by J. E. Taylor
“Sweet lord, you are so damn tight,” he said with a smile and stared down into my eyes.
His hips circled slowly, easing the pain and replacing it with a delicious pleasure. My body relaxed, and I moved my hips with his. His pupils dilated, turning his eyes darker with each thrust of his hips.
He whispered my name and gave me a searing kiss, intertwining our souls into a single union.
Chapter 12
My eyes opened to a bright streak of sunshine cutting through the room. My stomach rumbled, and the arms holding me tightened. I glanced over my shoulder at Prince William’s sleepy smile. His eyes fluttered closed after briefly meeting my gaze. He squeezed tighter and planted a kiss on the back of my neck.
I wrapped my arms around his, mystified at how my life had changed in the last twenty-four hours. I went from Lady Githa’s punching bag to the prince’s fiancée. I pinched my hand again just to make sure this wasn’t a dream. The stark pain told me otherwise. I snuggled closer despite the hardness pressing against my back.
William groaned and rolled onto his back, stretching. My stomach rumbled louder, and he chuckled.
“We never got you any food last night.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and disappeared into the other room. A few minutes later, he came back with the tray.
He climbed into the bed next to me and sat against the headboard, offering me a grape. I took it between my teeth and propped myself up on my arm, admiring his chiseled chest.
“We have a busy day today,” he said after I devoured the rest of the food.
“Mmm?” I mumbled, my mouth still relishing the taste of fruit and bread.
“Wedding plans. We are getting married this week.”
I grinned. “You really want to marry me?”
“I wouldn’t have shared a bed with you if I didn’t,” he said and put the tray aside. He swiped his clothes off the floor, and to my disappointment, covered his sweet backside from view.
I sat up and pulled the sheet over my breasts. “I’m not sure what to wear today.” I glanced at the gown I wore last night. “I think that is a bit too formal, and the nightgown isn’t appropriate.”
“The closets are full of things my mother outgrew after she had me. Find something comfortable and suitable for meetings with bakers and dress makers.” He bowed. “Until this evening,” he said with a smile and left the room.
The minute he exited, Miranda stepped in. “My lady, the queen has asked for your company this morning to go over the plans for your wedding.” She went to the closet and pulled out a couple simple, yet elegant, dresses for me to choose from. They were nowhere near as ornate as the ball gown, but they were eons more formal than the dress I wore to clean house under Lady Githa. I chose the simple blue dress.
Miranda neatened my hair and handed me my wand before she took my hand, leading me through the grand hallways into a sitting room with walls filled with knickknacks.
“The queen will be here shortly. If you need anything, just ring,”
Miranda handed me a small bell. I set it down on the table and crossed to the shelves. I didn’t dare touch anything, but I studied each of the figurines and statues until I came to a painting. I stopped and stared at my likeness standing on a countryside hill with a group of people dressed in finery with both the stars peppering half the sky while bright streaks of sunlight bathed the other.
My brain seemed to reset to the eyes of the girl in the painting. To my ancestral grandmother and the hills rolling all around them. Magic filled the air like a string quartet. It thrummed through my veins along with a distant tribal drum beat.
A door creaked. I turned away from the photo, and my eyes widened. I dipped in a curtsy as the queen herself entered the study. Queen Samantha commanded any room she entered. In some ways, her stunning beauty reminded me of my mother, but there were obvious differences. The queen’s hair was raven black and her eyes were dark like Prince William’s, versus my mother’s fair hair and blue eyes that I inherited. As the queen drew closer, I caught glimmers of green flecks in her dark irises. It was an interesting combination. She smiled at me and glanced at the painting.
“You certainly do look like your ancestors,” she commented with a voice as smooth and sweet as honey. “I had no idea what to think when my son said he met the woman he was going to marry and then to see his disappointment when you never returned to the brook.” She shook her head and sighed before her gaze switched from the painting to me. “Did you not find my son desirable?”
Heat filled my cheeks. “No, My Queen. I found him very charming.”
“Then why did you not return to see if he sought you out?” she asked, studying me.
“My father remarried, and his new wife was...strict.” I chose my words carefully.
The queen chuckled. “Would that be the same woman who attempted to drag you out of here after making a fool of herself in front of my son?”
I dropped my gaze and nodded. She went to put her hand on my shoulder and I flinched. I didn’t mean to, but it was a learned reaction from being Lady Githa’s punching bag.
The queen hesitated her eyes widening. “What did that woman do to you, child?”
I had no visible bruises or deformities from her beatings because of the healing properties of the magic. If I were still broken and bruised like I was yesterday, I would have had proof of her behavior, but with my skin as clear and beautiful as it was the day she walked in the house, I had no prayer of being believed.
I clasped the wand in my pocket and wished I could show her how hard things had been since my father died.
The queen gasped, and I met her horrified stare.
I pulled my hand away from the wand.
Her hand fluttered to the cheek that had at one time been as swollen as the rest of my face. If I hadn’t disobeyed my father’s wishes and opened that trunk, I would have very likely been dead or halfway across England by now.
Whatever vision I projected, the queen’s features hardened. Anger flamed in her eyes and she shook her head. “Why?”
