by Dawn, Stella
I breathe evenly in and out of my nose, reminding myself that it's actually illegal to assault a member of the royal family. Particularly the head of that royal family. I look around the room and suddenly wish that not only books lined the walls. I wish for a long curtain right about now that I can roll myself up in and stand like some roman style attendant before the king. Being at a severe disadvantage I have only one recourse. Summoning all of my imagined dignity, I lift my chin and take a deep breath and attack. "Are you telling me that your library has a dress code? Or are you going to contradict your grandmother and tell me that I am unwelcome here?"
That wipes the smirk right off his handsome face. "As to the dress code, it hasn't been formalized but I must say this is the first time I have encountered a woman lovingly caressing my books dressed in next to nothing at all. I am unused to having guests in this library. This is where I go to get away from..." His voice trails off. I see that his eyes are heated and bright, their stone color is shot through with blue highlights. His intentions are clear.
I can't help but roll my eyes. I have never met a man so irritating. I guess that's what happens when you grow up royal and meant to become King. You have no sense of who real people are. You simply give orders and are obeyed. There are no surprises.
"I'm sure your grandmother had no idea you were here either. She only knew I love books and invited me up here. I assure you, had I known you were here I wouldn't be dressed like this. I also wouldn't have followed her." Part of me wants to flee the room, anything to get away from his all seeing piercing blue eyes. But another part of me demands that I stay. He has no right to tell me where I can and can't be. I mean, how can he disregard his own grandmother's opinion?
King Petros lifts one eyebrow and rises from the high backed chair. Why, oh why, had I not seen or suspected he was seated there in the middle of this room? His languid movement across the room drives me insane. He reeks of entitlement which makes his swagger just ridiculous. It's enough to make me sick.
"Well, then, you are here to select a book, let me make some suggestions for you." He walks around the room, knowing exactly where to go and pulls out a paperback, tossing it to me. "Dressed to Impress by Heather Brand.”
"That's a cut-out book."
We also have Female Invasion, The Guide for Marrying Up, or, my favorite Who Took My Ladder? Hints For A Dejected Social Climber.
I will rise above this, I will rise above this, I will... I say over and over again in my head, not wanting to let King Petros get to me.
"I have a suggestion for you, perhaps you have it in your library. The Prince of Pricks. You might be able to relate."
"Or perhaps this one?" He pulls out a much thinner paperback from the shelf in front of me, holding it up with a grim smile.
"Animal Farm?"
"It's the perfect length--nice and short so you'll have just enough time to read it before you leave."
I grit my teeth, not liking where this is going. "Excuse me? I'm not going anywhere."
King Petros takes an easy step toward me. "You will be soon enough."
It occurs to me that he has something up his sleeve, and since he obviously thinks I'm idiotic enough to not see right through him, I play this to my advantage. "Is this the part where you tell me your evil plan?"
Something flickers in his eyes and he leans in and whispers into my ear. "There's nothing evil in protecting your brother."
Whatever I am expecting to hear, this isn't it. King Petros is a product of his upbringing--an entitled grown brat who's infuriating behavior knows no bounds. But the way he fiercely speaks about Prince Rupert sounds genuine enough.
With that he turns to go, but not before I follow closely behind. My bare feet are soundless on the cool polished floors. Heat rushes to my extremities. "He doesn't need protecting from my sister, well, half-sister."
"He certainly does. I've already got investigators on it since. They are tracing your family from before you were born. I will soon have their report." He turns on his heel and veers left, sending me scrambling to catch up. What is he, an Olympic speed walker? I swallow hard, trying not to let on how out of breath I am.
Investigators? This King thinks he can rifle through our lives, sift and sort through details that only make sense to us. How could I expect any sympathy or understanding to come from any of this? How would he feel if I demanded to know the same about his family? That would make no sense. He is King of an entire country. We are just a blended family without a father who's only fault was he died and unintentionally brought a great deal of care and worries upon his eldest daughter. He could not have foreseen how Gwendolyn would turn all Mommy Dearest on his two children. I don't think I could live with the shame of having King Petros know all the tawdry parts of my life. I only know I have to stop him at all costs.
He glides into another room, and I slam the heavy door. That gets his attention. He pauses before the window and turns to face me but he looks to the side. Why won't he look at me?
"Don't act surprised. I investigate everyone who steps foot on this property."
I want to scream and shout at him, to see his pale blue face flush with the same anger that's boiling inside of me. But I don't. I doubt I would even be able to tell if his color changed by his mood. He seemed to be made of granite.
Across the room he throws open of a pair of double doors and walks to a large oak desk. I don't bother asking for permission. I follow him and stand at his side to see what it is he thinks he's going to find.
The amused smirk on his stupidly handsome face is enough for me to want to throttle him. But judging by his size and the way his clothes fit, he looks trained in self defense. Or perhaps he spends half his time at a gym. He'd overpower me in a second, and I don't think I want to know what that looks or feels like. His infuriating grin that close to my face, the smell of his warm breath blowing feathery touches upon my cheeks and chest. Damn, why had I come up here in a bikini? I shake my head and lift my chin.
