THIRTY ONE

I've never seen anger quite so strong. Edward's father glares at us both.

"If this were another century both of your heads would be on fucking spikes," he growls.

Edward winces at his father's words, but I stand my ground. The old man's face is beet red, veins bulging at his temples. His fists clench and unclench at his sides as if he's imagining wrapping them around our necks.

"Father, please," Edward says, his voice barely above a whisper. "We didn't mean any harm."

"Harm?" his father bellows. "You've brought shame upon this entire family! Consorting with... with..." He gestures wildly in my direction, unable or unwilling to even speak my name.

I lift my chin defiantly. "With me, your majesty. Edward has done nothing wrong."

The old man's eyes narrow dangerously. "Nothing wrong? Nothing wrong?! You dare to stand there and—"

He's cut off by a fit of coughing, doubling over as his anger quite literally takes the breath out of him.

"Sweetheart," the Queen touches his back, "calm down. Listen here. Bella is loved by the world. If you want to protect the monarchy you need to let this happen."

The King's coughing subsides, but his fury remains undiminished. He straightens, brushing off the Queen's comforting hand.

"Let this happen?" he spits. "Have you lost your mind, woman? This... this commoner will be the death of everything we've built!"

I feel Edward tense beside me, his hand finding mine and squeezing it tightly. The gesture doesn't go unnoticed by his father, whose eyes narrow to slits.

"You," he hisses, pointing a trembling finger at me. "You've bewitched him. Turned him against his own blood."

"Father, that's not—" Edward begins, but the King silences him with a look.

"I won't stand for it," he declares. "I won't have some nobody destroy centuries of tradition!"

"The only one destroying anything is you," Elizabeth snaps, "this is my son. Your son."

The King whirls on his wife, his face a mask of incredulity and rage. "How dare you? How dare you take their side in this... this travesty!"

Elizabeth stands tall, her regal bearing a stark contrast to her husband's barely contained fury. "I'm not taking sides, I'm being practical. Times are changing, whether you like it or not."

"Practical?" the King scoffs. "There's nothing practical about throwing away everything we stand for!"

She begins to speak again, but she's cut off by his hand. He strikes her. Hard.

The sound of the slap echoes through the room, followed by a collective gasp. Elizabeth staggers back, her hand flying to her reddening cheek. For a moment, everything freezes - the King's hand still raised, the Queen's eyes wide with shock, Edward and I rooted to the spot in disbelief.

Then, chaos erupts.

"How dare you!" Edward roars, lunging at his father. I grab his arm, barely managing to hold him back as he strains against me, his face contorted with protective rage, "touch my mother again and I don't give a fuck about title. I'll put you on the ground."

The Queen recovers quickly, drawing herself up to her full height. "That," she says, her voice cold and sharp as ice, "was the last mistake you will ever make as King."

The King's face drains of colour as the gravity of his actions sinks in. He takes a step back, his previous fury replaced by a dawning horror.

"Elizabeth, I—" the King stammers, but she cuts him off with a raised hand.

"No," she says, her voice quivering with barely contained fury. "You don't get to speak. Not now."

The Queen turns to face Edward and me, her composure regained despite the angry red mark blooming on her cheek. "Edward, darling, take Bella and leave us. Your father and I need to have a private conversation."

Edward hesitates, his eyes darting between his mother and father. "But Mother—"

"Now, Edward," she says firmly, her tone brooking no argument.

I tug gently on Edward's arm, feeling the tension thrumming through his body. "Come on," I whisper. "Let's go."

As we turn to leave, the King seems to snap out of his shocked stupor. "Wait!" he calls out, "this is not over. You are all behaving as if I am not in charge here."

Edward freezes mid-step, his jaw clenching. I can feel the anger radiating off him in waves. Slowly, he turns back to face his father, his eyes blazing with a fury I've never seen before.

"You're right, Father," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "This isn't over. But you're wrong about one thing - you're not in charge anymore."

The King's face contorts with rage. "How dare you speak to me like that, boy? I am your father, your king!"

"A king who strikes his queen?" Edward retorts, his voice rising. "A father who can't see past his own outdated prejudices to his son's happiness? You're not in charge here anymore. You lost that right the moment you raised your hand to Mother."

The Queen steps forward, placing a calming hand on Edward's shoulder. "Edward."

"Divorce him," Edward commands, holding my hand, "Do not stay with him, mother."

