A/N- Hey Everyone, Happy May! Thanks for sticking with this story.

Flashback

Katerina wasn't speaking to him.

And he knows that logically, she can't speak to him across a crowded ballroom whilst he was waltzing with another woman in his arms.

But she hadn't spoken to him all night, nothing more than a brief hello as he'd stopped in his entrance to the ballroom to ask her father a question, a clear ruse so he could make conversation with Miranda and then Katerina and Elena.

And Elena had been friendlier to him than Katerina had.

Katerina, who only last week had sat on his lap in the gazebo in the spring garden as he'd kissed her so deeply and so long that his lips had been tingling for an hour afterward.

The music ends, the woman- possibly the Hungarian diplomat's wife or daughter- gushes about how wonderful it was, but he's darting away into the crowd before she can finish.

Or he's trying to at least.

Unfortunately, Crown Princes couldn't disappear into a crowd, as the crowd tended to part to allow him through, as though he were surrounded by a barrier that left an almost perfect circle between him and the rest of the world.

The music begins again and he feels the weight of dozens if not hundreds of mothers, daughters and women acting on their own behalf, willing him to ask them for the next dance.

He keeps his eyes lowered until he hears his name and sees his younger brother, Kol, waving at him from one of the corners where a few seats were scattered near a drinks table.

Wonderful, he was probably half way to drunk already.

And of course, Mikael would blame him for that.

Well, he can't ask a woman to dance if he's trying to stop his younger brother from drinking the palace dry.

He is almost on top of him before he sees who his brother is standing next to, and he decides to allow Kol at least another three beers that evening.

Because he's sitting on either side of the Petrova sisters.

Both of them rise when he approaches, performing the obligatory curtsey, Elena perfunctorily and Katerina somehow managing to make even obeisance an insult.

"Good," Kol announces, a little loudly, "You're here, Elena needs someone to dance with her and I've volunteered you."

He punctuates that statement with a sip on a champagne glass that has too many lipstick stains on it to have originally been his brother's.

"Of course," Elijah says smoothly, "It shall be my honour."

Elena's gracious smile is heart-warming and he turns his ear to the music, judging he has another two minutes before he needed to take her arm and escort her to the floor.

"And you, Katerina?" he asks, "Would you care to dance?"

Katerina's eyes are chocolate but somehow, her glare is the purest winter night, full of towering glaciers and deep snow with a harsh wind that seeped into your bones and warned you that you would never know warmth again.

"No thank-you." She answers, turning her face away and he feels the breath knocked out of his body as surely as if she'd punched him in the stomach.

"Oh, go on, Katty," Kol encourages, "Your only options tonight are 'Lijah, me or Nik and one of us is a terrible dancer and one of us has a busted kneecap and one of us actually bothered learning the steps."

Elena is half out of her seat, "You can have the next dance?" she offers politely, "I can wait."

"No."

Both Katerina and he give that negative in unison and for the briefest moment, he swears he sees a flash of hurt in her eyes, but then it's gone and he gives Elena his arm, "Shall we?"

As much as he wanted to speak to Katerina, if he didn't dance with Elena now, he might not have another opportunity for the rest of the night to choose his partner and he didn't want to deny her a simple pleasure.

Not if it was important to her.

She is an easy partner, letting him lead her around the floor and too taken with the thrill of dancing with a prince to try and flirt while they moved as his other partners had done. Instead, she gives breathy agreements and answers, with a pleasant smile on her face the entire time.

He wants to ask her to take the next dance with him as well, however, doing so would fuel gossip and eventually someone would leak it to the media, which would result in another…

Elena frowns as he misses a step and draws back quickly to save her foot from being trampled,

"Are you well, your highness?" she asks, clearly concerned and he manages a calm smile,

"I am fine," he assures her, glad when the music ends and he can escort her back to where he'd left Katerina and his brother, only to find both of them gone.

He doesn't see either of them for the rest of the night and when he gets back to the royal suites, it's to hear the sound of laughter coming from Nik's room. Curiously, he follows the sound and finds the doors to the receiving room open.

Inside, he first sees his brother sitting on the couch, an icepack on his knee, shaking his hand and casting dice.

When he moves further into the room, he sees the coffee table had been pushed out of the way and his siblings were gathered around a game board, along with Elena and Katerina.

