She wasn’t in bed with me when I woke up the next morning, but the smell of pancakes wafting through the air made her whereabouts easy to determine. I rolled onto my back and stretched. She always woke me up before she got out of bed, and I much preferred waking up with her than without her. My stomach was less particular. Its growl reminded me that we hadn’t eaten dinner last night, beyond a snack partway through the evening of the squished beignets from the kitchen counter. I got up and headed into the bathroom, glancing at the corner where our dirty clothes were accumulating. The red negligee had a place of prominence at the top of the pile.
Theresa was getting a raise and a bonus.
I cleaned myself up in the bathroom and grabbed a new pair of pants from my luggage. Ivetta enjoyed me shirtless far too much for me to bother covering up. Besides, she was wearing my shirts. They looked much better on her than on me, anyway.
Except she wasn’t wearing one today. She was standing over the stove in a plain white nightgown, one that I recognized from the night of her last major nightmare. I could visualize the scar across her back as I leaned against the open doorway, watching her. She hadn’t brought it up since confessing her fears on our first night here. Neither had I. This week had thus far been the best of my life, and I was not about to ruin it by bringing up a difficult topic such as her past.
She was humming.
I really loved that sound.
A stack of finished pancakes at the back of the stove kept warm while she worked on the next one. The batter in her mixing bowl looked to be almost gone. I scanned the rest of the kitchen while she worked. No more beignets on the floor or the counter, no more powdered sugar dusting every surface we’d touched. That was probably why she hadn’t woken me up earlier. I wouldn’t have stopped her from cleaning it up, as it was quite an obtrusive mess, but I wouldn’t have been particularly helpful to her, either.
My eyes wandered back to her, up and down her slender frame clothed in thin white fabric. Her long, silky black hair cascaded down her back and past her waist, drifting across its white background as she shifted her weight from one foot to another. She set down her spatula for a moment and stretched her arms above her head, interrupting her humming briefly as her back arched and she sighed contentedly.
The pancakes smelled delicious, but she was far more enticing.
I walked up behind her as she picked up the spatula again, wrapping my arms around her waist and kissing her neck.
“Good morning, Chevalier,” she giggled, flipping the pancake.
“Come back to bed,” I murmured in her ear.
“Don’t you want breakfast first?” she asked teasingly.
“Later,” I replied, sliding my hand down and across her stomach to her hip. “Why are you wearing this?”
She shivered at my touch. I smiled to myself. This wouldn’t take long.
“Theresa had the foresight to only pack nightgowns like this. I guess she figured - ooh!”
My nibbling at her earlobe had triggered her self-interruption.
“Now is really not the best time,” she gasped.
“Why not?” I asked, rolling the fabric at her hip up, bit by bit.
Her hand was trembling as she flipped the finished pancake onto the stack. There was still a little batter left. She reached for the bowl, determined to complete her task in spite of my advances.
“Well, the hot stove and the open flame could be problematic,” she replied, her voice shaky as she poured the final pancake.
I nipped lightly at her neck, pleased by the violent tremor that shook her frame.
“Ch-chevalier, this is the last one,” she protested weakly.
“And then?” I breathed in her ear, lightly grazing my fingers across her now bare thigh.
She made a muffled sound in her throat, trying desperately to resist me.
“You can’t hold out for long, little dove,” I purred, stroking her thigh.
She flipped the underdone pancake and didn’t reply. Her skin was blazing hot to the touch. I trailed kisses along her neck, and she automatically tilted her head to the side to offer me more. This time, she couldn’t stop the moan from escaping her lips.
“It’s burning,” I whispered.
She snapped her head back to its normal position, hastily flipping the pancake onto the stack. It wasn’t burnt at all.
“You liar!” she exclaimed.
I chuckled and spun her to face me. “I wasn’t referring to the pancake,” I teased, taking in her heated green eyes and deeply flushed cheeks before I kissed her.
“You don’t play fair,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around my neck and leaning into my kisses.