The Queen's eyes widen at Edward's words, a mix of shock and something else - perhaps a flicker of long-suppressed desire for freedom - crossing her face. She glances between her son and her husband, her composure wavering for just a moment.

"Edward," she says softly, "it's not that simple."

"It is that simple," Edward insists, his voice tight with emotion. "He hit you, Mother. In front of us. I can only wonder what he does when no one's watching?"

The King's face pales further, if that's even possible. "She is my wife. My queen. We weren't afforded the chance to marry for love. Be grateful you get that," he snarls, "I fucked her in utter disgust to get an heir."

The room falls deathly silent at the King's cruel words. The Queen's face drains of colour, her eyes filling with unshed tears. For a moment, she looks small and vulnerable, nothing like the regal figure she usually presents to the world.

Edward's grip on my hand tightens painfully. I can feel him trembling with rage beside me. When he speaks, his voice is low and dangerous.

"You disgust me," he spits at his father. "You're not fit to be a king, let alone a husband or father. Step down."

The King sneers, but there's a flicker of fear in his eyes now. He's realising, perhaps for the first time, just how badly he's miscalculated.

The King's sneer falters as he looks around the room, seeing the disgust and anger on every face. Even the stoic guards by the door are struggling to maintain their neutral expressions.

"You can't force me to abdicate," he blusters, but his voice lacks conviction. "I am the King. This is my birthright."

"A birthright you've squandered," the Queen says, her voice steady despite the tears in her eyes. "You've brought shame upon yourself and this family. If you won't step down willingly, we'll make you."

The King's eyes dart frantically between his wife and son. "You wouldn't dare. The scandal—"

"Would be nothing compared to the scandal if the public found out how you've truly behaved behind closed doors," Edward interrupts. "How long do you think you'd last if people knew you hit your wife? That you viewed your own son as nothing more than a duty to be fulfilled?"

The King's face contorts with a mix of rage and fear. He opens his mouth to retort, but no words come out. For the first time, he seems to realise the precariousness of his position.

"I... I won't be bullied by my own family," he manages to stammer out, but his voice lacks its usual authority.

The Queen steps forward, her eyes blazing with a newfound determination. "It's over. You've lost the respect of your family, and soon, you'll lose the respect of the nation. Step down now, with some dignity intact, or we'll be forced to make this public."

For a long moment, the King stands there, his chest heaving, his eyes darting between us. I can almost see the wheels turning in his head, weighing his options, realising how few he has left.

Finally, he looks to me.

"You," he snarls, jabbing a finger in my direction. "This is all your fault. You've turned my own family against me."

I meet his gaze steadily, refusing to be cowed. "No, Your Majesty. You did that all on your own."

For a moment, I think he might lunge at me. His whole body trembles with barely contained rage. But then, like a balloon deflating, all the fight seems to go out of him at once. His shoulders slump, and suddenly he looks every one of his seventy-plus years.

"Fine," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Fine. You win. I'll... I'll abdicate. But mark my words, this will be the ruin of everything we've built."

Edward steps forward, his voice firm but not unkind. "No, Father. This is the start of something historic."

I giggle as I pounce on my prince in the bath. Covering his body with my own, the water moving around us.

Edward laughs, wrapping his arms around me as the warm water sloshes over the sides of the tub. His eyes sparkle with mischief and love as he gazes up at me.

"Well, hello there, future Queen," he murmurs, his fingers tracing patterns on my bare skin. "To what do I owe this delightful ambush?"

I lean down to kiss him softly, savouring the taste of his lips. "Do I need a reason to surprise my soon-to-be husband?"

"Mmm, certainly not," he replies, pulling me closer. "Though I must say, I'm rather enjoying this new, bold side of you."

I smirk, running my hands through his wet hair. "Well, your father did call me a 'nobody.' I figured I might as well live up to my reputation as a scandalous commoner."

Edward laughs loudly, pulling me tighter against him.

"I had an idea," I whisper, "its rather naughty."

Edward's eyebrows rise, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh? Do tell, my love. What naughty ideas are brewing in that beautiful mind of yours?"

I lean in close, my lips brushing against his ear as I whisper, "I was thinking... maybe we could sneak into the throne room tonight. You know, christen your future seat of power."

Edward pulls back, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and excitement. "Bella! That's... that's positively scandalous!" But I can see the intrigue dancing in his eyes.

I grin mischievously. "Well, if I'm to be Queen, I might as well start breaking a few rules, don't you think?"

Edward laughs, shaking his head in amused disbelief. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that? But God, I'm going to die with a smile."

