24. LAYLA
Twenty Four
LAYLA
The northern advisors hate me. I know they do. They don’t say it, they’re too polite, too trained in courtly manners, but I see it in the way they look at me. The southern queen. The enemy. The woman who seduced their king into peace.
As if I seduced anyone. Soren practically broke down my door.
Today, three of them, Lord Bergen, Lady Freya, and some ancient fossil named Lord Magnus, have requested an audience. Soren is in the training yard, so they corner me in the library instead.
“Your Majesty,” Lord Bergen begins, his voice oily. “We have concerns about the… influence you’re exerting over King Soren.”
I look up from my book. “Influence?”
“The peace treaty was one thing. But the marriage… the pregnancy… some feel you’ve… compromised the king’s judgment.”
I close the book slowly. “Compromised his judgment.”
“The northern houses are unsettled. They feel their king has become… distracted.”
“Distracted.” I stand, my hand on my belly. “You mean happy? You mean in love? You mean not starting wars that get their sons killed?”
Lord Bergen’s face tightens. “Your Majesty…”
“Let me make something clear.” My voice is low, controlled, but every word is a blade.
“I didn’t seduce your king. I didn’t trick him.
I signed a contract to end a war that was bleeding both our kingdoms dry.
I married him because it was my duty. I fell in love with him because he’s the best man I’ve ever known.
And if you have a problem with that, you can take it up with him. But I wouldn’t recommend it.”
The door slams open. Soren stands there, chest heaving, eyes blazing. He’s in his training gear, sweat dripping down his carved chest, a sword in his hand.
“I heard every word,” he growls, his voice carrying that scary tone that makes even old men tremble. “And I want to make something clear to all of you.”
He crosses the room in three strides and stands next to me, his arm wrapping around my waist, his hand splayed possessively over my belly.
“This woman is my wife. My queen. The mother of my heir. She is the reason this kingdom is at peace. She is the reason I wake up smiling. She is the reason I give a fuck about any of you. And if you ever disrespect her again, if you ever look at her with anything less than absolute reverence, I will strip you of your titles, your lands, and your heads. In that order.”
The advisors pale. Lord Magnus actually looks like he might faint.
“Do I make myself clear?” Soren snarls.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” they chorus, bowing so low they practically touch the floor.
“Get out.”
They scramble. The door closes. Soren turns to me, his expression softening instantly.
“You okay?”
“I was handling it.”
“I know you were.” He cups my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. “But I wanted them to hear it from me. I wanted them to know that I choose you. Every day. Over them. Over everything.”
I melt. I actually melt. “You big possessive brute.”
“Your big possessive brute.” He kisses me, soft and sweet. “Forever.”
Then he lifts me on the library table and fucks me until I forget my own name. Again.
Some things never change.