Royal Chronicles of Denmark, Books 1 & 2

by Kiki Leach

  I peeked over my shoulder and saw Norvack staring directly at me as he spoke. He ignored his mother’s eyes as she tried capturing his attention, tugging on his lapels.

  “What did you say to her?” he asked Eliza in a harsh tone.

  “Nothing, Norvack,” I chimed in, sliding up behind the queen and putting on a smile to ease his anger.

  “You’ve been crying.”

  Eliza and I glanced at one another in a panic.

  “We were discussing your progress,” she finally said. “Your apparent desire to ride again.”

  He arched a brow. “Her desire for me to ride again.”

  “It’s yours as well, my son.” She smiled and kissed the side of his face again. “What shall I inform your father, as you continue to refuse his invitations?”

  “That I refuse to eat alongside him for as long as he wishes to declare my marriage to Cinder invalid. He will not win this battle.”

  “Son,” she said. He only looked at her. She nodded, aware of what his silence meant, and lifted her gown. “Very well. Excuse me.”

  As I watched her leave the stables, I nibbled at my fingers, nervous. Norvack pulled my hand from my face, gripping it in his own and staring at me, concerned. “What were you truly discussing with my mother?”

  I snatched my hand from his. “It’s of no matter.”

  “It is. You were crying when I came upon you. Inform me of what she said and I shall handle it accordingly.”

  “It was nothing. We discussed the king’s desire to rid me from your life and I too informed her that it would not happen. She seemed quite flabbergasted that I would choose to stay married to you.”

  “She doesn’t seem to know you as I do, my favorite girl.”

  I wanted to tell him that it seemed she knew almost as much as he did, but managed to hold back.

  “Where had you gone? Leaving me alone with her.”

  “Had I known she would be lurking about, I would not have taken so long. I have a gift for you.”

  “What kind of gift?”

  “You shall see it soon. Come with me.”

  “But, your riding.”

  “It can wait,” he said. “Come.”

  Back at the palace, Norvack had escorted me to my chambers. We stood outside my door for less than a minute as he waited behind me, his fingers caressing either side of my waist. “Close your eyes,” he said.

  “You’re joking.”

  “No. Close them.”

  I huffed and snapped them shut on command, then felt his hand slipping between my arm and waist as he twisted the doorknob. The sunlight from my window immediately hit my eyelids and I turned away, straight into the prince. He kept one hand at my waist and slid the other up my back and guided me inside.

  “Now,” he said.

  I opened my eyes to a set of paint brushes, a long wooden easel, and perhaps one of the largest canvases I had ever seen placed upon it at the center. I was in complete awe; my lips curved into a grin before I even had a chance to fully comprehend Norvack’s actions. I was filled with so much exhilaration, so much elation, I felt it would explode from my chest at any moment.

  I stared up at him, tears welling. “You did this for me?”

  He nodded, stroking my cheek. “You wished to give me riding. I wished to give you a canvas. If I must ride again, you must choose to paint.”

  I looked over at the canvas and laughed. “More blackmail.”

  “Perhaps this one you approve of?”

  “Perhaps.”

  He took my hand and placed the edges of my fingers on his lips, softly kissing them. Complete euphoria rushed over me and my cheeks flushed the color of red wine. “Good,” he said, sliding my hand down his chin and throat, then finally resting them at his heart. My fingers fluttered near his scar. I caressed it again, then looked into his eyes. They were wide, telling. He grinned and I pulled back immediately. “I wish to show you one more thing. Come.”

  We traveled to the west hallway, the grandest and most well-appointed of the entire palace, and he once again told me to close my eyes. I grudgingly did as he wished and he slipped his hands beneath mine, guiding me forward. Then we stopped and I felt him moving behind me, sliding his hands around me. I turned my cheek toward his shoulder and lifted my face.

  “Am I allowed to open my eyes now?” I whispered.

  “Yes.”

