Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Tuscany
I selected a dress to wear for my birthday celebration tomorrow. I don’t know what Lord Bled has in mind. I’m certain my anxieties will come out to play, but I have a dark knight. Things feel different.
The gown I chose is off-white with gold boning. A matching cape is clipped at the shoulders of a swooping neckline. It reminds me of the forest. Though it has no green. It’s natural, elegant, and moves around my body in an organic way.
Today, I am in a velvety purple dress that covers me from neck to ankle to wrist. My hair is plaited and twisted on top of my crown like a coiled golden snake, exposing my neck.
My ladies and I plan on exploring the Hall, having a quiet day inside. Given my birthday tomorrow will be overwhelming and the following few days I need to focus on digging for secrets, I strategically need calm.
So today I wish to nurture my introverted side. As Dear One said, there are hundreds of rooms to explore and enjoy in Lord Bled’s Hall.
A relaxed air has surrounded my Army ladies and me, one I’ve not felt before. Knowing some of Essen’s secrets, having her acknowledge mine, has put to rest something inside me.
When we leave the room, my dark knight is standing with his arms folded over his chest and his face absent of emotion.
He doesn’t lower his gaze as I stop in front of him, but he does raise one eyebrow.
Asking me a question? Am I going to behave?
I have had a taste of mischief these past few days, and I thoroughly enjoy its sweet and bitter tang.
I bite my lower lip to stop my smile. It’s then I realise this might be the perfect situation to request solitary time.
The last opportunity. As every other day we’ll be meeting and greeting, campaigning in front of the CR Guard.
My stomach drops, thinking about what happens from then on.
When we travel to Windmill Five and I… I will be sneaking away with Ana— No, I can’t think about that right now.
“As tomorrow will be rather… busy.” I turn to Essen and Ana, lifting my chin, capturing confidence in my stance. “I think I would like to wander the Hall alone.”
“But, my queen—” Essen starts.
“I will take Kong.”
Ana desperately tries to hide her knowing smile. This is my favourite kind of smile. Eyes respond, cheeks lift, but the lips curl or fold to lock the expression in place.
“Of course,” Ana says through her hidden smile. “We have a lot of work to do on the bouquets and in organising the gifts for the citizens.”
“Please feel free to take some leisure time. I hear Lord Bled has an observatory.”
With that, I begin to walk away aimlessly, sensing my powerful sentry a few paces behind me.
I can hear his heavy footsteps, the sound a declaration of his weight and power.
I can feel his radiant heat, imaginary or real, and my insides clench.
I wonder if he feels it, too. If this sensation is something he's projecting, eyes watching me walk, my body move.
“Do you mind making a stop?” His voice halts me mid-stride. I turn to see what he is doing. He has stopped at a door and is unlocking it with a key. “This is my room. I need to get something.”
“I’ve never seen your room.” Strange, I’ve never thought about what his room might look like, or how it might be decorated.
I step toward the open door when he goes inside. Peering in, I gaze around the plain room occupied by a weight bench, single bed, a small table, and another door that must be the bathroom.
He is in front of me quickly, closing the door, holding a small jewellery box in his massive palm.
I step backward, staring at it.
“Happy birthday, little queen.”
“It is not until tomorrow.”
“We may not be alone tomorrow.”
I drag a sharp breath in and take the little box. Inside is a gold bracelet. The pendant is an oval-shaped piece of gold; the edges beaten not smooth. Rustic. In the centre, a single yellow stone with carved lines beaming out from it, like rays.
He pulls it out. The chain looks tiny balancing on his two fingers. I immediately lift my wrist, wanting it on right now. Tears gather in my eyes, burning instantly.
“Your brother and I travelled The Cradle a lot. Especially at the beginning of his reign,” he says, voice steady with sentiment and deep with intimacy. “We were gone more often than we were at The Estate.”
My vision blurs. “I know.”
His fingers brush mine as he fastens the little clasp. “I saw this a long time ago at a Common market.”
I scoff. “My brother, Rome of The Strait, went to a Common market?”
A small grin touches his lips. “No, little queen. He was being a young prince, so he was in a local House. With their House Girls. And I went for a walk while he…” He stammers. “Well, you know.”
“Oh.” I think about Aster, shocked. “How long ago was this?”
“Nearly fifteen years ago.”
Relief floods me, then the reality of where I was fifteen years ago washes over me. “So, you got this for me while I was...”
“I hadn't seen you,” he says. “You were a child. I had no right to request to see you.”
“I know.”
His eyes lift from my wrist and hit my gaze with such brutal intensity I hold my breath. “No one touched you after Rome became king, and I had access to you.”
“It was too late.”
“I will live with that regret forever.”
“What would you have done?” I say softly. Then glance over my shoulder, but we are alone in the purple-hued corridor. Still, it’s not private. “They'd have killed you for interfering. Then I wouldn’t have you at all.”
His jaw pulses, and I smile. The only hint of his inner creature lies in that subtle action of restraint.
“The lady who made this.” He touches the pendant with his thumb.
“Said it's citrine, which is rare. It’s mined on the mainland, but nearly all gone, pretty much useless as a resource. This stone doesn't have the properties to store or conduct electricity, but it’s pretty. It reminded me of you. You were so shiny as a child. Your sunshine is so bright.”
