The King's Virgin Bride
Page 7
“You threw me away without so much as a thought,” Ignora complains, “all for that blonde whore! Where did you find her? She seems barely old enough to go out unsupervised!”
I resist the urge to tell her to shut up about Gwen. Ignora doesn’t know anything about her, and I’d rather keep it that way as much as possible. But I have to assuage Ignora’s fears.
For my country.
I feel like I’ll have to remind myself of that a lot.
“She’s just a childhood friend. I hadn’t seen her in years. We were both…surprised.”
Ignora looks at me expectantly, clearly not deeming my explanation acceptable.
And she shouldn’t. Gwen is so much fucking more to me than just some friend…
But if I’m going to sit on this throne and obey my duty, it will have to be a throne of lies.
“It was…a joke,” I venture. “We used to play jokes on the adults around us as kids all of the time. We even declared we were going to marry! They didn’t find it funny.”
Ignora looks as if she agrees with the adults of my past.
Resisting the urge to recoil, I walk over to Ignora again and take her hands, but she doesn’t look at me.
“It got out of hand, Ignora. I’m sorry. I truly am. Call it the final cry of the boy inside me. And now it’s out of my system. It will never happen again. You have my word.”
She looks at me, all bitterness and pointed insults sitting on the tip of her tongue, just looking for an excuse to be released.
“Well…alright, then. So, I’ll still be queen?”
If it wasn’t for losing Gwen, that would be the worst part. Ingora, queen of my people. The very thought makes my stomach turn.
“Yes,” I say thinly. “You’ll still be queen.”
Ignora’s eyes light up as she’s reminded of the attractive king that she’ll be married to if she accepts my apology.
Well, not that she cares about me. She cares about my title. But I know she likes the way I look, either way.
“And what will you do about the previous ‘announcement’?”
“I’ll make a new announcement, of course. With you by my side.”
Oh, how Ignora smiles at that.
The adoration of an entire nation is exactly what she’s marrying me for, after all.
“And what will you say to the press?”
God, do I have to spell out everything to this woman? I feel as if I’ve doomed myself to a life of explaining every tiny detail of why I want to do or say anything to Ignora. I detest the idea so much, I can hardly stand it.
What makes it more difficult is that, with Gwen, I’d never have to explain a thing. Not a goddamn thing.
She’d simply know.
I smile easily for Ignora, relying on my acting skills once more.
“I’ll tell them what I told you, of course—the truth. That it was a joke that simply got out of hand. That, once the alcohol wore off and I came to my senses, there you were, and how could I not wish to marry you?”
Lord, Ignora must know I’m lying through my teeth, but she laps the compliment up all the same.
She sighs dramatically. “Well, if that’s the case, then I guess there’s no helping it,” she says, sanctimonious as shit. “I’ll marry you. But if you so much as—”
“I know, I know,” I interrupt. “I won’t get a second chance. I won’t go near Gwen again.”
And even though it kills me…I know I have to keep my word.
Not for Ignora’s sake. Not even for my people’s—and certainly not for my own.
No. It’s for Gwen. Everything—all of this—it’s for her.
I just hope the Marquis de Roach realizes the full extent of her worth.
I certainly won’t forget.
Chapter 14
Gwen
All I want to do is get out of Edward’s palace. I don’t belong here.
I guess I never did.
It was stupid to think that I—that we—could be together.
We both have responsibilities much bigger than ourselves, and we owe it to our people to fulfill them.
Suddenly, I feel a pair of hands clutching at my waist. I know who it must be—and I desperately don’t want to turn around to look him in the eye because of it.
The Roach breathes heavily into my ear. I shiver involuntarily.
“Leaving before the real announcement, my sweet?”
His words are sickly smooth and soft, belying his harsh, steely grip on my waist, his fingers digging painfully into my skin.
Clearly, his anger hasn’t yet dissipated. But his words confuse me enough to make me turn around and face him.
“What do you mean, ‘real announcement’?”
The Roach gives me a slimy grin before casting a sideways glance to his right.
To the stage.
Which King Edward and Ignora are just walking up to.
I feel as if I’ve been slapped in the face. Sure, I know I had accepted that our romance couldn’t work. I know that.
And yet...
Seeing Edward come to the same conclusion and move on so quickly stings like hell.
Well. I trust him not to have actually moved on, but he’s recovered enough to do the right thing by his country.
I wish I had his maturity. But until I possess it, simply watching his pierces my heart like a thousand hot needles.
I can vaguely hear my reproachful fiancé laughing in amusement. It’s such an ugly sound; it makes me want to tape his mouth shut.
Even though it pains me to do so, I walk back toward the stage even as my brain screams at me to leave, leave, leave. I join the growing crowd awaiting their king’s new announcement.
Just another one of his subjects.
I force my eyes to keep watch of Edward on the stage—I owe it to myself to stand here strong and listen.
I’m not prepared for his eyes meeting mine and for there to be...nothing. His eyes display no emotion: no distress, no anguish, simply—
Nothing.
