Sam was assigned to protect the king's daughter.


I stepped forward seeing the woman being led through the hall. To my fellow guard, I volunteer, "I can escort her. Her father wants to speak with her in the parlour."

Five years as their guard, and I was still learning the language of the first class. I liked how flashy the words sounded, but it was weird to have them come out of my mouth. I was from the southern region of my country, and we didn't call a room a "parlour," and "escorting" was a job that you'd pray your kids didn't join.

"There she is, my hero." Miles opened his arms for his sister to run into. "How did you get out this time?"

Princess Mercedes was headstrong and had become infamous for sneaking out of the palace. She was just returning home from her two week long disappearing act. She only told three guards where she was going. She made them swear to never tell, and when she was ready to return home, they could look like heroes for finding her.

She smirked, "Just takes a little planning." Over a glass of whiskey, she gossiped about all she missed while outside. She loved her brother, and he was all that she missed.

The king marched into the room and was frustrated at the sight of his children. "Drinking this early in the day?" he noted, shaking his head.

"We're locked in with you," Miles countered. "You should be glad it's not a mountain of cocaine."

Mercedes' laughter was cut short by a glare. "Hello, Father." She stood and greeted the king the way she was taught. "You look dashing today," she said with a tight smile. She returned to her seat and waited for her father to speak his business.

He glared down at the two populating the sofa. "What do I always tell you?"

Miles and Mercedes were constantly criticized. Some points were reasonable like "sit straight" or "you're showing too much skin." Other times, they were just targets for their father's anger and had to take bullets like "you're a disappointment to me and your country."

He continued on with his point. "The crown is heavy, and I see that neither of you are ready to carry it. You are not responsible. Miles comes in after curfew, and Mercedes, you don't come home at all. Where have you been?" he asked as if she'd tell the truth.

"At peace."

At that point, I was asked to leave the room. I returned to my post and monitored the grounds. I would occasionally wander upstairs to check if the princess had snuck past me. I was only sure she was in her room when the door was cracked. I entered and closed the door behind me. "Welcome home," I finally greeted her.

"I won't be here for long. We have a benefit tonight, but I'm leaving tomorrow," she warned. "I believe that you're off duty. Can you pass the message on?"

"I wouldn't mind. I want you to get out safely."

I was hired to protect the royal family, but I was more cautious with the princess. I had accepted that protecting her might be the end of me. I kept her as close as she would let me: that was pretty close. I liked to think that I was so protective of her because she was the only woman in her family, but truthfully, it was deeper than that.

"How was your meeting with your father?"

If they had discussed something confidential, she would refuse to answer. "He wishes that Malcolm was here. We all do."

Malcolm was the oldest of the royal children. He was the perfect son that was going to be a perfect king. He had the patience for the part. He was focused on his studies while his siblings got leniency. Sadly he passed away from sickness, and no one was prepared for the dramatic changes that followed.

"Thank you for checking on me, Mr. Evans, but you should be downstairs."

Mercedes was renting an apartment less than four miles away from her family. She allowed us to do our job and find every route there, but she refused to keep a guard with her. She didn't let us past the door until the night that she came home to every light in the apartment turned on.

I ordered her to squat by the door. Reaching for the gun at my side, I turned the safety off. "Come out slowly with your hands up," I directed the intruder. I inspect the living room.

The king was led out of the bedroom by two guards. He was done with his tour. "Mercedes, I knew you had an impeccable taste. Every room is beautifully decorated. Unfortunately, you have to give it all up,"

"Hell no," she quickly argued. She was never afraid to stand toe to toe with her father, but that was the first time I had heard her curse. She asked how he knew where the apartment was.

"New GPSs were installed on the cars. We retraced your activities from yesterday." He repeated, "You're selling your appointment. There are too many windows and hiding places."

After minutes of arguing, they began to negotiate.

"I will keep my apartment and come home every weekend and weeknight when there's an event."

The king shook his head. "Absolutely not. You get one weeknight so you can't go out and get into trouble. Guards-"

"This is my slice of a normal life. I can't have three or four guards watching my every move," she countered. She made her final offer. "Three weeknight. One bodyguard." She approved five guards that would rotate shifts; she chose ones that were the softest on her.

