“Then it was.”
His eyes rose to hers, dubious, still anguished, but with heat burning through, an equinox of the heart, turning and tripping the season between them.
“The intention of the mind carries more weight than the action of the body,” she told him, remembering her mother explaining that very thing. Which hadn’t made sense then. Now it did. “You kept your vows to me, Cavan. It was me you made love to. Me who you consecrated to your heart. I have been your wife all along.”
“Then you are still virgin, by that reasoning. You never betrayed me with another, not in your heart or mind. But Nix—that part never mattered to me. More than anything, I wanted a queen, a worthy partner, the one who understands the people and acts to do what’s best for them. You, my queen.” He said it with reverence, placing a kiss on her forehead.
“And your goose girl,” she smiled a little to herself at that. The wintery grief, the freezing rage subsided some, making her think perhaps the clouds would part and spring would come again. “Would you lie with me in truth, Cavan? Make flesh of our bonds.”
He pulled back to search her face. “Are you sure? You said she hurt you.”
Oh yes, the cruel violation. The taunting and brutality. She wanted it gone. “Let’s erase her from both of our bodies, wash her taint away and forge our connection anew.”
Cavan groaned as she touched him in return, parting his shirt, stroking his burning skin. “Now? You’re grief-stricken, nearly froze to death...” He lost the words when she pressed her lips to the hollow at the base of his throat.
“Yes. Bring me back to life, my Prince, flesh of my flesh.”
As if unable to help himself, his hands went to her breasts, cupping them as he might china teacups. The heat penetrated into her body from them, infusing her heart with hope, with a greater fire. She dropped her head back, arching into him. This was real. She came to him a virgin still, because nothing that had happened before had been like this. He lowered his mouth to kiss her nipples and she ran fingers through his dark hair, moving under his lips, allowing the magic of desire to fill her veins, suffusing her with a power she’d never known.
“Nix,” he murmured against her skin and it felt good and right. She’d found herself in nothingness and, like a seed planted in soil, grew from that, unfurling leaf by leaf, soon to blossom.
“Yes,” she answered, pushing the covers aside so he’d see all of her. He took her in, the admiration in his eyes a balm to all her wounds. She knelt up to ease his shirt from his shoulders, to run her hands over his muscled shoulders and lean chest, the feel of his skin like sparkling magic. When she had him naked, she lay back, pulling him with her, spreading her thighs so he’d come between them where she needed him.
“Not yet,” he murmured. “Let me undo what she did. Show me how she hurt you.”
“I can’t.” She shrank away from the jagged memories.
“You can. Show me.”
“I...I hit my head on the ice.”
“Where?”
“Here.”
He kissed her forehead, sending warmth into her, as if thawing the ice that had knocked her nearly senseless. Bit by bit, he covered her skin with kisses, murmuring love and comfort over each of the old bruises, the healing cuts. Her tortured nipples received lavish attention that went to her core, turning chill to heat. At last, at her whispered confession, he settled his mouth between her legs. She cried out at the utter pleasure of it, winding her fingers in his dark hair.
This was how it should be. The two of them, coming together like their kingdoms. Healing all.
They cried out together when he finally sheathed himself in her and a deep vibration, like a faraway gong rang through the foundations of both their kingdoms. Finally joined, the land shivered and settled in her mind and heart, flowing from him to her, into the earth and back again.
Not far away, Falada murmured her approval. Still there, as always.
10
Cavan handed Natilde into the throne beside his, then seated himself. She would take the name with her to her fate, as Nix wanted no part of it. After hearing her story, he couldn’t blame her at all. Much as he felt on edge, he forced himself to appear at ease. Only partially successfully, as the King gave him a curious nod and waved a hand to indicate formal court had begun.
Much would depend on what King Wyn perceived and decided.
“Send the first petitioner,” he proclaimed.
The great doors to the hall opened and Nix, in a gown of white feathers, ivory hair streaming down her back, walked up the aisle toward him. She kept her gaze fixed on him, showing only a hint of her old timidity. Otherwise, she shimmered with power. More people than he glimpsed the ghost of Falada proudly prancing behind her, for a susurrus of whispers ran through the assembly, a tone of wonder and awe.
Beside him, Natilde shifted, a choking sound in the back of her throat. Good. She should be afraid.
“Who comes before me?” King Wyn intoned. Not truly a question, but to set the record.
“Nix, the Goose Girl.”
“And what wrong do you seek to redress?”
