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Authors: Kate Hill

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One evening in late winter, his second in command, Leo,
suggested Hypatios join him for a couple of hours at a tavern they usually
frequented when in the capital city. It catered to wealthier men and the
wenches were prettier and cleaner than the ones at most other taverns in the city.
The prices were higher as well, but to discerning men, it was worth it.

Hypatios’s first impulse was to refuse to go. He preferred
to spend his nights strategizing. If he needed to relax, he imagined the day he
would reunite with Mira. He also thought of Cassandra often. He no longer
doubted that she had gone north of her own free will, but he couldn’t help
wondering why.

“It will be spring before you know it,” Leo said. “You
should enjoy yourself while you can, sir.”

“Fine. We’ll go to the tavern, but it’s not nearly as
interesting as it used to be,” Hypatios admitted.

“You won’t say that when you see Sirena. She’s as lovely as
ever.”

Hypatios had lain with Sirena in the past. She was one of
the most beautiful prostitutes in the city—so beautiful that the tavern owner
reserved her only for certain customers. Lovely and skilled, she was worth the
extra coins.

Hypatios was neither a fool nor conceited. He knew his
strengths and his weaknesses. With his scarred face, a woman who looked like Sirena
wouldn’t have spat on him were he not the Prince of Zaltana. Still it wasn’t
his face he’d paid her to kiss in the past. The woman sucked cock with a talent
that could cross a man’s eyes. There was a time when thinking about an hour
with Sirena would have him hard as a rock. Tonight he was only mildly
interested.

Leo was right, that maybe he needed some relaxation…some
stimulation.

It was a cold, clear night and the moon bathed the frozen
city in light. Hypatios, Leo and several other men high up in the king’s guard
rode to the tavern, ordered drinks and flirted with the serving maids.

A buxom red-haired woman carrying a black silk scarf and
wearing nothing but a belt of silver coins danced to drum and flute music. She
approached the table where Hypatios and his party sat and danced for them.
Barefoot, she swept behind each warrior, her perfumed scarf trailing over their
shoulders. While his companions enjoyed themselves, Hypatios gazed into the
foam floating on the top of his scarcely touched mug of ale.

The dancer paused beside him, her dark eyes questioning as
she caressed the silk scarf. He curled his lip into a slight snarl and shook
his head. The dancer moved on to Leo who welcomed her attention with a smile.

Sirena, lovely as ever with her golden hair, blue eyes and
plump breasts spilling over the top of her pale-pink gown, spent the evening at
Hypatios’s side. When she took his hand and suggested they go to her room, he
didn’t refuse.

No sooner had she closed the door than she sank to her knees
and unfastened his codpiece. Hypatios didn’t touch her, but stood, his legs
braced apart while she fondled him with skilled hands.

He closed his eyes, thinking about Mira. He imagined her hands
on him, her lips hovering over his cock. Yet it wasn’t her fresh scent that
teased his nose, but the heavy aroma of Sirena’s perfume.

Before she took his cock in her mouth, he lightly grasped
her hair to hold her back.

“Enough,” Hypatios said.

Her blue eyes widened a bit. “But we’ve scarcely started.
Have I done something wrong?”

Stepping away from her, he fixed his trousers. “It’s not
you.”

He took several gold coins from his waist pouch and placed
them in her hand. “For your time.”

A flirty smile tugged at Sirena’s painted lips. “Surely I
can do more to earn this. Would you like to lie down instead? You look as if
you could use a massage.”

Hypatios didn’t reply, but opened the door and strode out.

As he left the tavern, Leo called to him, but Hypatios waved
off his old companion.

Outside, he approached Notus who snorted.

That didn’t take long.

“Long enough,” Hypatios said to the stallion and turned him
back toward the palace.

* * * * *

 

Delia usually looked forward to spring. She loved taking
walks in the warm weather, gardening and swimming. At the convent, she and
Katerina enjoyed outdoor activities—though Katerina’s pleasures included
meeting young men from the nearby village. Lucky for her she had never been
caught or the sisters would have barred her bedroom window.

Delia loved the aroma of spring—fresh air and newly budded
flowers. Yet this year she dreaded the spring thaw. As the snow melted, so did
her dream that the war with Zaltana had magically ended and Areus would not
ride off to battle again.

All too soon, word reached Areus that more Zaltanian troops
were again moving toward the border of Lortia and Fernhill.

On a cool spring night after dinner in the great hall, they
had just entered his chamber when he informed her that he would be leaving with
his army.

Delia stood by the window in her shift, brushing her hair. She
paused and turned to him.