  I refocused ahead and sucked in air, swallowing it the moment I realized what was before me. Portraits of the king and queen sat high near the tiered ceiling. Aside them was a portrait of Norvack, followed by a portrait of me, strands of my hair windblown across my face as I stood in the lush green forest, holding a sword at my waist and dressed in men’s trousers. The frame of each painting was made of pure gold. I slipped out of Norvack’s grip and moved closer to get a better look at them all.

  The first showed the queen sitting high upon her golden throne, clad in one of her best red velvet ball gowns and matching headdress and jewels. The globus cruciger and sceptre, most often used for coronation ceremonies, occupied her hands. She didn’t smile. Her appearance was terse and hardhearted, and her chestnut colored eyes purposely diverted from the artist. The king’s portrait hung aside hers. He sat upon his throne as well, one draped in trimmings from his crown to his boots, fit only for him. He sported his best formal wear and proper accessories. The crown on his head was perfectly placed at the center, and his hand rested on the inside of his pocket, while the other lay flat against his leg. He too refused to face the artist, and his look was sullen as always.

  The prince was as handsome as ever in his portrait. Dressed in his normal prince’s garb, he stood proudly with a smirk and one of his many swords draped neatly across his chest as he gripped the handle tight between his fingers. He stood aside his throne instead of before it, or even sitting. And it made me wonder. Though, not before I had wondered of my own portrait.

  “You posed a question to me regarding Willem’s mother prior to our wedding,” said Norvack, distracting me. “Do you remember that?”

  I nodded. “We were in the foundry room. Moments prior to the king’s attack, yes I remember it vividly.”

  “I said if my father’s mistress were his wife, he would place a portrait of her around the entire palace if he could.” He looked up. “I kept this for years believing I would find a place for it within the estates. I was confident.”

  “You were cocky as always,” I said.

  “Perhaps,” he agreed. “Or, quite hopeful as you were in terms of my healing. Hopeful that you would come around to see my way of things someday.”

  “Your way of things included stalking, prince.”

  “Observing, rather.” He winked. “No matter, I was determined to, unlike my father, have the woman I truly loved not as a mistress, but as my wife. And to place her portrait alongside mine in the grand hall of the palace.”

  I lowered my head and glowered. “Your gesture is as honorable as any man,” I said. “However, it appears out of place amongst the others. The king and queen appear royal, as do you. And I appear as the vagrant I was, or, still am.”

  “That isn’t what I see at all, not when I requested the portrait and not now.” He shuffled around me and crossed his arms, staring up at it. “I see a brave woman prepared for battle against whomever would be foolish enough to stand in her way, to keep her from achieving what she desired. I see a warrior, and a princess.” He turned to me and smiled. “I see you.”

  I scoffed. “I see a more boorish sister to the Prince of Denmark, not a wife.”

  “You are no sister of mine.”

  “The queen would disown me if I were, for certain.” I puckered my brows and looked at Norvack’s portrait again. “Why didn’t you sit for this?”

  “What?”

  “You stood aside your throne. Not before it, nor were you seated as your parents. Why?”

  He turned his eyes down, thinking for a long moment. And then he looked up at the portrait again. “My fathe
r requested I not sit nor stand before it. Doing so would have represented an authority he didn’t believe I possessed at the time.”

  “Authority? How old were you in this portrait?”

  “Seventeen.”

  “Oh. Well, perhaps this time, he had a point.”

  He stepped out to look at me, and grinned wide, amused. “Is that so, my favorite girl?”

  “So.” I watched his face in admiration. It was as if everything stopped for a moment then, allowing us to stare into one another’s eyes uninterrupted for what felt like a salacious eternity. I nervously broke away when I began imagining his hands all over my body. “I wish to thank you,” I said.

  “For?”

  “Deeming me worthy of--”

  “Me? You were always worthy of me, Cinder. From the time we were children.”

  “Thank you, but no.” I chuckled to myself. “Deeming me worthy to be in this palace, for my portrait to hang alongside you and the king and queen. I can only imagine their reactions when they are reintroduced to me sitting high upon the wall of the grandest hall inside the palace.”

