually be able to take her in any manner he pleased.

  He lay back and sank into the pillows, yet his head continued to pound. Even rubbing his temples brought no relief.

  Marni brushed her hand over his cheek. “Why did you not extinguish the light?”

  “Because sleep will not come, and I want to see you. Your beauty lessens my agony.”

  “My poor dear.” She shifted her gentle touch to his forehead, then kissed him. “You are troubled about Sebastian, are you not?”

  “His union to the Crenian should forfeit his right to the high throne—or any throne for that matter.” He grunted, disgusted by the mere thought of it. “Only because of birthright does Uncle Roland sit as king of Basilia. My father had far more intelligence, but a second-born son has no claim.”

  Marni glided her hand back and forth across his chest. “I know the loss of your father still pains you.”

  “It troubles me more, knowing I would now be king, had he held the throne.” He glanced down, admiring her enlarged bubbies. Impregnating her had benefited him in more than one way.

  “You have many good reasons to despise Sebastian. He shall taint the high throne. I imagine he has taken the Crenian’s maidenhead by now.” She dotted kisses across his bare skin. It had not taken his bride long to learn how to please him. “When the kings from the other realms meet her, surely they will see her unworthiness and protest the union.” She rose up and brushed her lips along his. “I will gladly speak to my father and encourage him to fight this unfairness. The Crenian woman is an abomination. You, my love, should be king.”

  “You believe your kingdom will support my claim?”

  She nuzzled his neck. “Father always wanted either Pasha or myself to be high queen. Since you chose me, Father hoped Sebastian would seek to claim Pasha. It happened not.”

  “So …” He took his rightful liberty and allowed himself to freely explore her body. “You wish to sit beside me as high queen?”

  She sat up, smiling in a manner that bordered on wickedness, then straddled him. “Nothing would please me more. That is, until our child comes.” She took hold of his hand and placed it on her belly. “I know you want it to be a boy.”

  He carefully felt the bulge, then went higher and took pleasure in tantalizing her nipples into hard buds. “I cannot comprehend how such a womanly form could produce something masculine within. But yes, I do desire a son.”

  “With red hair like yours? And eyes as green as the meadows?”

  “Color is not important, unless I find he has no features proving he is mine.”

  She pursed her lips. “Shame on you, Frederick. No other man has had me.”

  “And none ever will.” He jerked his head. “What are you waiting for? Can you not see I am ready?”

  She giggled. “I thought your head ached.”

  “It does. Now ride me and take away my pain.”

  The light from the lantern allowed him the view he craved. He focused not on the bulge of her stomach, but on all that lay above it. When her auburn hair flopped forward and covered her bosom, he pushed it back. Though only four years younger than he, his nineteen-year-old bride had an innocent youthfulness that fueled his passion.

  He would never reveal that he often envisioned his cousin, Allana, while coupling with Marni. His thoughts were his alone, not to be invaded by anyone. Nearly his entire life, he had been surrounded by his golden-haired cousins. All of them were beauties, ready to be plucked. If only he could have done the plucking.

  He settled on Marni.

  Morning had almost passed, when Frederick made his way through the pathetic castle that had been bestowed on his father. It paled in comparison to that of the high king. Merely two floors tall, it looked more like the home of a commoner than that of royalty. Worse yet, it faced his uncle’s inhabitance. Every day, Frederick beheld what should rightfully be his.

  He strode into the kitchen and poked about, trying to find something edible.

  “I see you have finally woken, sire.” The plump cook stood smirking in the doorway, while blocking the pantry as if guarding it for her own benefit. “Shall I cook an egg or two?”

  “Have we no meat?”

  “I can send the larderer to your uncle’s for pork if you wish.” She smirked and cocked her head. “Unless you fancy dogmeat. One of my boys discovered a dead mutt on the doorsill this morning. Its neck was broken, though I doubt it perished on that very spot. I find it odd to have been placed there.”

  He glared at her. “I do not find humor in your jest, Ercilia. If your boy had sense, I pray he disposed of it.”

  “Forgive me, sire.” She snapped her lips shut, then huffed and rested her hands on her stomach. “Shall I send the larderer?”

  “No. If we have no pork here, I shall not take it from my uncle.”

  “He cares not. He has told Matias more than once that he is welcome to help himself to whatever we need. You
are aware of this, so why do you not partake of his offer?”

  He moved within inches of her. “You speak much too freely, so I shall remind you of your meager status. You do not make suggestions, you are to follow my commands. I care not that you have been in my service since I was a boy. Your time here has made you too comfortable.” He poked a finger into her fat belly. “Your gluttony disgusts me. Have you been stealing from my pantry?”

  She swallowed hard, no longer smug. “I steal nothing. I eat only bits of what I prepare for you and your wife. I detest thievery and would not partake in such.”

  He took hold of her plump hand. “There are stories of old, where thievery was punished by removal of the body part guilty of the offense. Without hands, one cannot steal.”

  She trembled in his grasp, and he reveled in the sensation.

  “Nor could I cook,” she whispered. “I swear to you, Highness, I am innocent.” Her head dropped, accentuating her double chin. “Please, punish me not.”

  He did not release her and took his time contemplating what to do next. A brilliant idea struck him.

  She would never cross him again.

  He yanked her along with him to the chopping block and grabbed hold of the most threatening knife in their vast collection.

  He pushed her hand flat against the wood. “Will you remain loyal and do all I ask without question?”

  “Y-Yes, sire.” Sweat beaded on her brow.

  “Good. Do not remove your hand from the block, and with your other, take this knife.”

  “But—”

  “Do you intend to break your vow so soon?”

  “N-No.”

  He put the knife in her right hand. Her left quivered on the chopping block.

  “A single hand can perform most any necessary task.” He breathed the words into her ear. “Perhaps I would be just in having you remove the other.”

  “Please … no.”

  Seeing that the knife she held trembled in its own right, he helped her hold it. “It is quite sharp. I have seen you with the stone, honing the knives so they will easily cut through bone. Did you ever believe they would one day cut through your own?”