Ivetta was so busy settling into her new role as queen that it was easy to hide the preparations for her birthday party from her. From sunup to sundown, she was constantly on the move. She was quick to take over the management of the palace servants, as I’d expected, and she seemed to be in constant attendance at one social event or another. Belle visited her once a week, either in the palace or on an outing in town, which provided her a much-needed break. It wasn’t uncommon for us to have only the evenings together, and I protected that time jealously. Talking, reading, making love - the way we spent that time wasn’t important. Just being with her was enough.
I didn’t tell her I was taking the day off for her birthday. In fact, I made no mention of the occasion at all, and neither did she. I gave Theresa orders to bring breakfast earlier than usual, expecting her arrival would wake me up before Ivetta, but the precaution was unnecessary. Excitement at the prospect of spending an entire day with her was more than enough to wake me. The sky outside the uncovered windows above my bookshelves was just beginning to lighten to gray when I awoke. I propped myself up on my elbow, taking the rare opportunity to admire her sleeping face, relaxed and peaceful, surrounded by a halo of her silky black hair spread across the pillow.
“Good morning, Ivetta,” I said softly, following my greeting with a light kiss.
“Mm…” She rolled onto her side, nuzzling into the pillow. “Did I oversleep?”
I kissed her cheek and lay back down beside her. “No,” I replied simply, pulling her into my arms.
“Then why are you awake?” she mumbled, snuggling up to my chest.
“It’s a special day, little dove.”
She finally opened her sleepy green eyes and looked up at me. “It is?”
“You haven’t forgotten your own birthday, have you?” I teased, kissing her forehead.
Realization dawned in her eyes, and a slow smile spread across her face. She shifted up to give me a kiss.
“You’re wonderful,” she said softly.
“How wonderful?” I asked, returning the kiss.
She giggled and pulled back. “It’s my birthday, not yours.”
Maybe, but I had nothing to complain about as I watched her roll onto her back and stretch. Her new white silk negligee left little to the imagination with its thin material, flimsy straps, and plunging neckline.
“Do you know how I spent my last birthday?” she asked, oblivious to my roving eyes.
“How?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbow again to get a better view.
“Applying to work here,” she replied, reaching up to brush my hair back from my face. “Interviewing with the head maid, negotiating hours…”
“Getting assigned to the library…” I continued, smiling at her feather-light touch trailing down my cheek.
She shook her head. “That was the next day.”
I chuckled. She was barely a woman when we met. “You really are too young for me.”
“How old is old enough?” she asked, tracing circles on my chest.
“Hm.” I leaned in and kissed her tenderly. “Maybe when you’re twenty.”
We were interrupted by a knock at the door, which usually irritated me to no end. Today, however, I smiled and jumped out of bed.
“I’ll get that.”
Theresa was waiting at the door with the breakfast tray and a knowing smile. I took it from her and brought it back to Ivetta, who was sitting up in bed, watching me curiously as I propped the tray up over her lap.
“Breakfast in bed?” she asked. “But where’s yours?”
I climbed back into bed beside her. “We’re sharing. Open up.”
Her green eyes widened, and her cheeks immediately flushed a bright red. “That’s very sweet, Chevalier, but-”
“Are you defying the order of the king?” I teased, holding a piece of fruit up to her mouth.
“But this is embarrassing!” she protested, the blush spreading to her ears.
“You let the doctor feed you.”
“That was a little different, Chevalier!”
“Do you want breakfast, or don’t you?”
What with her giggling and protests and my teasing and clumsy antics, it took a lot longer than usual to finish eating, but finally, the tray was empty.
“So, what now, my king?” she asked shyly.
“Now,” I said, leaning in to kiss her before continuing, “we need to get cleaned up.”
“We?” she asked, her green eyes widening and her blush returning in full force.
I went into the bathroom to start the bathwater. So far, all was going to plan. I needed to keep her busy and away from the final preparations taking place elsewhere in the palace. The only tricky part was how to get her from our bedroom to the stables without her seeing anything. But that would come after I exhausted my supply of distractions here in the bedroom.