“How soon?”

“We’re riding out at the end of the week.”

“A week? Areus, you didn’t know before now that you’d be
leaving?”

“We were undecided, but I believe it’s best to go now.
Hypatios will be eager for battle.”

“It seems he’s not the only one.”

“I’m not eager for battle, Delia, but to get this over
with.”

“Why does there have to be a war?”

“Pardon?”

“Neither you nor Hippolytos have even tried to discuss terms
of peace.”

“Peace? There is no peace with him. He’s a tyrant and a rapist.
He needs to die, he and his black-hearted son. Hypatios knows he wounded me.
Everyone knows. The only way I can save us, the only way I can prove that I
deserve to lead Lortia and the united armies of the north, is for me to defeat Hypatios
in battle.”

Delia stared at him. Upon hearing those words, any hope of
reasoning with him died.

“And what about the promise to your mother?” she asked
softly.

His brow furrowed. “What promise?”

“You told her you would try to spare his life.”

He sighed. “Delia, you know that—”

“I know that no matter what you said, you must do what you
must to survive. Hypatios won’t be trying to spare you.”

He nodded slowly and stepped closer to touch her cheek. “You
at least understand that.”

“I understand more than you think.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I don’t think this is only about protecting Lortia
anymore. It’s a matter of pride. I know you’ve been training with that wretched
man Orrin and his snakes.”

Areus’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that?”

“You think I didn’t notice the bites and bruises? There’s
only one place in Lortia that a man could get snakebites in the dead of winter.
I asked Seth if he’d treated you for snakebites.”

“Seth again. That man is a menace. I’ll have to formally
reprimand him for speaking of confidential matters.”

“Confidential? I was right there when your mother told you
that the snake is Hypatios’s one weakness. It doesn’t take a seer to know that
you will do everything in your power to learn how to destroy the creature. You’re
willing, no, you’re
eager
to meet that monster—and I mean Hypatios, not the
snake—in battle again, to risk
everything
because your last fight ended
in a draw and you feel emasculated because of it.”

Fury crossed Areus’s face. He stepped away to pace the room.
“This is not about me. It’s about Lortia. Look at what’s happening, Delia.
Zaltana is coming back. They want to conquer us. I will not allow it.”

“Can’t you at least try to find another way?”

“There is no other way.”

She placed her brush aside and approached him. Taking his
face in her hands, she held his gaze, begging. “Areus, think about this before
you go charging off to meet him again. He nearly killed you. You can’t—”

“Delia, if I had to back down every time someone nearly
killed me, I’d have lost Lortia ages ago. This is what I do. Believe me there
are times when I wish you and I could be like everyone else, but we can’t.”

“I know. You’re the king,” she said bitterly.

Sometimes she hated his position, his duty and his
willingness to perform it, though it might mean his death.

“And you’re the queen,” he said, removing her hands from his
face. “You need to act like it.”

“And for once in your life you need to think about
us
.”

“That’s a luxury we can’t afford. Delia, I care for you, but
I have a duty to Lortia and so do you. I need to know I can depend on you to—”

“To watch you ride off to what might be your death and
pretend I don’t care? I’m sorry, Areus, but I can’t do it. I was reared in a
convent. I wasn’t groomed for leadership as you were.”

“You’re an intelligent woman, Delia. You can learn.”

She stared at him, torn between the urge to laugh and the
desire to slap his handsome face. How could he be so narrow-minded? How could
he ignore his own emotions, pretend they didn’t exist?

“You married the wrong woman, Areus. I’m not what you want.”

“Don’t do this to me. Not now.” He glared. “I can’t focus on
you and Lortia.”

“Don’t even think about me. Not that I have to tell you
that. All you can think about is battle, revenge and pride.”

“That’s not true. You’re being unfair.”

“I’m being unfair?” She glared. “I was forced into a
marriage, expected to breed inside a year—and no doubt you consider my
miscarriage another flaw. It seems I truly am not what you want in a queen.”

“You said that. I didn’t.”

Wasn’t he at least going to deny it?

“You know I don’t blame you for losing the baby. You know I
care for you. What do you think will happen if Zaltana takes over? Hippolytos
already raped my mother. What do you think he and Hypatios will do to you?”

She curled her lip and folded her arms across her chest.
“Don’t pretend you’re doing this for me.”

“I’m doing it for all of Lortia and the remaining free
kingdoms in the north. You think I wouldn’t prefer to stay here, fat and happy,
making love to you every night? That’s not reality. Grow up, Delia. I need a
woman who’s fit to be queen, one who understands sacrifice and who is willing
to place her own needs aside for our people.”

