by A. K. Koonce
Silence drops into the room.
But Lighton doesn’t let it linger long. “Mmm, but really, has anyone tasted your cupcake? Because I, for one, am a big fan of dessert.”
Kais’s head turns so slowly, cutting a glare toward his friend with newfound aggression. My eyes close, my cheeks blazing with embarrassment.
“You blush like a virgin, Cupcake.” Lighton’s smirk only grows in his tone.
“That’s enough,” Kais finally says. “It matters because Alice is the image of innocence. And it matters because the King will find out on your wedding night.”
Oh, for outdated standards’ fucking sake.
“Can we just get through today? Who’s to say his sister will even let this charade go any farther? Let’s just get through today, and then we can go from there.”
“Well, seeing how we’re eight minutes late now, and you’re still sitting in bed, I’d say yes, let’s get started on getting through today.” Kais’s features remain impassive as my glare burns a hole through his obnoxiously handsome face.
He’s so infuriatingly irritable. I can see the stress in his eyes even if his arrogant posture refuses to show it. He’d be happier—everyone would be happier—if he relaxed a little.
I throw my feet over the edge of the bed, take my time stretching, tilting my head this way and that as I arch my back until each muscle pulls deliciously.
“Done?” Kais licks his lips quickly as if he can rush this along simply by the cutting tone of his voice.
“Should I get dressed first or just prance into the King’s castle in my fucking jammies?”
Madison Torrent, False Queen of Wanderlust, Queen in the streets, slob in the sheets.
“Get dressed. Find something innocently blue, and then let’s go.”
His absurd annoyance with me makes me want to annoy him even more.
“Innocently blue? Is that a color? What if I wore like sadness sapphire or slut red instead? Would the wrong color dress just completely cripple your plan of deceiving the King?”
“Go. Get. Dressed. Fuck, you fight me on everything.”
“Because you have no idea how to talk to someone. You just order me around like a little toy soldier. You’re shit at guiding and advising. You’re a Demander not an Advisor.”
“Go.” The control he puts into that single word, not shouting it, simply grinding it out like it’s all he can do to not shake with anger.
I brush my shoulder against Kais’s as I pass, and from above me, Lighton balances his weight, arms out at both sides as he makes his way over to where the beam connects with the attic floor above me. When I climb the stairs, he’s right there, trailing at my side as we walk into the mess of fabric that’s strung through the enormous room.
“If it means anything, I’d let you be my demented.” He bumps his shoulder into mine.
“Demander. Demented is…something else entirely.”
I truly believe he would though. I don’t think anything in the world could make Lighton angry. It’s his easy-going attitude that balances Kais just barely.
They’re terrible together but good together too.
In a pile of white and pale colored material in the corner, I start to dig. A few articles of clothing have been started. A shirt is here, sleeves missing, ready to be sewn on but not yet assembled. I won’t tell Kais, but I secretly love this room. I don’t know if a seamstress or maybe a sweet little old lady lived here or what, but this is my dream room. I’d love to just work here in this dusty old place day in and day out.
But I guess that’s not in my future. Not for the False Queen.
My fingers catch on a pale blue shirt, and when I pull it out, I find it’s a button down made of smooth silk material. Soft fabric slides against my fingertips as I trail them against the garment. Once again, the sleeves haven’t yet been attached, but it’s long, and with just a few stitches, it could be perfect.
Unless a certain rabbit sneaks up here and finds me making a dress in my free time that isn’t really my time to be free.
I look up at Lighton, and he’s already crossing the room. He turns on a little overhead lamp near the corner, and there along the wall is a little desk, and perched on top is a black metal sewing machine.
Lighton pulls the wooden chair out with a sharp sound of wood grating against wood. Then he looks to me. He’s so…odd but knowing too. Maybe he’s aware of more than I give him credit for.
Quickly I sneak over to him, flinching when a floorboard cries out underfoot.
