12. Cora
Cora
Shock has its grip on me more so than the afterglow of my orgasm.
Fifteen minutes ago—or was it ten?—I was being fucked up against the wall less than twenty feet from the shaded table where I sit with Prince Jasper, the tea service arranged between us as if this is completely normal.
My thighs still tremble, and I ache in a way that’s all too familiar now. And yet I politely smile as I stir sugar into my tea. It’s far too sweet, but my body is moving without thinking, far too aware that the squire is present although he keeps his gaze on the back wall.
I resist the urge to touch my hair. As soon as I came on Prince Jasper’s half-hard cock, he lowered me to my feet, pulled me away from the wall, and rearranged my skirts.
He brushed at my back, making sure there was no sign I had been held against the wall, and tucked a lock of my hair back behind my ear.
Then he swiped the corner of my mouth with his thumb.
He did up his own laces, then ran his hands through his hair, and did not look as if he’d licked and fucked a woman in the garden at all.
He’s handsome as ever and polished just as he was this morning for breakfast, too, sitting across from me at the table. It is a miracle that I am not sweating, or at least I am not sweating so much that beads run down my temples.
I feel as if I could be sweating that much. I’m overheated from the inside out and can hardly bear to sip my tea.
The first sip soothes my throat, though not my flushed face. It makes me feel slightly less unsteady. How can being fucked so well feel like such a dream the moment it is over? With the tea not aiding my state, I fan myself lightly with one laid out on the table.
With almost certainty, the squire is out of the range of hearing. He is, unless we use particularly loud voices.
What topics are we meant to discuss now that Prince Jasper has fucked me against the garden wall? I’m still mentally reeling from the fact that I have now slept with two men. I’ve no idea what my lover will think and yet again, I’m a mix of emotions. He hasn’t even told me his name.
More than that though, I fear what Prince Jasper might say. I fear who he might tell. The idea that I am in debt to him for his secrecy is something I’ve never prepared myself for.
Slowly, my heart adjusts to a normal beat and I try a sip of my tea again, finding it far too sweet.
Prince Jasper has one of the cucumber sandwiches, not seeming bothered at all. Should I be questioning my reality right now? Could it have been a dream or a trick of the heat?
The prince sips his tea, then casts a discreet glance at the squire.
“He’ll know something happened if you keep wearing that look on your face,” he murmurs. His lowered voice is the first sign that he acknowledges that anything did happen between us only a few minutes ago.
“What look?” I ask, matching his low tone.
“The look that says you’ve done something you shouldn’t have.”
I let out a short laugh. “I’ve done more than one thing I shouldn’t have.”
I don’t think I have carried it off as lightly as I wanted to, because Prince Jasper looks at me for a few beats, then concentrates on his tea.
My stomach drops slightly and a prick of nervousness runs over my skin.
Attempting to ignore it, I focus on schooling my expression to heed Jasper’s warning.
After a minute, he clears his throat. “I apologize for the things I said in…the heat of the moment, Princess, if that is not what you enjoy.”
I’m taken aback by his apology.
Shaking my head, I assure him, “It’s not necessary for you to apologize.”
There is another pause. I can feel his eyes on me. It is a very familiar sensation to one I’ve had before, but that means nothing. I am aware of people’s eyes on me, that’s all. I have been aware of them my entire life.
He peeks up at me with a heated look in his gaze. His words are barely heard but I hear them. “You loved that, didn’t you?”
I smile into my teacup and nod my agreement, then put it down and exchange it for a nibble. I need something to keep me from speaking for as long as possible.
“That wasn’t your first, was it?” Prince Jasper questions, his voice even lower, yet calm.
He does not lean toward me, and I appreciate the gesture.
If the servant looks over now, we will not appear to be discussing anything impolite, and I need that protection now.
My heart pounds at his question, and I whip my eyes up to his, keeping my back very straight.
I hold my breath as I give him a gentle shake of my head. I do not want the squire to see me denying anything. I wait for Prince Jasper’s face to change. This is the moment he will give himself away, if he is going to.
But his expression does not change to one of disgust or shock. He does not even look surprised. He merely nods at me, his face calm, and sips his tea.
“How many before me?” he questions, as if he is asking whether I prefer tea or ale.
I lower my hand so that it is hidden behind my teacup—there is no way the squire will see it—and place down one finger only long enough for him to see it.
“One?” he clarifies. I nod, and he nods back. “I won’t tell,” he says easily, and a soft smile graces his lips.
Prince Jasper does not say this as if he is teasing, or as if it is part of a bargain we are making. He simply says it as if it is a matter of fact, or perhaps a matter of honor, and he does not rush to say more. It makes me think he is a man of his word.
I do not know why, but it makes me freshly afraid and freshly defensive.
Shouldn’t he care? All my life, I have been told that princes will not look twice at me if I am tarnished before my wedding day.
They will judge me on this fact alone. I do not think I can bear it if he is only saying that he will not tell because he intends to be rid of me after today.