His words wounded her deeply. She did care about the people,
but she had also grown to love him. She didn’t see how another battle tearing
apart the countryside was the best and only option. Areus, the warrior king,
wouldn’t even consider an alternative.

Yet perhaps he was right. They lived in a dangerous world
with the most brutal conquerors right on their border. Maybe she wasn’t fit to
be queen of Lortia after all.

“Delia.” He stepped toward her and reached out to touch her
cheek, but she avoided him.

“Maybe you’re right,” she said. “This marriage was a
disaster from the first. You wanted me so you could control my father’s army. I
didn’t want you at all.”

“I don’t want to fight with you, not when our time together
is so short. Come to bed. We can discuss it more tomorrow.”

“I think we’ve discussed everything already. Good night,
Your Highness.” She strode to the door that adjoined their chambers and stepped
through it.

Delia climbed into her bed and lay beneath the blankets,
though it was a long time before she slept. She couldn’t stop thinking about
Areus and his words. His accusations and his disappointment filled her head.

She longed to slip back into his chamber and climb into his bed,
to make up with him as they had in the past. Yet this time she couldn’t. This
time he had gone too far. His words had cut too deep because they were true.
Though she believed that in his way, he cared about her, she wasn’t what he
desired in a queen.

He had what he wanted—a united northern army.

She had miscarried his heir and with him going off to war
for only the Spirit knew how long, there was no way she would deliver one
within a year of their marriage.

Delia had to decide if she should stay and possibly face a
lifetime of turmoil with Areus or to be cast away by him. Neither option
appealed to her.

She had once vowed that she would be mistress of her own
fate, that she would not cower to her husband or be controlled by him. For a
time she had thought that maybe she and Areus had a chance for happiness, but
such joy was reserved for others, not for the King and Queen of Lortia.

Chapter Nineteen

 

Areus awoke before dawn. While he washed and dressed, he
listened intently for any sound from Delia’s room to indicate that she was
awake. He heard none.

Though their angry words from the night before disturbed
him, he felt it wasn’t right to wake her so early to ease his own mind. He went
to break his fast with his men before going to the field to begin a day of
training and conferences with his generals and advisors.

He didn’t see Delia again until that evening at dinner. They
ate side by side at the head table in the great hall. She spoke little,
responding to his attempts at conversation with short though polite replies. He
knew she still seethed over their argument.

He wished he could apologize, but he didn’t want to lie. Though
he might have found a gentler way to express his expectations of her, he had
meant what he’d said. Yes, he wanted to put their relationship above everything
else in his life, but he was the king and his first responsibility was to Lortia.
His love for her couldn’t overshadow his duty, no matter how much he wanted it
to, nor could her feelings for him stand in the way of what was best for Lortia.

Delia was a strong, intelligent woman. He had no doubt that
once she calmed herself and thought about their conversation, she would not
only understand, but agree. He knew she cared about the people of Lortia and
while she might fear for his life in battle, she also knew he had to fight to
keep their kingdom free.

Still, her indifference to him, the way she didn’t even meet
his gaze once during the meal, saddened him. In just a few short days, he would
be gone again. He didn’t want them to part like this. Yet if she wanted to hold
a childish grudge, he couldn’t give in to her. How else would she know that he
was serious about what it meant for her to be his queen?

Eventually she would come to him. She had to. Surely she didn’t
want to part on angry terms as well.

After dinner she excused herself, bidding him good night.

In his own chamber he lay awake for hours, listening for the
lock to turn on her side of the door, waiting for her to climb into his bed,
but it didn’t happen. Nor did it happen on the next night or the next.

Finally it was the night before he would ride to battle.

As usual, they sat side by side at dinner in the great hall.

Despite the physical hardships that he would soon face,
Areus ate little. His appetite had abandoned him, replaced by an odd sensation
in the pit of his stomach that had to do with leaving with Delia still cold and
angry.

“If you’ll excuse me, sir, I’m going to retire for the
night,” Delia said. For the first time in nearly a week, she lifted her gaze to
his.

All the emotions he felt—sadness, longing and guilt—were
reflected in her eyes.

“Go to my chamber,” he said softly.

She nodded. “As you wish.”

“I do wish it.”

Delia rose and left the table.

Areus remained for a short time, then he headed for his
chamber, his heart pounding wildly.

By the Spirit, man, it’s not as if you’re going to
battle. You’re simply going to your wife.

And tomorrow he would be leaving her again.

Out of respect for his wife, he tapped on his chamber door
and a moment later Echo opened it. She curtsied to Areus and left in silence.

