by B. B. Hamel
“Good.” He melted away, giving us some space.
“Sorry,” I said, turning to Bryce and switching back to English. “There was another emergency.”
“Bad?” she asked.
“Honestly, probably not. There seems to be an emergency every few minutes these days.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I kissed her softly on the lips again. I needed just one more taste. “We need to go, though.”
“Okay.”
She followed me back out of the copse of trees. I didn’t want to leave them. There was a special feeling in there, like I was surrounded by history, by the history of my family and of my people. More importantly, I wanted to press Bryce up against one of those ancient, magic trees and fuck her rough and deep until she screamed my name and came hard as fuck. I wanted her dripping wet and begging by the time I was finished with her perfect, tight little pussy.
She was the first woman I’d ever brought to that spot. Very few people went there outside my family. For some reason, that felt right. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
23
Bryce
I kept thinking about that kiss in the forest as I waited for my father and Lucy to arrive. Less than a day had passed, and they were already heading down to the estate in a guarded caravan.
History and power and sex and politics. That was what I got myself wrapped up in when I got involved with Trip. His family was ancient, as was his world. I was just an American girl, a regular person, and yet somehow I was thrust deep into it all.
In the back of my mind, I knew he still wanted to marry me and get me pregnant. I was still freaked out by that, but I was just going with this thing. Maybe he wanted to put the royal baby in me, but I wasn’t ready to jump into that role. I wasn’t going to be queen.
It had felt incredible to be walking toward the river like that with Trip opening up. And then, to make that moment even more right, he kissed me. I wrapped my arms around him as he pulled me against his body, his lips warm against mine, his tongue soft in my mouth. I couldn’t stop myself, even if it was so dangerous to get involved with the king. I should have backed off and left the country. I should have gone back to safety.
But I couldn’t. Standing in that ancient, magical forest, I couldn’t help but kiss the bad boy king. Trip was too much and everything I wanted. More than that, he made me feel things I thought I’d forgotten. I’d never thought I had that inside me, much less with the intensity that he made me feel it. But there I was, kissing the king in some beautiful and surreal forest, and it had felt right. It had felt so damn right.
Most of the day passed as I waited. Trip had promised to have my parents back by dinnertime, and I believed him. I smiled to myself as I picture Lucy getting shoved into a car without any time to get herself ready. She was probably fuming. The thought made everything so worth it.
Around seven that night, the cars finally arrived.
They pulled into the front drive like a long snake. I had no clue which car my parents were in, but I stood there in the doorway, eagerly waiting for them. Trip wasn’t around, but that wasn’t surprising.
Finally, my father and Lucy climbed out of the fifth car in the row of seven. He waved, and, to my absolute delight, Lucy looked very annoyed.
“Hey, sweetie,” Dad said. “That was one hell of a ride.”
I laughed. “Right? Starkland is pretty.”
“Beautiful,” Lucy said, sarcastic. “Did you know that they didn’t even give me a chance to do my hair? Barbarians.”
I smiled sweetly at her. “Good to see you too, Lucy. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Yeah, honey, I’m glad you’re fine. I just can’t believe they rushed me out like that. And then shoved us into a car for hours!”
Dad looked at me apologetically, and I just smiled at him. “I’m glad you guys are here,” I said. “What kind of family vacation would it be without my family?”
“That’s a great point,” he said. “Though vacations are usually more fun when there aren’t assassination attempts involved.”
I heard a noise behind me and half turned. Trip walked over, smiling. He was wearing his usual kingly uniform of a black jacket, a white shirt, and no tie. Everything was perfectly tailored and manicured, though I could see the stress and the exhaustion in the corners of his eyes.
“Welcome,” he said to Dad and Lucy. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m sorry about the way things have worked out.”
“It’s okay, Your Highness,” Lucy said, her mood changing instantly. I couldn’t help but repress a smile at the way Trip perked her mood up. Nothing like royalty to put Lucy in a better mindset. “We’re just so happy that you’re extending us this kindness in such a troubled time. Please, let me say how sorry we are for everything.”
“No need,” Trip said. He turned to my father. “How was the trip?”
“Fine,” Dad said. “Thanks again for this, Your Highness.”
“Please, call me Trip.”
“Okay, Trip. So long as you call me Robert.”
Trip laughed and gestured for us to follow him. “Of course, Robert. Are you three hungry?”
“Starving,” I said.
“Good,” Trip answered. “We’ll go get something. My chef made a special little dinner for the four of us.”
Lucy could hardly contain her excitement as we strolled through the halls. Trip led the way with me just behind him. My father gave me a look that I ignored. He had clearly noticed something, though I really wished he hadn’t. It was pretty awkward when your father knew you were involved with a king.
We wound up walking into a small dining room in the back corner of the main building. The table was already set for the four of us, and we took our seats. Trip sat next to me, with Lucy and Dad on the other side.
“This is so lovely,” Lucy said.
“It’s our private dining room,” Trip said, gesturing around. “I used to eat here as a kid. Not a lot of people get to see it.”