  “My father shall prepare my burial for it,” he said.

  “Stop. Please don’t speak like that. Your father is ruthless and as I said, I do not believe that he wouldn’t harm you himself if needed. This portrait shall indeed add to his already raging fire and desire to eliminate me from your life.”

  “I shall worry for myself when the time comes.” He rubbed my face, gliding his fingers near my lips. I trembled.

  “No one would ever think to be this generous to me, love or not.”

  “I cannot imagine any man would deny you what you deserve, Cinder.”

  “Many have,” I told him.

  “I would never.” His hand fell to the front of my bodice and he smiled. “Dance with me,” he murmured.

  I snickered and looked about the room. “Here?”

  “Indeed.” He stood back and bowed to me, opening his hand.

  I pushed my hair behind my ears and timidly rattled my head. “There is no music, Norvack.”

  “Then we shall make our own.” He drew me to him and rested one of my hands on his shoulder. “Allow me to guide you as we… shh, listen.” He pointed toward the ceiling and began swaying us side to side.

  “I still hear nothing.”

  “Because you are not listening close enough, Cinder girl.”

  We continued swaying and he released my hand, moving both of his to my waist and shifting closer to me. His cock hardened against the lining of his pants. I had such a craving for him, but refused to show how much in the moment.

  “What we’re doing,” I said. “This isn’t tradition,”

  He bent his head back and laughed vigorously, his teeth glinting in the sunlight that shone through the windows. “It isn’t meant to be, Cinder. Am I not allowed to dance in the way I wish with my wife in private?” I turned away bashful and he pressed his soft lips against my ear. “Choosing to marry you wasn’t tradition,” he whispered. I looked back into his glowing green eyes. “A wedding taking place outside of the estates wasn’t tradition.” His eyes traveled and he arched a brow. “Not having already taken you is as far from tradition as possible.”

  “Perhaps you have become more of a gentleman and less a rogue.”

  “Or,” he emphasized. I laughed. “Perhaps there will soon be a time set aside for us, a time that shall no longer go on ignored, when it comes.”

  “If it comes.”

  “When.” His response was unyielding. “Perhaps even tonight.”

  “Norvack,” I replied dismissively.

  “Perhaps, my favorite girl.” He lowered his face to my breasts and darted his tongue, circling and biting the flesh that peeked over my gown. He nibbled his way up to the tip of my chin and licked my lips. “Perhaps tonight, I shall have you.”

  I exhaled against his lips, rubbing my thighs together and becoming wet as he spoke. “You seem so certain.”

  “You wish to have me,” he spoke softly into my skin. “I am certain of that.”

  “Prince Norvack?” One of his servants came bustling down the great hall. He bowed before us and caught his breath when he looked to the wall and saw my portrait. He turned back to Norvack with wide eyes and an opened mouth, as the prince continued holding onto me close to his body, but said nothing in response to what he had seen.

  “What is it?” asked Norvack.

  “The king demands a word with you in the east library. He tells me that if you don’t come this instant, he shall send his men to retrieve you.”

  He dropped his lids over his eyes and breathed out. “Thank you, I shall go to him soon.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said upon exit.

  As soon as his servant was out of sight, I placed my hands on Norvack’s face and turned his eyes down to mine. “I don’t want you to go to him,” I said, my voice shaking in fright.

  “Your influence over me is much stronger than his.”

  “I’m aware. However--”

  “If my father threatens us,” he interjected, stroking either side of my neck and pushing my hair behind me, “I will not hesitate to strike against him. You need not worry.”

  If only he knew what I had truly feared the most.

  The Grand Finale

  I didn’t see Norvack again that morning, or in the afternoon at brunch in the grand ballroom, to which I had only attended in the hopes that he would be present.

