Crown Jewels

by Katherine Kingston, Mlyn Hurn

  Chapter Three

  Syranna tossed and turned in her soft bed. She dreamed of her home, filled with lush green lands, plants of all descriptions, and animals that sometimes defied words to describe them. She missed the coolness that constantly bathed her skin from the mists there. The freedom that she had known there seemed to call her home. Abruptly she awoke, aware that she was no longer alone in her room. She didn’t move. Her breathing nearly ceased as her every sense tuned to detect the presence in her room.

  Marcus didn’t move as soon as he sensed that she had awakened. He had not been surprised to find that she had locked her door, but he had thought of that and brought the keys from his chamberlain along with him. He wasn’t proud of his actions. But sometimes the throne demanded things from a man that he might not wholeheartedly agree with at times. He had wanted to surprise her while she was still asleep and gain the upper hand. He had a tantalizing glimpse of her naked, full breasts before she had pulled the sheet up. He could see the lines of her sensual body beneath the thin covering.

  “Lord Marcus.” Syranna’s voice broke through the blackness of the night. “I expected better of you.”

  Marcus stiffened at her biting, sarcastic words. He knew she sought to anger him, or shame him, but he would not allow her the upper hand. Deliberately, he kept his voice even as he replied to her implied insult. “You don’t understand how tenuous the hold on peace can be at times.”

  Marcus stepped closer to her bed. His eyes followed Syranna’s movement on the bed, as she pulled the covers with her and came to a kneeling position in the center of the mattress. He saw that she had tilted one eyebrow upward, displaying her doubt in his words with the gesture. Taking a deep breath, he spoke slowly.

  “I can see that you don’t understand, but I am bound to do anything that is required to keep this land together, and to keep future wars at bay.”

  Syranna held his gaze as she replied. “Those are noble words indeed, but not worth much if you follow them with a rape.”

  “It is not rape, madam! I am going to marry you!” His voice rose as he reached the end of his testament. William had convinced him that if bedding, then wedding, this woman is what was required, then he would do it.

  “Milady, there are many things that you do not understand…” Marcus moved to the foot of the bed. He could see her naked shoulders rising above the sheet she held to her breasts. “If you have any sense of rightness remaining in you then you must understand what you owe to your people of Vikalla.”

  “Ha!” Syranna scoffed at him. “I have not lived here for most of my life. No one will even remember me.”

  Marcus smiled in the darkness, his teeth gleaming white and almost feral. “No, but they remember your father. And the loyalty felt for him, owed to him, is very strong. With our bloodlines joined, then Vikalla will be invincible once again. As it was in your father’s early days…as he would have wanted it to be again. Surely you would honor his memory by fulfilling his deepest hopes for your home world.”

  Syranna watched him in silence for several long moments. There was no denying that his words were the truth. Somehow she suspected that the old knight’s request of her had this very reason at its center all along. But she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to, she reminded herself. During her twenty-one years, she had lived more years as a non-royal than she had as a princess. She was fairly sure that she preferred life as a commoner.

  “I am going to leave tomorrow as I had planned, Lord Marcus. Like I said earlier, no one need know the truth. You can rule Vikalla, and I promise I will never return, nor make any claims on your precious throne.” Syranna flung the words at the tall man, almost daring him to try and stop her.

  Marcus stared at her bare shoulders bathed in moonlight, streaming through the windows. He felt desire for this obstinate woman race through his body. He could force her to wed him, of that he had no doubt.

  “Why do you not want to reclaim what is rightfully yours? I refuse to believe that you willingly walk away from your birthright.”

  Syranna’s glare and her rising emotions were unmistakable. He thought he could almost see sparks coming from her eyes and she seemed to be getting angrier by the moment.

  “You know nothing about me, you arrogant lout! How dare you accuse me of ignoring my duty! For your information, I have no duty to Vikalla. My home is no longer here. Now,” Syranna tilted her chin in a truly noble and commanding fashion, “get out of my room.”