“Better work fast. I can practically hear him checking his watch as we speak.”
I smirk at Lighton but take my seat in the little chair. His hand rests against the back of the wooden chair, his warmth lingering against my skin as he watches me get to work. He isn’t overcrowding, he’s just curious, I guess. I like him watching. It’s nice to feel like someone has an interest in my work.
The thin needle is poised and ready, blue thread in place as if whoever was here last was working on the very same project I am now. My bare foot presses to the cool metal of the foot pedal, and in just moments, the machine fires to life. I take my time with the steady bob of the needle. I perfect the cut off arm sleeves, take in the hem on each side, then remove a few buttons and sew up the bottom.
Perfect. Done. That only took…fifteen minutes.
Kais’s going to murder me with a spool of thread if another minute ticks by.
As quickly as possible, I stand and pull the worn t-shirt over my head. It hits the floor near Lighton’s shoe.
“Oh, okay then,” Lighton says with a pleased nod, his attention drifting slowly down every exposed inch of my skin.
I roll my eyes at him as I huff an anxious sigh and start to pull on the dress before I’ve even fully kicked off my pants. The silk feels so nice against my skin. It caresses in all the right places. When I pull it up my thighs, it glides across them snuggly. My arms slip in, and the shirt I found is now nowhere to be seen.
The backward shirt leaves smooth material hugging my front, with a line of white buttons down the back.
“Can you button the back?” I look over my shoulder at the man lingering just inches away.
A strand of his golden hair falls free, teasing the amber color of his eyes that are locked on the length of my exposed back.
Steady fingers meet my bare spine. A breath catches in my lungs as he runs those fingers at a leisurely pace from the nape of my neck all the way down to nearly the curve of my ass. He’s big all over. Lighton’s hands feel just as big against my skin. He stops where the fabric meets low against my back. He takes his time, torturing me with each little brush of his fingers against my skin. One by one, he trails up until his palm pushes away the length of my blonde hair, careful to slip it over one shoulder before caressing that shoulder, trailing down, and buttoning the final button.
“There. All done, Cupcake,” he whispers against my neck, his beard tickling slightly.
My thighs shift, and I force myself not to lean into his broad chest.
“Thanks.” The word is a breathless, pitiful sound, and it only makes him smirk at me.
“Are you sure you’re all done because twenty minutes have passed.” Kais yells up from the room below in the most condescending tone.
He is so exhausting.
My eyes narrow on the place where I imagine him to be standing on the level below, and a need to piss him off even more burns pettily in my heart.
I look around the endless clothes hanging from lines across the ceiling, at the piles of fabric tossed here and there, colors and fabrics of every kind. And then I see it.
Just what I need. The very image of virginal innocence.
Yes. Just what a virgin needs in her life.
Twelve
Madison
I wish I could say I wasn’t putting effort into how much my hips are swinging as we trail toward the castle. But this morning, I’m channeling my inner Catrice as I stride sensual steps through the forest. Pi
ne needles sprinkle across the dark dirt, casting deep green over the earth, and where the shining glittering mushrooms were last night, only ordinary white fungi remain. The mystery and the appeal of Wanderlust is more of a nightlife. The beauty of the Kingdom of Hearts sleeps during the day only to come alive at dusk.
“You’re wearing that just to piss me off.” Kais doesn’t even look at me and the performance of my swaying hips.
What a waste. My pettiness is insulted.
“What? This old thing?” I cock my head at him, and still he ignores my antagonizing tone.
“You look fantastically fuckable, don’t listen to him.” The distracted man’s appreciating gaze settles on me and me alone as it lowers down my frame.
Kais spins on Lighton, showing just a little hint of that dangerous rage he hides.
“Do not call her fuckable. Don’t. Don’t even look at her. You two are going to get us murdered. You’re going to screw this up before we even step foot into the castle.” He takes a slow breath and turns to me, passing a glare down at the black stockings caressing my thighs.
