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oddinarydellequent · 4 months ago

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(Ch. 3) Of Thieves and Plunder (pt. 2)

Black Clover OCs x Canon/AU FanFic

"Attention!"

Three people scramble out of their beds and attempt a salute. Captain Charlotte Roselei walks in and nods at the three standing, but glares at the one still sitting on her bed.

"When the Captain stands, nobody sits, Heidi."

Geniva sluggishly stands up. The captain lets the lack of a salute pass for now.

"Good to see you all recovered quickly. You have some catching up to do.

Members of the Sion family has requested the Blue Rose to deal with a new dungeon that emerged yesterday.

Though our sources from the Magic Investigation Department have noted that there have not been a surge in mana in the location recently, the family insists as it has blocked one of their main trade routes.

You'll be guided by one of our Intermediate Magic Knights, Serene Urania."

A lithe young woman in her early 20s comes up by the captain's side, dark blue hair cropped short in a bob framing an angular face and steely brown eyes.

With a deep voice, she says, "I want you dressed and ready in 30 minutes. Meet me at the courtyard and I will brief you on the mission on the way to the location."

"Move. Now."

They thankfully managed a salute before the girls dashed outside the infirmary.

Ethelrid can barely remember where her room was supposed to be after having only spent one night in there.

With a bit of luck, she finds it and pulls off her clothes and just as quickly puts her uniform on, taking great care to adjust her robe, making sure to pin the rose button in place.

She faces her back to the mirror to see the Blue Rose insignia.

It could be a trick of the light, but the symbol shimmers under the sun rays from the open curtains, and Ethelrid can't help but beam with pride.

Either because of excitement or anxiety, Ethelrid's heart races nevertheless.

Running down the halls has her stomach jostling the newly eaten breakfast the kind nurse gave them, but Ethelrid was not about to be late to her first mission.

Ethelrid spots her senior and throws a proper salute.

"Ah, no need for that. With me, at least. Reserve that for the captain," she says with a warm smile.

Ethelrid could barely reply with her mind buffering. Her senior's temperament at the moment was a far cry from when they were in the infirmary.

"Aw dammit! You beat me to it Ethy!" Amore whines as she jogs with a bag of hashbrowns. Nina jogs along with her.

Amore wordlessly offers Ethelrid some of her hashbrowns and Ethelrid took three, much to Amore's annoyance.

"Where's your other friend?" Serene asks.

"Oh I think she'll take a while. Been moody since she woke up." Amore says between munches of her crispy hashbrowns.

"I'll go get her," Ethelrid wastes no time briskly walking to Geniva's room.

Ethelrid knocks and is met with a "Go away!"

"C'mon Geniva, we're already running late!"

"Didn't you hear me? I said go away!"

Ethelrid would have gone with some gentle parenting - if she knew how.

Instead, she casts her Stygian Form and she disintegrates into dark sand, weaving her way under the door and goes back to her original form to a screaming Geniva.

"Ew! Get out! What if I was changing?"

Ethelrid flushes. She clearly didn't think about that, but after a quick look Geniva was thankfully decent. In fact, she hasn't changed at all.

"You're coming with, whether you like it or not."

"I'm not."

"Then why the hell did you become a Magic Knight for?"

"None of your damn business. I'm not going."

Ethelrid's vein on her forehead is becoming more prominent. What is she going to do with this petulant child?

"You know, Geniva," Ethelrid starts. "That's exactly what a bitch would say."

Ethelrid could barely turn into her stygian form before she was attacked with a strong gust of wind that hit her body against the door, busting it open.

"I should have expected that…" Ethelrid sighs as she lays on the ground. She sits up to see Geniva preparing a spear of wind primed for throwing.

"What? Are you just going to sit there and take it?" Geniva laughs. "Who's the bitch now?"

"I don't want to fight you."

"I do."

"Please just join us in the courtyard. You're making a scene." Ethelrid looks to the onlookers loitering to see the drama, but a glare from Ethelrid seems to shoo the others away.

"Sounds like what a bitch would say."

"That actually doesn't work on me as it does on you."

Geniva ignores formulating a clever reply in lieu of jamming her spear up Ethelrid's a-

Geniva and Ethelrid's vision contorts and they suddenly hold their breath as they are enveloped in a prison of water. Geniva still swims to go choke the air out of Ethelrid and bubbles do leave Ethelrid's mouth in protest.

"Are you two about done being children?" Serene disappointingly looks to the two currently wrestling in the water.

Ethelrid frantically nods, but Geniva could not give a damn.

The water prison splits the two in separate spheres and Serene releases Ethelrid immediately. Ethelrid flops to the ground, coughs out water and gasps for air.

Ironically, Geniva is struggling for oxygen from moving too much. She stubbornly fights against the water confines until she casts a desperate look at Serene.

Serene releases her immediately, leaving Geniva sopping and coughing.

"I know you're still children, but much is expected of you now that you're Magic Knights.

After all that combat in the examination and you think fighting is all there is to being a Magic Knight?

We are responsible for the well-being of the Clover Kingdom's citizens, not only through protecting them from threats but also through lending our services for upholding their quality of life.

You think you'd do any good berating and choking your teammate? Do you have no shame in front of your fellow squad members and seniors?

And you both came so highly recommended. I'm disappointed."

Serene's grimoire leaves her holster and its pages turn and glows as she casts:

Water Magic: Verdict of Libra

A sigil circle of a scale appears on Geniva's and Ethelrid's form and suddenly pain and heaviness blooms in their chest along with shortness of breath.

"Use any magic, and it will only get worse. Fluid will build up in your heart if you do. You don't want that, do you?"

There is a calm darkness around Serene, holding such unsuspecting power that dares one to underestimate her. Ethelrid dares not try to even tap a single mana in her body. She knows that Serene is not exaggerating.

"You will obey my every command. I will only lift the spell when necessary. Until then, I expect exemplary behavior. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," the two replies. Ethelrid looks to Geniva to see fear in her eyes. Ethelrid imagines her own eyes are sporting the same emotion.

They both wordlessly follow Serene to the others. Amore teasingly says, "Ooooh" before Nina slaps her on the back.

They all ride on their brooms, Amore even raising a leg to plant one of her feet on the handle casually.

Thankfully, it seems that using mana to ride on their brooms doesn't worsen the heaviness on Ethelrid's and Geniva's chest.

Ethelrid looks down at the growing distance between her and the ground and she swallows audibly but with difficulty as her chest aches.

A glyph surfaces in front of Serene and water collects around the symbol as she casts:

Compass of Sagittarius

A compass of water emerges and Serene directs the team West.

"The mission is fairly straightforward. The Sion family is requesting to investigate a newly immerged dungeon that has blocked their vital trade route to the Heart Kingdom.

Often a concentration of mana forms the dungeon and said concentration of mana often come in the form of a magical artifact.

So we go in, take the artifact and the dungeon will no longer obstruct the trade route."

"I beg your pardon, Miss Urania, but don't new dungeons often spike in mana?" Nina pipes up.

