Royal Chronicles of Denmark, Books 1 & 2
Page 8
I looked around astonished at the beauty of dripping white candles that surrounded the room giving it light, the golden walls embedded with portraits of Belarus royals from earlier centuries, and gold table settingsknives, plates, forks. Everything was almost too lavish for words. Tiny pieces of dark and white chocolates rested on either side of a spectacular three tier crystallized fountain that sat at the center of a decadent white marble table located on the other side of the room.
As we entered, Norvack’s personal servant stepped onto the carpet and faced the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Prince Norvack Lars Belarus I, and his soon to be bride, Miss Cinderella Von Strepenburg.” Everyone clapped and Norvack nodded in thanks. He tugged at my hand and I curtsied. His servant bowed and showed his hand as we glided down the carpet to the large dining table at the front of the room, consisting of the queen, her sister, the Duke and Duchess of Northamptonshire, Belarus’ brother, and the king himself aside the queen. Two empty chairs sat to the right of her, and as I feared, they were meant for us.
Norvack greeted guests along the way, but I kept my eyes forward, afraid I would catch the Sheriff’s evil eye. When we reached the table, the queen stood to greet us. She took my hand, patting it between her own. Norvack kissed her cheek and went over to Belarus who continued eating and barely acknowledged his son’s presence. He appeared dejected as Belarus ignored him and spoke to other guests at the table. I couldn’t help but feel that part of the dejection was my own doing.
He came back over to me and pulled out my chair, the one sitting beside the queen. I constricted my jaw and sat down in a huff, though one not so obvious.
“Well, my son,” said the queen, her voice as cool as a stream gliding down a row of pebbles. “Your birthday celebration only began hours ago.”
“Is that why father is ignoring me? Because I was late to my own dinner celebration?”
“Nonsense. The king isn’t ignoring his own son.”
“Alright.” It was clear he didn’t believe her. He fixed his jacket and smiled at the room as he took the seat beside me. Each guest was then escorted back to one of the many elegantly placed tables scattered throughout the room.
“What kept you from being on time?” she asked.
“The King of England and I were still in the midst of a heated discussion.”
“The princess?”
I sank in my chair. Norvack looked over and placed a hand beneath my arm, lifting me up.
“No, politics. I couldn’t very well end it without allowing him to dismiss me first.”
“Allowing him to dismiss you?” She had a surprised and bitter tone to her voice. “My dear son, you are the Prince of Denmark.”
“And he is a man who’s princess I refused to marry; he is a king--”
“Of England. Despite its magnitude, he allows you nothing in your own kingdom. Here, you allow him, remember that. Princess, or no.” She took a tiny bite of her food and looked over at me as I began to devour, unkindly, each morsel on my plate.
First, there was the stuffed chicken soaked in warm garlic butter. Then the potatoes. Oh, the potatoes! I had never had such delicious potatoes in all my life. They were mashed until they were too soft to chew and were covered in brown and white gravy accordingly. The vegetable combination of asparagus, carrots, and beans sat atop a bed of brown rice were seasoned with a sort of yellow sauce I did not recognize and had never tasted before -- it was quite spicy and tart at the same time -- but much too delicious to have left on my plate for much longer. And the bread; the warm wheat bread soaked in honey, nuts, and raisins, smelled of pure heaven. It was like I had been in a dream!
“They call you Cinder? Is that right?” she asked me.
I swallowed the food in my mouth, washing it down with fresh, cool water from the well, and nodded. “Yes.”
I could tell in an instant that she was sizing me up from the way she spoke. Her voice was calm, yet a bit severe. It made me uncomfortable but not nervous. “I was born in Hadenville as well, has my son told you that?”
I glanced at him and arched my brows. He shrugged and carelessly shook his head. “No, he didn’t.”
“Yes! I was the child of a vagabond and a prostitute.” She leaned in. “The king isn’t much fond of this story, but it’s who I am. What about you, dear? Who were your parents?”