And she was laughing at something Kol had said, looking so beautiful that he wants to intrude on the moment, force them to make him a part of this happiness, but fear of rejection freezes him in place.

Rebekah spots him first and beams happily, "We're playing Monopoly, big brother," she gushes, "Valhallan edition."

He makes a sound of interest and unbuttons his suit so he can crouch down and study the board, noting the locations, "I don't know those two places." he says, pointing to the two first addresses and Kol snickers, "Katty was just pointing out that none of us royals would have ever been there in our lives."

"That sounds like a challenge," Elijah jests, looking at her with a grin, "Shall we make a day of it?"

She raises her eyebrows, "It wouldn't take a day for you to be mugged and possibly stabbed in those areas, there's a reason you've never been there."

He shrugs, "Well, at least the media would have an actual story to report, instead of gossip about my love life."

"Your imaginary love life," Bekah interjects laughing, "Poor 'Lijah, who was it they said you were sleeping with?"

"A Miss Amber Bradley," he answers, watching Katerina for her response and feeling a sense of triumph when she drops her gaze, her cheeks flushing, as she plays with her game piece

"An exchange student I shared notes with for history class."

He had been right.

Katerina had seen that piece of tabloid trash and been jealous.

He bites his cheek so his grin isn't too obvious and barely hears Rebekah and Nik's gentle ribbing, excusing himself shortly afterwards and heading back to his room to plug his phone in to charge and wait for the text message.

And wait.

And wait.

It's two am when his phone buzzes, waking him up from his light doze and he winces as the button on his dress pants digs into his skin.

From: Katerina- 'I'm sorry.'

He runs a hand over his face, and blinks blearily at the bright screen.

He needs to get undressed, he needs to brush his teeth and get the taste of champagne out of his mouth, but he knows Katerina doesn't like to apologize, so he needs to think of a response that doesn't leave her hanging.

To: Katerina- 'Does this mean I get to be jealous the next time a boy makes you laugh?'

From: Katerina- 'Yes'

He leaves the conversation there and reluctantly pushes himself into a sitting position, thinking that at least there'll be hot water at two am. Still, despite his exhaustion and the lukewarm water, he can't help but wonder if Katerina's jealousy means that the two of them are going to become exclusive.

He likes the idea.

Stefan Salvatore found himself idly wondering whether the ancient right of kings to perform human sacrifice had ever actually been struck from the law books of Valhalla.

If not, Lucien Castle was in trouble.

Because the King was studying the man as if he could already see his throat slit and bloodied and naked corpse on the altar.

And Lucien was definitely picking up on the obvious signals, swallowing nervously and faltering in his speech as his eyes kept darting down to the king's fists.

The two of them are speaking rapid-fire French, which Stefan doesn't speak but he can understand the tones Elijah is using.

And he's not bothering to be quiet either.

Stefan still has his back to the curtain, blocking anyone trying to enter.

The twins are both watching him, trying to stare him down but Stefan is Giuseppe Salvatore's son and can meet their gazes impassively. He's not sure what's going on but he'd bet they were behind it and if Katerina told him not to let anyone into the box, then no-one was getting past him.

Well almost no-one.

Nik had shot out of his seat so fast that Stefan couldn't have blocked him even if he'd tried and Kol had damn near tackled him to the ground so he could go hit the bar.

But he figures the two of them weren't whom Katerina was concerned about.

The lights dim once and Lucien stands, bowing quickly to the King and nearly jogging backwards up the stairs in his haste to get away. Stefan lingers only until the lights dim again and people start taking their seats.

He bows politely to Finn and Freya, about to nod to Elijah but the King is facing the stage with his shoulders ramrod straight.

Concerned, Stefan backs out into the hallway and catches sight of Lucien storming along the near empty hallway.

Catching up to him takes just enough effort for Stefan to know that something was definitely wrong.

"Hey," he stops and nearly puts a hand on his arm before remembering that they'd only just met, "You okay?"

"Oh wonderful," Lucien snaps, spittle landing on his lips as he glares daggers at everything in sight,

"My trip to Valhalla certainly wouldn't have been complete without hearing a firsthand account of how your King took Katty's virginity on a patch of grass hours before her debutante ball."

