11. Cora
Cora
“You’re quiet this morning,” Alice comments the next morning as she and Blanche are readying me for breakfast with Prince Jasper.
I swallow harshly, feeling a flush rise up my chest. I cannot believe how taken I was last night. How unbelievably swept away I was. I don’t believe I spoke a word. Moans don’t count, do they?
“Am I?” I answer as if I’m unaware.
“You are, Princess,” she says. Her hair is pinned back and she wears her typical uniform. She doesn’t ask me about Isabel, although I’m sure she questions what happened. It would be an overstep if she did. “Did you sleep well? Is there something we could bring you?”
“I slept well,” I rush out the answer. It is partly true.
I did sleep well, after the man from the shadows came to my rooms. After I fought halfheartedly and he blindfolded me.
He fucked me on my back, with my legs pushed up to my chest, as if I was made for him to use that way.
“I am only preparing myself for this tea.”
“Marriage will not happen too soon; this is only tea,” Blanche jokes. “There will be time before your wedding night.” I pale and she apologizes, which forces a sense of guilt to come over me.
“Yes,” I agree, and fake a smile to cover the shame growing in my gut. “There will be time.” I allow a small huff of a laugh to leave me, and when she questions me about Isabel I ask her to send a letter of regret to her and request her forgiveness.
I need to make amends with her, just as I need to make amends with my life.
With a fitted gown and new leather shoes, I greet the prince with a polite smile. He’s charming and appears to notice me this morning more so than he did yesterday. When I blush, he smirks cockily, and that only makes the regret grow in the pit of my stomach.
“You look lovely, Princess,” he offers and pulls out my chair as I approach it, waving off a squire who typically is reserved for my father.
The nobleman positions himself in the corner of the room, hands clasped in front of him.
His dark trousers and cream linen blouse would seem far too simple for the keeper of the castle’s table service if it weren’t for his silk pocket square.
In contrast to the prince, who wears finely tailored trousers of cream linen and a slightly lighter shirt lined with hand embroidery of his house, it’s quite obvious who is royalty in this room.
Just as it’s obvious that my father sent his trusted squire to watch this encounter and likely report back to him.
With a concealed sigh, I take my seat and thank both gentlemen for their presence.
I do my best to make conversation with Prince Jasper over breakfast, though my sense of shame grows. I tell him about riding to the pavilion and about the stream. He tells me that he, too, enjoys the stables, and would rather ride than hunt.
When I drop the spoon a bit too hard against the shell of my egg, it does not seem to be going much better than the other meetings I’ve had.
My nerves get the better of me throughout the meal and I hardly have an appetite.
Judging by the prince’s glance to my plate throughout breakfast, he certainly notices.
“Would you care for a walk in the garden, Princess?” he asks, when it is clear that neither of us will be eating any more. Although I’ve hardly touched my plate.
I’m just as quick as I am polite with my answer. “Yes, of course.”
With our squire following a respectful distance behind, we go out to the garden. He’ll serve as our chaperone throughout the visit, it appears.
Although it is his job to watch us, it makes my shame even hotter.
I’m ashamed to be seen with anyone else now that I have a secret lover, and I’m even more ashamed to find myself conflicted about it.
I enjoy the sex. It leaves me satisfied, and I do not see why I should get married when I could simply continue to see the man when I’m in need.
However, I am sure my father, Isabel, Alice, and all others would disagree. As if I could ever confide in them the truth of what has happened.
Still I try to be polite. I attempt to be respectful, even if this courtship is not at all what I desire.
It’s no surprise that I cannot think of a single thing to say as we walk into the gardens and observe the flowers in bloom.
Every option that comes to mind seems false.
I do not want to talk about riding. I do not want to talk about the prince’s lands.
I do not want to talk about the advantages of our alliance, whatever they may be.
I do not even think there is a pressing advantage. If there was, surely my father would have mentioned it before now.
Beside me, Prince Jasper lets out an irritated sigh. “What is it about me?”
“Hmm?” I say, shocked by the bold question. Pretending as if I do not know what he means is all I can think to do.
“What about me is not what you wish for in a partner?”
My stomach sinks. Is it so obvious? How horrid of me.
When did I become so self-absorbed? I open my mouth to answer and can think of nothing to say.
