Chapter Four
What is taking Kate so long? It should be a matter of minutes to enter the men's room and explain things. They wouldn't hurt her? Or ravish her? Remembering that Kate has lain with several men, and violently repelled the one who tried to force the issue, Ana breathes calm into her body and waits.
But what if Christian refuses her request? It seems unlikely, given his behaviour when they met, and earlier today. She almost sobs in relief on hearing footsteps, and noticing that they're heavier than her companion's. Sure enough, Christian emerges from the wall, to blink at the bright light, before bowing and greeting her, "My Lady."
She curtsies and says, "My Lord." And can think of nothing to add.
He glances around, and puts the candle holder on a nearby table. Then facing her, he asks, "You wished to see me?"
Oh, yes.
Hush!
"Uh, yes, I..." With a shrug, she reveals, "This was Kate's idea, when I confessed a reluctance to let you out of my sight today."
His eyes widen in surprise as he asks, "It was Lady Katherine's idea to put us in that room?"
Oh. "Uh, no, that was mine, in case...it's usually Kate's room, but I thought..." Again lost for words, she shrugs and adds, "I just wanted to see you."
She wonders then if he can tell just how much she longs for his touch, because he smiles slightly before spreading his arms wide and obliging, "Here I am." Almost moved to tears, without knowing why, Anastasia can only shrug her helplessness, and he lowers his arms to observe, "You look tired."
It's enough to make her smile, and she jokes, "Thank you, My Lord."
He cringes and says, "Sorry, but...have you not been sleeping?"
Another shrug and Ana reveals, "My ailing father died, my inheritance is lost, every person I speak to has conflicting advice, and I'm to be married to a virtual stranger in only..."
Her sleep deprived brain proves unequal to the task, so Christian supplies, "Twenty-seven days." When she again makes no reply other than a shrug, he commands, "Come here."
Wondering if any of this is real, she complies until standing before him. "My Lord?"
He clasps his forearms across his abdomen and asks, "Can you hold this pose?" When she silently obeys, he closes the distance between and gently compels her head to his shoulder. He's taller than her, but not too tall. As one of his hands caresses her hair, the other traces soothing patterns on her back, and he says, "Hush now, all will be well. You'll see."
His tenderness is her undoing, and she's weeping into his bed shirt, quickly descending into sobbing. All the while, he holds her and whispers reassurances that barely break through her grief. Without her conscious knowledge, Ana's hands betray her by moving to grasp at him, and she's abruptly bereft of his comfort, apologising, "God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
He waves away her apology, saying, "No, I'm sorry. I thought...I do want you to touch me, so there is hope, I think. But it's not something I can control."
He seems suddenly unsure of himself, so she deliberately echoes his words, vowing, "All will be well. You'll see."
He smiles, but then it vanishes when he asks, "Did Elena tell you how I received my first scars?"
Genuinely shocked that he deduced the identity of her informant, Anastasia can see from the narrowing of his eyes that her expression has betrayed her thoughts, so she doesn't bother lying, instead pleading, "You won't hurt her?"
He breathes a heavy sigh and says, "Not physically, but she will understand that punishment is warranted." And then he frowns slightly to ask, "Why do you care?"
"She seemed...I'm not sure she loves you, or she would not have betrayed your trust, but Lady Elena does care for you, I think."
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Christian says, "Perhaps. It's been many years since Elena was my lover, but I know for a fact that she longs to resume that role. I suspect she panicked on hearing about my original proposal. Married, I am forever out of her reach. She knows me well enough to understand that I'd never betray such a pact."
Heartened by this confession, Anastasia dares to request, "Can you stay for a while? I think perhaps I could sleep if you're watching over me." In case he'd been expecting more from her, she adds, "And, I'm sorry, but the rules are quite clear about waiting until the wedding night before...you know."
He grins and says, "Consummation."
Blushing, and angry that her skin has betrayed her, Anastasia snaps, "Must you always mock me?"
He chuckles and says "Apparently," before commanding, "Get into bed. Face away from me."
A thrill goes through her as she complies, and he soon climbs into bed behind her, before slipping one arm around her waist and saying, "Sweet dreams, Anastasia."
She's never been with a man, indeed is mostly innocent of what occurs between lovers. But Kate has volunteered some information, so Ana knows what the hardness at her back means. And she says, "Twenty-seven days suddenly seems a long time."
When his reply is a relaxed laugh, it surrounds her and fills her, and he says, "Go to sleep, Anastasia."
She's complying, his warm embrace soothing her towards oblivion, when she remembers, "They said you've agreed to be baptised?"
"With reluctance, yes."
"So we can be wed?"
"Yes."
"But you don't believe?"
"No."
"Lady Elena said you abhor falsehood."
"Is that a question?"
He sounds a little angry, though presumably not with her. "Uh, no. I guess my question is, are you okay to lie this one time?"
He kisses the base of her neck, sending sparks of pleasure through her entire body, and replies, "To be with you? I'd do anything. You don't feel the same?"
With all that's happened, she hadn't noticed, until he asked. "I do. But how is that possible? We barely now each other."
He holds her close—the hardness is gone now—and says, "Sleep. Twenty-seven days is nothing. We have the rest of our lives."
In fact, another large pledge to the Church means that the wedding is moved up one week, now scheduled two weeks hence, so every castle and keep in the newly formed empire is a flurry of activity, with none wanting to miss the wedding of two young people who already have great power, and might one day wield more. Christian is in his study, trying to memorise his lines for the imminent baptism ritual, when a knock on the door precedes Claude announcing, "Lady Elena has requested an audience."