  Marcus reached out and grabbed the hand she had flung toward the door, as if showing him his way out. Damn her! She treated him like the worst of the rubbish, which only needed to be swept away. He yanked on the fragile wrist and Syranna fell forward toward him. Her tenuous hold on the sheet was lost and her naked body was revealed to him. He saw her full, round breasts heaving with her rapid, angry breaths. Her nipples were beaded to tight perfection and distended in the cool night air.

  Marcus caught her in his arms, pressing her against his hard chest. He easily calmed her futile struggles, looking down into her angry, upturned face. It seemed impossible to resist her softly parted lips. He lowered his head and kissed her deeply. His tongue fought and won over hers, subduing her protests easily. Just when he thought he was wooing her into complacency, Syranna bit his lower lip.

  “Ow! Hell’s bells, woman!”

  Syranna fell back to the bed as his hands shoved her away. She watched as he rubbed the back of one hand over the injured area. He was obviously as surprised as she to see that she had drawn blood. Syranna paused in that moment, shocked at her primitive behavior. She had never hurt anyone or anything in her life. If nothing else, under her grandfather’s watchful eye, she became known to take in any kind of hurt animal around the castle and surrounding properties. The blood on his hand unnerved her. This barbaric behavior on her part was unforgivable.

  “I am sorry, sir,” Syranna offered contritely. From the look on Marcus’ face, Syranna knew an apology wouldn’t be enough. “I know that you are a fair man, and you really don’t want to do this.”

  Marcus stopped at her words. Syranna opened her mouth to add more fuel to her argument when she saw that he wasn’t looking at her face. His eyes were quite a bit lower. Syranna glanced down and saw that in her sprawled landing, her thighs were parted. The light from the torch he carried had lowered across the bed and bathed her body in the dim illumination. She could guess his surprise was due to the fact that she was missing the expected hair to cover her womanhood. Slowly his eyes traveled up her body, and when she met his gaze, a slow smile curved his sensual mouth upward. In that moment, she knew her face was covered in an embarrassed flush.

  “My lord Marcus, I know you are a logical and far-thinking man…”

  “Are you attempting to flatter me into dropping my plans? I must confess, my sweet, that after seeing your luscious body, you’ll need more than words to persuade me.”

  Syranna gasped. “You mean you want me to trade favors for you to change your mind?”

  “Hmm. That would assume that my plans aren’t set in stone. It also assumes that you possess something worth trading.”

  Syranna had been sliding her hand toward the bedcovers. She stopped abruptly at his words. “I believe you just insulted me!”

  Marcus grinned and shook his head. He took a step closer to the bed, resting his nearest knee on the mattress. “Not at all, your Royal Highness.”

  Syranna glared at the man who now appeared to be finding immeasurable humor in this situation. God! She detested the amused look on his face and the slightly sarcastic tone in his voice.

  “Don’t call me that! And, furthermore, you have no idea what I could offer you.”

  Marcus jerked the bedcovers from her grasp and threw them all to the floor. “At the moment, ma’am, I am overwhelmed by what I see you offering right now.”

  Syranna saw his eyes lower to her full, naked breasts. “You are a cad, sir!”

  Marcus shook his head once again. “I�
��m going to wed you.”

  “Aarrrgghhhhh!” Syranna screamed in frustration. But the cry was cut off as Marcus grabbed her foot and dragged her toward him. Kicking out with her other foot was a mistake, as he quickly caught it with his other hand. His other knee joined the first on the bed, but now they were between her spread thighs.

  Syranna tried to push herself along the bed with her hands while Marcus threw his velvet robe to the floor. His eyes must have seen her motion because a moment later his hands grabbed hers. His body dropped quickly, pressing her into the soft bed. Syranna struggled to free herself, but each move she made only weakened her reserves and exposed more of her naked body to his. He caught both her hands with one of his, while his free hand moved from her shoulder to her breast, cupping, and then squeezing her sensitive flesh eagerly.