They’re sheer, smooth, and nice against my skin. They turn the sweet silk of my nice mid-length dress into a smutty fantasy. The lacy tops of the stockings leave a half an inch of my revealing pale skin showing. Lighton’s attention has lingered on that half an inch with nearly every step I’ve taken this morning.
Honestly, if Kais didn’t push and push and push, things would be different. But he just makes me crazy, and that’s why things are difficult for us.
“I’m not going to screw this up.” I level him with a serious look that matches his own. “I just don’t want to be a fucking puppet either. I’m a person, Kais.” If he wasn’t such a prick all morning, I would be the very image of innocence right now. But I have no problem stooping low to piss him off. I might have an image to protect now, but no one’s going to dictate who I’m supposed to be. I’ve been told I’m weak, sick, and sad all my life. I was told from the very start I can be whoever I want to be in Wanderlust.
And so I will.
“I’m trusting you.” Kais’s tone is sincere. The anger that usually blemishes his words isn’t there.
The simple statement warms me inside and out, and I let go of the tension in my shoulders.
“You can trust me,” I whisper back.
For a moment, he and I just stare at one another. Then he nods slowly, turns on his heels, and starts up the waning boards of the cliffside staircase. My black high heels scuff against the first step, and my palm grips the railing immediately even though I’m only three inches off the ground. I never realized I had such a massive fear of heights, but this daunting staircase has definitely put that fear into perspective.
A big hand pushes against my hip. “You’re okay. I got you, Madison.”
I nod at Lighton’s calming rasping words, and for whatever reason, that simple little hold he keeps on my hip makes the pressing anxiety in my chest ease little by little. My steps start to match Kais’s as he trails up the winding back and forth angle of the stairs.
The nerves tumble down in my stomach the closer and closer we come to the top of the cliff. The sound of the waves crashing below and the gentle squawking of the birds overhead aren’t even a thought in my head. A new bout of fear and nervousness is storming around my chest.
I’m about to lie to the most important man in the Kingdom of Hearts.
And then I’ll marry him.
Thirteen
Lighton
A mask falls across that gorgeous face of hers the moment she’s seated before the King. His study isn’t filled with books; there aren’t maps or historical documents. It’s more of a charming little lovers’ den than anything. If the King and his sister were lovers, that is. A long sleek red table sits at the center, surrounded by high arching windows. Deep crimson hearts kiss the middle of each of the shining windows, and they cast a bleeding hue across white walls and the portraits that hang there.
Over the many, many fucking portraits, that stain of red taints each and every one of them. And depicted in each and every one is a golden couple. King Constantine and his bitter better half: his sister.
Instead of books and documents, he has happy little pictures of a woman who wants his crown more than she wants anything else.
And he loves her more than anything else.
They’re the strangest non-couple I’ve ever met.
My thumb brushes back and forth along the silver chain bracelet around my wrist. It’s a calming token of who I once was. It grounds me, keeps me focused when my mind starts to wander.
I need to focus today.
I stand stoic at the entry door to the study, concealing my watchfulness as I settle my gaze on the sexy woman who is just now noticing the peculiar number of pictures lining the walls. Yes, yes it is as odd as she’s imagining it to be right now.
Madison Torrent might be a fierce little vixen, but she has no idea what she just signed up for.
I wish I could warn her. She’s sweet and getting caught up in a bigger issue than what it seems. In my report to the Elder I work for, I’ll try my best to protect her.
I can’t protect her here though. There are too many dangers, too many sides to try to play. She’s only seen Wanderlust’s side. Kais’s side. The safe side.
More is waiting.
“I’m so pleased you decided to stay, Alice.” King Constantine beams at her as her ivory skin blanches impossibly paler.
“Please, call me Madison.”
It’s the King’s turn to blanch at that.