Areus stepped into the chamber. The fire in the hearth
bathed the room in flickering light. The curtain over the window shimmied in
the evening breeze.

His gaze riveted to Delia who stood by the night table,
holding a brush. Her long, brown hair hung down her back and over her shoulders
in soft waves. She wore only a shift, the outline of her breasts and thighs
visible beneath the thin fabric.

Gazing at him with her large hazel eyes, she smiled
tentatively.

“Delia,” he said in a husky voice as he approached her.

She placed her brush aside and melted into his open arms.

For a long moment they stood, holding each other. Her cheek
rested against his chest, so he didn’t doubt she felt his pounding heart.

“I’ve missed you,” she murmured, pressing her face harder
against him.

Cupping the back of her head, he closed his eyes and kissed
her hair. “I’ve missed you too. I wish I didn’t have to go, but I have no
choice.”

“I understand.”

He held her at arm’s length so he could gaze into her eyes.
“Let’s not talk about it or anything that will ruin this night.”

She nodded slightly and he covered her mouth in a passionate
kiss.

Delia’s arms slid around his neck and she clung to him
tightly. Areus held her close, one arm wrapped around her waist. He caressed
her back, then her buttocks, gently kneading and squeezing.

“Areus,” she breathed as he nuzzled her neck.

Groaning, he hugged her tighter and kissed her again. He
loved her taste, her scent and the feel of her small body against his—so soft
yet strong.

Her hands seemed to be everywhere at once—touching his face,
caressing his back, and cupping the front of his trousers. Her fingertips
teased him through the fabric until he could scarcely wait to feel her flesh on
his.

Stepping back, he pushed down his trousers and kicked them
off along with his boots. He yanked off his socks, then quickly removed his
shirt.

Delia watched him, her eyes reflecting his own hunger. No
sooner had he dropped his shirt on a nearby chair than she stepped toward him
to caress his chest and trail her fingertips over his stomach, down to his cock.
She curled her fist around it and stroked slowly, intermittently sweeping her
thumb over the head and along the underside.

His heart raced both from physical excitement and the joy of
being with her like this again. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her slowly,
tenderly. Her tongue danced with his and she moaned, the aroused sound sending
another thrill coursing through him.

Areus raised her shift and she lifted her arms so he could
pull it off. He drew her naked body close to his, enjoying the sensation of flesh
against flesh, her soft breasts pressed to his chest. He stroked her shoulders
and back, then kissed her again.

Standing on tiptoe, Delia wove her fingers through his hair,
then tugged his face even closer, kissing him harder.

“I want you so much, Areus,” she whispered against his lips.
“Please take me. Fuck me. Show me I’m yours.”

“Oh Delia,” he murmured, gazing into her beautiful eyes.
They were so full of emotion, so full of love that he knew she had forgiven him
for their argument. She still cared for him, despite how she had ignored him
all week. He felt as if the heaviest chainmail in the world had been lifted
from him. Tomorrow, when he rode to battle, he would do so without such a heavy
heart.

He kissed her from shoulder to shoulder, then lifted her
breasts and ran his tongue from nipple to nipple.

Delia quivered and moaned, stroking his hair.

Capturing one nipple between his teeth, he nibbled it
gently, then sucked it, flicking his tongue over it while he caressed her other
breast.

After nibbling and sucking both nipples, he trailed his
tongue down her belly while sinking to his knees. He closed his eyes and rested
his cheek against her stomach for a moment, his fingertips trailing up and down
the backs of her legs.

Then he grasped her firm ass and covered her clit with his
mouth. He loved the tickle of her pubic hair against his face, her musky scent
and the sensation of her soft flesh against his tongue. He explored the folds
and crevices, imprinting on his mind the texture of her skin and the way she
tightened her fingers in his hair when he licked and sucked her most sensitive
places.

Her breathing quickened and she moaned, trembling as she
neared her peak.

Areus stood before she came and guided her to the bed. He
climbed on with her and lifted her legs over his shoulders. Grasping her
bottom, he lifted it higher and thrust his tongue into her damp pussy before
returning to her clit. He lapped it, then relentlessly flicked the tip of his
tongue over it.

“Oh Areus,” she panted, her breathing ragged. She trembled
and writhed, but he held her steady, not stopping until she pulsed and quaked
in a climax that left her semiconscious.

While she recovered, Areus stretched out beside her,
stroking her from breasts to navel.

Finally her eyes opened and she turned to him with a faint
smile.

“You liked that?” he asked, also smiling slightly.

“Just a bit.” She wrinkled her nose.

