Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
N ovi let out a reluctant groan as Cedric threw open the curtains of the private apartment she shared with Prince Fallon. The heir to the throne was nursing a cup of tea, but more importantly, he was doing so without a shirt on, revealing every tense, hard, neglected muscle of his back, his chest, and his arms. The backdrop of a cold, grey, February sky did nothing to cool the heat Novi felt in response to the visual inventory of the father of her unborn child. Thick, wavy black hair brushed the top of his broad shoulders. Demonborn eyes burned with the black fire inherited from his ancient bloodline. He was a direct descendant of the first dark elves, a Sacred Son of Sinaryos, Admiral of the Royal Sinaryan Navy, and Keeper of the Chimeras. His Royal Highness Crown Prince Fallon Blackwood was the most powerful man in the kingdom.
He was also drop-dead gorgeous. Novi wanted him so badly. She needed him.
The trouble was that everyone else in Sinaryos needed him as well.
And judging by the itinerary Mauricio had read out loud only moments ago, their precious time alone was in danger of being reduced even more than it already was.
“Why do you have such an early meeting today? I thought you and I were entitled to have breakfast in bed,” she scolded before being pulled into a huge yawn.
“I believe breakfast was a euphemism for something else,” Fallon replied. He sat on the edge of their enormous bed, careful not to spill his tea while his other hand caressed her round belly. A little jolt of excitement tore through him at the sensation of movement inside Novi’s body. His daughter was awake. He couldn’t wait to meet her properly.
“We can still have breakfast in bed,” Novi insisted, and cast him a flirtatious look. Then she shifted against the pillows, letting the front of her sheer nightgown fall open just enough to reveal her swollen breasts. “I’m begging you.”
Fallon knew exactly what she wanted, and she wasn’t going to get it. He didn’t have to read her mind to know her thoughts were swimming with indulgent hunger. However, spreading soft, warm butter on hot, hard toast was the last thing on her mind. She reached a hand forward and ran it up Fallon’s thigh, forcing him to stifle a growl of frustration. Weeks had gone by without sexual release, and now she’d gone and teased him in a moment of weakness. A wave of desire washed over him, and he brushed her hand away before she could feel how fast his demon fire had awakened.
“You don’t understand what it feels like,” she whimpered, appearing on the edge of tears. “I’m so desperate that I wouldn’t even care if Cedric fastens pins to your jacket while you take me from behind.”
Fallon wasn’t often left speechless, but when it happened, it was usually because of something Novi had said.
“While I’m flattered at the level of trust you have in me, I must politely decline,” Cedric replied, having brought over Fallon’s freshly ironed shirt.
“Novi, we’ve already discussed this,” Fallon said with a weary sigh. Her desperation was calling to him like a siren song, luring him, tempting him. He stood up to put some distance between them. “You won’t be in this delicate condition much longer, and I refuse to engage in any activity that puts our daughter at risk of premature birth.”
“But the midwives all said it was okay for us to?—”
“Novi, she’ll be the first royal bastard born in a hundred years,” Fallon insisted, ignoring her pouting face. “I have so little peace of mind these days…and so little say in what goes on in my personal life. You will not change my mind on this issue…if it can even be considered an issue, given what I’m dealing with lately.”
He finished his tea and handed the cup to Cedric, trading it for the shirt. Novi watched with an attentive gaze as his nimble fingers found the small buttons and skillfully slipped them through the tight, snug holes. Everyone knew that heirs to the Blackwood throne went through extensive training on how to be incredible lovers, because it was thought this made it easier to secure the succession. Novi knew firsthand that it was true. Being with Fallon took sex to an entirely different dimension. It was like growing up in the dark, and then suddenly seeing colors so intense that she could taste them. It had taken a while to get pregnant, although it had been so much fun trying. But the days that followed were indescribable.
Once the pressure to conceive was gone and the reality of what they’d achieved had sunk in, the sex changed. It went from a mission to accomplish, to acarnal feast of pleasure that went on for hours. Breakfast in bed occasionally turned into lunch in bed, and in those private hours, no matter what was going on in the rest of the city or the kingdom, only the two of them mattered.
Now that Novi was days away from delivery, it felt like such a crime to have that virile, powerful man standing right there and giving her no more than a hug or a kiss. She wanted him to grab her by the hair and back her up until his cock was buried deep inside. She wanted to feel every thrust, feel his hands wander from her full belly to her full breasts, knowing that he was the reason she was in such a state.
She snatched a scone off the plate on the nightstand and took a huge bite. It was soft, sweet, and crumbled easily…the exact opposite of Fallon. It wasn’t what she really wanted, but it would have to do.
“Why couldn’t you be old and fat and bald?” she half-teased with her mouth full of pastry. A few crumbs fell out of her mouth and onto the bed. “Aren’t there spells you could cast on yourself to change your appearance?”
“There are spells like that,” Fallon mused with a faint smile. “The trouble is they’re forbidden.”
“Why?”