I was suddenly fascinated by her. She spoke so elegantly and appeared so beautiful. Her eyes were round like marbles, her irises the color of chestnut. Her auburn hair peeked from beneath her headdress. She pat it down and smiled when she noticed me staring.
I chortled and rattled my head. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I never knew my parents. They died when I was a baby, at least from what I’ve always been told.”
“It’s perhaps for the best that you didn’t know them. My mother, God rest her soul, passed from pneumonia. My father drank himself to death. When I met the king, I was thirteen years old and he was twenty-one. We married only two days later.” She smiled at the memory. “You truly remind me quite of myself at your age, Cinder. Young and insecure but driven. And like you, I was born into a world of poverty and shame. I had no real guidance along the way, no one to teach me the boundaries of what was right and wrong. I had to learn on my own. At times resulting in tragic consequences. Nevertheless, I made it out of my tiny hole and married the King of Denmark. And though we may have our troubles and disagreements, I would much rather be the wife of a volatile king who demands he have his way or not at all, than the daughter of a worthless Hadenville vagabond. I clawed my way out of the gutter, my dear. It’s clear you’ve chosen the same,” she said. Immediately, I dropped my head and looked to my hands in my lap. She appeared puzzled. “What is it, dear?”
“I…” I waited and took a deep breath. “Did you love Norvack’s father?”
She stopped moving as if someone had pushed “pause” on her reaction. “What was that, my dear?”
“The king. When you met and eventually married, did you love him or did it take some time?”
“Do you love my son?” she shot back.
I squeezed my brows together. There was a tightness in my throat. “I admire him.”
“Admiration can go a long way. But my son adores you in a way that astounds me. I’ve never seen another man embrace a woman, whether she be a mother or his wife, the way he embraces you. At times I fear he may love you far too much. A love like that can be crippling, dangerous.”
Before I could respond, the little red-faced man from earlier today stood at the center of the room, clinking a goblet. “Hear ye, hear ye.” He waved his hand about and everyone stopped what they had been doing and turned their focus to him. “King Belarus and the queen shall now make their royal announcement.”
The king took his wife’s hand and stood before the patrons. He raised a goblet to the crowd, indicating they do the same. “Tonight,” he said, “we celebrate the birth of my son, Norvack Lars. Twenty-seven years. We celebrate his life and future…” He glanced back to me and snarled a little. “And we celebrate his future bride, Cinderella Von Strepenburg, and welcome her heartily into the Belarus clan.”
He didn’t sound the least bit thrilled despite his attempt to do so. People clapped as others began whispering to one another, staring past the king and glaring. I looked over at Norvack who was beaming at me. He appeared so proud to have me sitting next to him at that table as his future wife. I blushed and noticed his hand creeping toward the center of my gown. I clutched it before it got too far and placed it back into his lap. I wanted him to touch me, I wanted his hands between my thighs so desperately right then and there, stroking me until I screamed his name in near agony and came all over his hand. But it wasn’t the time or place.
“Soon,” he mumbled. I peeled my eyes from his and nibbled my lip to hide my smile and excitement.
“I would also like to point out,” said the king, “that we as a family are still in mourning for the death of my first born son, Willem. A
s you all are quite aware, he was savagely slaughtered and left to die. Our family shall not rest until the vile, vicious person who butchered him so carelessly in the village square is brought to justice before the citizens of this very country.”
My heart rate increased significantly. I felt as if I could have keeled over from a heart attack at any moment. A bead of sweat formed on my temple. I quickly dabbed it back before anyone at the table could notice, and looked out into the crowd. The Sheriff was watching me closely. He had the hint of a menacing grin on his face, as if he knew it was only a matter of time before he watched me burn at the stake by the hands of my prince or king. Belarus went on for a few more rounds discussing Willem and his importance to the family and country, despite his heritage having been kept a secret since his birth, before the queen said a few words regarding her own son and announced our wedding for this Saturday at 3pm on the eastern lawn of the estates.
