by B. B. Hamel
“It just seems so crazy. I mean, it’s the twenty-first century, and this country still has a king.”
He nodded, frowning. “I’ve been reading about that. Apparently there are a lot of people who want that to change.”
“I read about that, too.”
“But I don’t know. This country has a lower crime rate and a higher literacy rate than America does. They seem to be doing okay.”
“That’s a good point.” I frowned at him and he just smiled.
“Don’t worry too much about it. It’s not like we can change anything.”
Just then, Lucy stepped out of their room. She was wearing a floor-length gown with her hair in a complicated updo. She looked like she was going to prom.
“You look great,” Dad said to her, kissing her on the cheek.
“Thanks, Robert.” She gave me a look. “Are you going to behave?”
I glared at her. “I don’t plan on hitting anyone, if that’s what you’re asking.”
She smiled. “Good. Let’s go enjoy ourselves, shall we?”
As we moved down the hall, a servant appeared out of nowhere. It was like he materialized from the wall.
“This way, please,” he said. He was wearing the same outfit all of the servants wore, a black jacket over white dress pants. Even the women wore a version of this outfit, which was strange, but no stranger than everything else we’d seen so far.
He led us down a series of twisting hallways. I was too busy staring at the art on the walls to really notice exactly where we were walking. The place was just so overwhelmingly beautiful, and every inch of it was decorated like an art gallery. Twisting sculptures depicting famous battles and myths from their history dotted the place, and I didn’t recognize a single thing.
As we came up to an ornate set of double doors, I realized how little I knew about this place. Starkland seemed very familiar on the surface, since it was another European country, but I didn’t know a thing about their nation, about what the people liked, about their history. It was completely and utterly foreign to me, a total mystery.
The servant pushed open the double doors. “Announcing Robert, Lucy, and Bryce Koch of America,” he called out, and music began to play.
If I thought walking through the quiet, empty halls was overwhelming, then stepping into an enormous banquet room packed with people was even worse. Live music played as people clapped and we were ushered inside. As we went, I recognized a few faces in the crowd from my time researching Starkland on Wikipedia. These were famous men and women, the upper levels of the upper levels, the best of the best. Some of them were ministers in the cabinet, and some of them were prominent business people, but all of them were powerful.
We were taken to a long table at the very front of the room. Sitting at the middle of the table was Trip, grinning down at me like he knew what I was thinking. He was wearing more formal clothing this time, and I couldn’t help but think how incredibly handsome he looked.
Finally, once we were seated with my father on my right and my stepmother on my left, Trip raised his hands and stood. The room went absolutely quiet for him.
“Ladies and gentlemen, ministers and citizens, welcome to this important dinner,” he said in a loud, clear voice. “For tonight, we welcome a piece of our history. Hundreds of years ago, in a dispute over succession, my family took over as the royal family of Starkland, ousting the old rulers. Well, everyone, those old rulers are back, but they’re not here to toss me on my ass.”
The room laughed at his joke, and he just smiled at them.
“No, they’re here to visit and to see our country. Hopefully we can give them a taste of what their family once ruled over. Now, Robert, Lucy, and Bryce, I offer you this as a gift of friendship from the Brunhild family. Maximillian?”
The old servant who showed us to our rooms earlier stepped toward Dad, who stood up. They shook hands and Maximillian handed him a thick cylinder covered in wax at both ends.
“Robert Koch, this is a very, very old scroll that we found in our libraries only a couple of weeks ago. When you get a chance to open it, you’ll find that it’s a family tree of your ancestors up until the final rulers, hand drawn by some scholar of their time. It’s priceless, and I hope you enjoy it.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Dad said.
“Now, everyone, enough of me talking. Let’s eat and celebrate, Starkland style!”
Everyone clapped and began to sit down. The servants immediately stepped up from behind us and began to fill our glasses with beer and wine. Soon food began to arrive, and in huge quantities.
I quickly understood how people in Starkland liked to celebrate. Basically, they drank a ton of their beer, a thick and delicious brew that I couldn’t pronounce the name of, and they ate a ton of meat. It was like we were back in medieval times again, as we were served hunks of game and fresh fish and other amazing food.
As I sat up at that table, eating as much as I could, the whole meal felt absolutely surreal. These were some of the most powerful people in the country, and yet they were all assembled for this dinner, presumably just to welcome us to their country.
It didn’t really make any sense. There was no media in the room, so it wasn’t like this was just another photo op for the king. Maybe people in Starkland took these sorts of things really seriously, and any excuse to get together and drink tons of beer was good enough for them.
But it still felt strange. I couldn’t understand most of the conversation going on around me, since it was in another language, but I did catch my name every once in awhile. People kept glancing over at us, too, and I got the distinct feeling that they were looking at me in particular.
I couldn’t make any sense of it. I wasn’t all that interesting, and it was really my father that people should have been interested in. Maybe it was because I had slapped the king earlier that day, and everyone was talking about that.