A tear slides down my cheek, so I quickly wipe it away with the back of my hand. “I love it, Kong. Thank you.” I lift to my tippytoes, cup his cheeks, and guide his head down so I can gently kiss his forehead.
He exhales hard. “My little queen.” There is so much emotion strained through those three words. “No matter how I behave in front of others, I'm yours, I'm here. I choose you. Remember that.”
I hiccup a sob. Kong… I choose you, too!
I’m yours. Can we ever be more than this?
Runaway together? Can we? You can Guard, Guide, and Die for me—keep your vows.
And I can bury mine under a pile of irrevocable love and freedom.
The questions and thoughts are fitful and raw.
I don’t voice any of them because he suddenly lifts his head.
He draws in a deep breath that inflates his broad chest. “Imagine, the Queen of The Cradle wearing a pendant made by a Common woman at a market.”
“I'm not a very good queen,” I quip, but not in a self-deprecating or attention-grabbing way, merely a fact.
“That is what they want you to believe.” He lowers his voice.
The thrill of this interaction, of being caught, sparks excitement and adrenaline within me.
“I know you believe you were the problem,” he says, “that you couldn't be what they wanted.
Did you think that maybe it's not because you're weak but because you're strong? No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t cut you to stone.”
I shudder at his words.
He steps backward, leaving me reeling, needing to focus. “We should move along, little queen. Face forward. Be proud. You know where I will be.”
“Yes.” I smile. “Right behind me.”
The Hall is busy, but I don’t mind. They watch me—as always—gazes that keenly analyse and consume, but I don’t feel their teeth today.
We explore Lord Bled’s Hall in a silence that is anything but quiet. Navigating various sitting rooms, art galleries, themed eateries, I lick my lips, sensing Kong closer now, making my heart pulse with arousal.
I imagine him dragging me into one of these rooms, pressing me against a wall and hiking up my skirting, using that enormous length to claim me once and for all... Would he be rough and desperate or slow and consuming?
We turn a corner, met by huge, heavy double doors. I glance at a small sign: History of a Church Gallery.
This is a monument, not a real, active place of worship.
It is a museum. I’ve been in a real church before when we were traveling between towers and the Redwind came in hard.
We had to seek sanctuary at an old abbey on the Red Decline.
We were scared for our lives, so I didn’t absorb its beauty and history.
Kong pushes a heavy door open for me, so I walk slowly inside before he closes it, sealing us in privacy.
The church is quiet, my soul stretching out with confidence. The room is cool and still. Every breath of air is mixed with the scent of wood, old and new, and somehow the notes are distinct enough for me to know this.
My eyes are drawn upward to the soaring ceiling, grids of beams, intricate carvings of men, women, and creatures. They all come together here. It feels peaceful.
I approach a stand at the front, a platform of sorts. On top, there is a counter with a book. The bible. I’ve read it from front to back once when I was very young. Only once, it wasn’t an easy read. Underneath it, I see a sheet with vows.
Wedding vows.
My eyes lift to watch Kong sit in the front row. Leaning forward on his knees with his chin resting on his clasped hands, he stares at me above them. His eyes direct and deep with meaning. Why does this feel so intimate? When this first-light he was licking me between my thighs, yet… this feels…
My body hums with desire. Not merely a desire for his warm body or dark kiss.
A desire that resides deep within me. A desire for him—for us.
We have only been physical for a few days, but he’s been my favourite person for over a decade.
Every place is cold, every moment is lonely, until he is with me.
I think… I think I might love him, though I don’t truly understand that word—love.
I don’t think it’s propaganda. It’s not a construct to divide the collective.
It’s the sincerest, most authentic feeling I’ve ever experienced.
And I don’t want to go back to The Estate, don’t want to play in that courtyard of broken dreams, or pretend the brick walls don’t echo with memories of my sorrow.
I want to be with him in a way that is forbidden, want to take him inside me, be his woman in every way.
Even if we die, if The Trade executes us for breaking our vows, forsaking our commitments to the Collective, I wouldn’t mind meeting him in The Crust. I know it would be better than living a lie.
I flip the sheet over.
Classic Christian Vows.
In the old-world, people used to take vows, just as we do today, but they took vows to each other, not to a king or queen or government.
To another person who loved them. It was a choice.
Imagine that, only committing to one other being.
Not a collective. Marriage must have been wonderful.
It is not something we do anymore—it’s messy and selfish and doesn’t consider collective needs.
I read the sheet.
“I, Bride…” I clear my throat, a little smile touching my lips.
It’s silly, but I do it anyway. “Tuscany of The Strait, take you, Kong the Unbreakable, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death.
This is my solemn vow." Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I peer up from the sheet.
“Come here and take vows to your queen.”
Kong rises to his feet without a second thought.
My breath catches when I see his expression, stoicism having crumbled, replaced with something deeply powerful and raw.
Real. He steps up to the little bench, towering over it, forcing my neck to arch to hold his dark, stunning gaze.
“I, Kong the Unbreakable,” he says, strong, true, without faltering.
Nervous, I almost giggle, but he doesn’t.
He doesn’t think this is funny at all. My smile thins—now, neither do I.
The world seems to narrow around us as he continues.
“Take you, Tuscany of The Strait, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow."
I want it to be real.