Lucy looked pleased as hell, and Trip gave me a quick wink. I realized that he was just placating her, making her feel special. Trip was impressive when it came to reading people and giving them what they wanted.
Soon the food arrived, and I hadn’t been lying when I’d said I was hungry. I felt mainly relief and a slow removal of tension now that my father and Lucy had arrived. For all her faults, Lucy was still family, so I was glad she was safe.
Dad held up his glass of wine. “To the king,” he said. “And to Starkland. Thanks again for your hospitality, Trip.”
“Here, here,” Trip said. “Prost.”
“Prost,” Lucy echoed, and then we drank.
“Tell me, Robert,” Trip said as we began to dig into the delicious meal, “did you go on many vacations as a family?”
“No,” he admitted. “It was tough. Bryce’s mother died when Bryce was very young, and I didn’t marry Lucy here until a couple of years ago. For a while, it was just me and Bryce.”
“Being a single father must be difficult, especially with Bryce. I’m sure she was a handful.”
Dad laughed. “She was when she was young.”
“She’s still a handful now,” Trip said, grinning at me.
“I hope she’s behaving herself,” Lucy said, giving me the evil eye.
I ignored her. “Dad did a great job,” I said. “I’m sure I didn’t make things simple.”
“Nothing is ever simple,” Trip said. “I’m learning that more and more.”
“Can I ask how the situation is going?” Dad asked apprehensively.
“Difficult,” Trip said simply.
“Well,” Lucy said, speaking up, clearly changing the subject, “I hope Bryce hasn’t embarrassed our country yet.”
Trip laughed, and I felt his hand gently squeeze my knee. I wanted to climb across the table and strangle Lucy, but I did like that Trip’s first instinct was to comfort me.
“Bryce isn’t embarrassing anything,” he
said.
“Well, she did slap you,” Lucy answered.
He laughed again, shaking his head. “We like a little fire in Starkland,” he said. “Don’t worry. The media ate it up.”
“Yes, they did,” Lucy grumbled.
“Bryce has been nothing but a model example of a great American girl,” Trip said. “The ministers are all very impressed.”
“Really?” Dad asked.
“Absolutely. She gave me some good advice when the attempt first happened, actually. She’s invaluable.”
“Stop,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m just a drag on your time.”
“Not at all,” he said seriously. “I’ve very much enjoyed spending my time with you.”
“Well,” Dad said, clearing his throat, “I’m glad Bryce is behaving herself.”
“Not exactly,” Trip said, grinning. “She’s trying to, though.”
“Okay, stop talking like I’m not here.”
Trip and Dad both laughed, and I shook my head, annoyed. It was like they already had some secret bond between them, dedicated to embarrassing me. That was going to have to stop, and very, very soon.
Lucy held up her glass. “May I propose a toast?”
“If you want,” Trip said. I grinned at him.
“To Starkland and to our amazing host and king, Christophe Werner von Brunhild the Third. May you live long and, uh . . . prosper.”
I snorted a laugh, and Trip grinned hugely at her.
“That was nice,” he said. “Here, here.”
“Prost,” Dad said, and we drank.
As we began to eat again, I felt the tide in the conversation shift away from embarrassing me and more toward things Trip and my father had in common. They had both hunted as younger men and they both like fishing from time to me. Lucy, for her part, managed not to say anything else so completely awkward and embarrassing.
About halfway through the meal, though, Al came into the room and whispered into Trip’s ear. I saw him stiffen and frown, and then he nodded to Al. He turned back toward the table.
“Well, I’m sorry to be so rude, but duty calls me,” he said. “I must bid you all good night.”
“Thank you so much again, Your Highness,” Lucy said.
Dad spoke up quickly before she had a chance to go on. “Yes, thanks, Trip. We appreciate it. This place is gorgeous.”
“Make yourselves at home. A servant will be by after the meal to show you to your room.” He stood up. “Good night.”
“Bye, Trip,” I said.
He gave me a quick grin and then disappeared.
As soon as he was gone, Lucy turned to me. “I think he liked me,” she said.
I smiled and nodded. “He sure does, Lucy.”
“Oh, I wonder what the ladies back home will think when I tell them all about this.”
I could only picture how that story would go.
We went back to eating and talking like a normal family again. I was so incredibly glad to have my father and Lucy with me. They made this surreal and crazy experience seem real.
And most importantly, Dad seemed to get along with Trip. The conversation hadn’t been forced or awkward. They had real things in common, although they came from such different backgrounds.
I didn’t know why that mattered. It wasn’t like I wanted to be with Trip seriously. I mean, I couldn’t even do that if I wanted to.
We finished the meal, and I couldn’t help but daydream about Trip, his mouth against mine, that gorgeous forest surrounding us. I wished I could see him again, but I knew he had some important work to do.
Once we were done, servants came and took Dad and Lucy up to their room. I said goodbye and headed up to my own room myself.
When I got inside, I noticed a small card set out in the middle of the bed. I walked over, tore it open, and pulled out a piece of paper.