The prince wanted to say a few words as well, to thank everyone for coming and speak a bit of Willem out of obligation, but Belarus silently advised him against it, shaking his head as he noticed his son ready to stand on his way back to the table. As much as I could see it pained him, Norvack pretended to be perfectly fine in doing what he was told from the king. At least until he began stabbing at his chicken with the prongs of his fork as if it were still moving across his plate.
As the night carried on, a harpist played on stage as a local gypsy sang her latest tune beside him. Music filled the air and everyone who had finished dining began dancing and mingling about the room, kissing and shaking hands with those they hadn’t seen since the last celebration over a month ago. Norvack and I stayed in place as various people came to greet and congratulate us at the table -- some were sincere and truly happy for the prince. Despite the challenge of hiding such displeasures, others were not, and the rest were skeptical that the prince would actually manage to show up this Saturday, let alone say the vows of marriage and obey them.
“Are you having fun yet?” he asked me.
“Quite frankly, no.”
He bellowed. “You shall become accustomed to it very quickly, my favorite girl.”
We sat back watching the king and queen opposite one another at the center of the room. Everyone gathered around and stared at them in such wonder and admiration as they performed the usual dance for their guests, the waltz.
Norvack slid his fingers across the back of my hand and leaned into me. “That shall be us one day.”
“I have no idea how to do the waltz,” I said.
“It’s quite simple. I can teach you in my chambers.”
“Your chambers? There isn’t room to do much in there aside from…” I stopped and he grinned, licking and biting his bottom lip. I suddenly felt warm and exhaled, refocusing straight ahead. “The glass ballroom in the west wing would be ideal.”
“But not nearly as comfortable or intimate. In fact, perhaps we should get a head start. It is never too soon to learn.”
“Are you joking? Your father would sooner have your head if you escaped your own celebration.”
“No one will realize us missing. Least of all, my father. Come.”
He quickly grabbed my hand before I could object and sneaked us out of the ballroom without a soul noticing.
When we reached his chambers, I looked about the room and noticed not much had changed since I was first there as a child. The walls were the same -- made of pure gold of course -- as was his bed, still too large for someone even his size but as beautifully made as ever. It nearly filled the entire room! A wooden table sat opposite and a desk rested alongside it. I glided my fingers across the slick wood and sensed him watching me as I moved near the fireplace. It sent a thrill up my spine.
He slipped off his white jacket, placing it on the railing at the foot of the bed and cleared his throat. I turned to watch him as he slightly undressed, removing the edge of his tunic from his trousers, rolling up the sleeves and unbuttoning his collar. Part of me wished to help him. I wished to slide my hands up his smooth back with ease and remove the tunic for him, but I refrained.
“Tonight was a fairly good time,” he said. “Much better than I expected it would be. My mother was on her best behavior despite a few remarks at the beginning. My father--”
“Speaking of your father, were you and Willem twins?”
He snickered. “What would make you ask such a thing?”
“Because your celebration tonight seemed more about him than you. I found it odd. Was it your birthday or his?”
“I may have despised my brother, but it is hard on my father. He’s still grieving.”
“He’s the only one,” I mumbled. Norvack made a curious face and reached for his decanter. I sighed and spun around on my heels. “How are you going to teach me to do anything in this room? These floors are not made for dancing.”
“They are not made for sex either, but I have managed, somehow. Brandy?”
I scoffed at his remark. Part of me wanted to laugh myself into hysterics, while another part of me was appalled.
“I shouldn’t be taken aback at the idea of you rutting with various maiden’s on this very floor.”
“Not various. But, I would never take you on the floor, my favorite girl. Not unless you begged me in rapture.” He handed me a goblet of brandy and I sneered.
“You know I don’t drink.”