"Captain Charlotte said that there were no spikes of mana detected according to the Magic Investigation Department. Are we really dealing with a dungeon here?"

"We shall see for ourselves," Serene replies.

Nina's troubled expression does not leave her face and Serene noticed.

"Is there something wrong, Nina?"

"I just… don't feel comfortable taking a magical artifact from a dungeon. It feels like stealing! I believe artifacts must be kept untouched.

Imagine the discoveries that would be made after careful study that wouldn't be possible if the artifact was just sold for a heavy price."

"Don't worry," Serene reassures. "All artifacts are collected and stored by the Magical Studies Department. All artifacts end up in their good hands."

"There's a Magical Studies Department?" Nina's expression seems to brighten.

"Oh yes. They even have exhibits, if you like to visit sometime."

Nina eyes widen and turn to the others.

"Of course we'll go with you, Nina." Ethelrid says.

"Who could say no to that face?" Amore goes to squish Nina's cheeks.

"Boring." Geniva rolls her eyes.

"I'd say with your enthusiasm you would certainly be welcomed by the Magical Studies Department, Nina," Serene says.

"Oh… oh I don't think I'll be accepted, but thank you," Nina says, dejected.

"I'll vouch for you. If you truly want to go in," Serene encourages.

Amore has been pouting the whole time before she pipes up, "You're not leaving m- us for the MSD, are you?"

"Oh no, no dear! I think I'm happy being where I am right now. I barely even started becoming a Magic Knight. It'd be a waste to back out now," Nina reassures, "Plus-" she pauses.

"Who else would be stealing hashbrowns for you for breakfast?"

"Damn right!"

"Alright, settle down, we're here," Serene goes to descend to what seems like an opening of a cave, and from a distance flashes of purple stand out among the greenery.

"The Purple Orcas?" Three of them, Ethelrid observed. Not anyone she knows, though she barely even knows the rest of the Blue Rose.

They seem to be too distracted talking among themselves to notice the team descending until Serene called out, "Hello!"

They startle, surprised at their presence.

"Ah, the Blue Rose," a woman of tall and lanky stature replies. Her purple robe feels almost too small for her size.

"We were not expecting… company."

"Neither did we. Perhaps this can work to our advantage. Strength in numbers and all that," Serene replies.

"Oh, there's no need," a short and stout man replies this time. "We've done a preliminary survey, it doesn't seem all that dangerous.

Still, we would not like to risk civilians entering the dungeon attempting to take the treasure themselves."

"This looks like a dungeon to you?" Geniva says mockingly. "I bet I can go in and out of there alone."

"I would advise against it, young one," the man replies. "Perhaps leave the dirty work to us experienced Knights."

"What would you have us do then?" Ethelrid impatiently asks.

Seriously? Can't even enter a dungeon on our first day?

"You can help us wrangle the troublemaking locals from impeding our work. Yes, that'll do."

"I insist we go with you. Like Miss Urania said, there is strength in numbers," Ethelrid firmly states.

"Oh, dear," The woman steps into Ethelrid's personal space to look down on her with a wide, eery smile. "You would not last even a single minute down there."

"Now be a good girl and stay here," She goes to pat Ethelrid on the head. Ethelrid can only glare.

"Off we go, then," The man chimes in, "With any luck, this dungeon will be gone by tonight."

They enter the cave and disappear into the darkness, their third companion silently following behind them, but not without a long, cold look at the team through his scarred face.

Geniva goes to pat Ethelrid on the head, "Good girl." She says, exaggerating with a high-pitched voice.

Ethelrid slaps Geniva's hand away.

"Well this sucks," Amore moans. "I was really looking forward to dungeon crawling."

"I'm sorry to disappoint, kids. But we are obligated to protect the locals from entering the dungeon. Like I said, fighting is not all we do as Magic Knights."

She summons her compass again, and this time the needle turns incessantly, Serene closing her eyes until the needle stops and points southeast.

"This way," she leads the team through the wilderness.

"Excuse me, Miss Urania," Ethelrid starts.

"Yes, Ethelrid?"

"Captain Charlotte told us that we were supposed to investigate the dungeon. Even with the Purple Orcas around I believe we are still meant to join them in their survey."

Serene sighs. "I get it. You're antsy. You were anticipating to experience what going through a dungeon is like.

Don't get me wrong, I think you all are incredible fighters. But I believe a Magic Knight's first priority must always be the people. And that's what your first mission is going to be - protecting the people."

Geniva huffs, "Didn't think I would be a servant when I went to join the Magic Knights."

"Get used to it, Geniva," Serene says. "You'll be doing that a lot from now on."

Sounds of civilization reaches the team's ears, a vendor yelling out his produce here, groans of working animals there. But among the ruckus, a fight between two men just by the trees stand out to them.

"I don't give a damn! I'm going in, they have no right-"

"And you'll be fighting against all three of them!"

"I can take them."

"No, you absolutely cannot."

"Are you just going to let that slide? Let them take what they think is theirs?"

"We can ask help from other Magic Knights-"

"What makes you think the rest of them are any different?"

The older man then notices the forms of blue behind them, and their conversation dies down.

"Is there something wrong, gentleman?" Serene asks.

"Nothing that concerns you, miss," The old man replies.

"Any Magic Knights business is our business, sir."

The younger man spats, "How about minding your own damn bus-"

"Nothing that you should worry about, miss." Though his tone was not unkindly, his expression remains firm, suspicious even.

"If you're thinking of going in the dungeon, then I suggest you don't. It's dangerous, so leave it to us."

"Of course, miss."

"Let us know if you need anything else." Serene tries for a smile, but neither of them smile back.

She sighs and leads the team to the town square, market stalls lining the streets, a cacophony of bartering and music by the bards performing by the crown jewel of the square, an ornate fountain with three tiers of statues of maidens pouring glistening water on the basin.

Amore sees people taking a sip from the fountain itself and curious, goes to scoop up water with her hands bring it to her mouth to drink.

The sweetness hits and it startles her, and she laughs as she takes another scoop but a small hand smacks her hands away.

"Hey! Magic Knights not allowed!" A kid points an accusing finger.

"Why not?" Amore replies, indignant.

"You suck!" The kid sticks her tongue out and runs off.

Eyes begin to turn at the direction of the pops of blue, eyeing the team's robes and its insignia with suspicion and by some, even resentment.

"I don't think we're welcome here." Ethelrid states.

"You think?" Geniva throws a glare back at some of them.

"Hey." A young woman approaches them, apron dusted in flour and runny raw eggs.

"If you got any business here, I suggest you take it up with the mayor. Otherwise, leave."

"We're not here to cause trouble. We just wanted to protect you all from going into the dungeon," Serene tries for a calm aura, but this only infuriates the young woman.

"We have every damn right to go to what you call 'dungeon' because its ours!" She storms off without saying another word.

"Tch," The breeze picks up as Geniva reaches for her grimoire but Ethelrid grabs her arm and pushes her grimoire back to its holster.

Ethelrid pauses on that statement. Normally, locals would not lay claim to a dungeon, not that they do especially of one that supposedly just popped out of existence between yesterday and today.