I try not to notice that this well built, superiorly attractive masculine physique belongs to someone who is the reigning King of all the land. Right now he is just a jerk who is playing god with all the information available about my family. It isn't fair. Don't we have rights?
If things had been different, maybe I'd find it sexy being in the King's private office wearing only a bikini. Perhaps, if it isn't for the fact that he's trying to look into our history and sabotage Dora's happiness...
"Hmm." The frown on his face makes me hold my breath.
I lean in closer and crane my neck to see what is on his holo screen. I don't care if I'm snooping in his business.
Your Royal Highness -
As requested, I share the results of my last twenty-four hours of investigation. Dora West, twenty-three years of age. Graduate of University of Santa Barbara with a B. A. Her senior year she was elected Social Secretary of Delta Delta Delta, a sorority. Mediocre grades. Passport shows travel to Mexico and Jamaica during spring and winter breaks her junior and senior years. Before her mother remarries, she went to a Community College in Fresno, California along with her twin sister, Antonia.
Mother, Gwendolyn West was married for the first sixteen years of her girl's lives to a Mason West who died suddenly at home. She remarried a widower, Winston Burton, a junior partner of Pan-World Travels. They were married three years until Mr. Burton's sudden death. She is step-mother to Mr. Burton's daughters, Cyndi and Charlotte Burton.
Following college, Dora West worked as a model at Living in Style for two years. She resigned her position when Winston Burton died and Gwendolyn received an open ended family voyage to Proxima Centuri System as a death benefit. This brings us to the present, after vitrification, all parties disembarked upon reaching Kepler 425b, Delta Ohr.
Assets and property were liquidated for the purposes of this travel. Upon your direction this firm will continue to investigate whatever you determine is required.
See attached hours and expenditures.
Discretionally yours,
Ian Sandersby
It's hard not to stand back and smile as King Petros rubs at his temples, his narrowed eyes burn holes in the monitor.
"This can't be."
"Seriously? You find it that hard to believe that we're not spies or belong to a crime syndicate? Or do you simply believe we are a pack of conniving thieves?" I say. What did the King expect to find out about us? Intergalactic travel isn't for the faint of heart and everyone must undergo thorough scrutiny.
"She's only after his money. I know it," he mutters to himself, just loud enough for me to hear.
My nostrils flare as I slam my hand down on the desk. King Petros meets my eyes. "Dora loves Prince Rupert! She is simple, fun loving and I have never known her to be half-hearted."
The King's eyebrows slide down to rest in a flat line, his mouth grows slack and his gray eyes look away, making him look years younger. "It doesn't matter. She's going to destroy him."
I spread my fingers out over the patterned woodgrain of the desk, letting out a sigh. "No. She won't. My sister is well meaning. She is honest too. Listen," I say, suddenly wishing I could make him understand. I don't agree with what he is doing, but the sadness in his voice echoes in my ears. "I get it, okay? I want my sister to be happy. They are old enough to know their own hearts and minds. Its their decision, not ours. So we need to support them, however awkward it feels right now."
He's silent, looking out the window to the gloomy overcast day outside. "My brother doesn't have a very good track record with making smart personal decisions."
I scoff, unable to help myself. "So your idea of helping him is to undermine the decision he just made? If you run your kingdom like you handle your personal affairs, I don't hold out much hope for your subjects. Prince Rupert will hate you if you drive away his true love."
King Petros rises from his chair and towers over me. His cold demeanor and granite face perfectly match his dismissive voice. "You presume to know my relations with my brother and my duties to my people? These are my affairs and you have no knowledge of my kingdom."
The quiet intensity in his eyes freezes me on the spot. Instead of withering, I stare back fiercely. "I don't have to know you well. Any King should know that governing and being family are altogether different. So he turned out different than you. He knows how to charm and to smile and he is a really nice guy. You could learn something from your younger brother. You are so rigid someone would need a chisel to soften your sharp edges."
He shifts to the side, and I'm terribly aware of just how close he's come to me. "I've never met anyone so outspoken and sure of herself. Maybe you should go into law or politics. You certainly have a outsized desire for justice."
His tone is now lilting, playful even, and it catches me off guard. The way he regards me, looking down at me with those sweeping dark lashes, sets off so many alarms in my head. Is it just me, or are his lips getting closer to mine...?
But I'm moving in closer too. It's as if there's a train wreck and I can't look away. His warm breath ghosts across my face, still closer.
We both seem to snap to at the same time. I jump back, furious at myself. How could I have almost kissed King Petros? Why would I do something like that? Blinking furiously, I turn away, my mouth opening and closing like some sort of demented fish. I have nothing to defend my momentary lapse in judgment.
I cannot understand what just happened. How could I, in a matter of moments, turn so swiftly from anger to attraction and end up only feeling confusion? I spin on my bare feet and storm out of the room, hoping that I can remember the way back downstairs.
I can't allow him to have any effect on me. I am completely independent, I'm not a member of his family or staff. I'm not even one of his subjects he can bend to his will.
I bow to no one.
