Pushing through the ache in my shoulder, I barely grip the loop, but it’s enough to wiggle both hands into a tighter grasp. Swinging my lower body up, I grip the loop with my feet. With the edge of my foot grasping it, I hug the loop and wrap my leg around it, pulling my entire body up.
Sitting inside the loop, the metal causes my ass cheeks discomfort. Pulling my thoughts from it, I look at the platform in front of me and begin swinging, just as I did when I was a child when Matheas would stand behind me, pushing me for as long as I wanted on the tree swing. With enough momentum going, I take the leap off the swinging loop and land on the platform, crashing and rolling. With too much momentum, I nearly go off the edge. Bracing myself with my sore wrist and hand, I catch myself before one more roll throws me off.
Rolling in reverse toward the rings, I lay on my back and breathe. Above me, the wood burning ceiling looks sparse, but there’s still plenty of wood to knock me out and drop me below.
Rotating my head to the left, I look at the next obstacle. I’m relieved it’s a simple multi-square rope climb. Sitting up, I wince at the pain that shoots up my arm. My wrist looks as horrible as my shoulder feels.
Beginning my climb on all fours, I ascend at a slower pace, giving my body time to recuperate from the last obstacle. Wood splinters and cracks above me. Looking up, I see it falling right toward me. Gripping the rope with one hand, I cover my head with the other. The wood falls onto the rope squares behind me, burning straight through them and separating the rope from the platform behind me. The rope swings forward, and I hang on tight, preparing myself to be slammed into the pole in front of me. The crash jolts the air out of me, and I grunt in equal parts pain and frustration.
Looking up, I have to climb the rope straight up now instead of at an easy angle. At the top, I’ll have to pull myself up and onto the platform. Gritting my teeth, I raise my right arm and grip the rope square above me. Excruciating pain rips through my shoulder when I try to elevate my full weight. Tears form, lining the edge of my eyes when I try a second time.
Gripping tightly with my left arm, I climb with my feet. Once my feet are nearly to my chest, I place both hands on the same spot and pull up. Tears roll down my cheeks as pain, hot and searing like the logs above me courses through my shoulder and arm.
Two more times of pulling myself up and I reach the top, wiggling my body onto the platform. Laying there, my arms are laid out next to me, the pain so severe, I struggle to keep my eyes open. With them pinched closed, I hear Matheas inside my head. Stay aware of your surroundings.
Whipping my eyes open, relief washes through me that nothing is about to fall on me. Using my good arm, I rise to my feet. Another wave of pain hits me, and I drop to one knee, clenching my teeth through it. In front of me is one last obstacle to the final platform. Another beam walk and I’m there. Stepping forward, I place one foot out, then another. Taking each step, I try hard to keep my balance, flinching once when the pain in my shoulder comes back with a vengeance. The platform is now so close, I can taste the relief of finishing.
Around me, wood splinters and snaps, numerous chunks dropping in unison. Lowering myself, I grab the beam to keep my balance and protect myself from the wood falling like autumn leaves. The next few moments happen in a blur. Pain and pressure slam into my head, back, and right shoulder, knocking me completely off the beam. The colors and shapes around me blend into a fuzzy blur as my body submerges beneath the water.
CHAPTER TEN
—
FIORA
Blinking twice, I take a deep breath and focus on my surroundings. Memories flood my mind—flames, falling wood, excruciating pain as I hit the water. I remember being carried, the familiar scent of Matheas, hearing my father talking to the doctor.
“She has a torn rotator cuff and deltoid muscle, concussion, and third-degree burns on her neck, back, shoulder, and wrist. She’ll need to spend the night in a healing chamber. Tomorrow, she’ll be recovered.”
Inside the horizontal healing tube, I press the release button above me and the glass case opens. Matheas is at my side instantly. With tired eyes, he stares at me with relief.
“Did you sleep at all?” I ask, my dry throat turning my voice into little more than a whisper.
“Enough.”
Handing water to me from the stand next to the healing tube, I take it with gratitude, gulping down the refreshing liquid.
“How do you feel?”
“Sore. I need a healing bath.”
“I’ll start it.”
“Thank you.”
With the water running, I take careful steps and walk to it. Matheas puts out his hand, and I accept it, letting him assist me into the tub. Removing his soldier’s garb, he climbs in behind me. Laying against him, the sore sensations ease away. Arms around me, he kisses my cheek and caresses all over my body.
“I didn’t finish,” I grumble.
“You were five steps from the final platform before the ceiling caved. No one can say you weren’t able to complete the challenge. You finished every obstacle even with injuries, and all of Anauka knows this. Your injuries were made public. Had the ceiling not burned out, you’d have completed it. There’s no arguing that.” With my silence, he cups my chin and angles my face to his. “You’re not being viewed as weak. All night, the people celebrated in your honor, saying you’re a true Queen. A leader who will protect them with strength and sacrifice. They believe in you more than they ever have.”
Eyes roaming his face, I see the pride and affection in them. Burying my lips in his, I wrap my arms around him, rotating my body to face him.
“It gives me relief to hear this. I never want my people to see me as weak.”
Rubbing my side, I indulge in the pleasure of his caress.