She would go approach the young woman who stormed off, but the countless glares discourage her.

"Miss Urania," Ethelrid turns to her senior. "I think it's time we leave for the mayor's office."

"Agreed."

Off to the mayor's office they go, but Serene spots a head of blue hair out of the crowd, and goes to approach them.

"Lord Sion!" Serene calls out.

The man startles and genuine surprise was his expression especially when his eyes found their blue robes.

"O-oh! The Blue Rose! What a surprise!" He stutters.

"Surprised? You asked us to come here."

"Did I? Oh, my apologies, must've slipped my mind."

His eyes shift uneasily, seeming to gather his words before he says, "Well, off to your duties now! I have a business meeting to attend to!"

He briskly walks away.

The girls turn to their senior in their confusion and Serene looks back just as confused.

"Let's head to the mayor's office for now. He'll know what we have to do."

The mayor's office is not far from the town square and as they enter the cool breeze from outside still greets them through the large open windows of the office.

Sitting in the middle of the office is the mayor himself, Oscar Sinow, as written on the plaque by his desk.

He does not seem pleased to see them but he stands out of politeness to greet them.

"Welcome to Ampora village. We have not been graced by the presence of the Blue Rose Knights before."

"We hope you will find your first time with the Blue Rose helpful, sir." Serene tries for a smile.

"I doubt that." Suddenly the mood became tense.

"What is it this time, oh Magic Knights? A survey? A perimeter? More punishments for trespassing on our own grounds?"

"Pardon?"

"Oh, going for the innocent strategy this time, are you?"

"I'm sorry, sir," Nina interjects. "But we don't know what you're talking about."

Oscar pauses and seems to be studying each one of the team.

"You're all quite young. Still so idealistic.

Hmph. You truly don't know what's going on, do you?"

"No, we don't, sir," Ethelrid replies.

He sighs heavily, and motions them to sit on the seats by the table.

"For years, the outsiders, the Sion family, took control of this village along with many others.

With their monopoly on selling goods with prices so low other merchants can't possibly keep up, they are forced to sell what little land and property they have left to the family themselves.

And the family turns those properties into mansions and most importantly - trading routes.

But of course, it wasn't enough for them, to the point that they began to covet our cultural heritage - a shrine dedicated to the first spring of this land. The spring that blessed us with clean, sweet water.

With only the treasure in our shrine in mind, they desecrate our sacred halls as if it's a simple market.

We could never sell those treasures even if we were starving, and here comes the Sion family taking them all as they please."

Nina's face was contorted in disgust and no small amount of rage. Ethelrid goes to place a hand on her shoulder.

"We of course protested against the Sion family, until they started hiring those purple bedecked excuses of a Magic Knight.

They hinder us from entering in our own shrine, saying its under the Magic Knights jurisdiction along with the artifact in it, and I said, 'Sir! There is no artifact, we all know too well, because it is our shrine! You have no jurisdiction here!'

And yet they still won't let us in. They even had the nerve to say they will be forced to use violence if we persist.

Persisted we did. And met with violence we were.

Even our strongest magic users were no match to the Magic Knights. So here we are, twiddling our thumbs helplessly as the fate of our own shrine is in the hands of outsiders."

Ethelrid suddenly stands up, recalling what the man said before they disappeared into the cave.

With any luck, this dungeon will be gone by tonight.

"We need to go before they destroy the shrine," Ethelrid urges.

-end of pt. 2-

pt. 1 / pt. 3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2

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gurugirl · 2 months ago

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[3] It's Good to Be King | mean king!harry

MAIN MASTERLIST

Series Summary: Harry, a handsome, but ill-mannered new king, bound by tradition, must select a queen, and against all expectations, he chooses Y/n, a street beggar. Now, Y/n finds herself caught between the gilded cage of royalty and the cold, harsh simplicity of her past, navigating a court shocked by her presence and a king who revels in the scandal of it all.

Note: Harry is mean/uncouth in this, though things do get better. He doesn't treat anyone around him with much respect at all. Expect to not like him much at first. Also, this is set in the 1800s England, and while not completely historically accurate, I did my best to keep it as accurate as possible.

Ch. 3 Word Count: 8,749

Ch. 3 Warning: Harsh physical treatment, descriptions of extreme poverty, discrimination, humiliation, some light petting, inspection kink (light), corruption kink, mention of parental death (let me know if I missed any!)

It's Good to Be King Masterlist

. .

Y/n had learned that the king had been called away to tend to a minor land ownership dispute in a village that was a day's ride away. He'd be gone for five days as long as there were no unexpected postponements.

When Phoebe told her, Y/n couldn't pinpoint exactly why she felt so wistful. She knew he was a cold, bad-mannered person, so she shouldn't have expected him to speak to her about his departure beforehand. But to feel the tight stretch in her chest that he didn't tell her himself… that was perplexing.

Their interactions over the last few weeks she'd been at the castle had been not more than fleeting. They'd had dinner together a few times, and one evening he went to her room with a gift for her. He didn't let her open it while he was present, but before he left, he placed his hand on her hip when she was wearing only her chemise and said, "This, I much prefer. I shall have another fig tart sent to you this evening."

He squeezed at her skin, his fingers indenting into her newly very slightly softer hip. She understood him to mean the small bit of weight she'd put on was what he preferred.

The gift he left her was a beautiful gold brooch bearing the kingdom's royal coat of arms carved into the center, adorned with sparkling purple, red, and amber jewels. On the back, it was engraved with the name of Harry's deceased mother, the late Queen.

She forced a smile as Phoebe poured hot, fragrant Ceylon into her teacup. "He'll be gone five days? The wedding ceremony is in two weeks. Let's hope nothing delays their return."

"Two weeks already is it?" Phoebe said, lifting the porcelain lid from her breakfast platter. "Are you scared?"

She nodded. "Yes. But I've no choice. My family finally has everything they've ever wanted here. My sister, Dell, cried last week when she tasted the citrus soufflé we all had for dessert. I can't do anything to ruin this. Even if he is the devil."

A dashing devil.

"I believe he's fond of you. He's a cad, but I've seen him look at you when you're not paying attention. Everyone has."

Y/n smiled down at her plate. She only pretended not to be paying attention, but she knew his gaze on the curve of her neck and brushing at her lips when she'd look the other direction. Crude, maybe, but he did show her something about her body she'd not soon forget.

In fact, it had come quite in handy once her bedroom was quiet and she was settled into her down blankets with a book full of wanton stories in her lap. The guilt she'd felt the first few times she'd reenacted what he'd shown her soon turned into a craving she daydreamed of at the most inappropriate times.

Just as then, while Phoebe stood by watching as she ate her breakfast.

"Have you eaten?" Y/n asked.

"Not yet."

"Would you like a biscuit with butter?" Y/n placed a biscuit on a small dish and gestured at the chair across from her for Phoebe to sit.

"It's meant for you, Y/n."

"Of course it's meant for me, but I'd like you to have some. You're my friend. Please, sit with me."

Phoebe offered a gentle smile and pulled the chair out to sit. "Thank you."

