11. Princess Esemeray #3
Esemeray frowned, saddened to see it was no longer storming.
Breathing in the rich sweetness of the rose garden, she finally said, “Well, here we are, as requested…” She glowered at his hand around hers. “Now, remove your hand from me.” She desperately needed to scrub Peter’s filth from her skin. Or scorch it with a hot pan.
Peter blinked, looking around the garden, then dropped his grip from hers.
“Follow me.” The wind ruffled his golden hair, the strands dancing like wheat. “I don’t mean to be so harsh.” He slid his hands in his pockets, glancing at the rows of rose bushes.
She rolled her eyes and slowed her steps, attempting to gain distance between them. Peter turned toward her, his boots crunching along the stone.
Remaining aloof, she sniffed a random flower. “If you choose not to marry, I will be pleased with your decision.”
Peter laughed, his teeth sharp. “And throw the alliance away? My father would have my head.” Gravel crunched as Peter strode closer, whistling and pulling random petals from the roses.
She watched the pink flutter, scattering along the white stones. Her breath caught. “Don’t do that.”
Peter slid his hands back into his pockets and murmured, “My father promised me Elora. He promised me beauty beyond my wildest dreams. Then I end up with you?”
Her face blanched. “And what is wrong with me?”
Peter angled his head, his eyes fixed on her breasts as he laughed. “You can’t be serious. You have a mirror, don’t you?” He pointed to his hair. “Besides, I’m into blondes.”
Elora had been the beautiful one, the smart one. The true princess. Esemeray knew that. She knew she looked nothing like Elora, even if they were declared twins. They had always been two opposites of each other. One dark, one light. A curse and a blessing all wrapped in one.
Peter grinned. “And I do hope you won’t make a fuss when I bed another woman.”
Fuss? She’d be the one hauling him into some poor woman’s bed, as long as that meant he stayed out of hers.
Esemeray observed Peter’s slender body. “Good luck finding anyone who would bed you.” Her lips curved into a slight smirk.
“Hopefully, your bathing chambers are rather close. They may need to puke afterwards.”
Peter’s face turned white as ash. “You’re lucky I don’t hit women, but someone ought to slap you in the face.” He straightened, his fingers flexing around his suit. “Maybe your mother will do that for me.”
Asshole.
This was pointless. Their conversation was going nowhere. Esemeray shook her head. “You’re a waste of my time.” She scoffed, turning toward the castle. She needed to get away from him.
She didn’t get far, not as Peter’s hands wrapped around her stomach, fingers digging into her side. His breath was hot in her ear. “I said I wanted to show you something.”
“Get off of me!” She thrashed against his hold, attempting to shake herself free. With one hard thrust, she sent her foot flying backward.
He didn’t falter. “You missed, sweetie.” He chuckled, low and malicious. “You will share my bed with me, whether you like it or not. I will fuck you whenever I please.”
She winced.
And then she felt it.
His hot tongue licking the side of her neck, his clammy hand trailing down her leg, bunching her gown higher.
“Once you feel my cock, you will beg for me, Esemeray.” He moaned, nibbling on her ear.
The air thickened around her, and she couldn’t seem to breathe.
Couldn't bring herself to scream for help.
She threw her head back hard, colliding with what felt like cartilage.
His hands gripped harder. “You got my nose, bitch!” He grunted, pushing himself against her, as his hand slid toward her breast. Her watery eyes widened, and she froze in place, unable to move, unable to stop him.
“Get your hands off of her.” A low, grave voice sounded, rocks crunching beside her.
We were just playing a game, captain,” Peter said, voice cold. “I meant no harm.”
The pressure around her stomach eased as Peter released his grip. Knees buckling, Esemeray slammed to the rocks, trembling. She wrapped her arms around herself, tucking her chin to her chest, and stared at the gravel, waiting for the tremors in her heart to ease.
“If I were you, I’d get the hell out of my sight.” Captain Rutherford raised his voice in a way Esemeray had never heard before. “Be gone, boy!”
Gentle hands wrapped around her, hauling her upright. She blinked, meeting the captain’s worried gaze. His voice was a reassuring murmur, “Princess Esemeray, are you alright?”
“I-I th-think so…” Her voice was a shaky whisper, “Thank you.” She found herself scanning the garden for Peter, not entirely convinced he left. She adjusted her gown, dusting the sides. There he was, running far down the path, pinching his nose.
“Let’s get you to your room.” The captain tossed her a smile, his face warm with sympathy. For a moment, she felt terrible for how she had thought of Captain Rutherford. Guilt bloomed in her chest. Her face warmed, fingers curling inward.
She had been wrong about the captain.
He wasn’t so bad after all.