What?!

"Uh…" Stefan flounders, "He…he's probably jealous and hopefully a little drunk…but you were Katerina's first boyfriend, right?"

He seems to remember Elena mentioning him at some point, please let that be true because the alternative was Elijah telling that story to every guy Katerina was friendly with.

And he knows that the Royal family, press office and Ansel had worked way too hard to stop the actual timeline of their relationship from becoming common knowledge.

"Apparently not her first, to hear Elijah brag about it…god, I've met entitled pricks in my time, but…"

"He's a King." Stefan points out, defending Elijah out of patriotic pride, affection for Klaus' siblings and because he knew for a fact that the lese-majeste laws were still in effect.

"He's an arse," Lucien rebuts and steps back, "I'm going to go back to my box, thanks for everything."

Stefan shakes his hand and clears his throat, trying to think of something to say but nothing came to mind, so he beats a quick retreat, back to his family's box where he could hopefully check out until it was time to go home.

Except when he gets back there, it's to find his seat had been stolen by Klaus, who for the life of him, couldn't seem to take his eyes off Caroline. To the amusement of Elena who was sitting beside him, completely invisible.

Stefan moved slightly to catch her attention and she turns in her seat, rolling her eyes and then almost silently, gathering her skirts and joining him in the hallway,

"Hey," she giggled, stretching up to kiss his cheek, "Where'd you go?"

"Oh, you know," he answers vaguely, "Performing royal duties, and committing duplicitous schemes and the like."

Elena raises her eyebrows, "Ok, well, Nadia's with my parents till tomorrow afternoon, so you wanna get drunk and flirty at the bar?"

He grins, "Oh definitely."

She slips her arm through his and they laugh as they quickly descend the stairs.

When the curtains fell on the stage for the final time, the cast having been applauded throughout their presentation, Katherine leaned over and smacked Kol's arm.

"Your mission for the next twenty or so minutes is to get me to Elijah," she tells him, trying to make her movements graceful as she tilts on the edge between pleasantly buzzed and actually drunk.

"Without me tripping, falling down stairs or looking like trash."

Kol snorts into his champagne glass, "Between the two of us we don't even make one semi-sober person." He comments, but stands with a fluid skill born of much practise under similar circumstances and offers her his arm,

"Milady." he bows and nearly loses his footing and she covers her mouth as she laughs,

"We're so screwed," she gushes as she puts her hand in his, letting him draw her up and tuck it under his arm, and she can feel the heat radiating through his shirt, which reminds her that he's left his jacket behind in the box they were now sweeping out of.

She looks over her shoulder to Lucien, "Call me!" she manages before she loses sight of him in the crowd.

A crowd of people chatting loudly about how great the play had been although she'd doubted half of them had ever bothered taking their eyes of the royal box.

She hadn't even seen much of the second half, she'd been too distracted by Kol and Lucien whispering in her ear, or bickering with each other.

It had been the most fun she'd had on a royal outing since…well, ever.

Elijah is waiting for her at the top of the staircase, Rebekah hovering eagerly at his elbow but when she touches it, leaning up to speaking to him, he pulls his arm away and Katherine can't hear what he said but she can see the way he snaps at her and she reels back, obviously surprised before recovering her composure, aware of the public gaze.

Elijah turns away from her and sees Katherine and Kol approaching, he strides forward and holds out his hands, Katherine giving him her left hand and after a moment, manages to slide her right out from under Kol's arm, "Wasn't it, wonderful?" she asks, giggling at the lack of amusement on his face,

"Spectacular," he agrees, "Could not take my eyes off the stage."

He smells of alcohol, a hint of cologne and sweat and when she looks properly into his eyes, she can see he's no more sober than she is.

He kisses her right hand and slides his fingers through the left, and begins leading her downstairs, his fingers are trailing lightly on the railing as they descend, or appear to be, she knows that he's putting pressure on those digits to keep himself steady and prevent tripping over his feet.

She scans the crowd for her sister but can't see her anywhere, although she thinks she catches a glimpse of Giuseppe, before Elijah pauses by the doors, where Aiden is waiting with a concierge to slide Elijah's jacket onto his frame and Katherine's stole is draped over her shoulders.

It provides absolutely no warmth against the oncoming winter but it looks pretty and they'd be in the car soon enough.