“A bit? Let’s see if we can do better than that.” He mounted
her swiftly—possessive but not rough. He wanted her to know she was his. His
queen. His woman. Yet he would never hurt her—he wanted only to bring her
pleasure with his body, to thrill and ultimately satisfy her. To let her
realize that he would always protect her.

Areus entered her slowly, easing his steely cock into her
pussy. She was thoroughly soaked and it felt so good, snug inside her hot, wet body.

Moaning softly, she closed her eyes and arched against him,
wrapping her legs around his waist.

His hands braced on either side of her head, Areus thrust
over and over. He kissed her shoulder and neck, then her mouth.

Delia’s tongue met his. She grasped handfuls of his hair and
lifted her hips to his rhythm.

Soon she was panting and writhing again. Her excitement
spurred on Areus. His heart pounded and his cock ached. He longed to surrender
to his own passion, but her pleasure came first. He wanted to give her a night
to remember during their separation.

Delia cried out, clinging hard to him as she came.

Areus paused while she pulsed around him. The delicious
sensations, the grip of her soft, wet flesh surrounding his rock-hard cock,
nearly made him lose control. Somehow he managed to calm himself until her
climax ebbed, then he started thrusting again.

“Oh Areus,” Delia murmured. Her belly clenched and her stiff
nipples rubbed against his chest.

Areus covered her face with kisses.

She stroked his shoulders and chest, then caressed his sides
before grasping his ass. Strong fingers bit into it and she undulated beneath
him. He groaned and closed his eyes, tilting back his head. Delia’s tongue
flicked over his throat. She licked and kissed it, arousing him even more.

Thrusting harder and faster, he brought her to another
climax. This time he thought for sure his control would snap. He marveled that
he was able to last as long as he had. He was so aroused, so enamored by her.
Most of all he was thrilled and grateful that they were sharing this night
together.

No sooner had Delia’s orgasm waned than he started thrusting
again, unsure of whether he could bring her to another climax before finally reaching
his own. He paused for a moment and opened his eyes to find her gazing at him.

He lowered his head and rested his damp forehead against
hers.

If only he didn’t have to leave in the morning. Now that
they had made up, he wanted to spend time with her, but it was impossible.

He kissed her and pumped his hips again.

Delia’s legs tightened around him. She held his head closer,
her tongue mating with his.

He thrust faster, his heart racing. He tore his mouth from
hers to snatch a few frantic breaths just as she came again, moaning and
holding him so tightly it was almost painful, but wonderfully so.

Areus closed his eyes and his muscles stiffened. With a few
final thrusts, he burst inside her, emptying himself into her, body and soul.

* * * * *

In the morning, Delia woke to find Areus gazing at her in
the faint light of the breaking dawn.

“Good morning,” he said, gently caressing her face.

“It always is, when I wake up with you.”

She moved closer and he held her snugly to his chest. Her
words made him happy. He’d dreaded the thought of leaving while she was still
holding a grudge, but apparently she was over their argument.

After a few moments, Areus kissed her hair and said, “I wish
I could hold you all morning but—”

“It’s time for you to go.” Delia squeezed him, then moved
from his embrace. She stood and pulled on her robe.

Areus stretched, then left the bed. He strode to the window
and gazed out.

Several servants were already awake and going about their
chores. Soldiers were moving about the training field outside the barracks.

Servants arrived with water and food. He and Delia washed,
then ate their morning meal in relative silence. Afterward, she went to her own
chamber to dress.

Areus dressed as well, donning armor and sheathing his sword
and daggers.

Although he went about his usual morning routine, today was different,
far different even than other battles in the past.

Soon he would meet Hypatios again.

He tucked the pouch with the lock of Delia’s hair into his
shirt. When he finished dressing, he left his chamber to find Delia waiting for
him.

“Seeing me off?” he asked, smiling faintly.

“Of course.”

He offered her his arm and she rested her small hand on it.
He covered it with his.

“This will be the last time,” he told her.

“What do you mean?”

“This will be the final battle. I know it.”

“You’ll win. I feel it. You’ll keep Lortia safe.”

Gazing into her eyes, he said, “I’ll return as soon as I
can. I’ll miss you, Delia.”

She nodded, but didn’t reply. In the great hall, servants
went about their work. Areus glanced around. Each time he left for battle, he
briefly wondered if it would be his last, but he never dwelled on such
thoughts. He couldn’t.

Alexa and Cosma approached.

“Be safe,” Alexa said, embracing Areus.

“Assist Delia in any way you can,” he told his nurse.

“Of course.”

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