As the dinner wore on, I suddenly felt a presence behind me and noticed a few people glancing up at me. I turned and Trip was standing there, smiling down at me.
“How are you liking our beer?” he asked.
I smiled. “It’s good.”
“I’m glad you think so. We take it pretty seriously in Starkland.”
“I can tell. You all drink enough of it.”
He laughed. “We can’t drink nearly enough, and that’s the problem. We always find ourselves wanting more. Do you have that problem, Bryce?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t had much of the beer yet.”
“Well, I hope we can leave you wanting more.”
I couldn’t help but hear something else behind his words, but his smile was innocent enough. He reached out a hand for me and I took it, shaking. When he pulled his hand back, I felt something in my palm, a piece of paper.
I quickly closed my hand, swallowing up the paper, and I could have sworn he winked at me. He quickly turned away and began to make the rounds of the room, shaking hands and smiling.
My cheeks felt hot as I glanced down at the tiny piece of paper he’d left for me. Written in neat, concise letters was a note.
It read: “Meet me in ten. Back door, turn left.”
I bit my lip, staring at the note. He wanted us to ditch out on this dinner, but I had no clue for what.
Trip was a mystery, a very difficult mystery, but I could already tell that I didn’t want to solve him. He was dangerous and cocky, not the kind of man I’d ever really wanted before.
I crumpled up the note and slipped it into my little clutch. No, I wasn’t going to meet the king for some secret rendezvous. I was going to stay right here and eat this nice dinner and enjoy myself.
There just wasn’t anything tempting about this bad boy king. At least, I had to keep telling myself that if I was going to be able to resist him.
6
Trip
I hated shaking hands. You could never be sure where their fingers had just been, and they always held on for too lon
g. Everyone wanted a piece of their king, and I didn’t have very many pieces to give.
The only hand I enjoyed touching was Bryce’s. I saw the look on her face when she read my note. She had looked defiant but excited, her breath coming in sharp and short.
I did my duty and gave everyone a small piece of attention. It was part of my job to glad-hand these people, since one day I might need them. I had to keep them happy if I wanted to keep them obedient.
Though how many of these people in here were supporting the rebellion, I couldn’t be sure. Some of them were rebellious bastards, and that was certain, but how many of them exactly was a mystery.
It didn’t matter, at least not tonight. I wasn’t going to solve any serious national crises over a feast.
No, I had more important things to do.
Once I was finished with the room, I quickly disappeared out the front door. My security detail stuck with me as I doubled back through the side halls, heading toward the balcony.
I pushed open the doors and stepped outside. I looked at the security captain, a man named Alfonse.
“Al, stay back, will you? The girl might be coming soon. Let her through if she shows.”
He nodded. “Very well, sir.”
They melted into the hallway as I stepped out onto the large balcony. It overlooked the city, and I was always impressed by the view.
Stehen was as modern a city as we had in Starkland, though the country was slowly catching up. The Starklandian people were hearty peasant folks, but they sure as hell loved their high-speed internet and their iPads. As far as I was concerned, progress was a great thing, and I wanted every single person in my kingdom to advance in life.
That was what bothered me the most about the rebels in the south. They wanted democracy, which was all well and good, but they also thought I was some kind of tyrant. Truthfully, the cabinet ministers did most of the ruling, and I was only consulted on the most important matters. Besides, I only wanted what was best for my people. I wanted every single one of them to have the best life possible, and I couldn’t do that with the rebels killing and attacking towns and villages.
They called me a tyrant. They called me a dictator, a killer. But the truth was, those rebels were far more violent than I ever was. I cautioned my generals, made sure they didn’t harm any civilians, but the rebels didn’t care about that. They burned, raped, and killed indiscriminately, all in the name of democracy. They were really just a bunch of killers and thieves seizing this opportunity to wreak some havoc.
I took a deep breath and then let it out, calming myself down. Democracy was something I wanted for Starkland as well, but it just wasn’t the time. Things were too uncertain.
I heard steps coming up behind me and turned. Standing in the doorway, looking nervous, was Bryce.
I grinned hugely at her. I knew she’d come. “Fancy seeing you here,” I said to her.
“It’s beautiful out here,” she said, walking toward me.
Instantly my heart started beating harder in my chest. The girl was absolutely gorgeous, with long beautiful legs and a body that I needed to feel underneath me. Every inch of her skin screamed to be touched and fucked, especially those lips.
“I come out here sometimes,” I said, turning back toward the city. “I like to look out over Stehen and think about my duties.”
“What are your duties?” she asked, coming up next to me at the balcony.
“Truthfully, not as many as you’d think. I may be the king, but it’s still the twenty-first century. I’m not some absolute dictator.”
“Sounds really difficult,” she said, sarcastic.
I laughed. “I guess you wouldn’t understand.”
“You’re right. I’m just a regular peasant.”
“True. A regular peasant, but a beautiful one and with good ancestry.”
“You’re so flattering.” She rolled her eyes at me.
I laughed again, smirking at her. “What do you think of all this so far?”