Kais sits quietly at her side, him glaring on one side, the King frowning on the other side, and a scowling Un-Queenly sister leering across from her. It’s a lovely, lovely morning, I tell you.
“My brother will call you Alice. And for future dinners, let’s be on time going forward. He is a man of importance, and it is incredibly disrespectful to waste his precious time.” Konstance’s gray eyes narrow into tinier little slits as she gazes at Madison.
“It is alright, Sister.” Constantine pats the woman’s arm lightly, but it doesn’t deter her angry attention. All the gesture does is bring Madison’s gaze to the small touch the two just shared.
I smirk to myself, wishing like hell I knew what was slamming through her pretty blonde head right now. But right now, it’s easy to see. It’s what’s always in everyone’s head: is the King of Wanderlust fucking his sister?
Is he or isn’t he?
Neither of them appears to be too particularly happy, so it’s pretty fucking plausible. Constantine looks like the type of guy to get off and then get off. Poor fucking Alice.
Huh, poor fucking Madison, I suppose.
My gut twists at that. She’s too young to be unhappy. No one knows unhappiness better than I do. That tight feeling in my chest becomes choking again.
I need a drink.
“I’m very sorry for our lateness,” Madison says with a tight, pretty smile in place.
Hmm, maybe she is a good pick. She’s good at faking happiness and politeness.
“I want to be forward in our plans. I know it might be a strange and premature”—leave it to Constantine to talk about premature, am I right?—“suggestion, but I’d like you to be actively considering the proposal of Queen, Al—Madison.”
Madison gives a gentle nod of her head. Long blonde hair shifts against her features, and it kills me to think I took away that sexy red hair. Luckily the blonde will naturally fade away. I’ll have to redo the damn magic all over again within twenty-four hours. She’s pretty as a blonde though. More innocent looking.
“I don’t think it’s too forward at all. I’m happy to be here with you, and I’m happy to be considered for your Queen. All I want is to help our people, Constantine.”
At the soft sound of her words, his eyes dilate. You’d think those puffy full lips of hers just uttered the sexiest dirty talk anyone’s ever heard. I almost throw up in my mouth as I cling harder to the silence I’m supp
osed to be holding. It’s disgusting how much he gets his rocks off simply from her stroking his political ego.
“He’s your King. Please remember to address him as such.” Konstance’s voice grates through her brother’s trance.
“No, I like it. Call me Constantine, please.”
Gag.
“I will, Constantine.” She beams a full smile at him, and it’s hard for me to hear anything with all the proverbial dick sucking that’s slurping through the room.
Would it be too disruptive if I convulsively vomited all over the floor right now?
A heavy sigh falls out of my lungs, and I don’t even realize how loud it is until all four of them look up at me from across the long and daunting table.
Shit, what were they just saying? Did they ask me something?
Their stares linger on me until it’s awkward. And I know awkward.
“That a new one?” I point to the portrait closest to me. It’s a painting of Konstance in nothing but a ruby red cloak, her long legs peeking out the front, the curve of her breasts teasingly on display while she holds a scepter in one hand, her brother’s hand in the other. Her brother oddly stands at her side with a serious look of kingly confidence. My brow pulls low as I try to make sense of the weirdness, but I can’t. “It’s…nice. I like the…way the cloak covers her pussy just right. Kinky and classy.” With my fingers, I give them the A-Okay gesture, and it only makes them glare harder at me.
Nope. Still awkward.
“What is he doing here, Brother?”
“I’m not sure, Sister.”
“He’s my new advisor. Lighton is really knowledgeable. He’s been keeping me up to speed on all details of Wanderlust and your beautiful Kingdom.” Madison bites back the smirk in her features as she looks at me, and I swear to God, my dick just got hard.
You know how many people have stood up for me in my life?
None.
And she wouldn’t either if she knew what I’ve done. I used to have this beautiful little girl who looked at me like I was capable of hanging the stars in the sky. She looked at me just like Madison’s looking at me right now.