“They belong to the Kaos branch of magic. Can you imagine what would happen to the empire if we all had the ability to change into someone else?”
“Seems like something you could find a way around,” she countered. Fallon shook his head.
“Suppose I get trapped in an old, fat, bald man’s body for the rest of my days. Would you still want me?”
Novi raised a dark blond eyebrow.
“That depends. Would you still know how to do that fluttery-swirly thing with your tongue?”
“I would,” Fallon said with an arrogant, slightly smug expression. “And if you insist on saying inappropriate things in front of Cedric, I’m not going to do it ever again.”
“I’ll behave,” she conceded, and took another scone. “I just miss you. I miss us .” She cast a wistful gaze on the little round mountain rising up from her sheer nightgown. “I’m worried that you won’t have any time for me or her, whenever she decides to make her debut. We haven’t even settled on a name yet.”
“I thought you wanted to name her after your mother,” Fallon replied. His faithful valet was buzzing around him like a hummingbird, fastening medals and pins to his jacket.
“Don’t we need official approval from the Royal Council? They seem to have an opinion on everything else in our lives.”
Fallon shook his head.
“There’s no such requirement for the naming of royal bastards. As long as it’s a proper name, they have no opinion. Lucia sounds like a fine choice to me.”
“Do you really mean that?” Novi’s eyes began to water. It had been too many years since she’d heard her mother’s name spoken out loud. Memories of a small funeral returned with a vengeance, along with the pain of losing the only parent she’d ever known. Novi had been a teenager back then, still human, and had no idea that her mother was sick until it was too late for elven intervention. The funeral arrangements were hastily made by a few of the kitchen maids she worked with, and then Lucia Navarro was buried in the back of a tiny village cemetery and all but forgotten.
Now that her only child was about to become a mother herself, all those unexamined feelings and emotions came bubbling back up to the surface, spilling over in the form of tears down Novi’s cheeks. Would she be a good mother? Would she know what to do? How would she manage, if Fallon was already so busy?
What if Queen Laena tried to separate her from her baby or take control? What if the midwives insisted that they knew what was best, and took Lucia away from Novi? Fallon had assured her that this wouldn’t happen, but his power was not absolute. Even a Sacred Son of Sinaryos had to answer to a higher power, whether it be a Royal Council, a new parliament, or his own mother.
Novi started to cry even harder, and Fallon’s face clouded with concern.
“Shall I send for Callista?”
“Not yet.” Novi wiped her eyes and gave him a grateful smile. “I’m sure it’s just hormones. Yesterday I spilled my hot chocolate and when Cedric brought me another one, I couldn’t stop crying for almost an hour.”
“An hour ?” Fallon repeated as he turned to his manservant in disbelief.
“I was afraid I’d done something horribly wrong,” Cedric said with a gentle laugh.
“Nope. I was just very grateful to have someone like you in my life,” Novi sniffed.
Even though her tears were probably brought on by her overabundance of emotion, Fallon’s heart ached for her. She must’ve had very low standards to have such feelings about a servant who brought her a cup of hot chocolate. But then, she’d come from nothing. Whatever kindness or generosity had been extended to her, well, she’d made the most of it and always found a way to give back whatever she could. It was part of why he loved and adored her so much. All the more reason to wrap her in silk and feathers and shield her from the evils beyond the castle…as well as the evils within it.
Novi fanned her eyes with both hands in an exaggerated motion, yanking Fallon out of his tender, private thoughts.
“We have to change the subject before I start crying again,” she said, turning to him. “Tell me about your day. What’s on your agenda this morning? Are you going to meet with that Estellian guy and find out if his story is true?”
Fallon looked down at the heavily pregnant woman on the verge of tears. She was lying amidst more crumbs than he’d ever normally have allowed in his bed. But Novi was in such a fragile state. She was one bumpy carriage ride away from going into labor. Her emotions were running higher than at any point in her pregnancy, and if he was being honest with himself, so were his.
The need to keep her safe at any cost weighed on him every minute of every day. He’d fought too hard for too long to get to this moment, and there was no punishment severe enough for anyone who caused Novi harm. Watching her body change and grow from carrying his child had brought out the best in him, but it was dangerously close to revealing the absolute worst. If anyone hurt her or their infant daughter, death by chimera would be too merciful. It didn’t matter if it was physical harm or emotional. He wondered if Queen Laena would hold true to her agreement not to announce his engagement to Jennae until after the baby was born.
He also wondered about Marinossian’s motives, and wondered if it was foolish to hope that Dillon might actually be alive, or might actually come home. Was it insane to imagine that Dillon might somehow return in time to sweep Lady Jennae into one arm while relieving him of the burdensome crown with his other?
Probably.
Fallon knew that above all else, he needed more information. There were too many questions to make any kind of plans. With Novi due to give birth any day, why had an enemy from the Estellian Empire dared to come forward now? What did this lowly Kallo elf Talvi Marinossian really want from him? He’d claimed Dillon was still alive, and he’d mentioned a secret name that only Fallon and Tristan had ever used. While it was significant, it was still only one word.