Y/n had begun offering some of her food to Phoebe during the mornings when no one else was around. Her friend always denied the initial offer but eventually wound up giving in. In fact, it seemed to be easier to get her to sit with Y/n by the day.

She'd also begun taking etiquette classes twice each week in preparation for the wedding and being seen in public with the king. The council advised that she needed the extra work. Harry left it up to Y/n whether or not she'd like to go. She decided to take the classes but quickly regretted that choice. The governess was harsh and easily angered.

Y/n had the feeling that her teacher didn't like her one bit, despite her best efforts to charm her. In fact, she got the idea that not many appreciated her presence in the castle at all. So she often preferred to stay in her room or her sisters'.

"Have you ever kissed a boy before?" Phoebe asked as she dotted the edge of her lip with her napkin.

"I have. But it was just with a friend because I was curious. And only once."

"Was it Lane? The one you told me about who likes his drink?"

She nodded. "Yes. But I'm sure he liked it more than I did. What about you?"

Phoebe smiled shyly and looked behind herself toward the door, as if anyone could hear them through the heavy, solid wood. "I might have last night…"

Y/n sat her fork down and leaned forward. "What do you mean? With whom?"

"You swear to not tell anyone?"

"Phoebe, you know I would never tell anyone your secrets. Was it Niall? It was Niall, wasn't it?"

The look on her friend's face when she spoke the name of the guard told Y/n everything she needed to know. She'd had a suspicion about the pair a couple of weeks prior when she spotted Niall winking at the girl, and the way her face shaded in pink was a clue as to how she felt about it.

A sudden knock on the door had both girls looking at one another in surprise. Phoebe quickly stood and walked toward the door with Y/n right behind. When she pulled the door open, there, standing in her doorway, was the Lord Mayor, and two men with him.

"Miss Y/n Y/l/n, you will come with us at once," he said, looking behind Phoebe at the queen-to-be.

"What is this about? Is the king okay?" Y/n asked, placing her hand over the broach he'd given her.

"You and your family are not welcome here in the castle any longer."

"What? I don't understand! Is there not—"

One of the men stepped in, pushing Phoebe to the side, and grabbed Y/n roughly by her arm. "Come!"

As she was pulled away from her room, the new guard, Niall, stopped the procession before they got too far. "Halt!"

"Move out of my way at once, guard!"

"My loyalty lies with the king and his orders. Unhand Her Majesty at once!"

"The King's duties fall on me when he's away. This is my command. Move to the side."

"Then you leave me no choice but to send word to King Styles to notify him of your trespass."

Y/n felt her arm yanked as she was dragged down the stairs. She screamed when another set of hands was on her middle, pushing, and then she spotted her sisters, parents, and grandmother already near the entrance, surrounded by men.

"Let me go! You needn't grab at me!" The men didn't listen. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, she was pushed until her knees and hands hit the stone floor just off the carpet. But she had barely a moment to take a breath when she was again being grabbed and hauled upward until she was standing next to her mother.

The Lord Mayor stepped in front of her and reached forward. Y/n gasped when she felt him yank at her dress and then realized he'd pulled the brooch off. "Take them away."

Niall called out before Y/n and her family were directed to load into the horse cart that had been waiting for them at the front of the castle. "King Styles will receive word tomorrow. Do not fear, madam."

Two guards hung on the sides of the cart, and a driver at the front controlled the two horses pulling it, as Y/n and her family clung to the wooden benches inside so they didn't fall. People stood and watched as the cart was pulled out of the castle gates and toward the slums of their overcrowded rookery.

"What's happened, Y/n? What did you do?" Her mother bellowed dramatically.

"I don't know what happened. This wasn't the king's orders."

"Those men were atrocious. Grabbed my toast right from my hand!"

The townsfolk were staring, laughing, and some spat as they passed them by. She was far less worried about her family's reputation than she was about the rude behavior of the middle and noble classes. Y/n may never hold influence or power, but she was a human, and she deserved fundamental decency. She'd always believed everyone did.

Until then. Those people mocking her were the lowest of the low.

Being carted out of the castle in a buggy meant for livestock had been done on purpose. It was meant to be a spectacle. It was meant to humiliate. But it only made her angry. For the first time since she'd met the king, she understood him, in part. Understood his need to cause a stir and disrupt the comfortably spoiled bourgeoisie. Now she understood why he didn't like any of them.

. .

"Your Majesty, I have an urgent message from the main castle guard. Y/n Y/l/n and her family have been removed from the castle without your permission. The Lord Mayor took it upon himself to act as regent in your stead and made the decision to banish them from the castle grounds. Your presence is requested at once to deal with the matter."

Harry had never been so furious in all his life. He'd led an army in war and dealt with enemy soldiers who spat in his face, and had never been treated with such a lack of respect as this. He'd only been gone for two days, and already he had his own men conspiring behind his back. It was in direct defiance of Harry, and that just would not do.

He had no choice but to abandon his purpose and return right away. The land dispute matter could wait. Taking care of the Lord Mayor and everyone involved could not. He bid farewell to his company and left the moment he mounted his steed with his men in tow.

A day's ride across the expanse of Thornekeep and the surrounding villages was tiresome. Harry had been looking forward to more rest before he was to return, but now he had to forgo the gin and the hearty meal that was being prepared for him so he could deal with the unruly cast of characters he'd left in charge of the castle in his stead.

If he'd been a hair more cruel than he was, he would have forced the horses to push through until exhaustion. But he relied on the steeds to safely give him transport, and rest was necessary for the animals, just as it was for him and his men.

And as upset as he was about being disrespected, he was more concerned about Y/n than anything. She was his responsibility, and it was no secret that she and her family were not happily welcomed into their new roles. But he certainly hadn't expected this.

The following day, when he arrived to town just outside the castle, it felt as though everyone suddenly retreated back into their homes. As if even the townspeople knew they'd done something wrong. The vendors and workers averted their gazes.

Pointing in the direction of the town square near where the Lord Mayor lived, Harry looked at two of his men who were riding with him. "The Lord Mayor, go and collect him. Bring him to the private chambers closet off the long gallery. Make him stay there and wait for me. You," he said as he looked at Fred, "Get the covered stagecoach and have Alfred drive it directly to Y/n's home. We will be bringing them back to the castle at once."

Harry and the guard traveling with him rode deeper into the town, where the slums sprawled with wet, muddy roads, buckets filled with slop, decrepit living quarters, and street drunkards. There, the people stared intently. They stopped in their tracks and watched as the king rode by on his healthy, strong steed, with his armoured guard behind him. It was the first time he'd ever gone into the rookeries, where the poor lived and worked (if they could find work).

"You, sir!" Harry shouted at a man carrying what looked to be a heavy sack over his shoulder. The man stopped and narrowed his eyes at the king. "Can you tell me in which direction Y/n Y/l/n lives?"

"Oy…" The man dropped the sack at his feet and looked around himself. "I know 'o no such name."

"She's a woman of 20. Has a father called Peter and her mother Lettice."

"Peter and Lettice… Peter Y/l/n…" He rubbed at his chin and chewed the inside of his cheek. "I might know it."