With so much to do, Christian had cast her treachery from his mind, and he asks, "Oh? Do you think she's deduced that we know?"
Claude shrugs and says, "Possibly. But her stated reason is that, like so many others, she'd dearly love to be one of your godparents."
Christian rolls his eyes at this reminder of the ordeal that choice had added to his already busy life. He'd tried to foist the task off onto his mother, but she'd maintained that, as an adult, it was his decision. "You'll have to tell her the deal is done. I granted this favour as consolation to our three fiercest former enemies."
"I did tell her, but she's insisting on hearing it from you. I'm more than happy to evict her, but thought you might have come up with an appropriate punishment by now."
Christian shakes his head and says, "Hardly a priority right now." Hoping inspiration will strike when she's before him, he instructs, "All right, send her in."
He has just enough time to conceal any papers that could give Elena useful information, before Claude again raps a warning and opens the door enough to announce, "The Lady Elena, Your Royal Highness."
Smiling, that Claude is subtly reminding Elena of her now relatively low rank compared to her former lover, Christian merely says, "Thank you."
Elena enters, looking older than he remembers, and curtsies low, saying, "Your Royal Highness."
Looks like Claude's trick worked, but Christian has never had much patience for niceties. As the door closes behind her, he approaches and helps her to stand, asking, "What can I do for you, Elena?"
Her famed ability to conceal her emotions fails her and she looks relieved at this encouraging overture, before saying, "Thank you, Christian. I worried that perhaps we were no longer friends."
His grin is fierce, and Christian reminds her, "We were never friends. I was your plaything for several years, and then you were mine for a time. But no sane being would call that friendship."
She looks a little afraid at this, which shows good sense, but then rallies enough to dare, "Darling, you're not the marrying kind. How did you imagine it would even work? Do you intend to forgo all pleasure for the rest of your life? Surely, you can't think that pretty young thing would welcome your attentions otherwise? I know you would never force her, and the poor child would run a mile at the sight of your red room."
It seems that Elena has not only been conspiring with his nearest enemy, but conferring with his former lovers. She shouldn't know that the room where he has entertained so many willing women is decorated in red tones. But there is a more pressing matter. "Elena, this is your one warning; in word and deed, you will treat my intended with the utmost respect or live only long enough to regret it."
It's rare to see her cowed, but Elena shrinks in on herself, desperately searching his face for some hope. Finding none there, she drops her gaze, saying, "My apologies, Highness. I am only worried for you. I fear that your sanity might again be in jeopardy were you to forsake the...gifts I taught you."
Gifts? He might have at one time called her attentions a gift, but time has helped him see that her motives for taking a damaged boy and giving him an outlet for all his rage and passion were not so altruistic. And every second he spends with Anastasia makes him less certain that he ever needed such lessons in the first place. Given time, he might have healed without them. All these thoughts and more flicker through his mind in seconds, but in that interval Elena has finally seen cause for hope on his face. It's evident in her suddenly shrewd gaze. And Christian wonders how he could have failed to notice how cruel she looks when gleeful. He knows her well enough to see that she senses victory. In that moment, he devises the perfect punishment. "Goodbye, Elena."
That's shocked her. She literally rocks back a little, before licking her lips and attempting, "Darling, if you'd just_"
He's already at the door, and silences her, "Enough. We're done. I know you betrayed me to Anastasia and her father, and I don't care. Because, whatever your reasons, you failed. She knows me and still wants me. From this day forward, you are nothing to me."
Naked fear in her eyes, Elena becomes desperate enough to put a hand on his arm, and beg, "Christian, please, for what we once meant to each other."
Angrier than he can remember being in recent memory, Christian is trembling when he roars, "Remove your hand or I'll separate it from the rest of you." She snatches her hand back as if he's suddenly venomous, and he opens the door, concluding, "All I meant to you was a toy you played with whenever your husband was away."
Wondering at the sudden horror on her face, he turns to see his mother standing in the anteroom, and a desperately stoic Claude behind her. Her Majesty is one of the few people who may enter his quarters without being announced, and is literally the only person who never knocks first. Hoping against hope that he can somehow claim his words meant something innocent, he attempts, "Mother, I_"
She silences him with a gesture, and addresses only her old friend, to say, "Elena, you have three seconds to flee my presence, three minutes to vacate my home, and three months to forever leave my country. After that, any properties remaining in your name will be seized, and your life will be forfeit."
Elena wastes two seconds, her gaze flicking between them, but ultimately has the intelligence to curtsy and leave with only, "Your Majesty."
The door closing sounds very loud to Christian. He waits, hands by his side, for his mother's response. She takes a shuddering breath and says, "Sorry for the interruption, but I wondered if you'd finished the list of preferred godparents? The invitations need to be sent today, or they won't have time to reply let alone attend the ceremony."
Thrilled that she seems content to ignore Elena, he practically runs to retrieve the parchment, and offers it to her, saying, "Uh, yes. I hope you approve?"
She scans the few names, and soon says, "I do. Your father and I have of course been continuing the battle for their loyalty through diplomatic channels, and this should help quite a bit. Thank you, Christian."
Sagging in relief that she doesn't seem angry with him, he says, "You're welcome, Mother." When she merely smiles at him, he adds, "Well, I'd best get back to it. There's so much to do."
She approaches and offers her favoured gesture of affection—a tender hand on his cheek—before saying, "There is indeed. But, first, we're going to have a little chat."
He should have known she wouldn't let it go. He might be an adult, but he suspects that even as King he'll remain her little boy. Gesturing to a nearby chair, that he hadn't deigned offer Elena, he sits opposite her and surrenders, "Yes, Mother."