“Against the traitor and imposter claiming to be Princess Natilde.” Righteous anger infused her voice, filling a hall gone abruptly silent in shock. All eyes swung to the throne beside him.
King Wyn straightened slowly and Cavan watched him in trepidation, half-afraid he’d dismiss her out of hand. But whatever his faults, Wyn was a fair and honest king. Nix had been right about that—and her reasoning sound for handling this in open court. He would hear her out as he would any of the least of his subjects.
Flicking an oblique look that assessed his son’s calm demeanor, Wyn agreed. “State your case.”
“The woman on the throne masqueraded as a waiting woman and attacked the Princess Natilde on the journey here, causing her great harm and forcing her to trade places, bedding Prince Cavan in her stead.”
The court remained thrummingly silent, no one stirring lest they miss a word of the scandalous news.
“Lies!” Natilde cried out. “This servant, this goose girl, is a viper to my heart. Yes, she tried to take my place on the journey here, but I fought her off. I’ve tried to be tolerant. I thought to let her live, but I cannot sit here and allow her to spew her vile poison in this court. Execute her immediately.” As King Wyn leveled a simmering glare upon her, she added, “I mean, so I advise you, my King. Look at her—she is clearly unhinged.”
“None other than the petitioner may speak.” He turned his attention back to Nix. “Have you any proof of this claim, goose girl?”
“No, King Wyn. I do not.” She held herself regally, unapologetic.
“And do you claim to be Princess Natilde, in her stead?”
Some whispering giggles in the court now, scoffing at the possibility. His Nix did not flinch. She’d survived far worse. “I do not.”
Wyn seemed surprised, glancing again at his son. “No? Then where is she?”
“Left behind as our childhood selves inevitably are. I am Queen Isyn’s daughter, heir to Remus, wife to Cavan, pledged to be the future Queen of Erie.”
“And yet you have no proof.”
Cavan edged forward, but his father held up a warning hand to forestall him. Nix seemed icily composed, but she looked to him briefly a glint of nerves in her deep blue gaze.
“Only this. There are those who stand to benefit from disrupting the union of our kingdoms. Perhaps a search of her things will reveal who she colludes with to undermine both your throne and my mother’s. Also...” She firmed her chin. “Prince Cavan knows who I am.”
“Cavan!” The erstwhile Natilde hissed out. “How can you sit there and say nothing? I am your wife, who you lawfully bedded.” The threat implicit in her tone rustled through the room.
Wyn looked to him. “Yes, Cavan—what say you?”
He settled his gaze on Nix, knowing their connection, to each other and the land. “I know Nix behaves as a queen should. I say search
Natilde’s rooms. If necessary, send to Queen Isyn to inquire. But I believe Nix.”
“What? No! She’s the imposter, not me.” She clutched Cavan’s arm. “Besides, I carry your child. I’m sure of it. I only waited to tell you the news—you cannot have me killed.”
“My son.” Wyn ceded the decision to him, raising his brows at Cavan’s surprise. “This is a question of your queen. Your rule. Thus, this is for you to decide, not me.”
As king, he would no doubt face difficult decisions someday. This one was not. He turned to Natilde. “What would you have me do?”
Natilde gave Cavan a beseeching look, moistening her lips. “You see her. She’s a frail thing. Not fit to be a queen. She’s only a base servant, with nothing to offer the world. I’m your wife. You will find keeping me most rewarding. Execute her.”
“Is that your sentence?” Cavan asked. Her face lit with hope—and conniving greed. He’d seen it in her all along and hadn’t wanted to. “Execution for the one who dealt treachery instead of loyalty, cruelty instead of succor, brutal ambition over duty and responsibility.”
“Yes.” Natilde raised her chin and pointed at Nix. “She is all those things. A cruel, ambitious bully, who deserves a painful death.”
“What say you, Princess Nix?” Cavan asked.
Nix looked on the woman with sorrow, her midnight gaze penetrating. “I cannot stomach more death. It would be best to imprison her. Search her things for information, send to my mother to warn her of whatever we may find, for I’m sure we shall. If she quickens in the interim, the babe will be blameless and of Cavan’s blood. We would raise the babe accordingly.”
“Spoken like a true queen.” King Wyn nodded. “I concur with Prince Cavan’s judgment and Princess Nix’s solution. Let it be so.”
“No!” Natilde screamed. “You can’t do this. I’m a princess! Obey me!” Her wails dragged behind her as the guards took Natilde away.