The Roach creeps up behind me, placing his hands back on my hips as if to demonstrate that I’m his.
I feel like retching.
Edward’s eyes move from mine as he scans the crowd and smiles beautifully for them. They love him; they’ll forgive him for his earlier transgression.
How could we have been lying in each other’s arms, laughing and exploring each other without a care in the world, mere hours ago? It feels like a lifetime ago.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Edward begins, and the crowd hushes to take in his every word.
All around us, camera bulbs flash as the hungry press take their photos of Edward and Ignora, their arms intertwined as she grins smugly for the crowd.
“I most deeply apologize for my little stunt with Princess Gwen earlier.” Some eyes divert their attention from Edward to me, but only for a second.
After all, who am I next to their king?
“But that is exactly all it was,” Edward continues, “a stunt. Princess Gwen and I have known each other since we were young, and I admit that we got carried away after having not seen each other for so long. It was an echo back of our childish past of playing jokes on our elders.”
His eyes find mine again, but they remain stoic. To keep up the charade, I nod my head in agreement and smile somewhat bashfully for the audience’s benefit.
They seem to believe it. Good.
Edward turns to look at Ignora, a charming smile on his face.
“I am, of course, to be wed to the beautiful and elegant lady beside me, Ignora. I’m sure she will be thrilled to take any of your questions at the end of this announcement.”
One look at the woman is all you need to know that Ignora will be more than thrilled. It appears as if she’s lived for nothing but this moment her entire life.
And Edward will be married to her.
I choke back a sudden sob as the realization fully hits me, just as Edward finishes his speech. A solitary tear running down
my cheek betrays me. I quickly duck my head down to prevent anyone from seeing my current state.
I wish I could simply disappear.
I wish I were home.
Just—anywhere from here. Anywhere away from Edward.
If I can’t have him, and if he can’t look at me the way he was looking at me earlier, then I’d rather be a million miles away, with my precious few, glorious memories of the two of us for company.
Risking a glance back up, Edward just barely catches my eyes before turning to face the press again.
Nothing.
He’s a truly excellent actor. I suppose he needs to be, as king.
So I turn on my heels to leave, forgetting about the odious creature still attached to my hips.
“And where are you going now? Can’t wait to get home and be wed, my love?” Roach asks gleefully as he tugs me away from the crowd faster than I wanted to leave.
“Stop—stop dragging me. I can walk by myself.”
“Considering how fucking trashed you got earlier and the mess you got yourself into by yourself, I somehow doubt that. I’m not leaving you alone from now on.”
I feel my blood chill at the mere thought.
So I won’t even be left alone with my thoughts now.
Great. Fucking great.
The look on Roach’s face brooks no argument; his earlier aggression is still there, simmering under the surface. I know I’m going to pay for my earlier actions in private.
Oh, what have I done?
I could have prevented all of this. Had I merely acted like the princess I’m supposed to be in the first place, I wouldn’t have a seething, monstrous creep of a fiancé. Sure, he’d still be a creep, but he’d have no reason to be angry.
But no. If I think about it, how could I regret the precious time I spent with Edward?
In his arms, with his mouth on my skin, sucking on my breast, tongue gently swirling over my—
I stop the thoughts before it becomes apparent what I’m thinking about.
In reality, all I regret is that Edward never properly took my virginity away. And now it’ll belong to...
I can’t even look at my so-called fiancé. Is this what my life has truly been reduced to?
The man I want—the man I love and need—is getting farther and farther behind me, in the arms of another woman.
And I can do nothing. Will do nothing.
In order to be a proper, responsible princess and for Edward to be a gracious, beloved king, we must do nothing.
There’s that word again. I suddenly find myself detesting it.
But as the Roach gives me a slimy, lascivious look, I steel myself to feel precisely the thing I hate.
Nothing.
Chapter 15
Edward
For the first time in my life, I’m in no mood to party.
After I made my announcement to the party, it felt like the entire palace let out a collective sigh of relief. Now they’re all partying, happy that no scandal will befall their precious palace walls.
Ugh, fuck them all.
They have no idea what Gwen’s decision to stay engaged to the marquis did for them. Not like they’ll appreciate it anyway. They’ll go back to their dull little lives, reading about me over tea to their knitting circle, or gossiping about me to coworkers around some watercooler.
People always think the life of a royal is so great. It’s all just opulence, jewels, hot maids, awesome food, and unlimited partying disguised as social functions. And sure, everything might seem like it’s all fun and games—until you’re forced to marry some ogre to prove your loyalty to the kingdom.
Looking out the window onto the city, I try to convince myself that it’s all worth it, but I just can’t get Gwen’s face out of my head.
It was total agony seeing her with that skinny little Roach motherfucker clutching her with his claws wrapped around her body. Ugh, I wish I could grab him by the scruff of his shirt and throw his ass out the window.
I can’t imagine what’s running through her head right now. I guess she’s going through her own personal mental dilemma, too. I know she wanted me—wanted to be with me—there’s no doubt in my mind.
