Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 26177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Hedayat’s hands shook as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pin for my hair.
Two turtledoves. “May I?”
Tears streamed through my makeup down my cheeks. “Yes.” I knelt lower so he could put them in.
He gently put the pin of the turtledoves in and turned to the crowd. “And now I resign, knowing true peace.”
He turned toward Zautland. “My King.”
Zautland didn’t hesitate, he didn’t follow protocol, he simply grabbed his father by the shoulders and hugged him.
The start of my wedding.
Of a beautiful beginning.
And an ending for one general who served his entire life to protect three Kingdoms.
Frederick nodded toward me. Arthur grinned with a tear sliding down his cheek, we knew.
How very brave.
And that was the man I was marrying.
I turned immediately and just launched myself onto Zautland and kissed him.
“Highness.” The priest coughed. “Highness.”
I waved him off and kept kissing my king while Frederick and Arthur watched with amusement.
Zautland kissed me back.
HIs gloved hands tore at my veil, ripping it off.
His gloved hands cupped my chin, pulling it closer.
His gloved hands ignored protocol.
And when we parted, I looked out toward the crowd and through the windows.
Fresh snow.
Fresh start.
Chapter Twelve
Zautland
I was tired.
Not too tired to ravish my wife, just too tired to actually function in a manner that wouldn’t have me face planting against her and grunting.
I laid back against the white silk sheets and sighed.
The door clicked open. “Rupert, I swear if you ask one more time if I need tea—”
A snowball hit my face right in the bed. “Are you kidding me?”
When I sat up, it was Samira staring at me in nothing but a red teddy that hid nothing but, well, like actually nothing. It was lace from shoulder to thigh, red lace.
She had a Santa hat on. “Want your gift?”
“Please God yes.” I jumped from the bed, tangled in my sheets, as I stumbled to the ground, only to have her on top of me instantly. “Yes wife, yes.”
She grinned and flipped me onto my back, then threw the sheets away. “You have to unwrap me first.”
“Tell me there are no buttons.”
“A zipper.”
“God bless us every one,” I murmured and made quick work at her back, tugging the lace garment off of her, shoving it past her thighs down to her knees. “This might be a quick unwrapping.”
“Meh, I never save the paper anyway.”
“God, I love you.”
She paused and kissed me on the nose. “I love you too.”
I turned her onto the ground and stripped. “I missed you.”
“We were together for hours.”
“Doesn’t count.” I breathed against her neck as we joined together, as our bodies melted against each other in every way I’d always wanted. I was claiming my queen. “Doesn’t matter, only this.”
“Creating.” She gasped as I kissed her harder and pressed into her. “An heir?”
“Love.” We moved in sync, the most perfect sync you could imagine as my hips rolled against hers, as my lips captured her moans and kisses, every last one with every single movement, with every single Christmas wish I’d ever had between us.
She captured my lips and whispered, “Zautland, my King.” And relaxed beneath me. I knew we’d have more moments like this, and that she was as tired as I was. I thought she’d ask me to tuck her in, to braid her hair, my queen needed a break, instead, she leaned up looking beautiful and gloriously naked, her hair draped in waves down her back. She clung to me harder and whispered, “Do you… want to build?”
“A sandwich?” I guessed.
“A family.” She flipped me over onto my back easily. “And then many, many…” She kissed my mouth harder. “Sandwiches, starting with a Christmas themed one right now.”
I laughed. “We’ll have to sneak past the staff.”
“And,” she added, “Make sure Arthur and Frederick don’t catch us.”
“Why does everyone always catch us?”
“Because you’re scandalous?” She shrugged and jumped to her feet. “But isn’t it fun?”
I grinned and hopped out of bed while she put on a robe.
“Maybe…” I grabbed my slippers. “That’s what the rush was, what kept their marriage alive, the constant fear of getting caught in the kitchen.”
She threw a slipper at my head and laughed. “Or the normalcy of just going to a kitchen and making it yourself.”
“They needed it.”
“They did.”
We shared a smile and after I grabbed my robe, I grabbed her hand and poked my head out the door. “Do we boldly walk or just sprint?”
“Sprint.” She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Or maybe we race?”
When we raced, we saw Rupert, we saw a drunken Arthur making his way up the stores, and we saw Frederick shake his head.
And for the next forty years.
We would race.
Even if the races became slower.
Even if our four boys beat us.
We would race to the kitchen.
And build a grilled cheese.
THE END