Harry sighed. He knew the spiel. The man was expecting some kind of payment for information. Directing his horse to step closer to the man, Harry looked down at him with a frown and could smell the stench coming from him. "If you know it, tell me then. If you do, I'll let you continue on your journey unharmed."

The man shrugged. It was worth a shot. "Across from the mill. There's a graveyard at the top o'the lane. Four or five tenements down. B'be careful o'the pigs. They've not eaten."

The smell, as Harry traveled deeper into the overcrowded and filthy streets, was almost unbearable. Every five or ten yards was a bucket overflowing with excrement. He'd always known these places existed, but to see it with his own eyes (and to smell it)… he was appalled. The kind of squalor the destitutes lived in was barbarous.

When they arrived at the rundown tenement across from the mill, Harry jumped from the horse and gave the lead to his guard before sloshing through the filth to step up onto the rotted boards of the platform. He knocked on the door with the loose frame and stepped back as someone opened it up right away.

"Who's that?" The old woman stumbled back a couple of steps and clutched her hand over her heart. "The king! The king is here!"

"M'lady, I'm looking for the Y/l/n family. Are they here in this tenement?" Harry held the door open and stepped inside. The main room was dingy and damp and smelled of stale food and unwashed bodies.

"By god!" The woman sat down on the benchtop and inhaled deeply like she'd been given the scare of her life. "The king is here!"

A young man came down the stairs and looked from Harry to the old woman. "We can 'ear ya! Enough!" The man removed his floppy hat and lowered his head. "Your Highness. To what do we owen'ya th'honor?"

"I'm looking for the Y/l/n family. I've heard they live here."

"Right y'are. Lemme find 'em."

Harry scraped his eyes around the space, and while it wasn't as filthy as things appeared from outside, it was unfit for any human. The woman gasped as she pushed herself to stand and mumbled something he couldn't hear, nor did he care much. She seemed to be half out of it, gin drunk perhaps.

The ceiling was caved in at the side of the common area, where it appeared there was some kind of unworking, rusted stove. The wooden floors were soft under his feet, and the walls stained with moisture.

"King Harry?"

He turned quickly when he heard Y/n's voice. She made her way down the stairs, followed by her three younger sisters. "Y/n. I've come for you and your family. I received word about the situation and came as quickly as I could."

She clasped her hands behind her back and nodded. "Yes. It was humiliating. But we're used to being treated as such."

"You and your family are to gather your things quickly. A carriage will be around soon to bring you back to the castle."

"We were told we were not welcome there."

"The Lord Mayor will be dealt with forthwith. But what he says is irrelevant. My word is final. You will come back to the castle, and we are to proceed as before."

Y/n nodded slowly and motioned for her sisters to go back up to their quarters. "That is fine. Would you like to come up?"

She could see it in his posture and the expression on his face that he was not well in that room. The stench could get to anyone, but at least in the small space where they lived, it was tidy and much less foul. So he followed behind her up to their floor, and she let him into their room.

And it was indeed just a room. Pallets of cloth and feather, and straw were strewn over the floor where he assumed they slept. In the corner was a bench piled with random things: cups, bowls, sacks, a couple of books, a lantern, a tin of fish. In another corner, there was a tin bucket full of charred things, the wall behind it black from soot. He imagined it was their source of heat, like a fireplace.

Lettice and Peter were already standing in wait, their faces like those of young children awaiting permission to play with their new things. They bowed their heads. "Your Majesty," Peter said.

"Nan," Y/n said softly as she bent down to put her hand on her grandmother's shoulder. She'd been sitting in a chair, asleep. The old woman startled and looked at Y/n like she was some kind of horrible intruder.

"Nan, look…" Y/n motioned toward Harry, and the old woman blinked her eyes slowly.

"We're saved? He's come for us. Thank heavens!"

There weren't many things to gather. Harry hadn't imagined their living space as such. He figured a multi-room flat, nothing extravagant, but at least a home with space to cook and use the WC. But there was none of that. No running water, no private space, and no comfortable things to lie upon at night. How could anyone live like that? And that there were seven people all crammed into that room? He couldn't imagine it.

There was a double knock on the door before it was opened. Everyone turned to look as a young man stepped inside. "What's this then? It's true!" He grinned at Y/n and then lowered his head. "Your Majesty."

Y/n stepped in next to the man and put her hand on his arm. "This is my good friend Lane. He was there with me, the day you came to me."

Harry looked the dirty fellow up and down. "Yes, I remember Lane."

He watched his wife-to-be whisper something to the young man, and then Lane turned to look at her with a brief nod as he ran his hand over her wrist. There was no time to challenge what had just happened or to ask what was said and why someone else was touching her like that when Alfred had finally arrived with the covered carriage.

Once Y/n and her family were loaded into the carriage, Harry and his guard led the way back to the castle. He'd seen a lot of things in his life, but he had not been prepared to see the rookeries up close like that. He'd seen the outskirts of impoverished neighborhoods in other kingdoms and towns and but never in his own. Shock might be too heavy of a word for the way it made him feel, but it was close.

He ordered three footmen to take Y/n's family to their quarters and give them whatever they would like to eat (as well as draw each of them a bath) while he went with Y/n and Phoebe to bring her to his chambers. "You'll stay in my room from here on. Your room will still be open for you, but I'm not satisfied for you to be there all night alone."

Y/n was still struggling to wrap her mind around the events of the last few days. Niall had told her to expect the king to come and get her, but she doubted that he really would. She imagined it was easier for the king to take a more suitable wife. A woman used to that life with a higher status. Someone the proletariat would prefer.

She was thankful that he did, though. She'd gotten used to some of the small luxuries (and big) that the royal castle afforded them all. Mostly, she missed her privacy and the comfy bed.

"Have her wardrobe brought over, a warm bath drawn, and whatever she'd like to eat," Harry said to Phoebe, who quickly got to work.

Y/n kept quiet as she watched the king open up his balcony and drape the lace curtains to the side before he poured two glasses of gin and handed her one.

He gulped his portion in one go as she sniffed her glass. "Go on. Drink it. You need it more than I do. Feel free to have as much as you like."

"Thank you."

"You should not have to thank me. This should never have happened. I will deal with the Lord Mayor and see what kind of punishment the council allows. I just ask that if you leave this room, have Phoebe and Niall with you."

She nodded. "Of course."

"I've made arrangements for a formal announcement of our engagement. Day after tomorrow, we will have a public appearance to announce to the whole of the kingdom that you will be the Queen Consort. No one can then deny that I've selected my wife, as it seems they've all done."

He paced toward the open balcony and put his hands on his hips. "I will be gone til late. I have much to do. Please use my room as if it were your own."

Y/n eyed the bed and then shifted her gaze back to the king as he stepped toward his door. "I'm grateful that you came to get us. I'm indebted to you, My Lord."

He sniffed and looked down at his feet, hand on the knob the door. "Yes. You are."

. .