"No."

"Yes. It's settled," she declared. She volunteered me for that night. She kissed her father goodnight and showed him the door.

I explored the appointment for any threat. "Clear," I announced, giving full access. I leave to stand guard in the building's hallway. I was in front of the door and refused to let anything pass me.

After a minute, Mercedes peeked out at me. "You know it's not normal to be in the hall all night. You can protect me just fine from inside." She waved me in and locked the door. "I promise you that there's no danger. When we're here, I'm just Mercedes, and you're…" She paused, realizing that she didn't know my first name.

"Sam."

She echoed my name with a smile. "It's fitting." She flashed a take out menu and asked, "Well, Sam, are you hungry."

Mercedes treated the guards like roommates instead of her protectors, and we learned a lot about her. She liked burgers and tater tots- she loved tots. The princess that had a dress for every day of the year preferred jeans and leggings. When she wasn't under her father's watch, she would push the limits as far as we would allow her.

There was a nightclub that Mercedes liked. It opened once a week in a different location. It was exclusive to celebrities, billionaires, and royals on vacation. The rich were free to party, and all secrets would be left behind.

She wasn't happy that I wore my suit to the club; it was my uniform. "Leave the gun in the car," she ordered. "There's enough security inside." She led the way and didn't move slowly as she beelined for her brother's section.

Miles was too distracted to give his sister any attention. He was wrapped in the arms of the man that was sucking on his lips. When he noticed me, he quickly split from him as if the space would make me unsee what I had seen. He could see the headline flashing: Gay Future King?

Mercedes waved off the worry. "No, he's cool." She pulled me to sit beside her. She began to pour a drink from the bottle that the others neglected, and I took a look at my surroundings.

The club was definitely different from what I had back home. The DJ kept the beats loud. There were enough flashing colored lights to give someone a seizure. The dance floor was crowded and looked like a dry humping orgy.

"Don't worry, have fun, and drink," she ordered. She fitted my fingers around a glass. "I'm going to dance."

I spent the rest of the night chasing after Mercedes. I found her on the floor and lost her at the bar. I found her at the bar, and god only knows where she went after that. I was worried about her, and for the first time, I realized how difficult my job could be. I finally got to take her home around two o'clock.

Even as she leaned on me, the intoxicated princess dragged. She gasped when she entered the apartment. "I'm home." Mercedes turned and wrapped her arms around my neck. She studied my face and professed, "You are so beautiful."

"Both of me?" I joked, earning a nod. I had my fair share of drunken nights, and knew Mercedes was going to pay the next morning. "Let's get you to bed." I rested her on her side and then brought in a chair from the dining table. I monitored her all night, and when the sun began to rise, I convinced myself that she was safe enough to be alone.

A moment later, Mercedes stumbled into the kitchen. "Where are my shoes?" She loves all of her shoes, and even with a hangover, she feared losing a pair.

"I put them in the corner. You didn't let me take off your jacket," I explained to the girl still in her outfit from the night before. I had spent time preparing for when she woke up: closing the curtains, making breakfast, and getting aspirin.

"I had never drunk that much," she announced as she sunk into a seat. She took the medication and food. "Please say that I didn't say anything stupid like Miles does when he's drinking."

"No." I took the seat across the table.

When she was feeling well enough to hold a conversation, she started, "Tell me a story." It wasn't uncommon for her to use me to fill the silence. She got a good laugh out of my silly memories; I didn't mind sharing. She prompted, "Did you always want to work security?"

"I wanted to be a pirate. Cartoons made it seem like the perfect job: at sea with friends and no parents," I admitted. "If I could lift it, then I buried it. I used to draw maps for my parents to follow. My dad was so tired of me taking his work boots that he started to put them on a shelf that he thought I couldn't reach… I got a stool."

Maybe she was still too hungover to laugh. She never shared any of her childish stories. When I built up the courage to ask her why I was doing all the talking, she confessed, "I'm trying to figure you out. You seem so perfect. I want to know if you're able to make mistakes."

"A mistake could cost both of our lives. If something happened to you, then I wouldn't be able to live with myself." I meant every word, but saying it wasn't appropriate. "My job is to protect-" I quickly stood when the door opened.