King Wyn himself stepped down, took Nix’s hand and led her up the steps to place her hand in his son’s. “I fear we can never make things right for you.”
She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I will make things right. Nothingness is the origin of all things. Life will answer death.”
Filled with pride and love, Cavan kissed her hand, and settled his bride beside him. The future lay before them, bright with promise.
Epilogue
Springtime
Years Later
Geese scattered, honking and flapping wings as the young prince and princess chased them around the pond. Nix laughed, rounding them up and herding the lot toward where Cavan awaited them. He took her hand, smiling at their son and daughter as they barreled up the path past them, then kissed her fingers, sending a trill of magical desire through her.
“You’ll make gooseherds of our children yet,” he commented, keeping her hand as they followed up the path to the road.
“I hope so. It’s good for them to learn all aspects of the world and the kingdoms they’ll someday govern. A wise man once told me that.”
“Ha! A man who has done many foolish things.”
She smiled up at his handsome face, his gray eyes gentle with love. “There’s room for foolishness in the world, too. What news of Remus?”
He caught her up on the progress of the rebuilding efforts, bringing good news indeed. When they passed beneath the arched gate, they paused, as they always did. Sometime in that storm, the night they’d found each other, Falada’s head had frozen in place, then cemented into stone. Her visage remained there always, ears high and eyes open, gazing with benediction upon all who passed beneath. Offerings of flowers lay scattered on either side, and people whispered that wishes made to her would be granted, as long as the prayer was offered from a heart empty of ambition and cruelty.
And if Falada—her spirit presence always near—sometimes whispered to Nix of certain things the King and Queen might do to ease the way for those wishes, none would be the wiser.
About the Author
Jeffe Kennedy is an award-winning author whose works include non-fiction, poetry, short fiction, and novels. She has been a Ucross Foundation Fellow, received the Wyoming Arts Council Fellowship for Poetry, and was awarded a Frank Nelson Doubleday Memorial Award. Her essays have appeared in many publications, including Redbook.
Her most recent works include a number of fiction series: the fantasy romance novels of A Covenant of Thorns; the contemporary BDSM novellas of the Facets of Passion, and an erotic contemporary serial novel, Master of the Opera. A fourth series, the fantasy trilogy The Twelve Kingdoms, hit the shelves starting in May 2014 and book 1, The Mark of the Tala, received a starred Library Journal review and has been nominated for the RT Book of the Year while the sequels, The Tears of the Rose and The Talon of the Hawk, have been nominated for The RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Fantasy Romance of the year in 2014 and 2015, respectively. Two more books will follow in this world, beginning with The Pages of the Mind in Summer 2016. A fifth series, the erotic romance trilogy, Falling Under, started with Going Under, followed by Under His Touch and Under Contract.
She lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico, with two Maine coon cats, plentiful free-range lizards and a very handsome Doctor of Oriental Medicine.
Jeffe can be found online at her website: JeffeKennedy.com, every Sunday at the popular Word Whores blog, on Facebook, on Goodreads and pretty much constantly on Twitter @jeffekennedy. She is represented by Connor Goldsmith of Fuse Literary.
Find out more:
@JeffeKennedy
AuthorJeffeKennedy
JeffeKennedy.com
Also by Jeffe Kennedy
Contemporary BDSM Romances
Facets of Passion
Sapphire
Platinum
Ruby
Five Golden Rings
Falling Under
Going Under
Under His Touch
Under Contract
Erotic Paranomal
Master of the Opera E-Serial
Master of the Opera, Act 1: Passionate Overture
Master of the Opera, Act 2: Ghost Aria
Master of the Opera, Act 3: Phantom Serenade
Master of the Opera, Act 4: Dark Interlude
Master of the Opera, Act 5: A Haunting Duet
Master of the Opera, Act 6: Crescendo
Master of the Opera
Blood Currency
Feeding the Vampire
Hunting the Siren
BDSM Fairytale Romance
Petals and Thorns
Fantasy Romance
A Covenant of Thorns
Rogue’s Pawn
Rogue’s Possession
Rogue’s Paradise
The Twelve Kingdoms
Negotiation
The Mark of the Tala
The Tears of the Rose
The Talon of the Hawk
Heart's Blood
For Crown and Kingdom (Coming May 2016)
The Uncharted Realms
The Pages of the Mind (Coming May 2016)
The Edge of the Blade (Coming January 2017)
Other Works
Birdwoman
The Twelve Kingdoms: Heart's Blood Page 8