“You were amazing in that trial. You proved there is no weakness in you.”
“There is one,” Brushing my lips over his, I stare into his beautiful cerulean blues, “…you.”
With my legs straddling him, I gather his length in my hand and stroke him repeatedly. Head falling back, he gives into the pleasure. My kisses continue to claim his lips as I bring him to orgasm.
“Fi,” he mutters, reaching his climax.
Seeing the satisfaction in his eyes brings me my own gratification, the kind that is emotionally fulfilling, knowing I can bring him such pleasure. Pulling me against his chest, his spent cock presses to my center.
“If only we could stay here longer.”
“I know,” I complain. “Today is the splendor ceremony. The official beginning of the suitor phase. The day the suitors get to admire my body, giving them motivation to win the prize at the end—me in a Royal suite with my legs spread and a crown atop their heads,” the last words drip from my mouth with disdain.
“I hate it,” With a curled lip, he snarls the words. “After today, if they weren’t sure about wanting you, they’ll definitely want you now. Your body is stunning. They’ll all get hard thinking about laying with you.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Waving my hand over the switch, the water drains. “They can stroke their cocks until their cum is dry. To me, this is just another task I have to complete.”
Stepping out, I gather towels for us.
“I’ll be the last one to enter the room so I can escort you out.”
“Good, they’re saving the best man for last.”
With a wink his direction, his lips are pulled into a handsome smile.
“I need to eat breakfast, then I’d like to relax, enjoy the festival before the ceremony. There’s also something else I need to do.”
Matheas’s face grows serious. “Stay away from him, Fi.”
“No, I’m going to get face-to-face with him. Don’t intervene unless he tries to rape me or kill me. That’s an order.”
Through clenched teeth, his head cocks, frustration seething in his eyes.
“Fi…”
“An order,” I repeat.
Gathering fresh clothes, I put them
on. Matheas stalks to the door of the chamber room. Outside of it, I hear him barking orders at the security staff.
Exiting the healing chamber, Matheas stares at me, his eyes full of so much he wants to say, but he knows the badgering won’t change my mind.
“Have him brought to the horse stables after breakfast.”
***
Beneath me is a temporary sensation of freedom. Hooves pounding the ground, Artax gallops around the exercise ring. Ahead of us, I see Prince Belore being escorted by several Anaukin arms men. Closest to Belore are his own protective soldiers. Changing our direction, I lead Artax back to the stables. Bringing him to a stop, I hand the reins to our stableman.
“Princess Fiora, it’s a pleasure to see you this morning.” Belore approaches, taking my hand to his lips. “You clearly know what you’re doing when it comes to riding a stallion.”
With his added smirk, the sexual connotation isn’t missed by me.
“It takes a special bond. I won’t ride just any stallion.”
Matheas’s lips quirk from where he stands behind Belore.
“Walk with me,” I request.
Belore places his hand at my back, putting my body in a state of unease. It’s not that this man is unattractive. With his raven hair, dark emerald eyes, strong jaw, and muscular frame, he can easily seduce women. It’s the feeling he gives me deep in my gut—a sensation I would never be safe with him, never be loved, respected and appreciated like Matheas does.
Leading him into the stables, we stroll past several stalls and come out the other side where one of my stablemen is training an Anaukin yearling. With tenderness, he’s teaching her to trust him and to obey him with that trust.
“What do you see when you look at that thoroughbred?”
His cool eyes observe the horse and trainer.
“A well-bred mare that needs broken.”
Leaning against the barn door, I fold my arms over my chest.
“There’s the difference between you and me. What I see is a mare if given respect, care, and love, she’ll become loyal and be a valuable asset. It’s important you understand, Belore, I’m not a woman who can be broken and taught to be submissive. Nor am I a challenge to claim and use to fulfill your fantasies. I’m a ruler. A ruler of a territory that is strong, beautiful, and prosperous. I believe if I were to give myself and my territory to you, it would be the worst choice for my people and for me. This is the last time there will be talk of marriage between you and me.”
Eyes menacing, he turns to me, looming closer. Backstepping, the stall wall greets my back. Coming in close, he tilts his head as if he’s saying something private for just him and me. Touching his hand between my legs, he applies intense pressure, causing me to whimper from the pain.
“All it would take is for me to tear your hymen and you’d go from the pure Princess of Anauka to a sullied whore without a crown. At that point, no one would want you, but I’d still take you. No longer as my Queen, but as my mistress to punish and force into painful acts of intimacy. Think about that, Princess.” Releasing me, he puts his hand behind my head, fists my hair and tugs, baring my neck to him. “You can either become mine willingly, or I can take you by force, but either way, you will be mine and so will your territory.” Running his tongue along the column of my neck, he tsks against my ear. “The conversation of marriage is definitely not over.”
With my skin crawling and my gut twisted in disgust, I shove my knee into his groin. Belore buckles over, growling deep from his chest, his expression livid.
“You’re far too used to women cowering before you. Hurting Ria was your first mistake. Touching me was your second. Threatening me and my territory was your final error. I’ll never be yours.” Spitting next to his feet, I shout. “Matheas!”