Her father marched into the apartment. He ignored me at first. "Mercedes, where is your brother?" He was stern but got angrier as his daughter played coy.

Miles didn't come home that night. He had abandoned the traceable car in an empty parking lot. He was with his boyfriend, and that was where he would stay for three days.

The king glared at me. "Why aren't you at your post?" He sent me and his two guards out. He was alone with Mercedes and free to say whatever he wanted to.

With my ear against the door, I tried to hear what was going on. I knew how low he could go. Sadly, I couldn't hear anything.

"Attention!" Puck chuckled as I straightened and took position. He wasn't taking the moment as seriously as the other guard that was intensely watching for the elevator doors to open. He leaned against the wall and promised, "You're not going to hear them. I swear they only whisper at each other."

Puck became a guard only a little while before me. He was a year older than me- the same age as Mercedes. He helped Mercedes escape the first time. He was the most lenient guard, so she kept him around more than anyone.

Puck bragged about never being caught away from his post. "He shows up at the same time. I come out five minutes before." He was pleasing Mercedes and the king.

The king always visited the appointment the morning after Mercedes' first night. He would arrive at nine, and their meeting would last for ten to thirty minutes. His mission was to upset his daughter enough that she'd return home sooner than they agreed.

"I'm willing to bet my paycheck that she's going to cry in the shower." He argued, "Hell no, it's not normal, but who's going to stand up to a king?" He needed his job, but Mercedes needed someone to go easy on her. He never wanted to be another person that jumped down her throat about every move she made.

"Do you talk to her about it?"

"For a while, and then she starts watching TV." He moved the conversation to a lighter subject. "Has she taken you to that club she likes? I would love to see you in a nightclub," teased Puck.

"I'm not that stiff."

Puck disagreed. In his head, he had painted a picture of me dancing offbeat. "I have to see it." He was close to falling over with laughter. "No place will top that one, but I will find one for our next break."

We stood in the hall talking for the rest of the time. We only quieted down when we thought the king was exiting the apartment. Thirty minutes felt like seconds.

I was supposed to stay another day with Mercedes; the other guards were traveling with the king to meet more world leaders. I stood outside of the apartment until the coast was clear. I was warned, so I couldn't be surprised that Mercedes was locked in the bathroom. I knocked on the door, sure that I could be heard over the running water.

Thirty minutes was more than enough time to shower.

Mercedes didn't rush. She turned off the shower and still resisted coming out for another five minutes. She opened the door with her head hung low. Not expecting me to be standing so close, she nearly crashed into me. She whispered an apology. Clenching the top of her robe, she squeezed past me.

From that moment on, I made almost only wrong-headed decisions.

I followed her into her bedroom, but I kept my distance by staying near the entrance. "Are you okay?" I asked from across the room. Like always, I was ready to listen to anything she was willing to say.

She had a moment of pause. "My father, the first man God gave me, is the only person that can make me feel like I'm falling apart. I'm his only daughter. He is supposed to love me and protect me from everything that you and the other bodyguards can't." She had a lot of emotions to unload. She spoke from her heart, and her pain flashed in her eyes. Finally finished, she breathed, "I just want to feel like I'm good enough for him."

"You are enough." I closed the gap between us and stopped right in front of her. "If your dad believes even a single thing he's said to you, then he's crazy."

She pouted, "but I'm not Malcolm."

"Because you're Mercedes," I argued. I took her face in my hands like my mom used to do with me. I needed her to listen- really listen. Looking into her brown eyes, I announced, "You're smart, genuine, and so beautiful. You are brave, and you do things that make me worry. No one is perfect, but you're amazing." Again, I was saying inappropriate things, but I refused to take it back or twist my words.

She smirked and her eyes brightened. "Thank you." She stared up at me as she thought through her next move. She leaned forward and longingly kissed me; her lips were sweet and warm. She kissed me lightly at first, then more passionately.

My hands moved to her sides and pulled her close to me. They were tickled by the plush threads of her robe, but I knew her skin would be just as soft. My fingers inched towards the robe's belt. They waited for permission to pass.