Of course, she was a major distraction to me, especially when I returned to the bedroom and found her standing in the middle of the room in that negligee. She was brushing crumbs off of it, innocently unaware of my eyes raking over her body. The skirt was just slightly longer than that of the red negligee, but the material was wrinkled up over her back, shortening it further. I took a deep breath and moved to stand in front of her. She looked up at me, the blush that was beginning to fade flaring back to life as she met my eyes. I put my hands on her hips and slid them around to the small of her back, slowly and deliberately, applying gentle pressure to bring her hips flush with mine.
“My queen,” I said, my lips a breath away from hers, “how is your birthday so far?”
A wide smile spread across her face as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Wonderful,” she replied, standing on tiptoe to give me a passionate kiss.
She’d been too tired last night to do more than model the negligee for me. Not so this morning. I lost track of time as we wasted the morning away, but that was the point of it all: to celebrate and to distract. Both were accomplished to maximum satisfaction. We eventually made it out of the bathroom, and I made her sit on the bed while I rummaged through her bureau for a new dress I’d hidden at the bottom of the drawer.
“It’s my birthday,” she giggled. “Shouldn’t I get to pick what I wear?”
“Is this not to your liking?” I asked, turning back to her and with her present in hand. It was a sunny green spring dress, purchased from the same clothier in town where Belle liked to shop. The full-length skirt and long sleeves were made of a light, loose material that would keep her from overheating later in the summer, and the frilly collar and bow about the waist added just the right amount of decoration to keep it from being too plain. It wasn’t something she could wear on a regular basis, as it was clearly commoner’s clothing and would be considered beneath the nobility, but there was something endearing about seeing her dressed more simply from time to time.
“Oh, it’s so pretty!” she squealed, jumping to her feet and taking it from me. “But do the court ministers know that you have a habit of giving me terrible fashion advice?” she asked teasingly as she stepped into it.
“I am more interested in your well-being than seeing you become a pretty and proper corpse,” I replied, tying the laces at her back. “And I prefer the feel of you without all the extras,” I added, reaching around her waist and running my hands up her torso as I pulled her back against me.
“Just watch your hands in public,” she warned, admiring herself in the mirror as my hands came to a stop on her shoulders. I rested my chin on my fingers, studying her reflection. The green fabric was a shade lighter than her eyes, and it suited her as well as I expected. “What do you want me to do with my hair?”
I nuzzled into her neck, her damp tresses tickling my face. There was no question what I wanted. “I prefer it down.”
We eventually left our room, her hair neatly brushed and swept over one shoulder. It was late in the morning, and the hallway was deserted. I sent a servant ahead of us to the stables to prepare our horses while I plotted the quickest route that avoided the areas of highest traffic in my mind.
“Where will you be taking me, Chevalier?” Ivetta asked playfully.
“Hey, it’s the birthday girl!” Leon interrupted, coming down the hallway toward us. He was alone, and his relaxed posture and easy smile told me the path ahead was clear.
“Thank you, Leon,” she said, smiling brightly.
“Any big plans for today?” he asked, looking from her to me. She glanced up at me, blushing shyly.
“None that concern you,” I answered coolly. Until much later in the day.
“Be nice, Chevalier. I should celebrate with everybody else, too,” she chided.
“You will, later.” I took her hand and led her past Leon without another word.
“I’ll see you later, Leon,” she called back.
“Count on it,” he replied.
We made it to the stables without meeting anybody else, something that she would have noticed were she not so excited. I had a picnic basket packed and ready for us, and we rode away from the palace, avoiding the roads that would be busy with the many guests arriving throughout the day. She was blissfully unaware, just enjoying the ride. I brought us to a stop around lunchtime near the far side of the village, close to where she used to live. We sat together on a blanket spread out on a hillside, looking down at the village below.
“That’s my old house,” she exclaimed, pointing.
“That could hardly be called a house,” I scoffed, opening up the basket of food.
“No, it was more of a shack, really. But it was home.” She took the sandwich I offered, her eyes focused on the pitiful hovel down below. “It never really bothered me. You would have hated it, though - the dirt floor, just one room, no privacy.”
“You deserved better,” I said firmly.
She looked over at me and smiled. “You spoil me, Chevalier.”