Beyond the stables, every Anaukin arms man sprints to me, including Belore’s men. Standing straight, Belore squares his shoulders. Never taking my eyes from his cold emeralds, I give my order.
“Detain Prince Belore and his men until I’ve had time to meet with King Gregory and King Beckett.”
Around us, my arms men raise their laser guns and point them at Belore’s men. Matheas grabs Belore’s arm. Belore shakes it off, his gaze deadly.
“Don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be,” Matheas warns.
With a click of his tongue, he sweeps his gaze over his men. “Comply,” he orders them.
They take their hands off their own guns and follow Belore as he’s lead away.
Matheas remains as Demerick leads the Anaukin arms men.
“Did he hurt you?”
“Yes, and that will be the last time. Call my father. Arrange a meeting, now. Our hospitality to the Iowans has run out.”
In my father’s sitting room, I find him and King Beckett in leather chairs, drinking ale. Arriving, they both stand. My father with his graying brown hair and cerulean blue eyes that look weathered and tired. I know my night in the healing chamber likely gave him a difficult night sleep, but it’s not just that. In his eyes, I see the weight of our entire territory’s future is exhausting him.
Looking King Beckett over, he’s visibly the opposite. With his raven black hair, sharp intelligent green eyes, and tanned skin, he appears well rested, not a worry in the world.
“Father, King Beckett,” I greet.
King Beckett tips his head, studying me, head to toe.
“You’re quite the woman. Your trials have been exceptional to watch.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“What did you call this meeting for?” my father asks, concern tickling his voice.
Standing in front of my father and King Beckett, I explain the altercation between Belore and me.
“With Prince Belore’s actions, I must make myself clear. I will not be accepting his proposal or any proposal in the future. I respect you greatly, King Beckett, but unfortunately, your son and I are not a suitable match.”
“Where’s my son now?” His tone is sharp, unnerving.
“Being detained in his chamber with his arms men,” I reply calmly, ensuring to only show my confidence.
My father steps in, taking over.
“With the trials having come to an end, perhaps it’s best your visit end as well. You and I both know I could arrest Belore for his actions, but I don’t feel there needs to be any animosity between us. Our territories should not suffer at the expense of a passionate discussion between two future rulers.”
King Beckett’s gaze switches between me and my father. With a twitch of his lip, he takes a breath.
“It’s an unfortunate set of circumstances we’ve come to, King Gregory. We’ll take our leave, but I can’t promise future conversations between us will be amicable.”
Setting his glass of ale down on the tray next to the chair he occupied, he nods farewell to us.
“Princess, King Gregory.”
With his boots pounding the floor, he leaves the sitting room. My father presses the button on his soul band after the sliding door closes behind him.
“Escort the Iowans to their rover craft. Ensure they leave immediately.”
—MATHEAS—
Disconnecting with Sederick, I’ve been given the word King Beckett is on his way out of the palace. Stepping inside Belore’s guest room, I find him standing at the large window overlooking Anauka. Even with only seeing his side profile, it’s obvious to me the man’s plotting.
Standing next to him, I look out the window, observing the rover crafts as they fly over the mountains and river beyond the palace. To the left is the festival with its many colored tents, filled with the people of Anauka, enjoying their meals, shopping, and entertainment. To the right is Queen Melinda’s expansive garden with rows of blossoms.
“Did the Princess run to Daddy?” Belore mocks.
“The Princess made it clear you’re no longer welcome. I’m to have you escorted to your rover craft.”
“She has spirit.” Turning to face me, his smirk
is devious. “I’ll enjoy breaking it.”
Moving away, he proceeds to leave. Placing my hand firmly at his chest, I stop him.
“You ever try to touch her again and I’ll slit your throat. My blade won’t care that you’re a Prince.”
With an over exaggerated humph, he meets my gaze.
“We’ll see about that.”
Continuing to walk away, I speak to his back.
“I promised the Princess I would do something for her.”
Belore stops, rotating on his heels, looking at me with interest.
“Guns,” I order my arms men.
Raising their weapons, they point them at Belore’s men.
“What are you doing, Matheas?”
“Sending a message.”
With swift steps, I remove the space between us and slam my fist into his jaw. The surprise knocks him back a few steps, but he quickly rebounds, a grin smeared across his face.
“I’m going to enjoy this.”
We both face off, he swings, hits my cheek, but I take it without complaint. Slamming my fist into his stomach, he takes the hit, moving back a step, then comes back swinging. Coming for my ribs, I block his fist and punch at his face, hitting him in the nose. Blood dribbles out, but he doesn’t care. Stepping, he swings, I dodge, and he clips my shoulder. Putting more force into my swing, I slam into his gut, and he coughs, then sucks in air. Dropping to one knee, he collects his breath. Putting my hand on his shoulder, I squeeze into the tender flesh, forcing a grimace.
“The Princess sends her regards.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
—
FIORA
Matheas enters my room as Ria is finishing the last loose curl of my hair. Standing behind me, his gaze meets mine in the mirror. Right away, I notice the discoloration on his cheek. The sight of it pains me.
Claimed Royalty: (Crowned and Claimed Series, Book 1) Page 11