Soon I was in bed with Mercedes, and the only cover between us was my underwear. I was propped over her by my forearm. I let my other hand wander her curves before settling on her large breasts. Kissing along her neck, I could hear every breath that passed her lips.

"I want to know how it feels to make love."

I froze. I needed a moment before I could look at her. "What?" I asked as if she had switched languages.

Looking into my green eyes, she knew I heard her clearly. She wasn't going to shyly take back her words. She said what she meant but rephrased it. "I want you to make love to me."

That one sentence meant everything to me.

Mercedes wanted me. She thought of me to be more than just an employee. She trusted me enough to have a part of her that she could never have back.

I lowered the band of my shorts, and my cock was twitching from the excitement. I nudged her thighs further apart. After I returned to my position, my cock seemed drawn right to her entrance. Gradually, I inched deeper into her womanhood until I felt her body stiffen under me.

She didn't expect to feel so much pressure as her hymen was stretched and strained open for the first time. She explained, "It's a little uncomfortable." Although I offered, she declined stopping.

"Relax," I encouraged. I reclaimed her lips and whisked her to a place of so much passion that she neglected the ache. I moved forward, taking her virginity with the gentleness and sweetness that she'd deserved. Once I was deep inside, I paused so we could revel in the feeling; her walls were closed around my member like a glove, hugging me tightly. Slowly I drew back my hips until I was nearly out of her and then gently slid back in.

Seconds later, she began to moan against my lips. She held me closer, her breasts rising against me. She wanted more, regardless of her feeling that she didn't quite know what to do.

My hips worked and found a quicker rhythm. In the midst of passion, the thrust of my body could not be controlled. My veins were filled with the desire for that woman.

When I broke the kiss to taste more of her chocolate colored skin, cries of pleasure flowed from her lips as if they had been waiting to break free. "Oh, Sam." She spread her fingers of one hand over my back, and the other five drove through the dark blonde hairs in the back of my head. She overlooked all logic and rules, more desperate to feel raw passion. She whimpered and whined from under her bodyguard. "Please, please don't stop."

I groaned back with her. Continuing to take her, I slipped my hand between our bodies to tease her clit. I knew she needed something softer, an extra drop of pleasure. I began to focus on getting her to a climax. I wanted to watch her reaction more than I liked being the cause.

Her pleasure rose and coursed through her, tipping her sweetly over the edge of orgasm. Her breaths left her quicker and from a deeper place. Her small hands scratched at me. Her body arched, and her short neck was more exposed as her chin lifted. Her lips locked in an open oval. Her only word was "oh."

I could hardly continue through her walls that squeezed tighter. I tried to last until her climax declined, but I felt my body growing tight and heavy. I pulled out of Mercedes with only a second to spare before my cock uncontrollably fired strings of my seed on her thighs. Exhausted, I rolled on to the bed next to her.

She studied the sticky mess that we both contributed to. She had a look of confusion and panic; growing up with private tutors, the subject of sex education wasn't a priority. It took her a silly moment to realize that we were both fine. She left the bed to clean herself off.

For the rest of the day, Mercedes and I were attached to each other. Our hearts were filled and lifted. We created a fantasy where we could love without hesitation, but the next morning, we were back to being a princess and her guard.

Miles followed me to his father's office. He was ready for a stand off and was defensive from the entrance. He had gotten all his father's messages and calls and was aware of the hunt for him. He only acknowledged his sister.

The king had been boiling since his son left. He pointed at me and blatantly ordered, "Leave." He glared at Miles from across the desk.

I didn't take a single step towards the door. I could see that my services might've been needed. For the first time, I was seeing the king's rage towards his children with my own eyes. I was a fly on the wall that no one gave any attention to.

"Where have you been? I have spent countless hours looking for you."

"Yet you knew where I was." Miles didn't hide his sexuality from his father; it was their biggest point of conflict. "I'm sure you have directions."

"That boy is trying to ruin you," the king argued. "You will never take my place with him by your side."

Mercedes tried to turn the conversation back to business. She tapped her pen against her pad. "The charities are-"

Her father wanted her to stay silent and in her place. "Mercedes, I've warned you of interrupting me." He returned to his son. In anger, he clenched his teeth so tight that they could've cracked under the pressure.