"Just think… did you ever wonder what it would be like to fuck your future wife while you sit on your throne," I kiss his neck.

Edward's eyes darken with desire, his hands tightening on my hips. "God, Bella," he groans, "you have no idea what you do to me."

I can feel exactly what I'm doing to him, pressed against me in the warm water. I roll my hips slowly, eliciting another low moan from his throat.

"Is that a yes?" I tease, nipping at his earlobe.

"You know I can't resist you," he murmurs, capturing my lips in a searing kiss. When we part, both breathless, he grins wickedly. "But if we're going to commit such delicious treason, we should at least wait until the palace is asleep."

"You're right. Someone walking in our me bouncing on their king's cock could be scandalous," I mutter, "especially when they see the marks your hands will leave on my ass."

Edward's eyes darken even further, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His hands slide down to cup my backside, squeezing firmly.

"Is that a promise, my love?" he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Because I must say, the thought of marking you as mine on that throne is... incredibly appealing."

I shiver despite the warm water, heat pooling low in my belly. "It's a pinky promise. I even have the cutest little bra and pantie set for the occasion. Blue. Your favourite colour."

Edward's eyes light up with anticipation. "Blue, you say? You spoil me, my darling." His hands roam over my body, leaving trails of heat in their wake. "Though I must admit, as lovely as that sounds, I'm rather partial to you wearing nothing at all."

I lean in to kiss him deeply, my tongue teasing his. When we part, I whisper against his lips, "Well, Your Highness, I'm sure that can be arranged. After all, what's the point of being royalty if you can't have things exactly as you want them?"

Edward chuckles, the sound low and rich. "Oh, I do love the way you think." His hands slide up my back, pulling me flush against him. "But for now, my love, I think we have some unfinished business here in this tub."

I gasp as he suddenly flips us, spreading my legs apart, wrapping them around my waist.

"You can't wait for our throne romp?" I raise an eyebrow.

"You really think you're going to talk to me like you just did and expect me to get out of the bath?" he looks at me like I'm insane.

I grin wickedly, running my hands down his chest. "Well, when you put it that way..."

Edward captures my lips in a searing kiss, his hands roaming my body with an urgency that makes me dizzy. The water sloshes around us as he positions himself between my thighs.

"Ready?" he murmurs against my neck, his breath hot on my skin.

I nod eagerly, my fingers tangling in his hair. "Always."

With a low groan, he pushes into me, filling me completely. I gasp at the sensation, my back arching as I adjust to his size.

"God, Bella," Edward pants, his forehead resting against mine. "You feel incredible."

He starts to move, slowly at first, then building to a steady rhythm. The water around us creates a delicious friction, adding to the sensations coursing through my body.

"Give it to me. Fuck your queen," I groan into his neck, "be rough baby. I deserve it for the way I just spoke to you."

Edward's eyes flash with desire at my words. His grip on my hips tightens, fingers digging into my flesh as he pulls me harder against him.

Suddenly, his thrusts become more forceful, more urgent. The water sloshes violently around us, spilling over the edges of the tub, but neither of us cares. All that matters is the feeling of him inside me, the delicious friction as he pounds into me with abandon.

I throw my head back, moaning loudly as he hits just the right spot. Edward takes advantage of my exposed neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there. I know I'll have marks tomorrow, but the thought only turns me on more.

"Yes, Edward," I gasp, my nails raking down his back. "Just like that. Harder. Faster!"

Edward growls in response, redoubling his efforts. The bathroom echoes with the sounds of our lovemaking - the splash of water, the slap of skin on skin, our mingled moans and gasps.

"You're mine," Edward pants against my ear, his voice rough with exertion and desire. "My queen, my love, my everything."

His words send a shiver down my spine, pushing me closer to the edge. I can feel the tension building in my core, a delicious pressure threatening to overwhelm me.

"I'm close," I whimper, clinging to him desperately. "So close, Edward."

He slips a hand between us, his fingers finding my most sensitive spot. "Come," he commands, "come around your King's cock."

His words and touch send me over the edge. I cry out, my body tensing as waves of pleasure crash over me. Edward follows soon after, groaning my name as he finds his release.

We cling to each other, panting and trembling in the aftermath. The water has cooled around us, but I hardly notice, still basking in the afterglow.

Edward presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. "You are extraordinary," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and love.

I smile up at him, my heart swelling with affection. "So are you, my soon-to-be King."