Y/n woke up to the sound of pouring water. Slowly opening her eyes, she found Harry sitting next to the fire, sipping hot tea and reading something intently as a man stood over the large tub in the king's room. She couldn't remember when she'd fallen asleep, but it wasn't long after her warm bath and the big meal she'd eaten.

She wasn't sure what to think exactly. The last few days had been quite dramatic and unusual, then with the king barging into their meager home to bring them back to the castle... He'd returned for her when he didn't need to. He had no allegiance to her or her family, so it was a bit of a surprise that he seemed so insistent that she come back with him.

"My Lord. Your bath is ready."

The king looked toward the man and pushed himself up from his chair. "You are dismissed."

Y/n blinked and watched as the man left the room, and Harry stepped toward the bath to touch the water. He looked tired. She wondered what time he'd returned to the room. When he began to remove his clothes, she thought to look away, imagining he didn't realize she was already awake.

But she remained still and kept her eyes on his frame until he was stark naked, despite her internal scolding to look away. The urge to keep watching was much stronger than her polite reasoning to avert her eyes. His body appeared to be that of a hard worker, with solid muscle and a sturdy build. It had never been a doubt in her mind that he was well-formed, and now she had proof as she watched flexing, dense muscles as he stepped into his tub.

"You may join me, if you like."

His voice startled her. She hadn't realized he was aware that she was awake, watching him. Pushing herself to sit up, she pulled the blanket to cover her state of undress. He'd seen her before in just a chemise, but she still had the sense that it was wrong to bare herself to any man like that.

"Don't be shy with me. I've already tasted and smelled the juice of your quim and you've just seen me naked. Come."

Y/n gulped at the memory of Harry's hands on her body as she let out uncontrollable noises when he'd touched her. Then the aftermath of the forbidden shame as she watched him taste her offering. The lingering thought of the way he'd jutted his pink tongue out to lick at his fingers had her surging with heat.

"My King… It's improper—"

"Now don't start with that again. I say what's proper and what's not, and you disobeying me is improper."

Slowly, she moved the cover from herself and slid her legs to the edge of the bed. Harry had not yet looked in her direction, which she was thankful for as she wrapped her arms over the thin material that clung to her breasts and stepped closer until she was just next to the tub.

He looked up at her. His eyes were bloodshot, and the fatigue in them was evident. "Well, if you're not going to join me, at least sit." He patted the wide stone ledge of the tub as he kept his eyes on her.

Trying her best not to stare into the water, she shifted her gaze toward the fire and sat down where the king had told her. His broad chest rose and fell tiredly as he stretched his strong arms along the top of the tub. She looked down at his fingers, the distance of only 7 or 8 barleycorns away from her thigh. So close he could touch if he stretched his middle finger toward her.

"I didn't foresee the kind of difficulty I'd encounter in keeping you. I knew some would disagree with my choice, but to have been interrupted in my work and so blatantly disrespected… We will not be making that mistake again."

"I'm sorry, it was—"

"Stop." He spoke loudly, his voice carrying a harsh edge. "Do not apologize for concerns you did not create. I have chosen you, and that's final. The Lord Mayor will have to come to terms with his punishment, just as I will have to come to terms with my lapse in judgment. I take responsibility for that egregious failure. But I'm not happy about it."

Y/n kept quiet. She'd seen the king raging mad the moment he stepped into the castle the evening prior, and while that anger had not been directed at her, she felt it as if it were. So part of her still felt like she'd done something wrong. And it was becoming clear to her now that her place as queen was not going to be an easy one. She was not beloved by the kingdom. She was a disgrace to the monarch and tradition.

"Next time I have to take leave, you'll come with me. I don't believe we have any choice in the matter. You're my responsibility."

She gently placed her palm down on the cool stone and watched as he dragged a cloth over his chest. "When do you leave next?"

"Not until after we're wed. And once you become pregnant, all of my duties away from the castle must be delegated to someone I trust. We can't risk anyone trying to hurt you again."

As he wetted his skin and wrung out the damp cloth, she glanced over his shoulder and up his neck to his structured jawline. She imagined his babies would be very pretty. The out-of-place thought surprised her.

"I wish I weren't such a burden, My King."

He dipped the rag into the water and looked up at her as he leaned forward. "You're my burden. I chose it. I bear it. It's what I want. I could very well pick another who's more suitable. Easier. More docile. But I don't want that. I want you."

It wasn't romantic. Not at all. So why did her heart skip a beat when he'd said it? He'd admitted she was a burden. She was not easy, and she was not docile.

"I'm trying to be more docile. I'll learn."

He waved his arm as water dripped from his skin. "No. My mother tried to be compliant and docile, and look where it got her. The moment she surrendered her will was the moment she was sentenced to death."

Shaking her head in confusion, Y/n leaned forward and dipped a finger into the warm water. "What do you mean? The queen died from consumption. That was what we were all told."

"And she would still be alive today if she had kept a grip on her spirit. But she allowed my father to take it from her. He took her charm, her wit, and her will. Consumption took her because she allowed herself to surrender. It was her death sentence."

She had wanted to run her hand over his back in a soothing gesture, but she thought better of it. It was possible he was no longer mourning the loss of his mother and that he wouldn't want her touch even if he was. The queen had been gone for many years.

"I loathe to bring this up right now, but I feel it's important to say. I'm worried that the brooch you gave me, the one that belonged to the queen, is gone. The Lord Mayor took it from me when he removed me from the castle."

Harry's face darkened as he turned to look toward the door. "Did he now? If it's gone, he will pay a heavy price in the form of losing his title. That's theft and punishable by law. But I have a feeling it's still in his possession. I will have it back to you by tomorrow, and if not, I will buy you a new one."

"I'm very grateful to you, My King. You returned so quickly. My sisters are very happy here."

He looked at her face, and his irises burned a trail down the front of her chemise. "And you? Are you happy here?"

She looked down at her lack of clothes and shifted forward so that her breasts were less visible under the thin fabric. "I am. We all are. My family and I."

"Here…" He held his hand toward her, the wet cloth in his palm. She took the rag from him, and he repositioned himself so his back was facing her. Y/n understood that he was requesting her to take the cloth to his back to help him wash.

She hesitantly moved her hand toward his back, as if touching him would set her to flame. But once the damp rag was pressed into his shoulder, he sighed, and she realized that touching him wouldn't hurt her at all. It had been silly to think it would. Running it across his back, she noted the smooth skin and firm muscle that defined his sturdy figure. Plunging the cloth down into the water along his spine, she allowed herself to take him in. The backs of his arms and neck, the curve of his shoulder, and the breadth of his frame…

"If you joined me in the tub, this would be much easier."

It was true. If she were sitting behind him in the water, she'd have easier access to him, but that would require her to remove her garment. When she didn't answer, Harry turned to look at her as he leaned back into the tub until his shoulder was pressed into her thigh. "Keep going."

"Your back is hidden. I can't reach—"

"Then here." He took her hand with the cloth and pulled it over his chest. The new angle of him, his back to her as she leaned forward and slowly ran the rag along the solid muscle of his pectorals, felt quite salacious. But she continued wiping and cleaning him. When he leaned his head back against her thigh, she gasped and paused her motions.