Mercedes was shy to speak again. She began, "Can we please-"

"I'm talking!" he shot at his daughter, causing her to sink in her seat. "I wish Malcolm was still alive so I wouldn't have to put up with you two…" he had a list of words he wanted to put in that blank.

"But he isn't. You had us, but we're tired of you. We are done living under your thumb." Miles was expecting an immediate amen from his sister, but he got silence. "Right, Mercedes?"

She stood and pulled him further from the desk. In a whisper, she begged, "Please, Miles, think about what you're saying- what you're doing."

He nodded, seeing that her decision was made. "I'm not going to drag you out by your feet. I am leaving, and I hope you find happiness here." He patted her on the shoulder and turned. He was removing himself from that family and walking away from his royal title. He wanted a life where he could call the shots.

Mercedes stared at the door, wishing her brother would walk back through. She was deaf to her name that was repeatedly called. She had to be physically turned for her attention to return to her father.

"Those charities…" He spoke like his son was never there. He knew Miles would have rejected them eventually; he just kept putting pressure on him and waiting. He had bigger ideas for his daughter, and when one of his plans walked in, he smiled. "Tank, welcome. I was expecting your parents to be at your side."

The man nodded in understanding. "They'll be here soon. I never miss the first flight out." He happily shook the king's hand. He tried to greet the girl with her gaze down, but she was dazed.

Mercedes was pulled out of her seat. Standing, she finally noticed the guest. "Hello." She smiled, and the show began.

Tank was a child of royalty; his country wasn't far from ours. He had so many siblings before him that he couldn't even fantasize about the crown. He didn't know it at first, but he was only brought in for Mercedes.

The king looked at me, and assumed that I came in with Tank. He released me to take a position outside and watched as I left. He spent that time encouraging the young adults to bond.

Mercedes pushed on with forced enthusiasm. When the meeting was over, she rushed to her brother's room to find it unpopulated. When I entered her room, she was sitting at her vanity, chin resting in her hand. She didn't have to open her eyes to know it was me. "He's gone."

I breathed, "Yeah." I saw him leaving with a bag. I closed the door and promised to be a listening ear.

She slowly exhaled and opened her eyes. "I'm scared to be alone," Mercedes admitted. She watched my reflection. "Please don't leave me… ever."

I promised her that I wouldn't. I couldn't leave her to suffer her father alone. I wanted to be someone she could confide in.

She turned her seat and tiredly smirked at me. "I'm glad that I have someone I can trust." She stood. As she approached me, her arms extended out: I wasn't sure if she was coming in for a hug or a kiss, but I couldn't let it happen.

I wasn't going to abandon her, but I couldn't give her the type of relationship she deserved. I took responsibility for what we did in her apartment. For my job, I should have controlled myself. I refused to let it happen again. I couldn't let her father know.

Mercedes was definitely hurt. "Mr. Do No Wrong," she called me. "You wouldn't want my father to know that you have feelings that have little to do with your job?" she challenged.

I couldn't think of an argument.

"My father used to tell me that I was more trouble than I was worth. He said that no man would want me for more than my body." She backed away from me. "Thank you for being the first to prove him right."

I was quick to object to that. "No, I care about you, and-"

"Just go away." Tottering towards her closet, she huffed, "I'm tired, but I have to dress for our dinner guests."

A month later, Mercedes and Tank announced their engagement. They sat in the garden and gave their first interview as a couple. They had created a relationship timeline that was longer than it really was. They smiled, laughed, and proved themselves as great actors.

When asked, Tank gave the date of their first meeting as the day he proposed. "We've spoken of marriage, but no moment felt better. We were surrounded by our parents when I got on one knee."

"Before he could ask, I said yes."

He laughed, "It would have been a disaster if I was just tying my shoelaces." He was asked about his brothers' opinions towards his fiance. "They understand my feelings towards Mercedes. It is always a joyful moment when our family expands."

"And Miles, what are his thoughts? Has he heard the news?" the interviewer asked, believing that their prince was volunteering in a poverty stricken country.

Mercedes' smile tightened. "Yes, He was the first person I told. He is happy for me," she lied. She hadn't heard a word from him since he left.