The pancakes were cold by the time we got around to eating them. She was as exhausted from the morning’s activities as I was, but she still collected the dirty dishes and carried them to the sink.
“Do that later,” I said, pulling her away from the sink and into my arms. “You’re tired.”
She wrapped her arms around my waist and rested her cheek on my chest. “Well, that’s your fault.”
“I didn’t hear any complaints,” I teased, kissing the top of her head.
“No, you didn’t.” She sighed and pulled back. “Let’s go lie down before we pass out.”
I led her back to the bedroom, bypassing the bed for the sofa. Neither of us had the stamina to change the sheets. It was much easier to curl up on the velvety cushions, wrapping my arms around her as she snuggled into my chest.
“This is nice,” she murmured. “It’s almost like we’re just a normal married couple, not the king and queen of a nation.”
“We won’t be able to do this every day when we get back,” I lamented.
“No, we won’t.” She pulled back enough to give me a light kiss on the lips. “So, how is it going to go? Do you want me to wake you up in the mornings, or let you sleep in?”
That was easy for me to answer. I had only to picture her sleepy green eyes and her smiling face first thing in the morning to know what I wanted.
“I want to wake up looking at you.”
She blushed, of course, but her shy smile was much wider than usual.
“Then I’ll just have to wake you up in the mornings,” she replied happily. “And we can have breakfast together, and then you can go off to work.” She snuggled back into my chest, her cheek warm against my skin. “I suppose I’ll still have lessons, and social engagements, but what else does a queen do?”
“Haven’t you learned that in your studies?” I asked teasingly.
“If you expect me to be satisfied with just looking good and producing children for you, then you don’t know me very well at all.”
I chuckled. “I know you quite well, and I am fully aware that will not satisfy you.”
“Good.” She sighed softly. “Who’s in charge of the household staff? Not just the maids, but all the servants?”
She would be soon, if I guessed correctly at her thoughts.
“Everybody prince handles their own servants. Clavis deals with mine and his because I can’t be bothered by such trivialities. With one significant exception.”
She giggled again. “Thank you for that. I’m not sure I could have survived if Clavis was giving the orders.” She peeked up at me again. “You were trouble enough.”
“Not as much as I wanted to be.” I leaned in and gave her a soft kiss. “What were you thinking that first morning in my room?”
“Oh, you mean when I ripped your blanket off of you?” she asked teasingly.
“I nearly dragged you back into bed with me,” I murmured, smirking at the memory. Until that moment, she had simply intrigued me. The sight of her standing in the middle of my room with that blanket, the mischievous sparkle in her green eyes, the warm glow of the morning sunlight streaming through the windows on her slender figure, had sparked the attraction that rapidly grew into an all-consuming desire.
“I realized that when you grabbed me,” she said, that same sparkle in her eyes now. “Hm…” She nestled into the pillow, her finger tracing small circles on my chest. “To tell the truth, I wasn’t really thinking. I was scared to go into your room, but then you were fast asleep and looked so vulnerable, and I guess I wanted to mess with you a bit, just to get back at you for the way you were messing with me.”
“You succeeded.” I gently brushed the hair back from her face, remembering the fierce internal battle that simple tease had triggered, the number of times I wanted to touch her just like this. It was a massive relief to no longer have to restrain myself.
“Anyway, what if I took charge of the household staff?” she asked, getting back to her original question. “That would free your brothers up to handle government affairs.”
“The court ministers won’t like that,” I replied with a smirk.
“They don’t like anything we do,” she countered with a knowing smile. “If they had their way, you would marry a princess from every known nation, and I would just be the favorite of your harem, invited up to your room whenever you were feeling frisky.”
I chuckled. We were going to send those obstinate old men to early graves. “So, tell me, my queen, how shall we further upset them?”
“Well…” She thought for a moment, and then she started laughing. “Oh, I can fix them. Why don’t we only have girls?”
I couldn’t enjoy the admittedly amusing idea. A subject I had been steadfastly refusing to consider was that of her becoming pregnant. Unless fertility was an issue, it was going to happen. Her small, slender frame wasn’t suited for giving birth, even without the pelvic fracture she’d suffered at the hands of her torturers. There was a very real possibility that our time together would be cut short by difficult labor.