Nothing that would be appropriate for this chaperoned stroll, anyway.
Nothing that would be appropriate for a prince who has come to negotiate a marriage proposal.
We stop on the cobblestone path and Prince Jasper takes my hand from his elbow and places it in his. It is a courteous hold, and no one could find fault with it. His flesh is hot on mine and his beautiful gaze captures me as he waits for an answer.
But none comes and he looks away in disappointment before setting his lips into a thin line. “Very well,” he says softly and we continue in silence. Although he’s still polite and doesn’t release my hand. Instead he rubs soothing circles on the back of my knuckles, leading me on the path.
We turn right and I recognize it from the ball. It is the path that the lone couple took, or at least it is close by. This section is bounded by stone walls on either side. They seemed to appear out of the hedges, but they are the beginnings of a courtyard with a fountain at its center.
Prince Jasper pauses in the middle of the path as if he has just remembered something he meant to do.
“I have decided I will take tea in the garden,” he calls to the squire, who is a respectful distance behind us. “Would you gather cups and a fresh pot of water so we may enjoy it in the courtyard?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” he says. He bows and disappears from sight.
The moment he’s gone, Prince Jasper presses me against the stone wall behind me.
My back to the hard wall. A shocked gasp escapes from my mouth, followed by a second as he grips both my wrists in one hand and pushes them above my head.
My heart races as his gaze becomes hot with need.
I feel as exposed as I did in the bedroom last night.
My chest heaves with arousal and surprise.
Prince Jasper leans his face close to mine, his eyes dark. “Perhaps you prefer this? Less of a gentleman?”
“I—”
“If it’s what you want…don’t lie to me, Princess.”
“I do not… I do not know—”
He leans in even closer. “Your body tells the truth for you, Princess. I can offer you whatever it is you ache for,” he murmurs, his lips to the shell of my ear. His grip on my wrist loosens slightly.
For a moment, my heart lurches. Does he know? Is he? No…he can’t be. For he’s clean shaven as he was yesterday. And I’ve felt the rough touch of stubble with the kiss of my lover.
Before I can think too much, he leans in closer, and closer, so close I can feel his breath against my lips.
But he tilts his head at the last moment and kisses my neck.
He leaves opened mouthed kisses there, and I’ve never felt such desire in the light of day—his lips and his tongue, licking and sucking gently.
A soft moan spills from my lips and his groan of satisfaction makes me even hotter.
I squirm in his grip, kicking my feet. Somehow these kisses are making me as wet as his fingers.
As wet as his mouth. It is as if the nerves run straight from my neck to between my legs, and being outside in the garden—a place that is more in danger of discovery than my rooms—makes me feel wild with lust.
“You would like to be caught, wouldn’t you, Princess? You’d like your squire to see you getting ravished against the wall. You don’t need to tell me. I know you’re wet under your dress. That look in your eyes…I fucking love it.”
His filthy mouth surprises me, leaving me shocked.
I lean my head against the wall and let him kiss at my neck. I’m heady with want and I try not to think. The thoughts are far too much.
“If I bit you here, would you be able to hide it? I don’t think so. Not with skin like yours. You’d have to wear a scarf, or choose a high-necked gown. Do you even have one for this season? Would you hide in your rooms? No, I think you wouldn’t. I think you’d wear it out for everyone to see.”
“You can’t… My father—”
“Your father would see, too. He would see, and he would know you had no choice but to marry me. He would know who did this to you, and he would know you let me and loved it.”
My chest heaves with a wanton exhale. I can’t help it.
“You’d like worse, wouldn’t you, Princess?
You’d like to be caught bent over with your hands on the wall, your skirts up to your waist, my cock buried in your cunt.
If I made you come with my fingers, you wouldn’t be able to stop if someone saw.
You’d just have to finish like that. But perhaps you wouldn’t need my fingers. Perhaps you’d only need to be fucked.”
I let out another moan. Does he think I am begging him? I still can’t speak. Silent in his accusation. I do wish he’d take me. Fuck me against the stone wall and leave scratches against my bare skin. Claim me.
“Do you think the maidens would call the others? Do you think they would hide in the flowers and watch? How many pairs of eyes does it take to make you hot? I think it only takes one,” he whispers and rakes his teeth along my neck.