Page 18 of Fated Flames: Volume Two
“Go then,” I say, my eyes still on her. “Report back here for any disturbances that require me.”
“I’ll make sure they don’t get that far.”
With a bow, Rally walks out into the village of tents that has sprung up around us. The palace is still fully manned, but I ordered a considerable portion of staff here to ensure the princess’s comfort, though that number pales in comparison to those beyond. Besides the paths kept clear by the guards, we’re ringed in on all sides by rows upon rows of tents.
For a moment, I gaze out at these. I watch campfires spring to life as the sun sinks. Listen to the sound of laughter, of celebration. Imagine their relief, their joy.
Turning within, I go to stand over the princess and her entourage.
“Leave us,” I say.
They rise immediately. The princess’s eyes meet mine briefly before she begins dispensing smiles and thanks to her attendants. They beam as if she offered them a crate of gems.
“Of course, Princess.”
“Anything you need…”
“We are most honored.”
When the last one is gone and out of earshot, she lifts tired eyes to me. “Thank you,” she says.
I lower myself to the space across from her. “You could have asked them to leave anytime you saw fit.”
“They’ve been so kind,” she says, rubbing an eye. “I didn’t wish to be rude.”
“You’re exhausted. No one would take offense.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” With that, she shuts her eyes in obvious concentration.
“You need to stop,” I say.
“Your people need water.”
Her eyes startle open as I reach out a finger to lift her chin. “They will be our people, and they are strong.”
A swallow travels down her elegant throat while a blush rushes up her cheeks. “Let me draw a little longer,” she says in a breathy voice that fills me with a maddening urge to lie her down right here. “Then I’ll rest.”
With great reluctance, I release her. “If you must.”
Shutting her eyes, she falls silent once more, and I watch as her breathing turns rhythmic, like a warrior in meditation before battle. After a moment of this, she raises an eyelid to peek up at me.
“Would you rather I go?” I say.
“No.”
“Are you saying that to be polite?”
Her cheeks quiver with a smile. “No, Your Majesty.”
“It’s Soren.”
“No, Soren.”
She closes the eye and continues her meditation, allowing me to drink in every available inch of her, and I do so with rumbling pleasure. We’re fortunate my first form was somewhat sated by the fight, because the man in me is hungry enough just looking at her.
“Aren’t you getting tired?” she asks.
“Just hungry, Princess.”