  I waited quite impatiently for him to show at my chambers at nearly every hour following, pacing back and forth across the carpet like a disturbed kitten in want of milk, but he never did. As nightfall came upon me and the moon shone bright through my window, I took a bath to calm my rising nerves, but it was no use. The longer I remained unaware, the more worried I became. Eventually, I was so completely overtaken with fear that something dreadful had occurred, that I went searching the entire palace for him, stopping every servant in the corridor and kitchen, asking of his whereabouts. No one knew a thing, or so each claimed.

  The king had disappeared as well, while the queen had retired to her chambers earlier in the evening and refused to be of any assistance to me or anyone else. I called for Brigita several times in the night, unable to sleep due to my worst fears forcing their way to the front of my brain.

  Within hours she finally entered, albeit cautiously, and bowed, refusing to look me in the face.

  “Where have you been all this time?” I asked.

  “Sleeping, Mistress.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s of no bother. Have you eaten?”

  “No.”

  “I shall retrieve your supper then.” She turned from me in an instant, reaching for the handle.

  “Wait!” Immediately I was suspicious and went over to her as she leaned back on the door. “Had you seen the prince prior to retiring to your room tonight?” She was silent. I leaned away and lifted my brows, staring directly into her eyes. “Where is Norvack?”

  She stood straight and turned her head aside. “Back in his chambers, Mistress.”

  “Back, in his chambers? Where had he gone?”

  “Riding.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes.”

  I paused. “Did he tell you this?”

  She shook her head. “I saw him in the stables earlier in the night as I was in the garden. He struggled climbing atop the horse, but finally managed to sit upright and rode from the estates in a fury like I had never seen before. I had no idea of where he had gone, but he is back now.”

  “Norvack rode his horse? Well, that’s quite wonderful!” I exclaimed. “That is good news! Why would he refuse to inform me of it when I encouraged him so?”

  “He and the king were involved in a bit of a quarrel, Mistress,” she said.

  I swallowed hard. “What kind of quarrel? Was it in regard to me?”

  “I couldn’t hear exactly, but it was perhaps one of the most unpleasant exchanges between them I had ever c
ome upon. Their voices echoed into various rooms on the first floor.”

  I turned from her and slammed a fist into my hand. “A quarrel. I knew the prince should not have gone to his father. He needs someone right now. He needs me. I must go to him. But first…” I looked down at myself with wonder. “Help me undress,” I said to Brigita. “And retrieve the gown Norvack wished for me to wear on our wedding night.”

  She was uncertain, but did as asked.

  “Shall I retrieve your chemise?”

  “No,” I said sternly. “I shall go wearing only the gown he wished of me. The one his father prevented him from seeing me in.”

  Once I finished dressing, I went over to the mirror and brushed my hair out of my face. “He needs me,” I said again, more to myself than aloud. “I must go to him.”

  Brigita appeared behind me and bugged her eyes from her sockets as if I had just admitted that I had committed another crime, this time in her name. “Cinder. You are going to him dressed in something he shall surely wish to see on his floor by daybreak. Have you changed your tune?”

  “I haven’t changed anything, only my wardrobe.” She pinched her lips, skeptical. “Brigita, I only wish to provide him comfort.”

  “Comfort?”

  “Yes,” I said, attempting to convince us both as I continued combing through my hair. “He deserves someone to talk to tonight, someone to listen, especially after how I am certain his father treated him today, as always. It has only been a few months since his full recovery. The king shouldn’t speak to him in such a manner, forcing him to vacate the premises, and I am his wife.”

  “Comfort or no, he shall have you if you go to him tonight, Cinder. Is that what you wish?” she asked.

  I averted her eyes in the mirror and gulped, looking down at my breasts as my nipples poked against the thin fabric. “He placed my portrait in the grand hall this morning. Did you know? He provided me with the utensils for learning to paint as well. And now that he has ridden, despite a bit of struggle and for whatever reason why…”

  Brigita’s mouth dropped open and she shook her head in disbelief. “My, God.”

  “What?”