6
Petros
Infuriating woman. Protocol is for others to learn and adhere to. There is no protocol for how a King is to behave with a beautiful woman wearing only a string bikini in his private library. What was grandmother thinking?
Of course, as a man I knew exactly what to do and therefore I couldn't do it. The effort it took to hold my hands to my sides and keep my eyes directed at her eyes and not let them wander up and down and around those curve and dive in between those perfect breasts that looked like twin bowls of chocolate ice cream. I had to swallow just to keep myself from salivating all over the floor like a dog.
No woman alive has had that power over me and she wielded it within moments of her arrival. I could not keep my thoughts from wandering in her direction. I was King. King of Delta Ohr. My brother, the Prince, was the reckless one. He was the one I had to keep my eye upon.
Yet the moment these women arrive all bedlam ensues: running in the halls, curtseys more like gymnastics and every possible lack of decorum. That mother has raised a harem of improper ladies not suitable for court. Gwendolyn. I open the bar and select a decanter, pull the crystal stopper and take a long drink of fiery amber liquid just to loosen my tongue which betrayed me along with the rest of my body.
Good Gods, I have just drunk directly from the decanter. Have I lost my mind? I remember how I had to retreat behind my desk to cover my erection. Then she followed me and I had to suddenly sit down with only a book for cover. Such a deep betrayal. Even my body is mutinous. I am King and I will not suffer this indignity. I ring for the butler to bring me my brother, immediately.
While I wait, I pour myself a scotch in a proper glass and one for Rupert. Throw in the icy perfect cubes and listen for the perfect chime against the crystal. I slowly pour the amber goodness and watch it splash upon the rocks.
My hand grasps her breast and gives it a tentative squeeze, it is perfect. Soft, full, resilient and compliant. A body I desire more than I knew it was possible to desire. Why oh why does that body belong to her?
I lift the glass and toast to its promise of relief and also swiftly pray, 'Save me from that woman and her completely seductive body.'
I still feel completely turned inside out when Prince Rupert comes in with a jaunty smile. He takes one look at me and instantly asks, "What is the matter? Are you unwell?"
"Just a bit of indigestion. I needed to have a word in private with you about our guests. In particular, I would like to hear more about how you and Dora came to be, uh, well, engaged?"
"Isn't she the most beautiful woman you have ever seen?"
I raise my eyebrows and tilt my head in a generally favorable direction. No, that would be her step-sister who drives me to distraction. "She is most lovely and seems to dote upon you."
"I've never met a woman so perfect. I know it was sudden but both of us feel the same. Love at first sight, I never would have imagined how powerful and true it is."
"That's just it. It is visual and on the surface. Her smiles and sweetness serve to keep the illusion going. What do you really know about this woman? How can you be sure that she is the one you want to spend the rest of your life with? Remember, as royalty, we are not allowed the luxury of changing our minds, once our allegiance is sealed."
"I know. All my life I have lived with playing at love like romance was an amusement park. I quickly tire of the fireworks and sensations and move on. But Dora is different. We are so alike. I've never felt so comfortable in my own skin around anyone in my life. I am devoted to her and she feels the same. We couldn't be happier or more in love. Its beyond what I ever expected love to feel like. I want to marry Dora right away."
Well that changes things. Clearly my brother is not going to be dissuaded by cautionary remarks. It would be fruitless to remind him that in the past he has been fickle. "I am happy for you, Rupert."
7
Tori
I hear a knock on my door and open it to find mother. She races inside and shuts the door.
"You need to look especially nice for dinner, Victoria. Let me pick out a dress for you."
I roll my eyes. I know she is going to
pick out one with a tight waist and form fitting around the hips. She loves the sheathe style. It suits her, and Dora, and Cyndi. But not me. I'm too full figured.
Her hand reaches into my closet, like an arrow shot from a bow hitting the center bullseye.
"Wear this." A red dress with a boat neck, which allows for my ample breasts, but the fitted waist will cut me in half. I remembered how its tulip base accentuates my full calves.
"It will remind you how you need to redouble your diet efforts."
I'm already eating no carbs, no dessert, and mostly vegetables. I wiggle my nose like the rabbit I am becoming and say, "Why must I go through all this trouble."
"Because Dora has the Prince and you must get the King to love you."
"But mother, I d-don't w-w-want him."
"You don't know what you want. That's what I'm here for. Tonight you will do whatever I suggest, with no refusal."
"Oh, alr-right."
"Don't stutter. Think before you speak. That will help." Still standing in my closet she reaches down. I envy her slender hips and long legs.
"These are just the thing to take his eyes off your thick calves." She holds out four inch heels.
"Mother, I can't balance on high heels."
She sighs like I am her burden to bear.
We reach a compromise. I wear kitten heels.
She gives me a look over and puffs up my black curly hair and inserts a bobby pin.
"Ouch."
"There. You have such beautiful eyes. Use more mascara."
Mother makes ready to leave and searches all around the room before alighting on my dressing table. "Oh, I almost forgot. Spray some of this in the air and walk through it. The mist of the goddess technique. She plops a rectangular black bottle on low glass tray. See you at dinner." She sweeps by, turns her head and purses her mouth, kissing the air before shutting the door.