He laughed, his eyes closed. "Oh, mouse… Calm yourself."

She slowly began to rub over the skin of his chest as she looked down at his face. His features were tranquil as he moaned, the lower she dipped the rag. She had no intentions of dragging it too low, but he seemed to be enjoying it as she ran it over his stomach.

Glancing down further, she could make out something dark between his legs, and then the member attached to him as it swayed with the water's movement. It was indecent of her to be looking, but her curiosity was acute. And besides, she'd seen it before already. She knew what he looked like, and right then, it seemed so harmless as it was distorted beneath the surface of the water.

"Lower."

Y/n blinked, casting her sight back to his face. She hesitated to bring the cloth lower against him, but figured she didn't need to go that low. There were other areas she could clean, other spots she could run the rag against. So she leaned in further and wiped down to his hip and the top of his thigh.

He let out a breathy groan and spread his legs the slightest. "Good."

She smiled at the praise. She was doing something right for once. Trailing the cloth to his other hip and down to the top of his thigh, he rocked his hips upward and moaned. When he turned his head, rolling it over her thigh, she felt his warm breath sneaking under the cloth of her chemise.

The moment was entirely too intimate. Harry was quite amenable in that moment, and the way he had used her thigh as a pillow felt sweet. Something about how tired he seemed and the way his eyelids were closed as he puffed out shallow breaths made her body heat. She didn't understand why she was responding to him that way.

But then he lifted an arm out of the water and reached behind himself, his hand pressed over her thigh, and then he squeezed as he moved his palm up to her hip. Her light colored chemise wetted under his touch, and she could see her skin coming through the damp material. She watched as his thumb gently ran along the bend of her thigh.

"My Lord…" She didn't know what she was to say, but she knew she had to say something. Anything… "You're getting my clothes wet."

"Then take them off."

She swallowed and lifted the rag away from him. "That's—"

"Improper? Is that what you were going to say?" Harry pushed himself from his spot in the tub and turned to look at her directly.

He pulled at her hip and grinned as she dropped the rag into the tub and gasped. She loved how it felt to have his hands on her, but she was too embarrassed to admit it as she writhed away from him and stood from the tub to step away.

The King leaned forward against the tub, his elbows on the spot she'd been sitting. "Where are you going?"

"I'm… You're the devil!" She said as her body thrummed with wanton heat.

He let out a loud laugh and felt something slick under his palm. Looking down to the stone, he stitched his brows together and drew a finger through the moisture before he brought it up to sniff. He dropped his mouth open in surprise as he looked at her. "Little mouse… This is not water. Come here at once and let me see."

"No." She looked away from him as she clutched the back of her chemise. She knew very well what it was, she just hadn't expected it to seep through the linen down to the stone. She'd only recently begun to understand the mechanics of how her body reacted to being aroused ever since Harry showed her the way she could make herself feel.

"Yes." He spoke firmly, his green eyes boring into her body as her chest heaved. "Come here and we'll take care of this for you. Now I see why you're so pent up. You need a release, don't you? It's been a hard few days for you."

She shook her head and looked down at her bare feet. She was doing everything she could to be a good girl, to do the right thing by God. But the king, whom she was certain was the devil himself, tempting her, made it unimaginably hard to keep righteous.

"Have you been taking good care of your little leaky spout like I showed you?"

She let out a wobbly noise and closed her eyes to pretend that question had never been uttered.

"I think you have. You very much enjoyed it when I showed you how to touch your little coo. Has it been good? I'm sure you were unable to whilst back at your tenement, but certainly you know well the kind of joy it brings when you have privacy."

She swallowed, the sound clicking loudly in the room. "No."

"Yes. Come here."

Opening her eyes, she let her sight trail over his arms and his face as he leaned into the tub so casually. Like what he was saying wasn't unscrupulous. He was so well-favored in looks that it almost wasn't fair. How was she to remain a proper lady?

"Was it me you thought of when you touched yourself?"

Shaking her head, she quickly glanced away. It was hard to maintain eye contact when she was lying.

"No? Then Lane? Your friend? You thought of him?"

Setting her eyes back on his, she shook her head. "No! Of course not!"

He smiled. "You don't fancy him then?"

"Never. Not like that."

"What about me? Do you fancy me, Y/n? Be honest. I can already tell when you're not being forthright. You can't even look me in the eye when you answer falsely."

Her skin felt like she'd fallen into a patch of stinging nettles as he kept his eyes on her. He'd figured out her little signal. She was no good at lying. But she didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing how he made her feel deep down.

"I want you here now. Come sit or I'll get out and force you to."

Still clutching the back of her chemise, she stepped forward slowly until she was next to the tub. Harry reached up for her hip and pulled. "Sit."

Y/n placed her hands down on the ledge and sat, but Harry pulled at her again until her legs were in the water and the bottom of her chemise was wet. Her heart was galloping in her chest as he placed his hands on her thighs. "You're going to be my wife. Yes?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"That's right. You're mine. So when I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it for me. I don't ask much of you, Y/n," he spoke as he ran his hands up and down her thighs, then hooked his thumbs under the hem of the material and brought it upward to her mid-thigh. "You needn't worry much about anyone else asking you to do something. Just me. Yes?"

She nodded again and watched as his thumbs pushed upward under the chemise over her skin and she thought she would faint.

"What did you eat last night?"

"Uhh… roasted potatoes and cream, salted fish, bread and butter, apples."

He smiled at her as he paused his hands at the top of her thigh, and she felt her whole body flush in embarrassment. If he lowered his sight and peeked, he'd see her full quim she was sure.

"Good. You're eating well. And you slept well too, I presume?"

She nodded, trying to keep still so he didn't conclude how much she was affected by his hands on her.

"You like this."

Blinking, she turned her sight to the table with the water pitcher without answering.

He laughed softly and ran his thumbs along the curve of her thigh where it met her hip. "That's a yes. And what about this?"

She felt his fingers press into the flesh at the inside of her thigh as he pulled and spread her legs. She looked down quickly and sucked in a sharp inhale at the sight. It was lewd for him to see her like that. And yet… She was curious.

"Keep going?" He looked up at her, an eyebrow raised.

"I don't know…" She gulped.

"You don't know? Then, how about I just keep going until you say stop? Yes?"

She nodded. "Okay."

He shifted his gaze further down to her privy parts, and she closed her eyes when she felt his thumb slide against her crease. He hissed, gripping her thigh harshly as he inspected her bits and moved in closer to get a better look.

"Very pretty, little mouse." She felt his thumb slip down further and softly massage until there was a little intrusion. She opened her eyes and watched as the tip of his thumb disappeared into her hole.

Snapping her thighs closed, Harry shot his eyes back up to her and removed his fingers. "Stop?"

It hadn't hurt her, but it was the embarrassment that had her shying from his touch. "I… I don't know. It's… not right."

"What's not right? The way a man and woman enjoy one another? Is that what's not right? Why would God go through the trouble of making humans with parts that can find pleasure in touch?"

"I think it's just meant for the sacrament of marriage."

"So, stop, then?"