“Do you still wish to see me now?” I ask, my fear and hurt coming out in my tone. It is far easier to believe that Prince Jasper will leave, knowing what he knows of me, than that he will stay.
His brow raises in surprise and then his eyes soften. “If you’ll have me.”
It takes me off guard. He says this just as he said that he wouldn’t tell. As if it is not something to be questioned. As if the answer was obvious to him before I asked the question. My fingers shake around my teacup, and I put it down carefully before gathering myself to speak.
“Why do you care for my company?” I ask. It’s a question that I might have asked any of the other suitors, if I had been interested in the answer. I was, I suppose, but other questions seemed more urgent, such as why I was pretending to consider their offers when I’d already had a man in my bed.
“I, too, need a companion,” Prince Jasper begins. “And together, I think we make sense for what our people need.”
It stings, and at first I do not know why.
I cover the pain with a nod. It is true that he needs a companion, or he wouldn’t be here.
And perhaps we do make a good match for the people.
I only wish I had appealed to him in some way.
I only wish I had genuinely tried. I have not been kind to him or given him much of a chance.
“And,” he continues, making me snap my eyes up to his once again.
“You’re beautiful, and witty, and you’re making me chase.
” He narrows his eyes. “I do enjoy the chase I think. Although it would be kind of you not to do so, so publicly next time. It also appears we have a similar taste in other things that are important. If you’d like to make me chase you, I would prefer it in private,” he adds.
His brow quirks as he bites into a small plum, and I swear the act is sinful.
My face flushes, and I cannot help but smile at his serious expression.
I’m beginning to realize that he’s being a bit playful with me, though I certainly haven’t done anything to make him think I deserve it.
Aside from when he took me against the garden wall, I’ve been irritable and aloof and I must have seemed as if I was so disinterested that I could not think of a single thing to say.
It takes me another minute, but finally I have the words.
“Thank you,” I tell Prince Jasper.
He furrows his brow. “For making you come on my cock against the wall?”
I had finally decided to take a sip of my tea, and I nearly choke on it. That catches the squire’s attention but with Jasper feigning aid to my misstep, he merely watches and doesn’t approach. Politely as I can, I dab the corners of my lips with my napkin, then dab the corners of my eyes as well.
Following all that, I must wave to the squire, who has begun to watch me concernedly.
“I meant,” I say, sounding breathless from having coughed around my tea. “Thank you for calling me beautiful.”
Prince Jasper looks sincerely confused. “Surely, Princess, you know that you are beautiful.”
“I’m often…I’ve often been found lacking in comparison to my mother’s beauty.”
The corners of his lips turn down at my admission, and I realize perhaps I should have kept that insecurity private.
His concern grows, and I realize that he is really quite as handsome as he is kind.
I would not mind looking at his face every day to learn the expressions that cross it and what each of them means.
I am nearly as curious about Prince Jasper at this moment as I am about the man in the shadows.
I close my eyes at the thought and with even greater misfortune, Jasper asks me, “When did she pass?”
“About three years ago,” I answer. “It was just before I turned sixteen. My birthday that year was…not a happy affair.”
“Ah,” he says. “I am truly sorry to hear that, Princess. It must be a difficult time each year.”
“It is,” I confess, my voice tight. “I miss her very much around my birthday. She was the one who loved parties. I think my father sometimes became exasperated with her, because she never wanted a ball to end. She wanted people to stay forever. I don’t think she would have minded if the castle was always full of merriment.
” My lips turn up into a smile at her memory.
I wish she was here. “I miss her dearly.”
“My mother was like that, too, in her younger days.”
“Has she…passed?”
“No,” he says, a shadow in his eyes. “No, she is in good health, or so the doctors say. Perhaps a bit younger than your father. But she changed after the war.”
The war Prince Jasper is referring to did not touch my kingdom.
It was just after my mother passed. It was between a number of lands nearer to the coast, and I recall my father spending many nights awake, fretting over whether our kingdom was prepared if the war ventured to our border.
It is a delicate balance, between all the lands, and it was a heavy decision, because the northernmost tip of our lands just barely makes contact with Prince Jasper’s kingdom.
“Changed?” I ask. “Is she not well then?”
“She is well in body,” Prince Jasper tells me.
“But I think there are wounds in her heart that are still unhealed. My brother was injured, although he is better now. My father has taken her to one of our more private estates in hopes that she will regain some of her former spirit. Do not worry, Princess. I meet with him often, and the kingdom is stable, and a joining of our lands will only make it more so.”
“I will not worry,” I promise him. Not about the kingdom’s political alliances, at least. “But tell me, Prince Jasper. Do you still reside in the castle where you were raised? It is by the sea, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he says. “Even more than riding, I prefer to be on the water. There are several bays that make for pleasant sailing, or rowing, if one prefers.”
“I am not sure which I might prefer,” I admit. “I have not spent much time on the water.”
“You may have a chance yet,” he says and smiles.