The interview was twenty minutes long, but before ending, the interviewer had to ask about the ring.

The ring was an oval lavender sapphire. It was rare and expensive. Purple was Mercedes's favorite color, and she always wanted a piece with that stone. Her engagement ring was her chance to have her childhood dream come true.

When their microphones were off, they excused themselves. They walked out of earshot, but I had a clear view. They talked and laughed. Were they genuine, or were they putting on because the camera was still spying on them?

I watched them and fought to control myself. When she stretched to kiss his cheek, I felt my leg twitch. I wanted to snatch them apart, but I didn't want to embarrass her. I took a calming breath and started towards them. I warned Mercedes of her plans and that she would be late if we didn't leave that minute.

She took Tank's hand; his skin the same tone as hers. "Will you come with me?" she asked and received a nod. As fast as I rushed her to the car, she didn't let him fall behind.

After I opened the car door, Tank stood across from me, letting Mercedes in first. He made eye contact, and could see something dark in me. He didn't know that it was my love for Mercedes turning into jealousy- borderline hatred- of him. Thankfully it was short, and he joined her in the car.

When Tank finally asked where they were going, Mercedes answered, "There's an orphanage not far. I like to visit when I can- every three weeks or so." The corners of her lips drooped as she studied Tank's still face. "I promise you that the kids are great, but if you don't-"

He stopped her. "No, I'm happy to go." He let her rave about the kids. "Have you thought about children of your own?"

"I've always wanted three children," she quickly answered. She wanted to be like her mother. "But one is a blessing."

I was in the passenger seat, too distracted by the two in the rearview mirror to notice the pothole that the driver was speeding over. Even with a concussion, I couldn't be positive. I wanted the driver to hit every pothole and speed bump. I wanted the ride to be as uncomfortable as possible.

Six months dragged by, and everyone was preparing for the royal wedding that was only two days away. Every move of that day was rehearsed until it was flawless. "The future queen deserved nothing but the best," workers would say.

I slowly entered the room, and my breath was stolen when I saw her in her wedding dress. I hesitated to close the door. I never felt so uncomfortable to be alone with her. Shyly, I complimented, "You look beautiful."

She smiled and joked about missing her tiara. She struggled to step around the yards of cloth that was her train. "How can I help you, Mr. Evans?" She was doing a great job at keeping our relationship professional- better than me.

I held out the velvet box and announced, "Your father asked me to give you this."

She opened the box and studied the diamond necklace. "I don't know if I should smile or cry," she said more to herself than me. She knew it would have taken a special occasion for her to get her mother's necklace, but she hoped it would have been her coronation.

I couldn't bite my tongue any longer. "Why are you marrying him?"

'Because we were told to' was not enough of an answer.

Mercedes nibbled at her bottom lip as she tried to justify why she was marrying a man that was still a stranger. "He's really nice, and our parents said that love will come."

Why should she have to wait to fall in love with him when I loved her at that minute?

I objected, "You don't have to-."

"I want to," she interrupted. She took a seat in the corner. She stared at the jewelry, her finger petting the velvet. She was finally starting to feel the weight of her actions, and all it took was someone to challenge her. Before I could leave her alone with her thoughts, she stopped me. Shakily, she asked, "Sam, when you used to bury things, do you think you ever forgot something?"

"You never forget."

To be the submissive wife, she had to bury all the best things about herself. She could put it as far down as she wanted, but it was only going to mold into anger. At heart she wasn't timid and quiet, and neither of us could see her act lasting forever.

"I can't think here," she huffed. She wanted to go for a drive with Puck- only Puck. She asked me to pass the message, but I should have known that something was up.

Again Puck helped her get away. He had disabled the GPS in the car and swept her away. Sure she was safe and happy, he had no guilt for what he did and continued to work. He was never questioned by the king, and he put up a fight when I asked where she was.

She had left an apologetic letter for Tank and left with only her mother's necklace. She was living near the coastline under an alias. She wasn't worried about being found out. She was at peace among the locals.


Thanks for reading.

When I start a one shot, I think its the best idea, but by the middle, my confidence is gone. I've started and restarted so many times, but thank you for being patient.