Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Tuscany
I’m exhausted and emotionally overwhelmed by the time last-light falls like a blanket of shadows over The Cradle.
I ate lunch at one of the eateries. The Trade Chef let out a sob of joy when I moaned while eating one of her brownies.
Apparently, my inclination toward sweets is well known.
It was a fantastic brownie—moist and sweet, with a bitter hint to show it was made with real chocolate—but it was the way Kong mouthed, “Good girl,” when I swallowed that made me moan.
We approach my door, and I wonder how we can make this work. When we go back to The Estate, Guards will be watching us, spies will be at every corner.
What we have is not simply a queen demanding pleasure from her Guard.
It will not stop, and I don’t want it to end.
We are plummeting into dangerous rapids, sure to consume us with emotion.
How can we not? We just took silly, make-believe vows to one another, and I want them to be real.
He has always been—mine. Since I was ten. He is mine, and I am his.
I don’t know what to do about this, when he’s sworn to my brother. Despite what I do, where I go, he will eventually return to my brother, to his duties, keeping the peace, fighting the invaders from the mainland, detaining raiders— Wait. Kong never leaves Rome’s side. Never.
Oh.
Stupidity and realisation crash down on me like a bucket of ice. Kong would know. He would know everything. I didn’t think…
No, he couldn’t. I can’t imagine my Kong being privy to these dealings—to stealing orphans or organising raids on peaceful Common Communities, but… He would have been there for every interaction. Before we leave the Lower-tower, I need to speak with him. Can I trust him with this?
Will he let me go?
Not now…
Don’t ruin this day.
“Little queen.”
I realise I’m frozen by my door, my hand on the handle. Turning to face him, I peer up at the most stunning dark eyes, fanned with long lashes. “Will you take the secret door tonight? Hold me?” I whisper.
“Not tonight, little queen.”
My heart gutters. “Why not?”
He straightens and takes a step backward. “I need to be outside your door tonight where I belong.”
No, I don’t want to go back to that. To him outside, talking to me through a wall, staring at me from a distance, indifferent and stoic.
What did I do? Was it the wedding vows? I thought that was cute, but maybe he thought it was weird or childish.
It meant nothing. No, no, no. Emotions come on like a wildfire, spreading through me, untampered by rational thought.
Even as I wrangle them in my mind, the scars of abandonment split open.
“Breathe, little queen.”
“But why?” I clench my teeth at what feels like rejection.
His throat rolls as he stares down the corridor, both ways, setting my nervous system on fire. He’s cautious—too cautious. Why? What has changed?
Returning his attention to me, he brushes my wrist, thumb stroking the citrine pendant, gaze unwavering and mine.
“Tonight I have to be at your door.” His voice lowers, deepens.
“When you look up from your bed, remember how close I am. I’m right there.
On the other side of that door. It has to be this way tonight.
I choose you, little queen. I am not abandoning you. Go inside and rest.”