  As Syranna gasped, drawing in her breath raggedly, Marcus lowered his head and took her nipple deep into his hot, wet mouth. His sucking motions caused her to moan as the wild, unknown feelings began coursing through her body. She could feel his hard, heated maleness pressing against her soft belly. His hands moved over her body, pulling her legs farther apart and settling his hips between them. As she opened her mouth to cry out, he covered it with his own. She pulled her senses together, to marshal her inner powers…

  * * * * *

  Marcus fell to the bed next to her, exhausted and sound asleep before he actually hit the mattress. In deep sleep, his dreams told once again how sweet this joining of their bodies had been. He remembered firm, full breasts that overflowed his own larger hand. How sweet her nipples had been to suckle! His hand had then moved down and explored her hairless woman’s mound with eagerness and anticipation.

  In his vivid dream, Marcus remembered thrusting into her sweet heat. Suddenly, he was wide awake. Marcus had never forced a woman before, and he didn’t like the feelings that were rushing over him at doing so. Now that the heat of passion and arousal had left him, he knew what he had done. But he would make it all right in the morning. He rose on one arm to tell her so, but she turned from him quickly, moving from the bed to stand as far away from him as she could.

  Marcus stared at her beautiful naked body, bathed in the moonlight’s dim illumination from the windows. Even now, seeing her womanly hips and thighs, the way her long hair danced around her buttocks as she ran from him, he was getting hard all over again. He stood and quickly pulled on his robe. There was no doubt that perhaps it would be better to discuss all this in the morning. He started to tell her they would discuss wedding plans in the light of the new day, but she only further denied him by covering her ears with her hands.

  Angry and frustrated, Marcus left the room. He stalked back to his own room, forgetting to tell the guards to return to their posts at the end of the hallway, just down from Syranna’s bedroom door.

  Syranna wanted to throw herself on the bed and cry. But she knew that while it might release her emotions, it wouldn’t help her get away from here. She quickly pulled on her clothes and, holding her shoes and small, soft bag in her arms, she pulled open the bedroom door. She saw the hallway was empty and quickly made her way down the stairs and through the main rooms without being seen. She stuck to the dark corners, moving silently until she reached the stable.

  She saw that there was only a young boy sound asleep inside the stable. Syranna looked at the boy and regretted what she would have to do. As she walked over to him, he stirred instantly from the light sleep. In the dim light, she could see the surprised look on his face. Before he could speak, Syranna lifted her right hand. With her fingers barely touching his skin, she ran them down his face. A moment later, he slumped into complete unconsciousness.

  She saddled her horse quickly and was riding to the gate within a few minutes. The guards had not been told to stop anyone from leaving because Marcus had never considered that she would be able to even get out of her room.

  * * * * *

  Syranna rode through the night, and as dawn came, she had reached one of the major exit cities on Vikalla. It didn’t take long for her to arrive at the transfer station and book passage for herself and her steed. Paying for the transfer used the last of her exchanges. Once she got back to Kalledane, she doubted that she would be leaving ever again. The exchanges she’d used had belonged to Sir Ralus, and those had been left from when he had first brought Syranna to Kalledane.

  She waited tensely over the next hour, until finally the old-style, yet totally modern air-ship rose from the ground and began its long journey, which would eventually return her to Kalledane. Traveling home, Syranna was intensely aware that the other people on board were probably vacationers coming to Kalledane for a brief time. The number of travelers was proof that the war had ended and interplanetary transfers had been restored.

  The ship they were traveling on was fashioned after one used by their ancestors to travel the seas to distant shores and was considered just another part of the Kalledane experience for visitors. Syranna had noticed how popular it was becoming for people from the sister moon, Kallas, to visit now that the war had ended.