The Rolls Royce is waiting with open doors and the royal family descends the stairs, Elijah stepping to the side to hand Katherine into the car and she shifts over to the middle seat to make room when the slam of the door startles her.

And Klaus, who had been about to climb in after her.

Confused, she looks around to see Elijah sliding in the other door, and pulling that closed after him as well, "Go." He orders the driver curtly and after only a second hesitation, the man pulls out onto the empty road.

Katherine looks over her shoulder to see a rabble of royals left standing outside in the cold night air, but she knows that they'll simply take the next car in line.

And this way, she doesn't have to deal with Rebekah.

Leaning her head back, she exhales through her nostrils and lets her hand fall to her side, where it is quickly snatched up by Elijah. She turns her head to give him a lopsided smile and he leans over, stealing a fierce kiss before she can realize. She chuckles, "I love you." she tells him and he stares at her, "And I, you." He replies.

Her hand is trapped in his as he moves it onto his leg, and then a little further north. He pauses as they reach a red light, letting her make the next move.

Which is to delve into his lap until she finds what she's looking for.

She runs her hand over his length, stroking him through the layers of fabric and keeping her expression placid, even turning to look out the window so the driver and bodyguard wouldn't realize what they were doing.

"Take the car around to the Cousin's Palace," Elijah orders the driver, "I'll see Lady Katerina home and then walk back."

Katherine bites her cheek to keep from smirking and moves her hand down to his knee when they reach the palace gates, the paparazzi swarming around the car to push their cameras against the windows and the resulting flashes are blinding, but she makes an effort to smile even as her eyes are watering in protest. The gates open, the car slides through and the shouts are lost to the night.

The driver is discreet and drives the car around the palace, rolling to a stop by the back doors, which at the very least means the paparazzi wouldn't be able to photograph the King going inside.

It also meant that when Elijah helped her out of the car, he pulled her against him instantly, and they kiss as the vehicle rumbles away, his erection hard against her thigh.

His hands grip her arms and she's sliding her hands over his shoulders, bending her knees slightly so he'll pick her up, holding her so they can kiss each other easier, deeper.

She wants to wrap her legs around him but that's not happening in a ballgown.

Especially when the night air hits her and her nipples aren't hardening because of arousal.

"Inside," she gasps, pulling away from him, "I'm freezing."

He chuckles lightly, "I can think of a way to warm us up."

Wrinkling her nose, she nips playfully at his lips, "Not funny, you're wearing a shirt, I'm wearing strapless silk ballgown that protects nothing…inside if you want to finish the night…inside."

He laughs at that, turning his face as he does so, but she sees his eyes shining in the night and kisses his cheek bone impulsively.

It's her last act before he sets her on the ground and she takes three steps, his hand wrapped up in hers before she realizes that she's going the wrong way, headed towards the garden instead of to the palace.

He doesn't move and she stops, unable to shift his weight and he jerks his head, showing her the right direction- and the giant building should have been a giveaway- and she begins moving again.

The pebbles scatter underneath her heels, which are beginning to rub on her little toe and she is really, really cold, to the point where she's beginning to sober up and lose her buzz.

Fortunately, when they reach the doors, opened by a discreet page who quickly disappears into a back office, the loss of the wind chill is enough comfort for her to pause on the first step and pivot back into his embrace.

He feels safe.

But also, horny.

And one hand is pulling her dress up over her legs, sliding up her knees before delving between her thighs and the silk spills over his wrist, up to his forearm, leaving him searching blindly, but he finds what he's looking for.

His fingers push into her before she's entirely ready and she flinches slightly, which he picks up on, withdrawing to stroke her folds and tease her as she puts her hands on his shoulders for balance, waiting for her quick nod before he slips a finger back inside her again.

She likes to think that she's tipsy enough to be openly engaged in foreplay with the King of Valhalla on the back stairwell of a Palace that is still only at half-staffed, but the fact that she's worrying at every sound that they were about to be caught by a guard probably suggested otherwise.

So, even though she's riding Elijah's hand and kissing his neck, she tries to pull away from him,

"Take me to bed," she entreats, "I want you to."

He pouts sulkily, "Why? This is my palace, I should be able to kiss you and have you wherever I want."

