Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“I object.”
Those two words from Conrad freeze my blood. “Conrad, no,” I whisper, turning around and finding nothing short of murder in his eyes. Directed at the prince.
“Send me north, Queen,” Conrad says, his chest hollowing and lifting with passion. “When I left my command, we were on the verge of extinguishing the uprising. There is a breakdown in command now, but I can reestablish the upper hand. Send me back. I will have the situation under control within a month.” He closes his eyes. “Please. She deserves better than this.”
“Hey,” whines the prince.
“Interesting.” The queen appears thoughtful, yet serious as she observes me and Conrad. “Does she deserve…you perhaps, Commander?”
“No. She deserves far better,” he rasps.
“There is no one better!” I shout.
And then I kick over a chair.
I don’t know what happens inside of me, but I shed my usual demure demeanor, and I pick up a glass of water and throw it at the nearest wall, shattering it into a thousand pieces, satisfaction blooming like a rose in my chest. “I’ll decide what I deserve!”
“I’d like to marry her even more now,” remarks Kristof with a weird giggle.
“You’d be wise to shut the fuck up,” growls Conrad.
A collective gasp from the palace staff. “You can’t speak to a prince like that!”
“I serve only Princess Greta.” Conrad’s fingers brush mine and it’s the only encouragement I need to smash my face between his pecs and wrap my arms around his thick waist. And if the staffers were gasping before, they’re on the verge of fainting now. It has been several hours since I’ve had physical contact with the commander, so when he runs a hand down my hair, I whimper and snuggle closer, my whole body tingling. “I will serve her the rest of my days if you allow it, Queen. Hell, maybe even if you don’t.”
“But you’ve just volunteered to be sent back to the front lines, Commander?” Ingrid says quietly, calmly. “There is no guarantee you’ll return.”
While I despair over the possibility that my love could be harmed in battle, he bands an arm across my shoulders, kissing my temple hard. “If I die, I will return from the dead to be with her. Six feet of soil and a wooden box couldn’t stop me.”
“People from Leidenstein are strange,” whispers the prince.
I look back over my shoulder and see my mother appears indecisive…but not surprised. “You knew about us?”
“The walls of the palace tend to echo, and you haven’t exactly been quiet in the evenings. Or mornings. Or afternoons.” She gives us a dry look. “I must say, Commander, I approve of the way my daughter has flourished in your presence. Never did I expect to see her kick a chair. Or shatter a glass, let alone leave the palace with such confidence. She is braver now than before you arrived.”
“She has always been brave,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “She just needed the safety to let it show.”
Ingrid hums, studying us. “I find myself disinclined to wed my daughter to a prince who is clearly lacking in maturity…”
“Hey!”
“You are positive that you can turn the tide up north?”
“I will exhaust myself in the service of Leidenstein, Queen.”
She sighs. “Very well.”
Conrad releases a rocky exhale, relief washing over his features.
I am far from relieved, however.
“No,” I whisper, holding him tighter. “You’ve served enough. You shouldn’t have to go back and give more of your time. Your life.”
“I am gaining a life by going back, Princess. A life with you.”
“Please, no. No. I can’t stand it,” I whisper shakily. “I don’t want you in harm’s way.”
Conrad scoops me up into his arms. “I will leave for the front lines in an hour, Queen. Right now, the princess needs to be reassured.”
With that, the commander turns and marches out of the room.
“Oh sure, just use any available guest suites,” complains Kristof with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Well, this certainly didn’t go as planned.”
No, it didn’t.
It went much, much worse, if you ask me.
Conrad disagrees. Vehemently.
And as he closes us in a dark room at the end of a long, marble-floored corridor, my body pressed back roughly to the door, his feasting mouth tells me exactly how much.
thirteen
. . .
Conrad
Of all the bullets I’ve dodged in my lifetime, this one came the closest to killing me.
One month of service. That’s all? Only four measly weeks and I will have this woman as my reward? I would have agreed to serve the rest of my life if only to stop her marrying that clown. That motherfucker who had the nerve to covet what is mine.
Mine.
One month and that claim will be official.
I am kissing the princess now, her tight body sandwiched between me and the door, her thighs circling my hips, tiara askew. We haven’t fucked since this morning, so she’s extra whiny in between thorough pillages of her sweet, young mouth, and without laying a finger on her, I know she’s soaked straight through her panties.