“Right, yes. And, why is that?” he asked. I didn’t reply. He took the drink for himself and stared at me intently between sips, his jade green eyes smoldering beneath his lids. “My father once informed my mother in a public forum that brown spirits are not the drink for any woman within or outside of Denmark. For she who drinks that of a man’s liquor shall no longer be deemed a proper woman.”
“I am most certainly not just any woman, prince. Nor have I ever been deemed proper by anyone. You believe I don’t drink because of something the king said to his wife in a public forum of the square?” I looked to the floor. “Perhaps you know less about me than you realize.”
He placed the now empty goblet atop the wooden table near his bed. “Perhaps we should change that.” He headed straight for me and I moved closer to his window.
I suddenly became anxious and breathed out, looking up and out into the stars. “What an exquisite night out.”
“Yes, quite exquisite. Though, not quite as exquisite as what stands before me now in a near blinding beauty.” He moved my hair to the side and reached his hand around my throat, his fingers on my pulse. I fell weak to his touch almost immediately. “Did I tell you how enticing you appeared to me in the ballroom tonight? And even more so now that we’re alone again?” His breath hit my hair as he leaned closer, whispering. I shivered against him and he chuckled. “You’re ravishing. The jewels around your neck do your bodice an improper justice of the best kind. I noticed the diamond snuggled safely between your breasts when you curtsied before me. Is it possible to be envious of such a precious stone?”
“Perhaps,” I muttered mindlessly, almost immediately regretting it.
He slid his fingers down the front of my bodice and wrapped them around to the small of my back, resting them beneath the lace, forcing what was left of my brain to collapse in thought. I wanted his fingers inside my gown, on my skin, tracing every delicate part of me, but slid away in an instant and headed straight for the door. I stopped when he called out my name in a shout and clinched my teeth. It got so quiet in the room that I could hear his ragged breathing as he crept closer to me.
“Turn to me, Cinder girl.” I breathed out and hesitantly spun on my heels to look him in the eyes. My heart beat unsteadily. “Kiss me,” he said, swooping down.
“Don’t--” Instinctively, I raised my hand to strike him but he reacted quickly and caught my wrist, clutching it tight. He jerked me closer to his body and I felt a certain tension rising between us. I swallowed hard, knowing exactly what I was feeling, and opened my mouth a little, tasting his breath on my tongue. It was strong with br
andy. Norvack looked down at me with pure lust and thirst in his eyes.
I felt his cock enlarging and shoved him back in a fury. I moved across the room and tried catching my breath. What I felt in that moment was something more than revulsion and fear, or even desire to have him. It was something that made me feel alive, almost for the first time ever! I placed my hand on my chest and felt the sharp beating of my heart as it plunged through my ribs and against my breasts.
Thump. Thump. Thump. An intense need arose between my legs, pulsating like mad.
Norvack slithered up behind me once more in the manner of a rebellious snake. I jumped out of place as he pressed his hard body into my back again, in particular his cock against my backside. His growing erection throbbed against me and I caught my next breath in my throat. I had such an urge to move away from him but could not find the will to do so. He leaned down to the side of my face and rested his lips against my ear, gently taking the tip of his tongue and flicking my earlobe. He slipped his hands around my waist, pulling me to him even more. He moaned, rocking himself against me, his cock growing second by second as he attempted to maneuver it between my arse cheeks. It both horrified and amazed me that a man such as Norvack could make me feel such pleasure without even being inside me. I shut my eyes and leaned my head back onto his chest involuntarily, embracing his touch. He cupped my breasts and licked the side of my throat, and sunk his teeth into my skin. I made a pained face and whimpered lightly, but enjoyed the feeling of it immensely. I reached around, anxiously searching for his cock.
“Take off your clothes.”
I trembled. “I…”
“Cinder, I want to taste you.” He licked the side of my throat again as I held onto his engorged cock through his pants with both of my hands.
“Oh my…” I panted, realizing for the first time what had driven so many women who had been with him absolutely insane.