I wasn’t sure what to tell her. I thought about showing her, but using magic exhausted me. “She broke every last knickknack that had been my mothers and shredded all my mother’s dresses so I couldn’t go to the ball. I yelled at her, and she nearly beat me to death.”
“How are you...” She waved at me.
I pulled the wand out of my pocket. “The magic. It healed me the moment I picked this up. I am just learning how it all really works.”
She stared at the wooden stick and put her hand out. I gave it to her to inspect. She closed her eyes, and when nothing happened she handed it to me.
“Wish me a bouquet of roses,” she said.
I closed my eyes and imagined a beautiful bouquet of multicolored roses. When my eyes opened, the queen grinned. I handed her the dozen cut roses that had materialized in my hand.
She put them on the table and turned to me with narrowed eyes. “So, if you were to see that woman again...”
My smile faded. “I saw her last night. Riding away from the fire she set, laughing as everything I ever knew went up in flames.”
A crease appeared between her eyes, and her head tilted. “And what did you do?”
“I put out the fire.”
She took a seat on the couch, studying me.
“Every wizard has a choice, My Queen. Cultivate life, or cultivate death. In that moment, I chose the path of light, and I put out the fire to save the town.”
Her soft smile put me at ease, and I took the seat adjacent to her.
“I’m not sure I would have been so forgiving.”
I laughed. “My Queen, you would have done the same thing had you been in my shoes.” She had always been just and charitable with her subjects. I couldn’t envision her being spiteful, but from the sardonic smile on her lips, perhaps I was wrong.
“I have a very vengeful heart, Elle,” she said. “And I am very protective of my only son.”
“Yes, my Queen.” I bowed my head.
“Did you put a spell on him that day at the brook?”
My gaze snapped to hers, and I shook my head. “No. I had no idea magic truly existed until yesterday evening.”
“Did you wish for him?”
Heat filled my cheeks. “I think every available girl in the kingdom wishes for Prince William,” I said. “But no, I didn’t. The magic doesn’t work without the wand. At least I don’t think it does. I have some studying to do to really grasp all the knowledge it infused in me, but nothing I ever wished for before I opened that trunk came true. And believe me, over the last couple of years, I have wished for a lot of things, and each and every one of them went unanswered. If this wand hadn’t been on top of the gown, I’m not sure I would have bothered touching it. It was almost as if the fates knew where to place it so I would pick it up.” I shrugged. “And now I seem to have been endowed with the knowledge of my ancestors. Disobeying my father’s wishes and opening that trunk saved my life,” I admitted.
Sadness filled the queen’s eyes and she reached out and took my hands in hers. “I think I understand why my son is so enamored with you.”
“Truth be told, he has been on my mind since that day as well,” I whispered.
She squeezed my hands and smiled. “He tells me you wagered for sword-fighting lessons?”
I laughed and nodded. “Yes, My Queen, I did. I was taught by the neighboring squire. I wanted to spar with a real knight.”
“Soft and fierce. You are every bit the enigma he described.”
I glanced at my fidgeting hands, uncomfortable with the compliment.
“I am sorry we missed you at your father’s funeral. I found it odd that you didn’t have him cremated like your mother, though.”
I raised my gaze to hers. “Lady Githa and I disagreed on how my father should be put to rest and she forbade me from attending his funeral.”
The color bled from the queen’s cheeks, and her lips pressed together. “And you did not put an end to this woman when you saw her?” she asked through clenched teeth.
I shook my head. “I wanted to. I really did, but she is not worth losing my soul over.”
She leaned back in the seat. “If she crosses my path, she will not be so lucky.” The queen rearranged her skirt, pressing it smooth with her hands before she looked up. “Would you like your father cremated?”
I blinked at the question and stared at her. After I regained my senses, I cleared my tight throat. “I would like that very much. My mother is waiting for him to join her, and with him locked in a box in the ground, I don’t know that he can find her.”
Her smile softened again as she leaned over and rang the bell sitting on the table. Miranda stepped into the room.
“Child, will you go get me the head of the King’s Guard?”
Miranda ran off down the hall, and a few minutes later the largest man I had ever seen stepped into the room dressed in full guard armor. His deep eyes stared at me for a moment before they moved to the queen.
“You called, Your Highness,” he said with a bow.
“Yes. I want you to dig up Lord Seeley’s grave, bring the casket to the courtyard here, and set up a funeral pyre, please.”
My eyebrows rose, but the guard didn’t blink at the request. He just turned and marched away.
I couldn’t speak, I just stared at that empty space where the guard had stood while my brain caught up to what had just happened. That empty ache at not being able to say a proper goodbye to my father bloomed into something I had not felt in ages.
Gratitude.
I bit my bottom lip, glancing at the queen. She patiently waited for me to speak. I tried to smile, but I couldn’t quite manage it. I blinked back the mist that sprang up, forcing it away.
“We will go have a private ceremony for you after we finalize some of the wedding details,” she said as if having your father’s corpse dug up was a common occurrence.
I nodded, still numb from being blindsided by her kindness.