“Good.”
We ate in silence for a little while. She had a pensive look on her face, still transfixed on her old home.
“I’d never been alone there before Mother died,” she finally said. “That night, before I was kidnapped, I had trouble getting to sleep. I missed your arms around me.” She blushed and glanced over at me shyly, as if that was any reason to be embarrassed.
I put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “It was an unexpected pleasure to hold you in my arms that night,” I said, remembering my shock when she grabbed my shirt and pulled herself toward me. “I intended to stay on my side of the bed.”
“Now, why don’t I believe that?” she asked teasingly.
“You were in no state to handle my affection,” I replied, leaning over and kissing her forehead. “It was the nightmare that brought you to my arms, and that was your move, not mine.”
“That makes me sound so desperate,” she said with a sigh, leaning her head against my shoulder.
“You were.”
Not in a bad way. She was exhausted and frightened, and she saw me as a source of safety and security. I only wished she’d come to me sooner.
She was quiet again. I looked down at her, staring off into space, her thoughts racing behind her green eyes as they had when we first met, processing and making sense of something. Her hands fidgeted in her lap; her shoulder tensed under my hand.
I should have picked a different spot.
“Ivetta.”
“Sorry, I was just…never mind,” she said quietly.
Something was wrong. After all this time, did she still not trust me?
“Don’t try to hide something from me, little dove,” I said softly, slipping my fingers under her chin and turning her to face me. Her green eyes searched mine, and she bit her lip nervously.
“I was…just thinking about that night Gilbert came to see me,” she said hesitantly.
A knot formed in my stomach. “You never told me what happened.” Beyond a vague summary entirely lacking in detail.
“I never told anybody, but…if it’s okay, I’d like to tell you now.”
I nodded reluctantly, clenching my jaw. Whatever she was about to say was guaranteed to rekindle my anger toward him, but she clearly needed to talk about it.
She took a deep breath and turned forward, pointing toward the river northwest of the village. “See that spot at the river? Right at the bend?”
“Yes.”
She dropped her hand to her side again, digging her fingers into the blanket beneath us. “That’s where Gilbert found me that night. I was cleaning out that awful bucket. You know the one. You couldn’t have missed smelling it when you brought me to my house.”
“I remember.”
“You sent me home early to get some rest, but I had so much work to do that I was still awake long after dark, cleaning that stupid bucket. I was tired, and crying, and then he just appeared out of nowhere. He knew where I lived, he found out where I was from Rachel - John Stotts’ little girl - and I was terrified that he’d done something to her or Mother. But he hadn’t.”
I clenched my fists, picturing him standing over her in the dark when she was already fragile and vulnerable. He had an uncanny ability to isolate her from all outside help.
She shook her head, as if to shake her thoughts into place. “It was so confusing. He didn’t threaten me, or anybody, and he was upset about what I was doing, and he didn’t like seeing me cry. I didn’t know how to handle him. I threw the bucket away; I think I screamed something about hating it; and then he grabbed my wrist and brought me right past here, into those trees.”
She pointed again, this time to the forest behind our blanket. West of the village, the same route taken by her captors the very next night. Late at night, with nobody around, shielded from sight and sound. He could easily have taken her away, covering his tracks by crossing the river deeper into the forest, and I wouldn’t have known until morning.
“I just went along with him, too tired to even question what he was doing, until he told me to stop crying and started kissing my tears. That was when I got angry. I pushed him away and told him my life was torture enough without him harassing me. That upset him, but he didn’t hurt me. I told him that he couldn’t touch me, that you were the only one who got to touch me, and that I hadn’t let you kiss me yet. And…then he walked me home, and that was it.”
She took a deep breath and looked back up at me, her green eyes earnest and confused. My emotions were not so innocent. Blood was rushing in my ears, boiling over with searing heat. She was right not to tell me the next morning. I would have killed him without a second thought. I wanted to kill him now.
“It was all so weird that I wouldn’t let myself think about it,” she continued. “I can’t say for sure what he was thinking, although I can guess. But for me…when he started kissing me, it was a shock. Not because of him, but because of you. I realized that I didn’t want him kissing me. I wanted you kissing me. And I didn’t want him stealing the first kiss that should have been yours.”