“It’s nice,” she admitted. “Starkland is a beautiful country.”
“It is,” I agreed. “I love it.”
“I can see why. I mean, some of this stuff is nicer than America.”
“I take pride in trying to keep the country modern.”
“But it’s the ancient stuff that makes it so gorgeous, you know?”
I nodded. “I couldn’t agree more, which is actually why I wanted to speak with you.”
“You want to talk about architecture with me?”
I shook my head. “No. Not exactly. I wanted to talk about you.”
“I think you’ve done enough of that already,” she said.
“Maybe. Do you know why you’re here, Bryce?”
“I assumed it was because you guys wanted a little photo op with my father. It’s good PR to have the old royal family make nice with the current one, right?”
I grinned hugely, really enjoying how quickly she had grasped that concept. Bryce was clearly a very intelligent girl, not to mention gorgeous and fiery. I found myself wanting to press her against the railing, slide my hands up along her legs, and feel exactly how soaking wet she was. I didn’t care who saw us.
“That’s right,” I said instead, “but it’s not the whole story.”
“Well, go ahead and tell me. I have nothing else to do.”
“Truth is, Bryce, I need an heir. In a monarchy, especially in a Starklandian monarchy, royal boy children are the most important thing. Since I’m without children, I need to make some, and quick.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying?”
“My advisors believe you’d be the perfect match,” I said. “You’re American and foreign, but you have royal blood in your veins. They think that if we got married, you could give me sons and strengthen my legitimacy.”
She gaped at me. “That’s what this is about?”
“That’s right,” I said. “My advisors want you to marry me. And I want to fuck that perfect, soaking pussy of yours and put my child inside you.”
She stepped away from me, her eyes wide. “We barely know each other.”
“True,” I said, agreeing. “We have two weeks to fix that, though.”
“This is crazy,” she said softly.
“Relax,” I said, laughing. “Nobody is forcing you into anything. I swear that no matter what, this will be your choice. But you should think about it. There are perks to being the queen of Starkland.”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t want to be queen of anything.”
“Maybe not, but you do want to feel me between your legs. I can see it in your eyes.” I stepped toward her, smirking at her, my heart racing. “I know you want to taste my cock, feel my hands slap your ass as I fuck you until you come.”
“No,” she said softly. “You’re just a crude asshole.”
“Maybe, but I’m a crude asshole king. I can give you things you can only dream about.”
“I don’t want anything from you.”
“Not yet you don’t.”
“Not ever. No way.” She turned back toward the castle. “Take me back to my room.”
“If that’s what you want.” I followed her inside and nodded at my guards. “They’ll take you back. I need to return to the banquet.”
She followed Al for a few steps before stopping and looking back at me. There was something wild and intense in her gaze, something I couldn’t exactly read. She shook her head and then turned away and was gone.
That last look sent shivers down my spine. I didn’t know what it meant, and I was very good at reading people. One second the girl seemed to despise me, and the next I could see true passion in her eyes.
It was beyond exciting. I’d never met a woman like her who didn’t instantly throw herself at me. There were millions of women in Starkland who would do anything to be my queen.
But not Bryce Koch. She was just some foreign American girl of no real consequence, and yet I wanted her more than I could expl
ain.
Maybe it was madness, or maybe there was something else. Either way, I was going to have her. By the end of this trip, Bryce was going to beg to be my queen, and once she finally did, I’d give her exactly what she wanted.
7
Bryce
There was no way I was becoming some breeder for this royal asshole.
There was just no way. I didn’t come out to Starkland just to become Trip’s wife or whatever he wanted. That was just absolutely insane.
We didn’t know each other. Sure, he didn’t actually say that it was his idea, but he also wasn’t acting as if the whole thing was crazy.
It was crazy, though. Absolutely, definitely, totally insane.
As I sat down on my enormous bed, I was so furious and humiliated. That was why there were so many important people invited to that dinner. They all wanted to get a glimpse at the foreigner who might become the new queen of Starkland.
And I was betting that everyone knew but me. Everyone in that room had been talking and looking at me because everyone knew why I was really there. Meanwhile, I’d been sitting at that table like an idiot, totally unaware of what was happening around me.
Trip wanted to marry me. More than that, he wanted to get me pregnant. I pictured him pressing his hard, muscular body against mine, his lips grazing my neck as he pressed my hands behind my back. Trip would take me however he wanted, because that was the kind of man Trip was.
I shook my head, dispelling that thought. It wasn’t the time to fantasize about the king. I was angry, not excited, although my wet underwear begged to differ.
I clenched my jaw and got changed out of my dress. The only thing I wanted was to get out of Starkland as fast as possible. I wanted to get on the first flight home and never, ever think about Trip, the king who wanted to knock me up and lock me away in some tower.
Once I was changed, I flopped down on my bed and resumed my internet research. I went through page after page about Trip, most of it in Starklandian and a lot of it poorly translated. I cobbled together as much information about him as I could, but none of it gave me a clearer picture.