  All three planets’ forbearers had chosen which aspects of modern life to use and which to ignore. The differences of old traditions and new scientific advances on the three planets were most obvious on Kalledane, where the people lived much simpler lives, choosing health and safely proven developments over those advancements that were strictly for pleasure alone. Simple, loose clothing was worn by most, except those who worked within the transit system. Some people still embraced the advanced technologies, but most were drifting back into simpler lifestyles.

  By far Kalledane, of the three worlds, was the most gadget and technology free. People traveled here to see how they and their ancestors had once lived, and quite often many would begin making plans to retire on Kalledane. Of course, while all of this was true of Kalledane, it was most certainly not true of Mystonia. Rarely did strangers venture into the mist-laden, myth-shrouded land.

  Since the ship was small, the other travelers had soon begun questioning one another’s destinations, usually volunteering where they were from as well. Syranna had been brought up by her grandfather to always be polite. Aware of her fellow shipmates waiting for her reply, Syranna finally murmured her answer.

  “I’m returning to my home, Mystonia.”

  The young boy traveling with his parents was too young to observe proper rules of etiquette. He got out of his seat and crossed to stare at Syranna.

  “Wow! Do they really have dragons and wizards?” he questioned guilelessly and with wide-eyed wonder.

  His mother had quickly followed him, anticipating trouble, but not able to stop it. “I’m so sorry.”

  Syranna looked into the other woman’s eyes. “It’s all right, really.” She turned to the little boy. He had blond hair and blue eyes, and was completely innocent in his reasons for asking such questions. All she had to do was reach out and touch him, and he would see all the wonders and beauties that made up Mystonia. But to do that would probably frighten the child, so Syranna smiled at the boy.

  “It is a beautiful place, lush and green, with water everywhere. It’s usually foggy, making some things look mysterious. We ride horses, not dragons.”

  The boy smiled and let his mother drag him back to his seat. Syranna told herself silently that she hadn’t really lied. It was true that most people rode horses…

  Chapter Four

  Over the next few weeks, Syranna worked hard at keeping her mind off those last few hours on Vikalla. She wanted no memories of that time, especially of the feelings she had experienced as Marcus had loomed above her body. Many times she questioned her own actions. Ralus had taught her many tricks to defend herself physically against such an attack, and yet she had not used any of them. Instead she had used her mental powers.

  She berated herself over and over, wondering if she had invited his attack. Or maybe it really hadn’t been an attack after all. Had she really wanted him to take her like that? From the moment
she had seen this new liege lord, she had felt strange and unfamiliar feelings. But no matter how she berated herself, she still had no answers to her inner questions.

  It was too complicated. She had said no, but then she had started to like the way his touches made her feel. Her body had begun dictating her actions and she’d wanted him to show her what being a woman was all about. So why had she stopped him, just as her body had welcomed his heat and power? Finally she remembered something her grandfather had told her years earlier, during one of her training sessions.

  “You must always think before you use this power you have been granted, Syranna.” Lord Mathayrus had nodded as he talked to her quietly. “Sometimes things happen very quickly in our lives. Your power, if you draw upon your deepest reserves, will almost become a force within the force.”

  “What do you mean, Grandpapa?”

  “Just think carefully before you decide to use your powers, my sweet granddaughter. There may come a time that you will wish you had not acted before you anticipated the full consequences.”

  Many times since her return from Vikalla, she awoke in the night, wanting things she wasn’t even sure of. The feel of his big hand, so tenderly caressing her breast, was much too sweet a memory for her to push away. Each time she recalled being on the bed with Lord Marcus, her flesh would tingle and she felt heat surging through her body. Between her thighs, wetness would appear. One night, she had moved her hand down to stroke her wet lips, easing between them to find her clit. In the quiet darkness, Syranna caressed her flesh until she climaxed.

  She went about her business, though, as the weeks passed, trying to ignore her sleepless nights, filled with longing and arousal. She often awoke in a sweat, her breasts swollen and tender, her nipples taut. If she touched her breasts it only heightened the feelings and the doubts. And when she awoke with wetness between her thighs, she seemed unable to stop her hand from straying down to ease her discomfort.