I knew what he was thinking. His infatuation had reached the point where he decided to steal her away, but he didn’t know how to handle her when he found her in a state of emotional distress. He clumsily tried to comfort her, and she rejected him. The fact that he accepted that and didn’t drag her off against her will spoke volumes for how he felt about her.
But I shouldn’t be focusing on him right now. I needed to focus on her. She was looking at me the same way she had the day after that happened, when I pulled her behind a pillar in the entrance hall in the hopes of stealing a kiss. I’d allowed Gilbert to distract me then, focusing on her words about telling Gilbert that only I was allowed to touch her, and the obvious inference that he had tried to touch her, instead of focusing on her. She wanted me to kiss her then, and I missed the opportunity. She wanted me to kiss her now.
It was done. It was in the past. Gilbert had lost, and I had won.
I sighed and cupped her cheek in my hand, gently caressing her skin with my thumb.
“Did he?”
“No,” she said quickly. “What I told you later was true. I’d been kissed before - by Gilbert - but never on the lips.”
I leaned in and kissed her, softly, tenderly, tasting all her emotion in her sweet, eager lips.
She may as well know. That was what was bothering her - not knowing.
“He escaped the palace to come after you,” I murmured, pulling back just a breath. “And he took you west, toward Obsidian. Did you hear any horses?”
“No, but I really wasn’t paying much attention to my surroundings. Do you…think he was going to take me away?”
“Yes.” I kissed her again, pushing her unresisting frame back onto the blanket. “But he loved you too much to do something against your will.”
“What?” she asked incredulously, pushing me back just enough for her wide green eyes to take in my expression.
“And he still does.”
I couldn’t really blame him. Her personality drew me in from the first day I met her, and it only took a split second of feeling her soft curves against me to cause thoughts of her to fill my every waking moment. The soft curves that were pressed into me now, evading my touch by a single layer of fabric. I rested my hands on her sides, just under her arms, and slowly ran them down to her hips, savoring every dip and curve along the way.
“Why do you think he’s been so agreeable to all of Rhodolite’s demands?” I asked, enjoying the shiver running through her.
“I guess I thought he had to after his crimes were exposed,” she said slowly, her green eyes wandering to my lips.
I chuckled. “You are a naïve little dove.” I leaned in again, giving her the intense kiss she wanted. Her soft moan made my fingers dig into her hips. Nobody but me got to hear that sound. I scattered kisses across her cheeks and jawline, covering every spot Gilbert’s lips may have touched.
“But…Chevalier…you’re not mad?” she gasped.
There was very little room for anger when she was responding this way to me.
“Why should I be? He tried to take you away from me, but he sent you running back to my arms.”
“Well, I didn’t run,” she said breathlessly.
A violent shiver ran through her when my teeth grazed her earlobe. I nibbled and tugged at the sensitive skin, searching for another such reaction. She did not disappoint me.
“Chevalier!” she cried out, one of her legs sliding against mine.
“I’m going to make you forget his name,” I said huskily, nipping down her neck.
“S-someone might see us,” she moaned, tangling her hands in my hair.
Not likely. A blanket invitation to the party had gone out to the village, and I’d seen no signs of life the last time I looked down the hill. But she didn’t know that, and I could stop this short and pick it up later if she preferred.
“I don’t need to make love to you to accomplish my goal,” I purred, sliding my hands around to her back and up along her spine as my kisses reached her collarbone.
“Oh, Chevalier,” she moaned, arching her back and pressing harder into me, her breath coming short and fast.
“You’re mine, Ivetta,” I breathed.
“Uh huh,” was all she could manage as my kisses continued.
I kept up my onslaught of kisses and caresses, drinking in every sweet sound she made, until the only word she could say was my name. It didn’t take nearly long enough. But her adoring green eyes, the way she snuggled up to my chest as we lay basking in the sunlight, was reward aplenty for my efforts. That, and the prospect of seeing the expression on Gilbert’s face when he saw us together at the party. I wasn’t above gloating about the prize I’d stolen from him.47Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYlLa4D1H1V