She scoffs, "Our palace and staff aside, there might be a courtier or two around who aren't bound by non-disclosure agreements."

He rolls his eyes, "We've been engaged for five years, who cares if you're not a virgin?"

The media.

The public.

The politicians looking to score easy points by commenting on the issue.

The courtiers who would call her a slut behind her back for having been stupid enough to be caught.

Katherine only smiles flirtatiously and her fingers begin undoing his bowtie,

"I want to be in a bed with you," she whispers, "Like we're already married."

He cups her face in her hands and kisses her forehead tenderly, "Less than a year to go."

She smirks, tucking the silk into his jacket pocket and unbuttoning his shirt, "Is there? My darling husband?"

He lets her take him by the hand, finding the direction a lot easier this time as she climbs up the stairs, pausing at the top to hold onto his arm as she took off her shoes and walked barefoot down the carpet.

As per the rules, the lights in the hallway were never turned off while she was out, only dimmed until an hour after she had returned. They provided just enough of an amber glow for her to see Elijah and her in the reflection of the windows, looking like two ghosts.

She has a moment of panic when she reaches the doors to her apartment that people might be inside, her family or some 'friends' but the only thing she finds is a bright blue post-it-note from Caroline that Elijah has to hold up to the lights and read for her.

"She's skyping her parents tomorrow." He informs her and she nods,

"She told me that earlier." she comments, remembering Caroline practically bouncing around the dressing room as her father watched, waiting until she had got within reach to snatch up her wrist and take her pulse.

Strangely, that fluorescent blue interruption had changed the air between them, turning it from pure lust into an almost domestic tenderness. Elijah opens the door for her and the two of them slip into the drawing room, glancing around to ensure they were alone before striding straight through to her bedroom.

Katherine stops before her mirror and begins unzipping her dress, not bothering to try and make it sexy as Elijah perches on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes.

In lieu of Aiden, he's forced to pick up his own clothes and ducks into the bathroom to drape them over one of the blue velvet couches. Returning only in his boxers and Katherine feels her arousal returning.

She's stripped down, leaving her dress messily folded and tossed into a hamper, before padding over to the bed and beginning to remove the vast number of decorative pillows. Elijah stands behind her, his hands on her hips as he kisses her shoulder and the back of her neck, his erection against her backside, making her quiver with desire as she folds back the duvet and slides between the sheets.

He follows a bare second after her, stopping only long enough to leave his boxers on the ground and lying on his side as he kisses her hungrily, his skin warm against hers and she slides a leg over his hip, humming as she feels the head of his penis against her thigh.

"Lube," she gasps, "Drawer."

He reaches blindly behind him, winces as he pulls his shoulder and she leans over him, making him moan as he breasts pressed against his chest and her arousal teased the tip of his penis.

The lube is supposedly tropical fruit flavoured, not that she plans on finding out, squeezing a generous amount onto her hand and settling back to stroke Elijah's penis, making him buck into her hand, before she squeezes some more onto her vagina, in and around her entrance before throwing the bottle onto the floor. She settles back onto her side and drapes an arm over his shoulder as he massaged her left breast,

"Ready?" he asks, carefully, and she nods, kissing him as he pushed inside her slowly, taking his time in case he encountered any resistance. When he reaches the hilt, he draws out again and runs a hand through her hair, stroking it back behind her ear and beginning to thrust.

Once, Katherine had used to close her eyes during sex or position herself so that she could look over a shoulder or not have to make eye contact at all.

It had always felt weird, but she'd been younger than, now, she can feel lose herself in Elijah's eyes as they have sex.

Or make love. She supposes this is love making, even when he rolls onto his back and she begins riding him, speeding up slightly and leaning back as she seeks out her climax, slowing down again and clenching her walls as she lifted herself up to find his finish.

She drapes herself on his chest as they catch their breath in the aftermath and she allows herself to stop thinking about etiquette and public image for a foolish moment.

"Stay," she mumbles, kissing his nose, "Sleep with me."

His answering grumble is either assent or the lack show of resistance before sleep claims him and his hand slides off her buttocks.

Less than a kilometre away, with a harsh light coming from his phone, Logan Fell was sitting at his office desk and cracking his knuckles before beginning to type his revenge.

A/N- Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!