Chapter Seventeen

Ophelia woke with the distinct sensation of nausea, instantly knowing that she was moments away from vomiting. Her cheeks unpleasantly tingled as her mouth begun to flood with saliva. "Oh God..." she whimpered, slamming her hand over her mouth as she stumbled out of bed and sprinted across the room toward the bathroom. She unceremoniously dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, uncovering her mouth in time for a stream of vomit to spill from between her lips, splattering distastefully against the pristine porcelain bowl. The sour scent of her own vomit mingled with the lingering chemical odour of bleach making her retch, sending further streams of projectile vomit messily cascading into the toilet.

"Ophelia?" the king's sleepy, confused voice echoed in the stark silence of the bathroom. "What happened, are you sick?"

"I-" she was cut off by another torrent of vomit.

"Christ Ophelia," David grimaced, his tone laced with concern as his hands moved to brush her hair from her sweat slick face.

Exhausted from the unexpected puke-fest, Ophelia slumped back against David's thighs before collapsing in a heap on the cool, marble floor. "Go back to bed David, I'll be fine," she groaned, massaging her clammy forehead between her thumb and forefinger. Nausea still lingered, her stomach feeling like it'd been flipped upside down and honestly, despite the floor not being of optimum comfort, she didn't have any plans to move, not for a while at least – she knew she'd only end up sprinting back and she could do with the athletics, she was too bloody tired.

"My love I'm not leaving you alone, vomiting and sprawled on the bathroom floor," David frowned.

"Why, is it not becoming of a queen?" she scoffed sardonically.

"My reluctance to leave you like this has no relation to what a queen should or shouldn't do but rather it has every relation to my concern for your health Ophelia," he frowned, momentarily disappearing before re-appearing seconds later with two cushions and two thick blankets from the sitting room couch. He gently placed a cushion beneath her head before covering her with one of the blankets and out of the blue she was overcome with a wave of emotion and his tender gesture was too much for her to handle in her overly emotional state, so much so that she felt the all too familiar sting of tears building behind her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, wiping her leaking eyes.

"Ophelia..." David sighed worriedly, stroking her forehead before settling himself beside her on the floor.

Ophelia's stomach wavered unfavourably when the usually tantalising aroma of coffee flooded her senses and rather than making her want to sample the fragrant drink, instead it made her want to barf.

"Looks like someone over-indulged on the champers last night-" Paul grinned at her from across the table, "-you're looking a little green around the gills your majesty," he teased.

Ophelia might be a rookie when it came to alcohol and it's less than friendly after-effects on exceeding her limits but with how severely drained, nauseous and emotional she was feeling, she was inclined to believe that her fragile state wasn't necessarily due to the copious amount of champagne she'd indulged in the previous night during her and the king's engagement party. It wasn't just the nausea and exhaustion that was plaguing her either, she felt uncomfortably bloated and her thighs ached like she'd spent the night doing squats.

"It's good to know my misery amuses you Paul," she pouted, picking at a pecan plait, pushing away the cup of coffee that was making her insides wobble.

"Has it grown cold your majesty? Would you like me to pour you another cup?" Laurent inquired, gesturing to the neglected cup of coffee as he collected the empty plates cluttering the dining table.

"No thank you – I don't think I can stomach it," she replied with a tired smile and caught sight of Ellie whispering something unintelligible in Paul's ear causing his eyes to grow wide, the fork he held in his hand falling onto his plate with a deafening clang.

"Sorry," he smiled sheepishly and Ophelia frowned.

What was that about?

Knuckles rapped against the doors to the dining hall before Riyadh stepped into the hall holding a neatly rolled piece of parchment. He bowed low before the king, holding out the parchment in offering. "Word from Alexandria your majesty," he informed courteously before turning on his heel and strode back out into the corridor.

David untied the crimson ribbon and unravelled the parchment reading the contents of the note with a furrowed brow. "Alexandria is unable to make it for your lessons for the next few days, his wives health has taken an unanticipated decline," the king announced, setting the parchment beside his plate.

Ophelia though sad to hear that Alexandria's wife was once again sick, couldn't help but feel relieved that she wouldn't have to endure his gruelling royal etiquette lessons when all she wanted to do was crawl back into bed and sleep. However, her relief was short-lived when the king informed her of the upcoming alternative.

"As much as I'd like to give you the day off Ophelia, unfortunately time is not on our side and with your coronation a not too distant prospect, I must ensure that you're prepared. Therefore, you'll continue your defence lessons," David stated.

Ophelia groaned, palming her forehead, already feeling a dull ache building behind her eyes. "Seriously?" she pouted, propping her cheek on her fist.

"Don't worry, there will be no physical exertion for you my love, I just wish for you to listen to what Marko has to say and observe what Ezra has to show you," David gave her an understanding smile.

Ophelia's stomach sank, the last person she wanted to see while she was feeling so emotional and exhausted was that pretentious twat. Ellie shifted uncomfortably in her seat and she saw Paul scowl, clearly as unimpressed as she was knowing that he'd have to spend any length of time in the presence of the chauvinistic pig.

"Marko, you may escort Ophelia to the ballroom. If you should need me for anything I'll be in court as usual," David stated, rising from his seat. He squeezed Ophelia's shoulder as he passed, leaning to whisper in her ear. "I'll call for you once court has adjourned sweet one, I know you're weary, I just want to ensure you're not alone while feeling so out of sorts. I hope you understand – I'm not purposely trying to be a tyrant," he murmured, softly kissing her temple before making his way out of the hall.

Ophelia's chest burned with affection as she swallowed around the lump in her throat. The king's concern for her well-being seemed to be a catalyst for yet another bout of emotional instability and it was then she knew for certain that it wasn't just the copious amount of champagne she'd drank like lemonade last night making her feel so out of character.

Was she perhaps slipping back into the depression she'd managed to pull herself out of? Or perhaps it was hormonal, it was hard to keep track of the days but she was pretty sure that mother nature was due a visit anytime soon... Abruptly she remembered her less than gracious stint in the bathroom that morning and the lump in her throat seemed to double in size. She thought back to the occasional pregnancy scares her friends back in England had gone through and how they'd thought the nausea, emotional instability and mind-numbing exhaustion all paired with a late period meant they'd be next in line for MTV's Teen Mum. It was never the case however, but she recalled the tangible sense of anxiety they'd all felt waiting for those familiar pink lines to show in the test window.

The same anxiety she could feel creeping into her chest, making her skin feel flushed and overly hot...

"C'mon queenie pops, let's get the torture over with," Paul sighed, offering his hand to pull her to her feet, tucking her beneath his shoulder as they made their way down to the ballroom.

Ophelia found herself completely distracted, her head in the proverbial clouds as she tried and failed to work out the dates of her last period and where in her cycle she was supposed to be. The thought of being pregnant was setting her nerves on edge not because she didn't want children but rather because she was completely unprepared, that paired with a stomach-churning fear that her overindulgence on alcohol the previous night could have already damaged what had only just started.

"Your majesty if you're not going to bother paying attention, I'm not going to waste my time," Ezra's haughty tone snapped her out of her bubble of panic and she felt her cheeks flush, abashed.

"Hey, don't speak to her like that asshole," Paul scowled.

"Oh do shut up Paul-" Ezra rolled his eyes, "-I'm here as a favour to the king, it's supposed to be my day off – it's my time being wasted here."

Ophelia felt her cheeks darken further, feeling thoroughly chastised. As much as she was angry with Ezra for how he'd treated Ellie, she was in a fragile state of mind and rather than going on the defensive and telling him to shove his precious time up his arse, she felt her bottom lip trembling as her vision blurred. "Sorry," she sniffed.

"Now look what you've done-" Paul bristled, "-don't you have any empathy? You can see she's not feeling too good and you go and have a go. I think you like making girls cry, does it make you feel like a man? You big bitch."

"Guys, let's just cool it OK?-" Marko held his hands up in a gesture of peace, "-Paul's right Ezra, you're kinda out of line for speaking to her like that, she's not purposely ignoring you."

Ezra exhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can we just get on with it," he snapped, tossing a sword at Ophelia's feet, the heavy bejewelled handle striking the bridge of her toes eliciting a sudden flare of pain.

Ophelia yelped from the shock, rubbing her foot as she forced herself not to cry, her tearful disposition suddenly morphing into a burst of indignant anger. God she felt like she'd been strapped onto the metaphorical emotional rollercoaster without a harness. "Do you have eyes you absolute tosser?" she yelled, rising to her feet as she tried to ignore the dull throb in her foot.

"Did it hit you?-" Marko's eyes widened, "-I'm sorry Ophelia, I thought it merely startled you."

"You could have broken her foot you dick," Paul snarled, lurching in Ezra's direction but Ophelia caught his arm and pulled him back.

"You know it's customary to apologise to someone when you hurt them," she stated with more confidence than she felt.

"You're being dramatic, it didn't touch you," Ezra scoffed, sheathing his own sword.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Ophelia frowned.

"If the crown fits," he countered with a smug smirk.

Ophelia was overcome with a fit of anger. She was emotional, exhausted, scared, her foot was throbbing and she was still pissed off with how he'd treated her best friend, the combination powerful enough to cause the fuse on her patience to fizzle out and she stepped forward, striking the king's guard across the face with her open palm. Both Marko and Paul quickly moved to stand between her and Ezra and she wasn't so sure whether it was to prevent her from further damaging her reputation as future queen or whether it was more to do with the fire burning in the guards eyes.

Regardless, Ophelia pushed past her two personal bodyguards, pointing a shaking finger in Ezra's direction. "Do not call me a liar you pompous prick. I don't know who the hell you think you are waltzing around like you're God's gift to this palace when you're nothing more than a coward who enjoys bullying women because you know full-well that if you tried the same bullshit with someone your own size they'd hand your ass to you on a plate!"

"What the hell are you talking about you hysterical hag," Ezra retorted.

"Do not speak to her in such a derogatory manner – she is your future queen," Marko harshly warned and Ezra scoffed.

"No, it's fine Marko, let the foolish prat speak, after all, I'm not finished with what I want to say to him," she interjected. "You wanted to know what I was referring to, yes?" she swallowed. Her body felt much too hot whether from anger or something else she wasn't so sure. "Well Ezra, I'm referring to the way you think you can insult and belittle the women in this palace and get away with it. I know about your fight with Paul and what you said to Ellie and it's disgusting."

"What's so wrong with calling a whore a whore? It's the same as calling a twig, a twig, is it not? They're one and the same," Ezra refuted and Ophelia lunged forward, wholly willing to punch the arrogant arse in the mouth.

David slumped down in his throne, rubbing his brow in an attempt to ease the dull throb in his head. Court had been one big jumble of giddy excitement, prying questions and unwarranted comments about his impending marriage and all the commotion only served to remind him how much he loathed planning parties.

It was final, he was hiring a wedding planner, let them field the constant barrage of nonsense...

He was about to call for Marko to escort Ophelia to him when his personal guard beat him to it, practically falling through the throne room doors, his future wife locked firmly in his arms and Paul hot on his heels. "Let go of me, I can fight my own battles," Ophelia yelled, swatting at Marko's arms to no avail.

Marko planted Ophelia at the foot of the dais, combing his fingers through his dishevelled hair. "Apologies your majesty but I didn't know what else to do. She wouldn't calm down and I feared she was going to injure herself."

"I don't need to injure myself, I have that asshole to do it for me," she whimpered, collapsing ungraciously onto the edge of the dais, rubbing her foot.

David's chest tightened, a mixture of anger and confusion whirring like a building hurricane inside him. "Just what the hell is the meaning of this? Who is she referring to?"

"Ezra-" Paul cut Marko off before he'd even began, "-Ophelia wasn't feeling very well and her attention wasn't so great during the lesson and he started bitchin' at her, basically telling her she was wasting his time in a less than friendly manner might I add-" he scowled, "-I called him out on being disrespectful and he got arsey and threw a sword at Ophelia."

"He did what?!" David barked.

"It hit my foot-" Ophelia murmured, "-it really hurts," she exhaled a shaky breath, her eyes misty with tears.

"And you didn't think to take her to the healer or perhaps I don't know – call for me?" David snapped at his two friends as he swiftly moved to kneel at his queen's feet, gently removing her pumps.

"Sire I didn't realise she was hurt, I thought it merely startled her-" Marko swallowed, "-then everything just got carried away and I didn't think-"

"-What do you mean things got carried away?" David frowned, tentatively examining Ophelia's bruised foot.

"Ezra called her a liar, he said it didn't hit her-" Paul explained, "-he called her a deranged hag too..."

"What?!" David's head snapped up.

"Ophelia slapped him..." Marko murmured.

David stared incredulously at Ophelia's flushed face and she averted her eyes guiltily. "Is this true Ophelia?"

"Yes," she nodded, her eyes misting with tears. "I don't know what came over me. I was so angry that he called me a liar and my foot was throbbing and he just thinks he can talk to women however he pleases. He called my best friend a whore and he hurt Paul because of it and well... I know it was out of line but if he's speaking to me and Ellie the way he is in front of others then how is he treating other women when no-ones around? Someone has to stand up to him, it's not right, I won't allow it in my palace."

The corner of David's mouth quirked in a ghost of a smile hearing her refer to their home as her palace. However the warmth in his chest was clouded by his anger knowing that his staff and Ophelia were being mistreated by someone he thought he could count on. "Come-" he helped his weary, hellion queen to her feet and led her to her throne, prompting her to sit, "-Ellie!" he called out into the ether and his queen's lady in waiting appeared seconds later. "Marko bring me Ezra," he ordered before lowering himself into his throne.

"Sire?" Ellie frowned, confused, her gaze drifting to Ophelia, a flicker of concern alight in her kind eyes.

"Ophelia has informed me that Ezra insulted you, is this true?" David asked, noting Ellie's eyes dart in Paul's direction momentarily before she nodded sheepishly.

"Please your majesty, don't punish Paul for the fight, he was just protecting me," Ellie implored, ringing her hands and Paul lowered his head into his hand, outwardly cringing.

"He didn't know about the fight Elle," Paul whispered and Ellie's brows arched.

"Oh..."

"Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on in my damn palace behind my back?!" David growled, irritated that he felt so out of the loop. Why hadn't Ophelia spoken to him about all this? Why was she acting so out of character? The woman he knew would never raise her hand to another, she was so laid-back she was practically docile but since that morning she'd been all over the place.

"Paul and Ellie are together-" Ophelia sighed, giving her two friends an apologetic smile, "-Paul was just defending the woman he loved. Ezra was putting his hands on her without her consent and then when he started to insult her, Paul rightfully lost his temper."

"You're together?" the king gestured between Paul and Ellie.

"Yes sire," Paul nodded awkwardly.

"Well I suggest that you both go public with your relationship to prevent further occurrences of other's encroaching on your territory Paul-" David suggested, utterly flawed that his lackadaisical friend with a penchant for being hornier than a goat had chosen to settle down, "-and if you so wish Ellie, I can permanently remove you from the palace harem and keep you in employ solely as Ophelia's lady in waiting."

"I don't know what to say your majesty," Ellie flustered.

"There's no need to say anything further on the matter, you're both dismissed," he stated and with one last fleeting glance in his queens direction, both Paul and Ellie exited the throne room, leaving him alone with Ophelia.

"Ophelia-" he started only to be cut off by a hitching sob.

"-I'm sorry, I know I've embarrassed you. I know it's not befitting of a queen to go around slapping guards and calling them assholes and pretentious pricks. I don't know what came over me David, I'm so sorry. I should be punished, I'll walk myself to the dungeons," she stammered, wiping her leaking eyes as she got to her feet.

"My love sit down, I'm not angry with you, I'm just a little surprised. The Ophelia I know and love is a pacifist not an aggressor. I do wish you'd have called for me rather than taking on a trained guard yourself. What if he'd have retaliated? What if you got hurt?" he frowned, watching as she flopped back into her throne, seemingly exhausted.

Ophelia didn't have a chance to reply as a loud knock on the room doors interrupted their conversation. "Enter," David ordered, rubbing his jaw.

Ezra strolled toward the dais, greeting David with a low bow while Marko stood off to the side, his hands clasped behind his back, silently observing. "You wished to speak to me your majesty?" Ezra was the first to speak, giving David the opportunity to temper down his rage that one of his own guard would dare to show his queen any form of disrespect never mind launching a sword anywhere near her.

Ophelia kept her eyes trained on her feet, clearly uncomfortable, and he secretly wished she'd exhibit the confidence it took for her to raise her hand to a vampire knowing she was still only half-mortal, she was still human. Breakable. "I'm not going to beat around the proverbial bush here Ezranyx, I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to answer me truthfully," the king stated coolly.

"Firstly, did you make unwanted advances toward Ellie and when her discomfort was made known by a member of the guard, you then made derogatory, hurtful remarks about her?"

"I did not say anything that you haven't said yourself in the past your majesty," Ezra replied cockily and David bristled, feeling Ophelia's eyes on him, her expression confused while Marko grimaced.

"What I have said in the past is neither here nor there Ezra and it would serve you well not to be so bold and to remember to whom you speak," the king countered, his tone laced with warning.

Ezra shifted in place. "Yes sire."

"Now I'm going to ask you again, are these allegations truthful?"

"Yes your majesty."

"Alright-" he nodded, "-secondly, did you or did you not throw a sword at the future queen, injuring her only for you to then proceed to call her a liar when confronted as well as referring to her as a deranged hag?" he added, smoothing out his cloak, distracting himself from the urge to beat ten shades of shit out of the man stood before him.

He'd save that rage for later...

"Yes sire though the deranged hag comment was purely in retaliation to being struck," he replied guiltily.

"Though the queen exceeded her limits in striking you, I can understand her anger when you hurt her and then have the audacity to call her a liar rather than doing the honourable thing and apologising," David stated coldly.

"Yes your majesty," Ezra cowed to the kings powerful presence.

"For your disrespect against the queen I order that you spend three nights in the dungeons-" David declared, "-and as for your behaviour towards the women in this palace, I forbid you from seeking the pleasures of the palace harem for one complete month. This should give you ample time to reflect on your behaviour and to understand that the palace concubines are not just there for you to use and objectify. They are people with feelings and they deserve to be treated with respect, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sire," Ezra conceded.

"Marko, please escort Ezra to the dungeons then report to your post."

"Yes your majesty," Marko bowed.

The second the doors closed behind the two guards, Ophelia asked him the question he knew was and had been dreading coming. "Did you really say such disrespectful things about the palace concubines?"

David swallowed around the lump of guilt in his throat, meeting his queens hurt expression with a shamed grimace. "You have to understand that I was in a dark place before you came into my life Ophelia. I was growing frustrated and impatient with solitude. I didn't want fleeting one night stands or whimsical acts of pleasure. I wanted love. I wanted a family. I wanted companionship and yes, my frustration and discontent got the better of me and I did make some derogatory remarks in conversation or when one of the harem exceeded their limits..."

"How can we ask that the men in this palace treat the women with respect with a king that preaches equality yet doesn't practice it?"

"I'm not that man any more Ophelia and I honestly regret my behaviour," he rose from his throne, closing the space between them. "Have I given you reason to doubt my word?"

"No," she relented, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Why don't you go and rest before dinner my love, I can see the exhaustion in your eyes," he sighed, kissing her crown, his brows furrowed with worry for her health and state of mind. Was she slipping back into depression? How had he not seen the signs? Then again, he'd been so preoccupied with finding the right damn ring and trying to figure out just exactly what to say when he presented it to her, that he'd been completely oblivious to any changes in her behaviour.

"Are you really not going to punish me?" she peered up at him through lush, thick lashes.

David smiled, shaking his head. "No my love, I'm actually proud of you for standing your ground. I'd be a hypocrite if I punished you for striking a member of staff and losing your temper with my track record-" he chuckled, "-though I beg of you not to pick fights with vampires when you're still so fragile. Next time you feel the need to strike anyone please make use of my hand, yours in much too precious," he crooned, kissing her knuckles.

"What do you mean, you're a marshmallow," she teased, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

"Please retire to our chambers and rest before you further emasculate me," he laughed, ushering her out of the room.

"You know you said you're not gonna punish me? Well... can I have that in writing?" Ophelia grinned and David barked a laugh.

"Go you hellion – before I change my mind," he chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

"David," Dwayne's voice hollered behind as he heard the sound of hurried footsteps making their way down the corridor.

"Yes?" he replied coldly, turning toward the stairs leading to the dungeon.

He had a score to settle...

"Marko told me what happened and I implore you to think very carefully about what you plan to do," he fell in step beside the furious immortal king, his dark eyes flickering with concern.

"What I do or do not choose to do is not of your concern Dwayne," he countered, shaking his friend off as he descended the stone steps.

"Ezra is a fool – don't let him force you to slip into old habits."

David laughed humourlessly. "Seeking retribution for my queen is not slipping into old habits you rambling idiot, it's simply an eye for an eye – justice."

They reached the bottom of the steps and Dwayne gripped the kings shoulders. "Then let me deal with him on your behalf-"

"-No-" David cut him off, shoving his hands away, "-now, if you have nothing of benefit to contribute, please abscond."

Dwayne relented in hold, exhaling a heavy sigh as his shoulder's sagged in defeat, wordlessly following the king deeper into the dungeons.

"Your majesty," Kieran straightened himself up before bending into a low bow.

"Ezra – where is he?" he asked, his tone flat.

"Furthest cell to the left sire," Kieran replied, shooting Dwayne a look of discomfort.

David strode down the dimly lit walk-way, his focus solely on showing Ezra exactly what happened when he brought harm to what was his. Kieran swiftly unlocked the cell, stepping out of the kings path as the iron gate swung open with a resounding screech of rusting hinges. Ezra sat bolt upright on the bunk, a flicker of fear registering in his eyes as David stepped into the cell with Dwayne flanking him, his features stoic. "Kieran, would you be so kind as to lend me your sword?" he held out his hand, relishing in the look of fear on Ezra's face, observing him swallow the urge to plead for mercy.

It would do him no good and he knew it...

The cool metal of the swords handle brushed the kings palm and he tightened his grip, adjusting to the heavy weight like it was second nature. David prowled forward, closing in on the cowering guard before him, the sword swinging menacingly by his side. "On your feet," he barked and Ezra instantly leapt to his feet, his hands balling into fists, unfurling seconds later, a clear sign of distress.

"Did you really think that the only retribution you'd face for bringing harm to the queen would be a three day stint in this shit hole?" he snarled and Ezra flinched.

"No sire," he answered.

"At least you're senses haven't completely deserted you," he smirked before bring the blade of the sword down on his boot-clad feet, the razor sharp point slicing through the thick leather like a knife through butter. David relished in Ezra's strident roar of agony as he purposely twisted the blade of the sword, the sound of metal scraping against bone mingling with the sound of the guards screams.

"If you ever and I mean ever even glance in the queens direction with an iota of disrespect, it won't be your feet that suffer the fate of the blade of a sword, do you understand?" the king snarled, yanking the blade from Ezra's foot only to drive it into the other, eliciting another roar of agony.

"I said do you understand soldier?" David roared, fisting Ezra's hair.

"Yes sire," he answered through gritted teeth.

"Good," he hissed, releasing his hold at the same time he removed the blade of the sword, leaving the chastised guard to sag onto the bunk, grimacing as his wound's begun to heal.

"Most gracious Kieran," David shook off his lingering anger as he handed the bewildered vampire his sword as he strode passed, making his way back to the main palace without a courtesy look back.

Ophelia sat crossed-legged in the middle of the bed, anxiously chewing her fingernails as she stared off into space, palming her forehead when a nauseating dizzy spell washed over her leaving her skin clammy and her face flushed. She'd been sat staring at the opposite wall fighting the urge to puke for the past hour, unable to sleep from the multitude of anxiety-inducing thoughts spinning in her mind leaving her mouth dry and her palms slick with sweat.

Unable to take the torture any longer nor the constant lingering sense of worry, Ophelia shook off the haze clouding her mind and called for her lady-in-waiting. "Ellie?" she murmured, unable to muster the strength to shout.

"Yes my lady?" Ellie appeared moments later, her hair dishevelled and the skirt of her dress askew.

"I'm sorry, did I disturb you?" Ophelia quirked her brow, unable to stifle her giggles as she pictured the look on Paul's face - she imagined he was branding her a royal cock-block right at that moment in time...

"Of course not-" Ellie fibbed, smoothing down her skirt, "-is everything OK? You look peaky."

"I feel like I'm about to hurl-" Ophelia grimaced, "-which is why I called you here... can I ask you something in confidence?"

"Is it about the pregnancy?" she countered and Ophelia's jaw dropped incredulously.

"What pregnancy?" she stammered.

"Oh... my lady I'm sorry I thought..." she flustered sheepishly.

"You think I'm pregnant?"

"I had a feeling when I saw you at breakfast. I'm sorry Ophelia, I spoke out of turn, I shouldn't have made such an assumption..."

"No-" Ophelia held her hand up, giving a wave of dismissal, "-it's fine, I'm actually glad you did because it's given me a much needed reality check."

"I don't understand," Ellie frowned.

"I knew I wasn't just hung-over-" Ophelia clarified, "-I knew it was something more but I just didn't know what until it dawned on me that I couldn't figure out when my period was due and well... honestly I'm thinking perhaps your assumption isn't so far-fetched..."

"Oh your majesty-" Ellie fussed, stroking Ophelia's hair as she wrapped a dainty arm around her shoulders, "-does his majesty know of your predicament?"

"No-" Ophelia shook her head, "-I didn't want to say anything until I knew for sure and that's what I need you to help me with – how does it work down here? How do you test for pregnancy?"

"We go to the healer for blood work and an examination-" her friend explained, "-would you like me to take you?"

"Please," Ophelia nodded, her stomach tying itself in one big knot.

Ophelia knocked on the door to the king's study, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Enter," the king's incredibly sexy, gravelly voice called in response and her stomach fluttered.

She stepped into the room, finding the king propped behind his desk, a pile of neatly stacked parchment resting beside the hand that glided over some form of contract, scrawling his name with a flourish with the nib of a fountain pen. He raised his head, greeting her with a warm smile, foregoing his paperwork in favour of closing the space between them and wrapping her in a deliciously warm embrace. "What brings you here my love, is everything OK?" he inquired, cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand.

Ophelia sighed contently, nuzzling his palm with a small smile. "I just missed you," she confessed, meeting his affectionate gaze.

"I missed you too my love," he drawled, drawing her into a succession of soft, lingering kisses which subsequently ignited the fire of desire deep in her core.

Her day was turning into one big twist and turn, the emotional rollercoaster she was strapped on refusing to ease-up on the next bout of emotional whiplash and this time it came in the form of a deliciously familiar heat pooling low in her stomach.

"Does his majesty care to prove it?" she murmured seductively, guiding him back toward the nearest chair where she lightly pushed on his shoulders as he lowered himself to sit, leaning back against the plush cushions with a quirked brow and a wicked smirk.

"But of course my queen," he grinned, beckoning her to him with a teasing curl of his finger and Ophelia giggled as he yanked her into his lap before planting her knees either side of him on the chairs arms, his face buried against her navel.

She could feel the heat of his breath bleed through the luxurious fabric of her skirt, the pleasurable sensation eliciting a familiar ache between her thighs. A shiver like the sweet caress of her lovers finger inched down her spine as David slowly pushed the skirt of her dress toward her hips before tearing off her knickers in one swift motion. A deep growl of want rumbling from the kings chest as his fingers kneading the soft flesh of her rear while he pulled her hips forward, teasing her mound with a lingering, wet kiss.

Ophelia's breath hitched, planting her hands on the back of the chair to steady herself while the king slouched in his seat, his mouth ghosting her desire slick folds eliciting a full body shudder. David's mouth covered her aching mound and she cried out with pleasure, her hips bucking forward, desperately seeking the skilful twist of his tongue. Her body jerked when his mouth sought her hidden bundle of nerves, caressing the sensitive bud with his practiced tongue and a whimpering moan tumbled from her parted lips as her fingers moved to tangle in his thick mess of platinum blonde hair.

Her king branded his name between her thighs, urging her to buck her hips as he devoured her completely, his hunger for her insatiable. He tore his name from her throat as a a burst of liquid fire swam through her veins leaving her panting, breathless and utterly spent. Ophelia collapsed in his arms, covering his mouth in a feverish kiss, tasting herself on his lips and tongue. As she slowly came down from her high, she remembered the reason she'd been so keen to seek him out, unable to remain patient until nightfall when they'd retire to their chambers.

"David, there's something I need to tell you," she whispered, her fingers toying with the silver emblem hanging loose over his chest.

"Hmmm... what is it sweetheart?" he sighed, kissing her crown.

"You know I've been a little off today?"

"Really? I hadn't noticed," David teased and Ophelia giggled, playfully swatting his shoulder.

"Be serious," she smiled, pulling back so that she could see his handsome face.

"Sorry my love, continue," he smiled, his gorgeous blue eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Well after a lot of miscalculation, confusion and admittedly denial, I went to the healer and-"

"You went to see Omarion? Why, are you sick?" he panicked, cupping her face in his hands.

"Not exactly-" she shook her head, chewing her lip, "-I'm pregnant..."

David stiffened beneath her and not in the way that preceded an earth-shattering orgasm. His eyes comically widened while he merely stared at her, his mouth agape. "Hello, is anyone in there?" she attempted levity, lightly tapping his brow with her knuckles.

"You're pregnant? We're having a baby? Me and you?" he stammered dumbfounded.

"No me and Dwayne," she joked and David growled, playfully knocking her to the floor before seeming to remember what she'd just told him and scooped her up into his arms, his hand resting on her stomach.

"Sorry I didn't hurt you did I?" he panicked, fussing over her in the way that made her chest ache with love.

"I'm pregnant not made of glass David," she laughed, shaking her head in amusement.

"No, my love, to me you're the most precious, fragile, breakable, valuable asset and this life growing inside you-" he gently placed his hand against her abdomen, "-means just as much. I can't describe my happiness right now Ophelia. I sincerely love you," he murmured and she felt herself melt.

"I love you too my king," she beamed before her smile dropped and she groaned, palming her forehead.

"What is it Ophelia?" he frowned.

"I'm gonna look so fat in my wedding dress..." she pouted evoking a bark of laughter.

"Oh Ophelia, how I adore you," he chuckled, drawing her into a fierce embrace.