She looked down at her legs dangling into the water and wished she were more bold like the girls she'd read about in her stories. The ones who'd found their lovers before they were wed and allowed themselves the indulgence of pleasure.

Harry gently wrapped his fingers around the space just above her ankle. "Look at me, mouse."

She looked into his green eyes and felt like she was being torn apart by her conscience. She'd never wanted to give in to her carnal pleasure as much as she did with Harry. And she never imagined that a man like him would defend her honor more than once. He was crude and undisciplined, but there was something tender, just for her, underneath the cold and pompous performance.

"Do you know why your little coo gets all wet like this, if not for the enjoyment of the act? It's human nature. It's how we were made. You do not need to be shy with me. If you want it, you can have it. As you've seen before, God will not smite you for such a thing as this."

The skin on her ankle where his hand was gripped felt warm, and it sent a wave of wicked craving through her insides. She wanted to reach toward him and push the curl from his forehead and slide her finger down his prominent nose over his plush pink lips just to see what he'd feel like under her fingertips. She wished she were brave enough to slip into the tub with him and fall into the temptuous ways of a dauntless woman.

He released her ankle and stood from the water, his strong, denuded body wet and dripping before her. She glanced only briefly at the organ hung heavy at her eye level before tilting her head back to look up at him. He bent as he took her chin in his hand. "What is it that you want? Tell me now."

She shook her head. "I don't know. I'm confused."

He puffed out a laugh and let go of her chin before he stepped from the tub. "Aren't we all, Y/n? No one really has the answers. Everyone is confused. You just have to learn to speak up for what you want most and hope that it wasn't the bad choice. No one can guide you but yourself."

She turned to watch as he pulled a robe over his body and walked toward his balcony. What did she want most? What if it was the bad choice?

Pulling her legs from the water, she stepped from the tub and guardedly followed behind him, the bottom half of her chemise soaked, which sent a chill over her heated skin. She stopped at the balcony door and coasted her eyes over the view of the castle garden with its fountains and tall trees. In the late spring, it would be a lovely place to stroll through, she thought. Harry was leaned into the stone railing, the tips of his curls in his damp hair already drying from the cool air whisping through it.

He was the sort of man who women whispered about. Both because he had such a rakishly handsome face (and form) and because he had the most brutish devil-may-care attitude. It made him quite a fascinating attraction. But the current of care he had for her underneath his thoughtless exterior was what drew Y/n's curiosity the most.

"You may do with me as you please. Make the decision for me. I won't say no." It took everything in her to spit the words out.

He turned and placed an elbow over the stone to lean into as he looked at her, his head cocked to the side as if she were a peculiar creature. "That does not please me. Indeed, I do not like being told no, but even worse is when I'm told yes and it's a lie."

"Then yes. I want to know. I may as well learn. Not just to please you but to discover my own pleasure."

Pushing himself from the stone, he blinked in surprise, a ghost of a smile turning the edge of his lip upward. "Then tell me what it is you want. Speak plainly."

She glanced behind her at the bed and then back at the king. "I'll… I could lie on the bed, and you could touch me again. Maybe…" She looked down and felt every atom of her being light up with scorching embers. "I'd like to feel your kiss."

She hadn't even noticed that he'd stepped in front of her until she saw his bare feet standing before her. Lifting her head upward to meet his gaze, she could have melted from the warmth on his face. "I haven't kissed you yet, have I?"

Harry placed his wide palm on her frozen cheek, and she closed her eyes. He hadn't kissed her, but the tender touch had her skin sizzling and her heart racing. "You haven't yet kissed me. No."

Blinking her eyes open to look at him again, she watched his irises smooth across her features and drag over her lips slowly as his thumb slid down her cheekbone. "Then we must remedy that mistake."

She'd been kissed before. Lane had been drunk, and she gave in to his persistent bickering to shut him up and to sate her own curiosity. It was hard and dry and smelled of gin and ale and sweat. It hadn't been what she imagined a kiss should be.

So, when Harry nudged his nose against hers, and she felt his hand soft on her hip, she knew it before he'd even closed the gap between their lips, that this would be the kind of kiss she'd always daydreamed of.

She felt his breath over her lips, and his fingers squeezed her skin as his thumb dragged gently at her temple before he pressed his smooth mouth to hers, and the noise of her doubt was silenced. She hadn't even realized that her hands were clutched over the fabric of his robe at his chest, like he would drift away as if in a dream if she didn't hang on tight.

He opened and closed his lips around hers in soft, careful motions, and she stepped closer, beckoned by the pull of his hand at her side. She parted her lips to mimic how he was kissing her, and he moaned into her mouth. She had no time to be startled by the moan and that it signified his delectation, when she felt the wet tip of his tongue lave over her bottom lip before he pulled it into his mouth gently.

Oh god! She was wrong about everything! He didn't need to confess an undying love or obsession that was not there. He only needed to kiss her for her body and her mind to relent to him. It was delicate and confident, prurient and genteel… it was bewitching.

Did one truly not need the magical bounds of love to bloom in rapture from a kiss? Her skin and her blood and the nails on her fingers and toes were all vibrating with the kind of sensation that she always assumed only happened when a soul had found the one it was predestined to.

His hand slowly pushed away from her face and wound to the back of her head as his other reached across her lower back until she was flush against his chest. Her heart fluttered so rapidly at her brazen reach, her hands moving upward of their own accord until she'd pushed her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

Even with the chilled wind whipping over her thinly clothed frame, her blood burned hot. If he took her then and laid her in his bed and claimed her virginity, she thought she'd not say no. Because what was this? Why was the subtle unanchoring of her morals and her posture on right and wrong suddenly categorized as a lie and a truth? The thick veil of deception was quickly trampled by just a kiss. What else would she soon uncover?

When he parted from her, he did not remove his hands, but he set his gaze against hers with a soft wonder that carried over to his features. Slowly, she pulled her fingers from his hair and placed her palms on his shoulders, all in silence. Was he in awe just as she was? Surely not.

But his delicate touch at the back of her neck was an homage to something profoundly affectionate. It had all been unexpected. Perhaps even for him.

"I have much to do today, else I'd remain here with you. It's nearly ten, breakfast will be served promptly. We'll call for Phoebe to help you dress and begin your day."

He stepped away, and it was then that Y/n could feel the harsh wind cutting through the linen to her flesh. She stood, confounded, as she watched the king walk back into his room to dress himself. Frozen in her spot, she let her mind wander to her childhood when she used to play pretend that her prince had found her. He'd sweep her up, take her away, and they'd fall madly in love and rule the kingdom together. Was it something she'd somehow foreseen, or was it just the silly imagination of every young girl who wished for something better?

Confounded, maybe, but Y/n was armed with a new awareness, a definite truth that she hadn't been privy to before. That even those who mean well can tell a lie, and truth can be found in the most unexpected ways. It was an awakening for her to see the way her heart could soar, as if God himself had elicited it. And right then, her heart was in flight like a bird that knew the way it must go with an instinct that directed its path. It was not God that guided the way. It was her.

. .

Chapter 4 >>

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