“Chevalier? It was just a joke,” she said uncertainly.
I sighed and kissed her forehead. “Did your mother have any trouble giving birth to you?” I asked quietly.
She shook her head. “No, not at all. Which was good, because she didn’t have any help, either. Are you worried that I’m too small to have children?”
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“But there are a lot of petite women who never have trouble. You met Mr. Stotts, but have you seen his wife? She’s no bigger than I am, and they have six children, all born without complications.”
Mrs. Stotts had probably never suffered a fractured pelvis. I wasn’t going to tell Ivetta about hers. There was no need for her to worry unnecessarily when I was handling that quite well on my own.
“From a logical standpoint, I know you are correct. But there are other considerations. Is it safe to assume your nutrition in early childhood was not ideal?”
She nodded. “There were occasional days without food, yes. But my mother grew up without any food problems, and she was only an inch taller than me, so I really don’t think my growth was stunted, if that’s what you’re worried about. I want to have children, Chevalier, and you need an heir to the throne. Everything will work out fine. Besides, I’ve got the best doctor in the world if we run into any problems.”
And I would see to it that every doctor in Rhodolite was on hand if needed. I cupped her cheek in my hand, caressing her soft skin with my thumb. “Have you been made aware of the court's expectations regarding pregnancy?”
“Well, I’m supposed to produce a boy right away, I know that.” She laughed again. “As if there’s any way to control that.”
I frowned. “That isn’t all. Pregnancy is improper. You will be expected to stay hidden for the duration, and if the first child is a girl, she will be kept a secret until such time as a boy is born.”
A fine line formed between her eyebrows as she pursed her lips into a frown. “Well, that isn’t happening.”
Of course, it wasn’t. I knew her better than to believe she would ever go along with that.
“What do you propose instead, my queen?” I asked, grinning slyly.
“I propose getting rid of all the court ministers except Sariel. Why do you even need them?”
“They are meant to advise me. Unfortunately, they have become used to wielding power due to my father’s incompetence as a ruler.”
“Which still doesn’t explain why you need them,” she pressed me.
I sighed. This was not something I wanted to discuss, but she may as well know.
“If it weren’t for them, there would be no Rhodolite.”
“Your father was that bad of a king?” she asked softly, her green eyes searching mine.
“My father was named as king because his Belle fell in love with him. The only thing he was ever any good at was seducing women,” I said bitterly.
“But I thought you said he loved her?”
“He did. But he was too weak to disregard those who insisted the queen had to come from royalty, and he made no attempt to stop those who harassed her endlessly about her background as a commoner. So, he married my mother to please the nobility, and Belle ran away when she couldn’t handle the pressure anymore.”
Which made me wonder if he ever truly loved her. I was ready to wipe out the entire upper class if they so much as looked at Ivetta the wrong way.
She snuggled into my chest, wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling herself even closer to me. “And that’s why you’ve always worked so hard to be better than him, isn’t it? All the things you’ve done that seemed brutal and heartless were things you did to make sure people would take you seriously.”
Perceptive as always. That had never been my explicit intention, but then, I’d never taken the time to analyze my internal feelings and motivations until she came along and forced me to do so. I nuzzled into her hair, breathing in the scent of lilacs I’d insisted our bathroom soaps contain for this trip.
“On the rare occasion he showed an interest in politics, it only took a new woman to distract him and get him out of the way.” I sighed heavily, the force of my breath sending a few shorter hairs at the top of her head into a light tickling dance across my chin. “I hated him.”
“Well, this Belle made the right decision for the right reason,” Ivetta said firmly. “And this commoner turned queen isn’t going to run away.” She looked up at me again and gave me a quick kiss. “Although if you get distracted by another woman, I’ll sic Julius on you.”
I kissed her again, longer, but without the heated intensity from earlier in the morning. She was more than enough woman for me.
“It won’t happen."25Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKVTKYEKlVB
