Chapter Four
(suggestive themes)
Rolf felt his hands sweat as they danced. Kalys was tight against him, and he could look over her head at the people around him. Rolf had never been uncomfortable around big groups of people, or being the center of attention; he was the crown prince, it happened often. But this was uncomfortable. His mother had pulled him aside after the ceremony and told him to suck it up and put on a show for the village after they had lost motivation to be publicly affectionate and returned to their awkwardness, but it was getting considerably harder.
It wasn't her. No, Rolf had no problem kissing her more, or putting his arm around her. But he wasn't sure how she felt about it. But he didn't want to embarrass her. It was hard not to let feelings rise up; especially as they danced together in such close proximity. She was pressed up against him nearly, her chest scraping his once and awhile. She would blush and apologize, and Rolf wouldn't really say anything.
She took a misstep in the waltz they were forced to perform, lurching forward so that her soft breasts pushed against his chest.
"Sorry," she whispered, and Rolf watched her cheeks flush red.
He smiled a bit. "Kalys, it's alright."
He kissed her forehead, making eye contact with his mother the whole time, and she raised her eyebrows. She murmured something, gripping his hands tighter. The music stopped, and Kalys pulled away, looking up at him with her large eyes. They both knew what was next, though perhaps they didn't necessarily like it.
Rolf gallantly said his thank yous as prepared and rehearsed, bowing, and then said something about the expected wedding night, without blushing, and then took a deep breath. With one arm around Kalys's upper back, and the other behind her knees, he lifted her in his arms as was tradition. The crowd cheered, and they were on their way down the hall.
"Can you turn the knob for me," he whispered, and Kalys laughed and pushed open the door to the room.
It had expanded since the morning. Not really in size, but there was another wardrobe and another crown stand. Rolf shut the door behind him, locking it, and placed the key elsewhere. Immediately he tugged off his boots. He could feel Kalys watching him as the crown came off. He stopped, ready to watch her. She seemed to be following his suit, or at least attempting to. The tiara kept getting stuck in her hair, and she seemed frustrated trying to untangle the silver from her curls.
When he laughed, she stuck her tongue out at him. He went over to her, resting his hand on hers and she dropped it as he started to untangle it. He could see where her dark curls were getting twisted around, and it was easy for him to pull them out. He pulled her hair out pin by pin, watching as the curls fell. The tiara came off, and Rolf pushed it into her hands.
"You like nice when your hair is down," he commented and Kalys smiled. She placed the tiara on the crown stand beside his, before disappearing into the dressing room.
Rolf himself pulled his stiff over tunic off, hanging it neatly in his wardrobe. He felt awkward and he prepared himself to sleep on the floor. Chivalry was very important for a prince and it had been nailed into him since he could talk. If Kalys didn't feel comfortable, then it was his job to make her comfortable.
She popped her head out of the doorframe to the closet, frowning. "Weren't the maids supposed to move my things here?"
Rolf shrugged. "I believe Lilah said they did this morning; she said she checked, and everything was in order."
Kalys pursed her lips. "Well, they didn't. The only thing that's in here is this."
Rolf tried not to stare; but it was difficult. Kalys had stepped out, arms crossed over her stomach, a slight pout on her face. Rolf had never seen a woman so undressed before. His eyes were locked on her, which made Kalys raise her eyebrows. Rolf could feel his body begin to feel warm, lust rising up in him.
She looked so feminine. She stood in a blush colored top; a ribbon around the ribcage. Lace covered and pushed her breasts so that the round, fleshy tops were visible. The rest flowed to her hips, a sheer veil covering her stomach to a little past her thighs. Rolf chewed his lip, meeting her eyes again. She smirked, before lowering her eyes a bit. He savored the look of her round curves. From her large breasts to the way the fabric stuck to her hips, she was perfect.
His bodily interest in her was evident; though he'd tried very much to tone it down. He could feel the tightness in his pants, so he lowered his eyes, licking his lips. He stayed silent, not knowing what to do. Oh, there were many things he wanted to do; but he couldn't just animalistically act upon such urges.
"I got some very interesting advice regarding tonight," Kalys remarked, uncrossing her arms.
Rolf laughed nervously. "Some very explicit, well-described advice. I do think it's going to my head right now."
Kalys ran her tongue between her lips, a gesture that made Rolf want to leap upon her. He was so hard it hurt, and nothing he thought of could change that. She was so appealing, the nightgown so little.
"That, and the spirits," he whispered, watching the sway of her body as she took a step forward towards him. "Please tell me it's not just me feeling this."
"I feel it too," Kalys whispered back as Rolf took a step closer to her.
He buried his fingers in her hair, lifting her face to meet his eyes. He searched her for any sign of distress, not forming words in his mind to ask her. She nodded, her full lips parted. The kiss they shared was hungry, making his body tingle from his shoulders to his toes. Her mouth was so warm, so soft. Her hands rested on his chest as they kissed, each movement getting more and more passionate. Rolf's heart soared as their tongues collided, tangling into each other, the feeling turning him on even more.
Pulling away from her mouth, he kissed her neck, nipping at her earlobe thanks to some advice he had heard. She let out a breath against him, as her fingers flooded down his abdomen. She pushed her hands into his tunic, and Rolf sighed at the contact on his bare chest. He pulled his mouth from her as the tunic was pulled over his head, but reattached to her lips again.
"Kalys," he whispered, breathing in her scent. And that's when he knew he was done for.
The next day was a day of rest. To the disappointment of the people of Sleyne city, Rolf and Kalys would not be taking a wedding tour (too much to do, and because the king had opted they were much too young; something Rolf was more than happy to leave alone). And so, they had planned two days after the wedding for rest. Basically, to imply to the people that they had consummated their marriage; Rolf, though tactful, was not one to mince words. And they had. Consummated their marriage, that is. And now the two sixteen year-olds were trying to figure out if that had been a mistake.
Kalys awoke the morning after feeling sticky. Though they had cleaned themselves a bit, and she wore one of his softer tunics, she still felt a bit sweaty. Part of it being that she was pressed against Rolf, his arms wrapped around her waist. She could slightly remember going to sleep like that, but there were a lot of memories moving around in her head. She gulped, wriggling out from his grip.
A knock at the door brought breakfast, something Rolf ate, but Kalys didn't. She was much too anxious, and she didn't know why. The spirits had worn off, and the hype and hormones had faded when she woke, leaving her to her emotions on the decision they had just made. That, and she was incredibly sore between her legs.
"I'm trying to decide if that was a terrible, stupid decision, or perhaps a valuable one to our new relationship," Rolf said, stacking his plate neatly at the door. "Everyone besides family just assumed it would happen, so it can't be too moronic."
Kalys made a face. He had a point. It wasn't like they had done anything immoral or wrong. It was something half of the village girls had already done, and something many stable boys talked about. Very grotesquely. And the reason why Kalys brought Pogue or Lulath with her when she needed something from them. Really, though she ached a bit, the experience really was not that bad at all. In fact, she really liked it in the moment. It fit the stereotype towards the end, for sure, and she could still hear the way he'd said her name in the heat of passion. Even now, it gave her shivers.
She pushed a grape into her mouth, chewing slowly. She knew Rolf was feeling the waters, trying to figure out what she thought of all this. His eyes were on her, even now, waiting patiently for what she was going to say. She was also waiting for the words to come. She swallowed the food in her mouth, before setting her hands neatly on her lap.
"It was going to have to happen, sometime, I suppose," she responded carefully. "Why not take advantage of it when still young and passionate?"
The smirk on his face proved to her that was his theory too. Or what he had wanted her to say. She wondered his reaction if she would have stated that what they had done was in a moment of idiocy. But Kalys was not a liar; she knew how much she had wanted it. How open she was to continue the kind of relationship.
"Perhaps this marriage isn't as mournful as either of us assumed it would be."
Celie had always been an eavesdropper. It was a habit that drove Lilah nuts, and one that her parents had nearly given up on breaking. Usually, she was pretty good at it. But now she was craning her neck to hear her brother's conversation. He was being annoyingly quiet, and it was starting to bug her. That, and the hand on Kalys's lower back. Rufus squirmed beside her, and Celie would like to pretend that it was because of her brother, though she knew it was because he was far from patient.
"That looks like an interesting conversation. The hand on the back is a delicate touch, quite literally."
Celie jumped, nearly letting out the new curse word she'd learned the day before. Bran stood behind her, crawling Beatrice the Tiny as Pogue Parry had dubbed her, in his arms like a baby. Celie reached out her hand to the griffin, determined to make herself like-able. Beatrice just hissed.
"Stop sneaking," Celie whined to her wizardly brother, taking her annoyance with the griffin out on him.
Bran frowned, ignoring the comment. "Why are you eavesdropping?"
It was said curiously, not out of scolding. While Rolf was often satisfied minding his own business if he wasn't involved, the three of them were very nosy. Celie liked to blame it on Lilah, because older siblings had a lot of influence. Or at least that's what she'd grown up hearing whenever Rolf or Lilah did something bad. It was weak, since Celie and Lilah obviously inherited the eavesdropping trait from their mother, but it was to make Celie feel better about her habits.
"It's not eavesdropping if you can't hear anything they're saying," Celie sighed. "I have to talk to Kalys, but I'm also curious about what they're saying."
"Hm," Bran grunted, running a hand over Beatrice. "What did you need?"
"Juliet is acting strange, and I want to ask Kalys before telling Lilah. Lilah is already very stressed, and-"
Bran winced in sympathy. The wedding planning was starting to become very stressful to their sister, and all of them had felt the brunt of it at dinner. Even Bran, who usually gave Lilah the benefit of the doubt, was a tad ruffled by her.
"I don't think this is going to end anytime soon. Do me a favor, and go find Pogue. I have an experiment I want to do with the griffins, and he can usually hold them back if they run away," Bran said.
Bran craned his neck, obviously trying to hear what their brother and new sister-in-law were saying. Celie, not wanting to be caught by Rolf if she stayed, went off to find Pogue. It was always interesting to watch when Bran did experiments on the griffins, and it would make her mundane Tuesday perhaps a bit nicer.
The hallways were still busy due to the wedding being two days ago, and she was stopped for small talk multiple times on her search for the blacksmith. Usually if Rufus let out a hiss, something that Celie didn't condone but did appreciate, they would make up some excuse and hurry away. Her thoughts on her brother being married had been solely on what Pogue had said. Maybe he'd said it to be mysterious or smart, but Pogue wasn't really like that anymore. What would be the purpose of pushing a marriage so early?
Celie stopped short as someone yanked on her shoulder. She nearly fell over by the harsh pull, but slowly she turned around. And almost screamed. An old man stared back at her, but one she instantly didn't like. His eyes were wild, and his hair stood on end. There was something wizardly about him, but not in a good way whatsoever.
"Are you one of the princesses, girl?" He demanded rather rudely.
All words left her tongue and she just stared at him for a couple seconds. Rufus was growling a bit, and clicking his paws up and down, something he did when he was about to go into a fighting stance. The man looked practically insane. His cheeks were smeared with dust, and his clothes were in tatters.
Finally, she realized she was being rude, and her mother would not be pleased with her manners. "Yes, I am Princess Cecelia. And you are?"
The man looked at her gruffly, making her want to shrink smaller. "I'll explain that later. Take me to your brother."
When Pogue put a hand on her shoulder, Celie wanted to melt against him. She refrained, but she was still shaking slightly. Relief flooded through her at alarming rates, and she didn't know why. She just was so frightened by this mysterious man. And she even had Rufus.
"Who are you?" Pogue asked him, and Celie realized she was not alone in disliking him.
The man waved his hand. "I hate explaining that twice. Take me to the crown prince. I'm assuming he's with the king?"
Celie shrugged at Pogue. What harm could it do? She'd rather have Rolf and her father reason with the man than her. They dealt with crazies nearly daily. Pogue looked hesitant, but Celie just nodded.
"It is Tuesday, Pogue."
The knight sighed, though he still shook his head slightly at Celie. "I'll take you to the king."
Rolf hated petition day. So far this Tuesday Delcoe Ross had come in once again, along with other uninteresting fights between farmers on borders. That, and one over a girl. He had a massive headache, and it was only an hour in. They had three more hours to go. Last week had been a bit more interesting, but so far he felt as though these fights were stupid or boring, and he was tired and irratable. His attention was grabbed, however, when Pogue, dragging an elderly man by the collar, suddenly yanked the door open.
King Glower looked at first both offended and annoyed, but then he seemed to catch the look on Pogue's face. It was a scowl, a determined scowl, one that showed this was important. Which made Rolf even more curious.
"This man has requested to be in both of your presence after harassing Princess Cecelia," Pogue said coldly.
The elderly man bowed to the king, who was nearly glaring at the mention of his daughter. Rolf just wanted to know why. He never really worried about Celie. She had both the Castle and a griffin with her. She was the safest of them all. He raised his eyebrows as Pogue came to stand by him, and the man conversed with the king.
"I don't trust him," the knight whispered. "There's something very off."
Rolf twisted his wedding band, trying to get used to the feeling. "The dungeon cells are still cleaned out."
Pogue nodded, agreeing with him. They watched as formalities were given, and then the king beckoned Rolf over. He bowed too, like most of the time, though he couldn't see why they hadn't done it all in one go.
"Great honor, Your Majesty," the man was saying. "But I think what I need requires your son rather than yourself."
They all raised their eyebrows at that.
"How so?" King Glower asked, on edge. He was calm, quiet, but ready at any second to kick the man out of the throne room. Rolf had no doubt in his mind that Pogue would be more than willing to carry out such orders.
"I have something to request," the man wheedled, also knowing the king was not very happy with him.
"Which is?"
"The crown prince's firstborn."
"You're what?" Bran spat out, his surprise eerily evident.
Rolf was chewing his lip, his hands were shaking, and his mouth felt like someone had stuck cotton in it. Kalys stood very stiff beside him, both of them trying to push the activities they'd been doing together far from their mind. Rolf felt stupid, reckless, and overall like an idiot. They could've done at least something to try and prevent this. At least a little precaution.
"I'm the man who controls the Castle," the man said again.
After the man had said some rather disturbing things, King Glower had called the rest of the family into the room off the throne room with him. The king had wanted to just throw him in the dungeon, but Rolf had insisted that they hear him out. He was very curious, as worried as he was, and he wanted to know more.
"No one controls the Castle," Queen Celina said coolly, as if that were the end of the matter. "The Castle controls the Castle."
"How would you know? You barely have even touched the surface of the Castle. All you know is what the damned Arkish configured! The great builder in all his wisdom, knew my power and assigned me to the Castle." The man was grinning, a smile that was very unsettling.
"No, no that's not right," Kalys said, and they all looked at her. "You're talking about the legend of Casper. But you weren't assigned anything. The Builder tried to trap you in the Castle hoping its power would overrule you."
"Ah, yes, the Hathelock princess." The man reached out to touch her but Kalys took a step back. "You know why I need your child."
She swallowed, shaking her head. Rolf took her hand, and she smiled gratefully at him. This was a mess of a situation that he hoped to the gods was coming from an insane drunk man. But how would he know the legend that Kalys seemed so sure of? Rolf watched as Bran looked suspiciously at Kalys, before shaking his head away. The same look was plastered on his father's face; the feeling of his own he'd pushed down seconds ago. Kalys was fine; Kalys was safe, and she wasn't harming anyone.
"Since your Hathelock wife isn't willing to tell you, I simply reason this: I need your child to save the Castle." The man paused, looking around at each of them. "The power of the east is rising; I cannot hold this power much longer. But a mix of Hathelock and Arkish blood? He's our only hope."
"All of us are mixed blood," Rolf said carefully, challenging him. "Besides, the east has posed no threat before."
"Don't be foolish, little prince. There is deep, dark magic laying in the hidden depths of the east. Magic even stronger than the Castle," the man hissed. "As for the blood, your mother is not fully Hathelock, Kalys is."
"And I'm not fully Arkish," Rolf argued back, and Queen Celina sent him a look, meaning for him to be cautious.
"Hmmm, yes, but you are mostly Arkish. In fact, if you would believe in the ancient prophecies your blood properties would be in full. But that doesn't matter. The Castle needs you, prince, more than you know." The most sickening part was how sincere the man seemed. That this was really the only way.
"Why would I give my child to someone who's name I don't even know?"
"Princess Kalys was right; my birth name is Casper-"
"Well, then, Casper," King Glower interrupted. "I am hereby asking you to leave. Pogue?"
The knight nodded, yanking on the man. He spluttered and protested, but Pogue kept dragging. Usually Rolf didn't condone such harsh treatment of the elderly, but he didn't care. The man disgusted him, and he wasn't alone in the feeling. He felt worse than the emissary, worse even than Arkwright. He was proven true right before the door shut. Casper's eyes looked straight into his as he whispered:
"Mark my words, little prince. You can refuse me, but I'll have your son by my own means if I must."