“Bryce, your family is lovely. Glad they’re here. I can’t stop thinking about that kiss, and about that night. Trip.”
I bit my lip and shook my head, unable to stop smiling.
What the hell was happening to me? There was a feeling deep inside me that was struggling to get out. I’d felt it in the forest, too, when Trip had talked about his childhood.
I couldn’t name the feeling, but I wanted to, and soon.
24
Trip
General Hardcourt shook his head, looking dour as always. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. They escaped.”
“Fucking bastards,” I grumbled.
It was nearly two in the morning, hours after the dinner with Bryce and her parents. There had been some vicious attacks in the south, and I’d ordered my men to move in and arrest the killers.
Apparently, though, they’d gotten away somehow. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed as though they still had some local support. Someone was protecting these people, someone who knew the land intimately.
Worse, they seemed to know exactly what we were planning as we planned it. Based on his expression, I could tell that the general was as frustrated as I was. Unfortunately, though, I was the only one who would get blamed for any failures.
In the end, any losses, any mistakes, they were all firmly on my shoulders. I gave the orders, I made the decisions. I listened to advisors and I delegated tasks, but in the end, I was responsible.
It was all on me. That was the king’s burden.
As I leaned back in my chair, exhausted and beaten down, one of Hardcourt’s aides came in and whispered something in his ear. The general somehow managed to look even more dour, if that were even possible.
“Your Highness,” he said solemnly, “we have more reports of another attack in Stehen.”
“Another?” I asked. “What now?”
“A concert, Your Highness. Two shooters came in, yelled some pro-democracy slogans, and opened fire. The police have the situation under control now. One suspect is in custody.”
“The other?”
“Dead, sir.”
“Fuck,” I said, staring down at my hands. “We need to do something.”
“I agree, Your Highness.” Hardcourt sat down across from me. “Your Highness, might I suggest you place Stehen under the Secret Police’s protection?”
I looked at him sharply. “Isn’t that a bit drastic?”
He shook his head slowly. “Your Highness, if I may be so bold, the situation is already drastic.”
“This is a big step, Hardcourt.”
“Yes, it is. We need big steps right now.”
I shook my head and leaned back in my chair. I needed to take a moment to think about this.
The Secret Police were legendary in Starkland. They were brutal and tough, and they were always the king’s last resort. For a long time I thought they were a myth, but when I became king I found out the truth.
The Secret Police were very, very real, and they were very deadly.
The idea of sending them into my own city made me angry. I didn’t want to impose my will on the city, even if it meant saving my people. I didn’t want to destroy their freedom to simply save their lives.
And yet the rebels were getting more aggressive. I knew that if I didn’t do something, the rebels would take advantage of my uncertainty. I didn’t have time for weakness, and I wasn’t the weak type.
This was a huge step. I could feel weariness tugging at my eyes and my body, making me feel heavy and sluggish. I was angry and I was exhausted.
Hardcourt had a point. Things had already gotten pretty bad. Maybe the Secret Police would begin to enforce very strict rules and curfews in Stehen, and the city may very well grind to a halt, but at least people wouldn’t get murdered while out at a nightclub.
What would my people think of me if I made this decision?
Maybe it was better for them to think anything rather than to get killed.
“Your Highness?” Hardcourt asked.
“Send in a small contingent of the Secret Police,” I ordered. “Do not put the city under martial law. Impose a curfew,
and that is it. Wait for further commands.”
He nodded. “At once, Your Highness.” He stood and left the room.
I watched him go, a sinking feeling dropping through my body.
I found myself wandering the halls again late into the night, and I knew exactly where I was headed.
No need to pretend. No need to try to deceive myself. I was heading to Bryce’s room.
I stopped outside her door. It was late, and I knew she’d be asleep, but for some reason I was compelled to knock, not even to see her body, but mainly to hear her voice. I’d just made a momentous decision in my reign, and I had no clue how history would view me.
I needed a familiar comfort, and I couldn’t think of anything better than Bryce.
I knocked on her door softly. After waiting a few minutes, I knocked louder.
“Who is that?” I heard her say, sounding sleepy.
“It’s Trip. Sorry I woke you.”
There was a pause, and then the door opened a crack. Bryce stood there, looking worried. She wore a plain white T-shirt and cotton shorts. I could see her breasts outlined clearly under the thin shirt, and I felt my cock stir.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I just wanted to talk.”
She bit her lip. “I was asleep.”
“I know. Want a drink?”
She sighed, opening the door. “Okay. Come in.”
I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. I went over to the side table in the middle of the living room and grabbed a bottle. I poured myself a glass of whisky and another for Bryce, and then I handed her a glass. I knocked mine back in one go, and she sipped hers.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I just did something,” I said, pouring another drink.
“Come on, Trip, it’s late.”
“I guess you haven’t seen the news. There was another shooting in Stehen.”
“Oh no,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry, Trip.”
“The democrats, they’re getting bolder. They managed to escape my forces in the south somehow. We still don’t know how, exactly. I suspect locals are helping them.”