We both thought we could completely follow our hearts without any thought to the trouble it would cause.
We both should’ve known better.
Why ruin everything over simple lustful desire? Even a desire as potent and earth-quaking as ours may be. We both know what it takes to be royals. We both have commitments and, above all, we know that our royal duties come first.
I know I sound like a stiff prick saying that, but it’s the god’s honest truth. Within the royal family, you can party hard, get drunk, do drugs, and do whatever you want as long as it stays behind closed doors and the tabloids never find out.
But as soon as the time comes to start our official royal duties, all games have to stop.
Shut it down.
Game over.
Get to work.
We all put our heads down and do our duties to our country.
I know it sounds like a shitty situation, but I’m damn proud to be king. You have no idea how lucky I am to be this powerful simply by birth. I get to have a voice simply because of who my family is.
Sometimes when I think about it I get a rock-hard erection. I just stand in front of my window and think, Fuck yeah. I rule this shit. Maybe that sounds a little cocky, but that’s how it is when you’re a royal.
You’re not a normal person. You’re almost like a demigod. There’s no point in trying to pretend to be all meek and oh-so-humble about it.
It feels fucking powerful!
And I honestly felt that Gwen could be a part of that power, that domination. Just the two of us, against the world. And that she wanted that, too.
How naive of me.
But I guess it’s too late for what ifs now. At the end of the day, no one placed a gun to my head and forced me to fuck up my own engagement party and propose to someone who wasn’t my fiancé.
No, that was my dick’s fault. He started it, and then my heart took over and finished it. If only my body would let my brain do the work sometimes.
Why did I allow myself to get carried away by her? Sure, she’s the hottest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on, but I should’ve used some restraint. God, I’m an adult, not some horny, hormonal teenager with my cock always in my hands.
But something came over me. The second I saw her, all grown up, her piercing eyes and perky tits all alive and eager, it all just pierced right through me.
It was like I was hypnotized.
Suddenly, I was sucked into her orbit and wanted every last bit of her. She was a drug, and I wanted to inhale her, taste her, and be inside of her. I’m getting aroused again just thinking about it.
Ha, Ignora-what’s-her-face wishes she could have that kind of allure on me. If Ignora could look me in the eye and make me instantly horny, I wouldn’t even need to fantasize about Gwen.
In fact, if I was satisfied with Ignora, I would be fucking her right now and having an amazing engagement party. I would have zero worries and everything would be great.
Instead, everything is so damn complicated now. I want to choose Gwen—maybe even at the expense of my country—but Gwen is being the honorable one. She’s choosing to keep the promise her family made to the Roach’s family.
I admire her commitment, even if I hate who she’s committing to. You’d think as the king I’d be able to have whatever I desired delivered to me on a silver platter. But Gwen, she’s got a mind of her own.
A mind that matches her sexy body, a body that makes me throb with desire.
My country or my heart? Gwen or my subjects? Oh, for fuck’s sake—why can’t I have both?!
I seriously wish I could just say, “Fuck it” and do whatever the hell I want.
In a perfect world, I could. I could just walk out one today, address the country with the news of my engagement changes, everyone would be happy, and ever
ything would end perfectly. All wrapped up in a pretty bow.
Happily fucking ever after.
The problem is the damn tabloids.
If only I had the power to abolish them. Then, I wouldn’t have to worry about what those assholes splash on their front pages every day. Savages.
I wish I could forget this day.
I wander over to my liquor cabinet and pour myself a glass of brandy. I sip it for a second, running my nose around the rim, and then quickly down it.
A few seconds later my senses dull and the warmth shoots down my spine.
I pour myself a new glass, this time to the top, and down the whole thing again. And again.
Oh, sweet Gwen.
Her gorgeous face flashes in my mind again.
Suddenly, events start replaying in my head.
Images of her legs up as her body convulses with me between them. My hands on her perfect tits as I reach for her slender throat. Her skin is so soft, it’s like she was woven from silk.
With the images in my head, I collapse into my chair, overwhelmed.
Now I’m moaning as the room spins around me.
God, I’m pathetic.
I grab my crotch and start to rub my alcohol-soaked cock. I’m way too drunk to get hard, of course. And now I’m even more frustrated and sad.
Fuck royal duties.
Fuck the country.
What have they done for me? Do they even appreciate what I do for them?
They don’t!
I stand up as I stumble to the window again.
“Fuck all of you!” I slur into the glowing city outside my window. “You have no idea of the...sacrifices...I made!”
I wander over to my desk and collapse into my chair again. I whack my head against the desk with a loud thud and moan.
“Gwen,” I mumble to myself. “Gwen.”
I close my eyes and imagine us back in the garden. The feeling of my rock-hard dick in her perfect little mouth—her eyes looking up at me with complete trust and admiration.
I can’t just pretend all that was drunken nonsense, can I? Just pretend I don’t have human emotions because of my obligations?
But what about my people? Won’t they hate me forever for this?
I open my eyes. The room is spinning.