AFTER DINNER HAD BEEN eaten and the plates cleared, the king and queen escorted William and me into the courtyard where a large pyre sat with my father’s freshly wrapped figure atop the pile. I recognized his dress shoes that Lady Githa had insisted he wear in his eternal slumber, grateful that the King’s Guard understood the proper formality of a funeral pyre and did not include the casket.
The care that the guard took tightened my throat with hot tears that I refused to shed in front of the king. When the guard handed me the torch and bowed deep, I pressed my lips together against a tremble.
With shaking hands, I lit the wood and hay, tossing the torch into the lower opening underneath the body. I stepped back far enough to not get singed by the fire, but close enough for the heat to sting. I stood there for as long as I dared before I moved a safer distance away.
William stepped beside me and clasped my hand, threading his fingers through mine. I didn’t look his way as hot tears crested and slid down my cheeks. I stared as the fire reduced what was left of my father to ashes. They swirled in the air like a dust devil, and just for a moment, I glimpsed the forms of both my parents in an eternal embrace before the ash shifted and fell to the ground.
I squeezed William’s hand to let him know I appreciated his silent support and then turned to the king and queen, who stood stoically together with sadness in their eyes.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” I said, curtsying in a way my father would have been proud of.
When I straightened, she reached out and cupped my chin in such a gentle manner that my chin trembled and a new wave of tears flowed. She pulled me into a gentle hug that reminded me so much of my mother that my heart ached in my chest.
All the grief I had not been allowed to release came forth in a wave of shakes and tears. The queen held me and cooed in my ear, gently rubbing my back as I purged my pent-up anguish.
When the last of my tears dried up, I pulled away from Queen Samantha and wiped my face. “Thank you,” I said and wasn’t sure how else to express my gratefulness for everything she had done for me in such a short time.
William wrapped his arm around my shoulder and escorted me to my room. Bleary-eyed and exhausted from the day’s emotional drain, I headed straight for the bed. Without words, he helped me undress, and instead of taking advantage of my vulnerable state, he pulled me into his arms, snuggling as if he knew I needed to be held more than another bedroom adventure.
Quiet blanketed us, and his soft breath caressed my neck in a gentle cadence that matched my own. Being in his arms was like coming home after being lost in a deadly storm. The knowledge that I had found my true soulmate overwhelmed me, mending the pain from the last few years and weaving hope into my soul again.
My muscles relaxed, and I traced the back of his hand, finally lacing my fingers through his. He kissed my cheek gently, igniting the flame low in my belly, but I was too bone-weary to follow through with any of the delicious thoughts that drifted to mind. When his breathing turned deeper and more even, and his arms became heavy, I found myself smiling at the ease in which we fell into this relationship and could finally see a happy future ahead.
As the night deepened, I finally succumbed to sleep.
Chapter 13
The next few days flew by in a flurry of activity. Planning a royal wedding usually took months, sometimes years, but we did it in less than a week. By the time I made it back to my bedroom with the prince, I was exhausted, and my head spun from all the details still yet to tackle.
Prince William made up for those long days of wedding planning with evenings of lovemaking that exceeded our first night together, leaving us both exhausted and panting in each other’s arms. In those moments, I forgot everything. His gentle touch transcended reality, lifting me into the clouds where all my prior strife was meaningless. He made me forget my sorrow and pain, replacing it with a joy I had never experienced.
On the eve before our wedding, Prince William led
me down the hall towards my bed chambers, whispering his intentions in my ear. My muscles tingled with anticipation, and I couldn’t wait to get inside my room so the Prince could make good on his hushed promises. He kissed me and pushed open my door.
A throat cleared, and our lips parted.
Miranda stood in the center of the room with her arms crossed. “It’s the night before your wedding. You are to sleep in separate quarters.”
We both balked.
“Queen’s orders,” she said.
I exchanged a glance with William and shrugged. I wasn’t about to stomp on an order from the queen, no matter how much my body wanted the prince’s naughty suggestions. She had been too good to me to defy her wishes.
“Good night, William,” I whispered in his ear. I loved the way his eyes closed whenever I whispered his name. It was as if he were tasting the most delicious delicacy known to man.
He glanced sideways at me as a grin toyed with his lips. “Good night, Elle,” he said and planted a searing kiss despite Miranda being in the room.
My breath quickened in response. When he released me, my knees wobbled, but held my weight. My gaze stayed with him until he closed the door and then I turned and dropped onto the couch, aware that every nerve ending in my body was calling for him. I glanced at Miranda.
“I’m sorry, my lady, but the queen...”
I waved her off. “I understand. It’s just when he does that, I lose my mind.”
Miranda giggled.
Heat filled my cheeks. “I hope someday you find someone who makes you lose your mind in the best ways possible.” I smiled at her.
A yawn caught me off guard, and I stood, heading into the bedroom. Now that the promise of a sexual romp had been removed, utter exhaustion sank in, and it took all I had to keep my eyes open as I peeled my clothing off and crawled under the covers.
“Good night, Miranda,” I said.
“Good night, my lady,” Miranda replied dousing the candles before she retired to the couch with a blanket.