One name.
A name that hadn’t been spoken out loud since Dillon’s last night at home.
There had been a grand feast that evening, followed by music and dancing in the Blackwood Court. Soldiers and sailors were convinced that the Battle for Veselle would be the event that finally won the war against the Estellian Empire. Their complete control of every natural portal to Earth would come to an end, and the Ellunian Empire would once again have access to the huge population of humans. The doorway from Prasad to Paris would be flung wide open, allowing the demonborn elves to travel back and forth with ease like they’d done in the past.
Centuries ago when it was still under their control, humans fled Earth in droves for the chance to live without poverty or disease. The N?kki, or demonborn as they preferred to call themselves, brought them through the portal into Erit?hti, promising them safety and security. All the dark elves asked for in return was that they work their fields, tend their livestock, and bear them a few children to help them build their population.
Novi had helped him play out that historical arrangement beautifully. The poor, sweet human had fled a life of toil and abuse, sought protection from him, agreed to have his child, and was rewarded by the gods for it with a demonborn life. A Daiyana…blessed by the mother of all demonborns, and named after her. Sacred One. A beacon of hope for the future. People would talk about Novi for centuries after she and Fallon were both dust. Until that moment came, he would protect her to the very best of his ability.
Fallon blinked, then stiffened as Cedric brushed a few stray pieces of lint from the blood red sash that cut across his uniform.
“I’ve agreed to meet with the Estellian. I haven’t committed to anything more than that.”
Novi perked up at his reply.
“Do you believe what he said? Do you really think he was in prison with your brother?”
“I know he was in the same place that our prisoners of war were brought to, but I don’t know this man…this Marinossian ,” Fallon said with a contemptuous growl. “Everyone always wants something from me, and I don’t know what this bastard wants. He’s committing treason against his empire by stepping foot on Ellunian soil, yet he hasn’t asked for land or a title or any political favors. Not even a single copper crown. To know a man’s motivation is to know everything about him, and I know nothing of this one.”
Novi couldn’t help smiling at Fallon’s restrained aggression. It was second-nature for him to suspect everyone around him of trying to manipulate or undermine him or his family or his vision for the kingdom. It made it next to impossible for him to see the goodness and kindness in others. He was lucky to have someone close to him who could see those qualities so easily.
“If Marinossian was in prison with Dillon like he claims, they might’ve become friends,” Novi reasoned. “He probably just wants to do the right thing and let you know he’s still alive.”
Fallon cast his lover a skeptical glance.
“My father has just fallen into another coma. Tristan was struck by the same affection and still hasn’t fully recovered enough to be out in public. The Estellians haven’t made a move against us in nearly a century, and the first royal bastard in as many years is about to be born any day now. Are you suggesting that the timing of Marinossian’s arrival is purely coincidence?”
Giving an innocent smile and a little shrug, Novi nodded her head.
“It’s entirely possible. Things seem to happen all at once, no matter if they’re good or bad.” She reached her hands up so he could help her wiggle out of bed. Once she was on her feet, Fallon slipped an arm around her back while caressing the belly between them.
“I know you’ll keep us safe,” Novi whispered once Cedric had left the room. “All I’m asking is for you to keep an open mind. You have so many wonderful ideas for the kingdom. Everyone knows that the last hundred years have been the best in recent Sinaryan history.” She ran her fingers across the different medals pinned to Fallon’s chest, each one of them representing a hard-won victory or honor. “The Royal Navy is stronger than it’s been since before the Battle for Veselle. You brought the kingdom back from the edge of bankruptcy, and poverty is nothing like it was in the olden days. If you weren’t obligated to do everything the Royal Council says, you’d have your freedom back. You could sleep as much as you wanted…marry who you wanted. You could spend your days however you wanted...either on the sea, or with me.”
With one protective hand still shielding his unborn daughter from unforeseen danger, Fallon gazed out the window at the ships of the Royal Fleet anchored just beyond the city walls. He hadn’t let himself dream one particular dream until this very moment, but here it was, carried in by the ocean waves and waiting outside the window along with the cold breeze. The dream was the taste of saltwater and the groan of a massive ship as she yielded to his commands. Charting new territory and traveling to distant lands. The camaraderie of his crew all working together.
And when he came home, Novi would be waiting for him with Lucia in her arms, and by the grace of the gods, another child on the way. He would tell his family all about his adventures at sea, then tuck Lucia into bed after dinner. He’d fill Novi again and again, giving her babies until their arms could hold no more children.
He would be the father that King Balerin never was.
His demonborn eyes drifted away from the ocean waves and settled on the golden-haired woman in his arms. Oh Novi… She was such a bright spark of light in a world smothered by darkness.
She tilted her chin upward and gazed into his wistful eyes.
“Fallon…if your brother’s alive…that would change everything.”
“I know.” He held her close and cradled her body gently against his own. “Believe me…I know.”